The Brisbane Courier visits the Woogaroo Asylum - 1884

Portion of an Architectural drawing of the Woogaroo Lunatic Asylum dated 1879. 

Queensland State Archives Item ID 580536

We often get the best insights into the running of institutions, like asylums, from authors from outside the system. Much of the official reporting is terse and focuses on either the provision of statistics or brief reporting of facts. Patients (or inmates) are rarely given a voice.  Even today some of the internal communications are ‘out of bounds’ to the curious public. For this reason I am again publishing a series of reflections on the functioning of the Woogaroo Lunatic Asylum, this time from a reporter to the Brisbane Courier in 1884.  The author provides a layman’s view of what he sees and therefore, provides not just insight into the asylum itself but also the cultural context in which the asylum exists

The three articles that appeared in the Brisbane Courier in 1884, are

• A VISIT TO WOOGAROO. (1884, May 30). The Brisbane Courier (Qld. : 1864 - 1933), p. 5. Retrieved February 16, 2020, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article3430583 
• A VISIT TO WOOGAROO.—II. (1884, May 31). The Brisbane Courier (Qld. : 1864 - 1933), p. 5. Retrieved February 16, 2020, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article3430638 
• A VISIT TO WOOGAROO.—III. (1884, June 3). The Brisbane Courier (Qld. : 1864 - 1933), p. 5. Retrieved February 16, 2020, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article3430700 

The text is unchanged with the exception of some reworked paragraphing and the addition of headings to aid navigation.

A VISIT TO WOOGAROO - I

Arriving unannounced

Goodna! Such was the cry of a sleepy-voiced porter who opened the carriage door and flashed a lantern in my eyes. I roused myself and looked out. The other occupants of the carriage were wrapped in the arms of Morpheus and were evidently going on to Ipswich, so I gathered up my belongings and got out. On the platform were a guard, a porter and a small man in a big coat, who appeared to be someone in authority. With the exception of one or two flickering lamps the station was quite dark. No one took any notice of me and I walked the length of the train down the platform. A parcel or two was thrown out, the guard exchanged a few words with the little man, the engine gave a weak whistle, and in a few moments the red lights at the rear of the train disappeared with increasing speed round the curve, and I was left feeling helpless and forlorn on the platform. I had telegraphed to Dr Scholes, the superintendent of Woogaroo, my intention of coming down by the last train, and it was now past midnight and not a soul from the Asylum was there. I did not even know on which side of the station that institution lay. I appealed to the little man, who evidently regarded me with contempt and suspicion. "The Asylum? Oh, the Asylum's over there;" indicating vaguely with a jerk of his thumb the country generally, that lay on the opposite side of the platform. I looked in that direction and saw a few scattered lights extending over a considerable distance. " But where does Dr Scholes live?" I asked "Dunno." " I expected him to have sent somebody to meet me." " Oh, you want to go there to-night? Yes, there is a telegram for him lying in the office there ; he'll get it right enough in the morning." He then proceeded to inform me that my telegram arrived too late to go to the Asylum that night, and explained that in the daytime a signal was hoisted when telegrams or letters arrived, and they sent over from the Asylum for them. I considered for a while. The wind was very cold, and, though unexpected, there was no other course for me than to knock somebody up at Woogaroo. " How far is the Asylum?" " 'Bout half a mile ; I'm going in that direction myself, and will see you part of the way." I thankfully accepted his offer, and we crossed the platform, passed through a wicket gate, and went along a track, apparently through a paddock, in the direction of the lights. After some five minutes' walking we emerged on to a road with a few scattered houses on each side. Here my guide said he must leave me." See those lights ? Well, the Asylum stretches all along there." He did not know at which end the doctor lived, but said there were a number of houses all scattered about. He told me to keep straight along the road till I came to a winding road on the left I was to follow this till I crossed a bridge, and then I would find myself in Woogaroo. Having thanked him for his information, I said good-night and went on my way, though, as there was no moon, the night was pitch-dark. I determined to knock at the door of the first house in which I saw a light, and by that means hoped to be directed in the right way. On turning down the road on the left I noticed on the left-hand side, across a kind of ditch, a strong palisade about 10ft high standing out clearly against the sky. This was the first indication I had of my where-abouts, and I wondered if all the grounds were palisaded round, and if so how should I get in. I soon came to the bridge and to a gate, which to my delight, opened readily enough I made for the first light I could see, following the road. The light came from inside a kind of passage, leading to a square block of buildings guarded by stout bars and a massive gate. On the left was a trellised veranda. From inside came the most unearthly noises, noises that made my flesh creep, bursts of loud mean-ingless laughter, snatches of songs broken off in the middle, demoniac yells, and now and then a wailing cry " This, then is a madhouse. Outside the scene was fair enough. In the darkness I could see the shadowy forms of trees, the station lights twinkling in the distance, the faint glimmer of the white roadway at my feet, and overhead the stars, while the wind had fallen, and all was calm and peaceful. Before me were the for-bidding bars and the sickly light of the lamp while from within the building the confused discord of hideous sounds filled my soul with pity and with horror. There was no knocker and no bell. I rapped at the gate with my knuckles in a half-hearted kind of way, and could not resist the hideous idea that if a warder came I should be taken for an escaped lunatic, clapped into a strait waistcoat, and turned in among the unfortunate creatures within. I determined to try somewhere else, and gladly turned my back upon that house of horrors. Retracing my steps, I soon struck the main road, and walked onwards to a small house, in which a light gleamed through a curtained window. I stepped on to the veranda, but started back in terror, for a dog in the corner suddenly exploded in a tremendous volley of barks. The dog, however, made no attempt to molest me, and I went to the window and knocked repeatedly. At last I succeeded in knocking up a burly and good-natured warder who listened to my tale, came out in his nightshirt and directed me to the Doctor's house, which was about a couple of hundred yards further, on the opposite side of the road. Then too I had to run the gauntlet of a bevy of dogs, but succeeded at length in arousing the Doctor, who opened the door and speedily made me forget my troubles. He laughed heartily at my fruitless efforts to discover his domicile, and after certain creature comforts had been attended to showed me to my room, when I turned in and slept the sleep of the just, but not without contrasting my position with the hapless inmates of the building I had first attempted to enter.

Accompanying the superintendent on his rounds

After breakfast in the morning Dr. Scholes invited me to accompany him on his rounds as being the best way of observing the internal economy of the establishment, and we left the house proceeding in the direction in which I came the night before. We soon arrived at the square block of buildings which I had first noticed and which Dr. Scholes informed me comprised the offices and four wards for the male patients. The noises I had heard proceeded from ward No. 1, in which the most violent of the lunatics are placed. Detached from the main building are the offices, which consist mainly of the superintendent's office, the library, the clerk's office, and the surgery. In Dr. Scholes's office a cheerful fire was burning, and I sat down and waited until he had dispatched his ordinary routine work before doing the daily rounds. This work consisted in seeing the chief attendant, Mr Hamilton, and laying out the work for the day and receiving from him a numerical return of the patients in the various wards of the asylum, a return prepared from the ward reports of the senior night attendants and nurses. The superintendent also sees the steward, opens correspondence, hears complaints, &c., and by half past 9 sets out on his tour of inspection, accompanied by the chief attendant.
At half past 9 then I accompanied the superintendent on his rounds. The first place we visited was ward No. 1 in the male division, where the most violent of the lunatics were generally kept. This ward adjoins the offices. The chief attendant unlocked a door, and we were shown into a large yard, with a covered kind of shed in the centre, open all round — that is to say, it had a roof but no walls — and in fine weather most of the patients in this ward had their meals here. The patients were all collected together for inspection, together with their warders. Many were sitting looking sullen and sad — men who would not look up or take the slightest notice of visitors, nor even of the superintendent as he passed round with a friendly word or question, addressing each man by his name. Others were bright and pleasant, who answered cheerfully any questions that were put to them, and volunteered plenty of information on their own account.
In this ward there were a number of coloured men, chiefly Chinese. Conspicuous among these was a coolie — one of the first introduced into the colony by the Hon. Gordon Sandemann. This man was a merry-looking fellow enough, whose invariable remark was, " Well, pig ? " Well, dog ?" and the like. Another coloured man — a Chinaman — was most morose and savage. He absolutely declined to have anything to do either with the superintendent or the attendants. When spoken to he would draw himself savagely back and shout out, "No savvy." At first, seeing but one or two attendants and forty or fifty of these maniacs, with the unfettered use of their hands, I did not feel particularly comfortable, but soon became accustomed to it, as I noticed the complete control over the patients the attendants seemed to possess, a control that I am convinced is moral rather than physical, and the result of kindness and firmness combined. The unfortunate creatures are treated like patients instead of prisoners, and in this lies the secret of such harmony in an asylum.

In the muffs

One man I noticed, who had his hands in a kind of leather contrivance, looked particularly miserable. His hands were placed in a kind of leather tube which is jocularly called the "muffs" in the establishment. It is like an exaggerated and elongated muff, and when the hands and arms are in it it is in the same position as a lady's muff. There are attached two straps, with which it is fastened just before each elbow joint. On asking the chief attendant the reason of this he replied, "He would strip himself if left alone." I learnt that this was an efficient though harmless method of confining his arms, and preventing him from doing damage either to himself or others. A number of the more violent patients, if they had the free use of their arms, would rapidly divest themselves of every shred of clothing. One of these "muffs" was brought for my inspection, and as I examined it and placed my arms in it, an unsympathetic lunatic called out, "Put him in them all night, and he'll know more about them in the morning — an unnecessary remark, I may observe, and the truth of which was obvious.

Unrespected privacy

Another man, carrying a volume of Boswell's "Life of Johnson," came up to me and said, "You must not write anything about us; this is a private asylum and belongs to us and not to the public, remember that." He subsequently informed me that the doctor was mad, and any information he gave me was perfectly unreliable. On the whole, I was very much surprised to hear that these were the most violent and dangerous of all the lunatics. Most of them seemed grateful for the slightest attention, and one man to whom I spoke pressed a highly-polished trousers button on me — evidently a treasure. He forced me to accept, and I shall always keep it as a memento of my visit. There were few, if any, complaints in answer to Dr. Scholes's queries, though one or two of the inmates assured me that they were not mad, and one of them warned me that he had come on a visit like me and had been detained ever since.

A VISIT TO WOOGAROO - II

[BY OUR SPECIAL REPORTER.]

A tour of facilities

On leaving the yard we went into the large dining-room, where the quieter members of No. 1 have their meals. Both floor and tables were spotlessly clean and the patients are made as comfortable as circumstances will allow. Before the fireplace is fixed a strong guard whose iron bars seem needlessly thick. From the dining-room we visited each of the dormitories, and here, as throughout every part of the establishment, the most scrupulous cleanliness and neatness were observable.
All soiled bedding is at once removed, and the utmost care taken to destroy at once any noxious smells. The beds are all thoroughly aired. When the patients retire to rest the clothes they have worn during the day are all removed and placed in neatly folded bundles outside, first having been thoroughly searched, and any articles the patients may have concealed during the day are carefully removed. The bedding, too, is frequently searched for the same reason. The only articles patients are allowed to have in their possession are pipes, tobacco, and handkerchiefs.

A violent maniac

While we were inspecting the dormitories several loud crashes were heard downstairs, quickly followed by a succession of shrill whistles. On reaching the yards we saw that one of the maniacs had suddenly become violent and smashed six panes of glass. The attendants, summoned by the whistle, rushed on him. He resisted violently at first, tearing a large quantity of hair out of one of the attendant's whiskers. However, in the grasp of four powerful warders he was quite helpless, and was carried off at once to one of the single cells, a row of which stood on the other side of the yard. His boots were taken off, and he was placed inside one of the cells and securely locked in. No manacles and no strait waist-coat such as we read about. He was simply put inside and left to his own meditations. Through an aperture in the upper part of the door I looked in and saw the poor fellow lying on the bed, unable to do either himself or anybody else any harm. For outbreaks of this kind no punishment is ever inflicted, and when the sufferer calms down again he is allowed as much liberty and treated in exactly the same manner as before. "Strait waistcoats" I found were not often used, and are the reverse of the instruments of torture that exist in the popular imagination. Imagine a canvas jacket, which opens at the back instead of in front, with the sleeves fastened in the side pockets and there it is. Nor is it uncomfortable to wear. Another plan is to have the arms secured by a band passing round the body above each elbow joint. The only object of this jacket is to restrain the arms of its possessor for the time being. In the whole of the establishment while I was there, with the exception of the case I have described above, no patient was confined in any of the single cells, nor was the canvas jacket in operation.

The facilities tour continues 

We next went round the other wards in this division, the individual characteristics of which are similar to those of No. 1. In all there are four male wards in this part of the ground, and two more on the rising ground to the northward beyond the kitchen and laundry. No. 3 ward is very pleasantly situated with a pleasant patch of garden in front. Below the little lawn there is a terrace, and below this again there is the fence built low so as not to interfere with the view from the garden, from which the river, which curves away among thickly-wooded banks to the north and south, is seen in all its beauty. 

On the level ground by the river is the kitchen garden, where a plentiful supply of vegetables is grown for the use of the asylum, some of the inmates proving capital market-gardeners. Hopping about the garden is a tame kangaroo, and inside the kitchen and throughout the ward generally was a graceful little wallaby, perfectly tame and as playful as a kitten. In this ward are the more sensible people, many of whom are quite convalescent and not far from their discharge. The buildings here were of rather more modern construction than those we had previously seen, and the rooms very bright and cheerful. On the outside of the ward climbed a thickly-flowering bougainvillea, and the garden wall was covered with a gorgeous mass of begonia. 

In the hospital ward, which we next visited, was an old man who has not been known to speak since he entered the asylum. There were one or two patients sitting round the fire, which as usual was protected by a guard, and in an adjacent room two others were in bed. The superintendent examined each of them, and gave directions for their treatment. In this room there are some beds for epileptic patients, not only constructed but invented at Woogaroo. They are fitted with sides which work on hinges. One side is let down while the patient is placed inside and then fastened back again. This simple method prevents the patients from tossing their bedclothes out or falling out of bed. 

Adjoining the last ward is the bakehouse, where excellent bread is made. I examined one batch of loaves, and certainly a patient must be very insane indeed to quarrel with the quality of the staff of life in this establishment. We next visited the coach house and sheds. Here might be seen patients engaged in refilling palliasses with straw, and engaged in other occupations. Close by at the blacksmith's shop all kinds of work is done for the asylum. Bedsteads and tools are made, and some of the patients become skilled blacksmiths. In the tailor's shop there were four of the inmates repairing clothes, &c., and using their needles with creditable rapidity. 

Passing by the storeroom, we came to the bathroom. Inside there are four large cement baths, fitted with taps and shower baths. The latter are supplied from an enormous tank holding some 20,000 gallons overhead. When the patients are using the bathroom the cemented floor is covered with gratings to protect the feet of the bathers from its chilliness. A few beds have been placed in a room leading into the bathroom, the superintendent having been obliged to put them here owing to the lack of room in other parts of the establishment. 

Close by the bathroom is a saw-mill worked by steam and a carpenter's shop, in each of which patients work under instruction. Such things as picture frames, chairs and tables are turned out in a thoroughly workmanlike manner. On our way to the Hill Division, in which Nos. 5 and 6 of the male wards and all the female wards are situated, we passed a dam which has been constructed at the base of the hill. All the water used in the establishment, with the exception of that gathered into tanks from the roof, is supplied from this dam, whence it is forced into an enormous cistern at the highest elevation of the ridge by means of a steam pump. The cistern is of higher elevation than any of the buildings, and consequently the pressure of water is great, and so long as the cistern is well filled the whole of the asylum is supplied with water. On the elevated land to the north stand Nos. 5 and 6 male wards, of more modern construction than the rest, and close by is a sort of bush house which is mainly used for striking plants. The 'possums' here are very destructive, and play great havoc with the plants. 

Cooking by Steam 

Between the male and female wards are the kitchen and laundry, the former fitted with a complete set of Benhams ranges. All the cooking is done by means of steam, which is generated in a large boiler at the rear. This system is remarkably clean and simple, and reduces the labour of cooking to a minimum, since all the cooks have to do is to turn on a tap and regulate the heat as they please. In the centre of the kitchen is a carving table made of iron, with hollow top and sides, into which steam can be forced at will, and the various articles of food kept hot. 

The laundry 

Leaving the kitchen, we went into the laundry and here for the first time I saw some of the female patients who are employed in this work. Everything in this laundry is done by steam, and there are many novelties and labour saving appliances, including a centrifugal mangling machine. This is in the shape of a deep hollow basin, into which the wet garments are placed round the sides. When the steam is turned on the basin commences to revolve, increasing in rapidity till the articles of clothing by the pressure of the air are pressed tightly against the sides, so tightly indeed as to express every drop of water, which drains out at the bottom. There is also an artificial drying apparatus for drying clothes by means of hot air, but this is never used except in inclement weather, for, as Dr. Scholes said, "After all, you cannot beat sun and fresh air.” The females, mostly girls, who were working in the laundry, seemed happy and contented enough, and it was often difficult to realise that they were insane. Many of them were laughing and chatting among themselves, and all had a word for the doctor. Attached to the laundry are the ironing and sorting rooms. 

Sewing in No 4 Ward 

After leaving the laundry we came to No. 6 female ward, not quite finished, and at present unoccupied. When this building is completed it will be as comfortable and convenient as the most dissatisfied superintendent could desire. In No. 4 ward a large number of patients were engaged in sewing, chiefly in repairing clothes. They all seemed very busy and intent on their needles, which popped in and out as deftly as in sane fingers. The others were all gathered together on the veranda for the doctors inspection, and one or two looked very sulky. Some of them were loud in their demands for liberty, and one or two reiterated again and again that they were not mad. This ward was built entirely of zinc. 

No 5 Ward 

In the No. 5 ward I noticed a young woman sitting still in front of the fire with a young baby at her breast. The infant was healthy, but the mother was mad! The picture was a sad one, and I turned away with relief from the sight. The single cells in this ward are a great improvement on those in the older male wards, being cemented all round, clean, and well ventilated. On inquiry I learnt that there are no padded cells in the institution, and Dr. Scholes says he has never found any occasion for them. 

We next visited No. 1, the refractory ward of the female maniacs. Here there was a good deal of noise and various comments were passed upon me as I walked round, much to my discomfiture. One woman rushed up to me and poured into my deafened ear a long tale of the wrongs she had endured in that asylum, while many were clamorous for their liberty. But there was one noticeable feature about all the female wards that particularly struck me, and that was the neatness and cleanliness of all the inmates, and even this refractory ward was no exception to the rule. As Dr. Scholes said, "The men may be good, but the ladies are always better." 

The nurses 

The nurses in their neat dresses, moving about among the inmates, completed the picture of a model asylum. Each of these nurses as well as the warders is supplied with a whistle, which she has instructions to blow whenever she needs assistance, and on hearing the whistle it is the duty of every assistant to rush at once to the place. The idea is to prevent any struggling by the immediate presence of an overwhelming force, for though a patient might resist one or two warders for some time, when four or six simultaneously seize him he frequently gives in without a struggle. Even if he chose to struggle it would be a very short and harmless one. In the female hospital there were only two patients in bed, and both of them earnestly begged to be allowed to get up, a request which was ultimately granted. In No. 2 ward there was a poor little black girl, not insane, but blind, and a great pet. She had no one to go to and no friends, and is kept in the institution for charity's sake. There were also two little idiot boys, or rather infants, each taken care of and nursed by a patient who, although no relation, exercised a maternal fondness that was pleasing, though pathetic. I left the wards with a sense of relief, glad to be out of the sight of so much misfortune, but greatly enlightened in my views concerning lunatic asylums, which I had always looked upon through glasses tinged with impressions left by reading 'Valentine Vox the Ventriloquist." Thank God such deeds as are written there are things of the past, and in Woogaroo at least these unfortunate creatures have every attention and kindness shown to them

A VISIT TO WOOGAROO  - III

[BY OUR SPECIAL REPORTER.] 

Animals at Woogaroo 

The superintendent's morning round of inspection generally is not over till after 12, and in this instance it was considerably after mid day when we had inspected all the buildings. On coming out of the last female ward we were met by a noisy crowd of fox terriers, the property of Dr. Scholes, and the pets of everybody. These dogs used at one time to accompany him on his visit through the wards, but since they got into disgrace over hunting the pet kangaroo they have not been allowed to go inside. They followed us that morning to the door of the various buildings, and then ran round to the back and waited till we came out. Woogaroo, besides to a great extent supplying itself with vegetables, possesses extensive piggeries, which are managed so well as to bring in a profit of about £150 a year. Among these are some fine-looking Berkshires, which are confidently expected to "take the cake" at the forthcoming show at Ipswich. On playfully inquiring whether the evil spirits from the lunatics ever entered into this herd of swine, I was sternly and deservedly reproved. 

An attempted escape 

Passing by the wards after leaving the piggeries, Dr. Scholes stopped a moment to speak to one of the men engaged in doing some outdoor work. One of them, who seemed sane enough to me the doctor especially noticed, and remarked to Mr Hamilton, the chief attendant, "I'm afraid we shall have some more trouble with that man yet." I did not see anything particularly dangerous-looking about him, and indeed would not have known he was a lunatic at all. The doctor's words were verified not long afterwards. We were walking up to the house when we heard the warders' whistles sounding, and looking round saw a man running at full speed across the paddock in the direction of the river with one or two warders after him. The man rapidly distanced his pursuers, but was checked by the water, and not being game to tackle it remained there till the warders came up to him, when he returned with them quietly enough. I saw the same man again at dinner and also at the dance in the evening, where he was as lively as any of them, and dancing away as though the thought of escape had never entered his head. One or two of the lunatics, I was informed, labour under the delusion that Woogaroo is an island, and consequently never attempt to escape. One man who was checked in his flight by the river was highly indignant, as he thought he had a clear course to Brisbane before him. But as a rule those patients who are allowed a large measure of liberty are well known and can be trusted. Dr. Scholes even allows them to go into Brisbane now and then, if they give him their word of honour not to escape, and this confidence is seldom if at all abused. I went round some of the wards while the lunatics were at dinner, which was well cooked, excellent in quality, and there was plenty of it.

Rations

The following are the rations allowed each day :- For males (employed) : Potatoes, 16oz. ; bread, 16oz. ; tea, ⅜oz. ; sugar, 1½oz. ; meat, 16oz. ; milk, 1 gill ; maize meal, 2oz. ; and treacle, 1oz. For males (unemployed) : Bread, 14oz. ; tea, ⅜oz. ; sugar, 1½oz. ; meat, 14oz. ; milk, 1 gill ; maize meal, 2oz. ; treacle, 1oz. ; and potatoes, 16oz. Females : Bread, 14oz. ; tea, ⅜oz. ; sugar, 1½oz. ; meat, 14oz. ; milk, 1 gill ; maize meal, 1½oz. ; treacle, 1oz. ; potatoes, 16oz. Those patients working in the laundry are allowed in addition 2oz. bread, ¾oz. cheese, ⅛oz. tea, ½oz. sugar. Each patient is likewise allowed 4oz. butter weekly, and five days in the week 1oz. rice, barley, or peas meal for soup. On Queen's Birthday and Christmas Day ½lb. flour, ¼lb. raisins, 1oz. suet, and 1oz. sugar are allowed for puddings in addition to the ordinary fare. The dinner is all served out before the patients sit down, and when they take their places they find all their food portioned out and ready for them. In Ward No 1 many of the patients the more violent ones — dine outside, and those whom it would be dangerous to trust with knives or forks have their food minced for them, and eat it with a spoon. This is also the case with epileptic patients, of whom there are a good number — poor creatures who find it difficult, and sometimes almost impossible, to swallow, and are unable to control their movements. Every bone is carefully extracted from their food, which is thoroughly minced to prevent any danger of suffocation.

The tin basin

At one end of the table I noticed a tin basin of custard pudding, and as it was the only one on the table, I asked the doctor who it was for. "Do you see that sly-looking old man at the end of the table? Well, some days ago he took it into his head to starve himself, and persisted in his resolution for some time, so that we had to feed him by means of a stomach pump. One day when there was some of that pudding on the table he secreted it while he thought no one was looking. As soon as the meal was over he stole away, as he thought unobserved, though in reality watched by the attendants When he was out of sight, as he thought, he greedily ate the pudding, threw the basin over the fence, and returned chuckling. And now the pudding is placed there every day for him to steal, and he regularly does so; and this obviates the necessity for a stomach pump."

A post dinner tour

After dinner I again visited the wards with the doctor on his rounds, and then he drove me through most of the very extensive reserve of the asylum, followed as usual by a regular pack of terriers, together with two fine colleys. In the course of conversation I gathered that insanity is not at all the incurable malady that some people suppose, and I was astonished to hear that the cures number no less than 40 per cent of the admissions. Of course, in calculating the proportion of cures, it is manifestly unjust to take into account those who have been a long time in the institution, perhaps even from its initiation, which was before separation took place, and somewhere about the year 1856. I asked whether non intoxicating liquors were allowed, and learned that those who work are allowed half a pint of beer at dinner and about one third of a fig of tobacco. In addition to this, those who are weak or unwell are allowed "medical comforts," a term which is capable of large and generous interpretation. The friends of the patients are allowed to visit them whenever they like, and walk freely with them about the grounds, though, of course, are forbidden to give to the patients any articles not authorised by the hospital regulations.

A suicide

A sad case of suicide happened last year-the only case since the year 1874. A female patient who had been admitted into the asylum in 1881, and who had been twice insane and confined in an asylum in Scotland, evinced very strong symptoms of suicidal mania. Previous to her last admission to Woogaroo she had made several very determined attempts to destroy herself. In one case she swallowed a packet of needles, which had to be extracted from her throat, and in another she set fire to her clothes by holding a portion of her dress between the bars of the fireguard. She became very melancholy, and was watched night and day. On one of her fingers was a whitlow, and the tip in consequence became as hard as stone. One day she furtively bored a hole through her throat with the nail of this finger and penetrated into her gullet, so that milk and any other fluid she drank would spurt out. Thanks to good nursing she recovered from the last self-inflicted injury, and constantly attempted to starve herself, but, of course, without success. On the 11th August, however, she somehow managed to elude the vigilance of the night nurse and made her way to the river bank after climbing the fence. Here the poor creature buried her face in the mud and suffocated herself. This occurred early in the morning. She had stolen quietly out of bed after the nurse, who had visited her previously every five minutes had left. 

The general health of the lunatics was excellent, and a visitor can not help being struck with the general cheerfulness and contentment. And for this due credit must be given to Dr. Scholes, whose system of kindness has proved so successful; to Dr Hogg, the assistant medical officer, and last, but not least, Mr Hamilton, the chief attendant. Mr Hamilton is well qualified for his position, having been for fourteen years chief warder at St. Helena. Physically he is the beau ideal of a warder, measuring 48in. round the chest and built in proportion. He is considered by all to be one of the kindest men possible, and is both firm and gentle with the patients, among whom he is very popular. The duties of the principal officers are lightened by an excellent staff of well-trained and well disciplined attendants and nurses. 

Altogether a visit to Woogaroo is well worth the trouble of anyone who takes an interest in his or her fellow creatures, and those who go over the institution will, I am sure, share with me the conviction that there at least insanity is robbed of most of its horrors, that those who can be cured are restored to health, and those who are incurable have the remnant of their life cheered and comforted by the unremitting care and attention of those in whose charge they are placed

'Gil Blas' visits the Woogaroo Asylum - 1890

Portion of an Architectural drawing of the Male Ward No. 1 at Woogaroo dated 1886.
Queensland State Archives Item ID 580502

In this post I republish two articles by ‘Gil Blas’, concerning life in the Woogaroo Asylum, Goodna, in 1890. The articles are from the National Library of Australia’s on-line newspaper archive, Trove, they paint a fascinating picture of the 19th Century treatment and approach to mental illness as well as colourful stories of inmates in various stages of what was then known as 'lunacy'.

‘Gil Blas’ is probably a pseudonym rather than the author’s true name, and was the name of an early eighteenth century French novel. ‘Gil Blas’ had an eighteen month publishing stint with The Queensland Times, an Ipswich based newspaper.  I found 61 articles by ‘Gil Blas’ starting in July 1889 which seem to conclude in the November of 1890. 

These two articles were published a week apart in the January of 1890 in the Queensland Times, Ipswich Herald and General Advertiser, Part I on Saturday 11 Jan and Part II on Saturday 18 Jan. They could be seen as part of a series looking at various locations around Ipswich.

The articles provide a snapshot of the Woogaroo Asylum. ‘Gil Blas’ enjoys quoting other sources in his writing. I have attempted to source the quotes and this information is provided within the text as yellow highlighted text. ‘Gil Blas’ does emerge from my quote checking process as a well-read newspaper correspondent, and one with a broad curiosity about matters related to insanity.  

Queensland's Madmen.
No. 1 THE HORRORS AND HAPPINESS OF WOOGAROO.
[By Gil Blas.] 

THE MADNESS OF CAIN
Listen! We were inspecting the only remnant of the early days of Queensland's madhouse — four or five defiant-looking iron bars in a window of the original building — when we heard some unearthly yells, and, passing through into an enclosed yard, I saw the face of a human being, horribly contorted, fixed in a square hole in the door of a crib-like cell, in which he was confined. Terrible, melancholy sight! At times his visage was withdrawn, his hands fixed in the opening, and, with kicks and oaths, he attempted to burst open the door which held him prisoner. "That is the worst man in the asylum," said Dr. Scholes, who kindly accompanied me; — "the only man we have to keep in confinement." And he beckoned to a warder to release the lunatic. His name was Cain M—, a young Irishman, who landed here in 1886, and has been an inmate of the asylum since 1887. What a name is this to brand on a child! Byron has thrown a halo of interest around Cain; but who can imagine a parent so admiring, or so lost to reason, as to give his child, in all its innocence and helplessness, the name of the first murderer? But let that pass. "We import about 17 percent of our lunatics," said the Doctor; and Cain was one of these. When dressed he bounded out of his prison, shook hands all round, demanded his watch and freedom, and then, in the wildest frenzy, cursed England at one time, and the Parnellites [a nationalist parliamentary party in Ireland] at another, knelt down, and made the sign of the cross. "Come now, Cain," said the doctor, at length, in a kindly manner ; "you must have your tea. Be a good boy." Suddenly the wild ferocity left the countenance of the madman; he looked at us with a piteous Irish smile, and begged the Doctor's pardon in the most apologetic language. Gleanes of mental enlightenment came over him for a time in the sacred flame of kindness and sympathy.

"Oh, Reason! who shall say what spells renew,
When least we look for it, thy broken clue;
Through what small vistas o'er the darkened brain
[quoting Father Oswald (1842)]

The intellectual daydream bursts again! But alas! the beam of intelligence was transitory, for, as we passed through the refectory, where some Chinamen were preparing supper, the wild shouts of this unhappy mortal fell upon our ears.

Doctor Richard Scholes was the superintendent at the Woogaroo Asylum from 10 December 1881, until his death at home within the asylum precinct on 8 July 1898. Immediately prior to his term in the Woogaroo Asylum he had been the superintendent at the Callan Park (or Callan Creek) Asylum in Sydney.

WILD FLOWERS OF INSANITY
"There is something sacred about insanity," says a learned writer. "The traditions of every country agree in flinging a halo of mysterious distinction around the unfortunate individual stricken with so sad and so lonely a visitation." [quoting Kate Sanborn (1885) The Vanity and Insanity of Genius] Fiction is made weird and attractive by a maniacal character. "The grey hairs of King Lear," says a critic, "are silvered over with additional veneration when he raves; and the wild flower of insanity is the tenderest that decks the pure garland of Ophelia." [quoting Francis Sylvester Mahony (1836) The reliques of Father Prout] Dean Swift, who was lost in the wilderness of thought, before he sank into the grave, in his sensible days. "Willed the little wealth he had to build a house for people mad." [QUOTE] And the author of "The Scarlet Letter," in saying that " the founders of a new colony, whatever Utopia of human virtue and happiness they might originally project, have invariably recognised it among their earliest practical necessities to allot a portion of the virgin soil as a cemetery, and another portion as a site for a prison," [quoting Nathaniel Hawthorne (1850) The Scarlet Letter] overlooked the melancholy fact that a portion is also generally required for a madhouse. Madness, however, is said to be of rare occurrence among rude and untutored nations. But Queensland, at any rate, has got its fill — 993 being at present on her register — and if we are losing any of that deferential homage paid to it in the ancient times, and replacing that homage with care and commiseration, we cannot be blamed.

THE CAUSES.
As we passed through the buildings I asked the Doctor if most of it was not caused through drink. "Well, no," he replied; "that is an erroneous idea. Look at the women. They are nearly as numerous as the men, and they are, on the whole, temperate and respectable people." Dr. Scholes is an authority on lunacy, and his opinion on this point is worthy of attention. On being pressed, he said that perhaps about 20 percent were the victims of drink, adding that many who suffer from delirium tremens never reach the asylum. From the returns published for 1888, I find that, of 260 persons admitted, the insanity of thirty three was caused by drink. The causes generally given are ambition, vanity, avarice, intemperance, and the fury of sexual passion; but we shall discuss these afterwards.

IN THE DORMITORIES.
We had now gained the upper rooms, and were inspecting the dormitories. Many of the rooms are large, but the accommodation for 490 males, in seven wards, is not sufficient, sixteen and seventeen beds being placed in some of the rooms. The floors are scrupulously clean, the sheets immaculately white, and the low iron bedsteads as comfortable as those to be found in the best boarding schools. Some of the patients, for an unknown reason, refuse to sleep on a bedstead, and are therefore accommodated in one room with beds upon the floor. Many of them frequently hide under all the bed clothes, to shield themselves from some imaginary enemies, who haunt them in their sleep. Patients suffering from convulsions are provided with beds on boards, having water-proof sheetings. Everything is of asylum make. Two or three warders pace, in the depth of night, the long hall which divides the dormitories in every ward, watching over the slumbering and uneasy victims of the evil genius of insanity. The dormitories throughout are splendidly ventilated, and the maniac, rising is his bed, in the first light of the morning, can, like Giovanni, in Hawthorne's tale, look upon a garden and scenery beautiful with luxuriant vegetation, the sun's rays gilding the dewdrops on the shrubs and flowering plants, and the Brisbane River, within a stones throw, coursing its way peacefully to the sea. Does this symbolic language, I wonder, serve, as it did the ill-fated Giovanni, to keep him, even for an instant, in communion with Nature?

HORRORS ON HORRORS’ HEWD
"This is the hospital ward," said the Doctor, as we entered another section of the grounds, and gazed on a large verandahed building. What a heart-rending spectacle presents itself! The place has a strange and melancholy hue. It reminds me of the sights which De Quincey saw in the most terrible of his opium dreams. [Referencing Thomas De Quincey (1821) Confessions of an opium-eater] Here is the miserable hypochondriac and the victim of gloomy insanity. Would you care to see the ugly Mongolian of everyday life a grinning idiot? Here he is, surrounded, too, by many of his Celestial brethren, "as mad as hatters," for there are not fewer than forty or fifty of them in the institution. And there are the idiot boys, whose intellectual orb has been forever dimmed, two looking as if they had emerged from the grave, or as if they were the victims of leprosy. Would that death put an end to their misery! On a seat by the wall are a number of men, oblivious of everything, dying in the last stages of consumption. Here is a young man whom the Doctor himself fed for months, by means of a tube, now quite fatuous. He is tall, and was, at one time, one of the smartest stockmen in the North. Dr. Scholes has done everything that he could think of to renew his life; he even went so far as to try Dr. Brown-Sequard's 'elixir. ' but the case is hopeless. 

Doctor Brown-Sequard’s elixir was, if you were wondering, an extract of dog and guinea pig testicles that was administered by injection in the hope of improving vitality. He published his work in the Lancet of 1889 with the title “The effects produced on man by subcutaneous injection of a liquid obtained from the testicles of animals.”

A Spanish Manilla man, with fine features, paces the yard, talking wildly in the language of Castalar. What is he saying? Possibly it is, as usual, but "A tale told by an idiot, Full of noise and fury, signifying nothing." [quoting Walter Scott’s (1808) “The life of Dryden”] On a bed, on the verandah, was a handsome youth, who had lost his senses and the use of his limbs in an accident. Five men are confined to their beds, which are of curious make. A man looks after these patients all night, and some idea of the arduousness of his duties may be gleaned from the fact that the [sheets] have to be changed under each patient not fewer than twenty times, and as many as thirty and forty changes have to be made on some nights. In a section of another ward we found some patients playing billiards and other games, and, in going into the dormitory I noticed some refined and cultured men, who, from over-work or too much study, perhaps had passed into the regions of insane thought. Persons of this class are accommodated with small bedrooms on the upper floor. More than 50 percent of the patients admitted may be regarded as incurables.

A GLEAM OF HAPPINESS
The field outside, in which hay is made, was crowded with patients, most of them idling their time away, in a listless manner, for work, which goes on during the day — and the nature of which I will describe next week — had now ceased. Two or three hundred yards away was No. 6 ward. In passing through the grounds, one could not help stopping to gaze in admiration. The whole place is like a garden of Eden, and flourishes uninfluenced by its melancholy surroundings. The Doctor's appearance in the different wards was hailed with manifestations of the greatest joy; he knows the whims of every patient, calls them by their familiar names, and, wherever he went he threw a gleam of happiness around him, which was shared by the merry and melancholy alike. Such a breadth of human sympathy is rarely witnessed in a man with so much authority.

HOW THEY DINE.
It was now tea-time, and the patients were partaking of tea and bread and butter. The bread, which is made in the institution, being as far as I could judge of the very best quality. The "niggers" and Chinamen are not fed at the same table as the white patients. At other meals they have beef and potatoes, and porridge and bread and butter and tea. The knives, spoons, and forks are scrupulously clean, cleanliness throughout being one of the remarkable features of the institution. The patients addicted to bad habits are allowed only a spoon. One of the patients in this ward had two little pet birds, feeding, and tied near the table. When supper was over the patients indulged in a smoke, played billiards, cards, and dominoes, and afterwards retired to bed.

THE PECULIAR PEOPLE
Mr. W. P. Frith gives, in his delightful "Reminiscences," his experiences in lunatic asylums and accounts of his conversations with madmen, which are, in one light, extremely amusing. But there are some men in Woogaroo with ideas as strange as those entertained by any persons in the world. One man is gone on the "Divisity," another is the superintendent, and another a great lawyer who was about to give the Doctor a cheque for £1000. Some seemed intelligent enough at times, but, in a few minutes, they would get lost, and "The delicate chain Of thought, once tangled, could not clear again." [quoting Thomas Moore, probably from Fraser’s Magazine, Volume 10 (1834)]. One tall, wild-looking man reminded me of Yégof, the fool, in one of Erckmann-Chatrian's powerful novels. [Erckmann & Chatrain were collaborative novelists who wrote in French, Yegof appears in the titles of two works published in 1861 and 1862]

THE WOMEN'S WARDS
On approaching the women's ward, some three or four hundred yards away from the mens, I heard unearthly noises, as some of the more violent damsels were retiring to bed. There are 384 females accommodated in six wards. Some were old, haggard-looking creatures, on the brink of the grave. About ninety married females are admitted yearly.

THE TIES OF LOVE
The Doctor was surrounded on all sides. One young woman piteously asked to be allowed to send a telegram to her husband, and, on being informed that the patients were not permitted to send telegrams, asked for letter-paper and a pen and ink, with which the nurse was instructed to provide her. Then she begged permission to leave within a few days. "I feel better today, Doctor," she said pleadingly. "How long have you been here?" said the Doctor; and she answered, "Two days." The poor woman had evidently lost the faculty of memory. Another woman demanded also permission to go to her husband and a single girl asked, "When will the Toowoomba asylum be opened, Doctor?" "You don't surely want to go,” said Dr. Scholes, "and leave Tommy. You know you are to be married to Tommy." Who "Tommy" was I did not inquire, but the unfortunate girl held down her head coyly, the light sparkled in her eyes, and she said she would remain.

STRANGE CHARACTERS AND AMBITIONS
A big Irishwoman, like those to be seen in the streets of Dublin, asked for a "Christmas box." The Doctor said it was too late, now, for such presents, but he would give her one next year; when she replied, with a wild laugh, "I'd be dead entirely, sir, in a month, if I remained here till then!" An old grey headed lady — I do not reflect on her age — told me that the coaches were then being got ready, and that the clerks were just finishing up for the day. When we went outside, some twenty or thirty patients flocked around the Doctor, some to engage in a flirtation — a weakness for which is to be found even in the insane. Amongst them was a grown-up child — a big woman — with a dormant understanding, a bright vivacious little girl, who looked like a Spaniard, and who strongly protested against being called "Black Mary" in the presence of a stranger. A number of the woman sat motionless, and laughed with the wild vacant laugh of a female maniac. Most of the girls, however, appeared to be thoroughly happy.

MYSTERIOUS AND ROMANTIC
The night nurses were then coming on duty — most of them handsome and healthy-looking girls — and, after partaking of refreshments with the Doctor, I passed out of the asylum for the insane, and looked back, with a depressed mind, towards this great institution, and thought of the depth of mystery and romance which surrounded the 1000 unhappy mortals who rave in Woogaroo from one end of the year to another, and hundreds of whom are destined to go raving into the unseen world beyond the grave.

(to be continued.)

Queensland's Madmen, No. II.
WOOGAROO: ITS LIGHT AND SHADE.
[BY GIL BLAS.]

HOPELESSLY LOST.
"Yes," said Dr. Hogg, as we passed slowly along the gravelled walks that lead to the different wards, "more than one-half of those who enter Woogaroo are incurably insane." Xerxes, it is related, wept when he viewed his immense army, and considered that not one of that great multitude would be alive in one hundred years afterwards. How much more cause has the stranger to weep, or feel sad and depressed, when, upon looking over this picturesque little colony, he considers that most of its wretched inhabitants are irrecoverably lost as the wild sea of insanity, "without sail and without steerage," as Dante expresses it? [Dante, The Divine Comedy]

WHENCE DO THEY COME?
But why have we such an agglomeration of human misery in Queensland -- a colony so young and so bountiful! "Seventeen per cent, of our lunatics are imported," said Dr. Scholes. What a fierce condemnation of our present immigration system is this I Ten percent of those admitted yearly are recent arrivals; others stagger on for a year, or perhaps more, when their minds fall into the inevitable wreck, and they are thenceforward "in wandering mazes lost." [probably quoting Milton, Paradise Lost] Many have been in asylums in the old country, and, upon partially recovering, they were "Sent afloat, With nothing but the sky for a greatcoat," [quoting The Reliques of Father Prout, 1836] and eventually they drifted into Woogaroo. Since the year 1809, up to the beginning of last year, 711 English, 218 Scotch, 899 Irish, and 282 Australians were admitted, 473 of the English and 471 of the Irish being males. Of the total (2800), 586 were labourers and 779 persons engaged in domestic duties (253 being servant.girls). Four hundred and twenty-five of the 925 patients remaining in the institution, at that time, were Protestants, and 327 Roman Catholics. Each patient costs the State £26 15s. 4d. annually.

THE ROOTS OF THE EVIL.
It is needless to say that much of the evil spirit has been inherited, for the hereditary influence has been recognised since the time of Aristotle and Herodotus "I inherited," said Dr. Johnson, "a vile melancholy from my father, which has made me mad all my life-at least, not sober." [quoting Samuel Johnson, a quote found in a number medical journals of 1849, eg. The Lancet, or from Boswell’s 1799 biography of Johnson] And, in going through the asylum, you will meet father and son, mother and daughter, mother, daughter, and grand-daughter, brother and sister, and even husband and wife. Twenty percent, again, is caused by intemperance-outlandish drunkenness, so common in the colonies, which makes a man " His country's curse, his children's shame--Outcast of virtue, peace and fame;" [quoting Thomas Moore] and, in many cases, by over-work and over-study, individuals have been seen wandering into the regions of fantastic thought. "How often has splendid talent been its own executioner?' says old Prout, " and the best gift of heaven supplied the dart that bereft its possessor of all that maketh existence valuable !" [This quote could be from Fraser’s Magazine for Town and Country, Vol 10, 1834 … an article entitled he ‘Dean Swift’s Madness: a tale of Churn].

A PILGRIM FROM THE BLARNEY STONE.
As we went through the grounds, inspecting the industries, we came upon patients of different moods and temperaments. The light heart of the Irishman is not bowed down even by insanity. As a maniac, he is, as Madame de Boufflers, of "Les Miserables," would say, "a charming fool." In one place I met a low-sized Hibernian, with a spade on his shoulder, dancing to the air of a national song And here is a big, powerful man, whose face lights up as we approach him, and who salutes us in the sweet Irish brogue, which is as pure now as it was when he roamed on his native hills. He reminded me of the Shaughruan, in Boucicault's play. But "Don't hope to hinder him, Or to bewilder him; Sure he's a pilgrim From the Blarney Stone!" [This in an 1835 addition to an R. A. Milliken poem, Groves of the Blarney, by Francis Mahoney, or 'Father Prout'] And, as his memories gathered, he poured out, with a humorous touch, some of his reminiscences at that awful castle "where bats and badgers are forever bred." [Milliken, Groves of the Blarney] "How much of the Bible have you eaten now, Tom ?" asked the Doctor, at length. He assumed an air of gravity, and pulling out, from inside his shirt, a part of the Sacred Book, he replied, "Up to Jeremiah." Tom has been eating the Book, for a long time, at the rate of two pages a day, in accordance with what he conceives to be the Divine command to " read, mark, learn and inwardly digest." This is the pivot on which his mind twirls.

THE INDUSTRIES.
About half the patients in the institution are engaged at one occupation or another. Nearly 500 persons are, therefore, employed daily from 9 a.m. till 4 p.m., with the exception of an hour and a half for dinner. According to all authorities, specially-adapted physical exercises are necessary for the recovery of the insane. At first sight, Woogaroo appears like an ideal commonwealth. It has its tailoring establishment and large bakery, a store in which there are not fewer than 800 articles of different descriptions; a saw mill turning out all classes of timber; it's carpenters shops, doing work of every description, and three or four blacksmiths are working from one end of the year to the other. All the furniture necessary for the institution is made on the premises, the insane tradesmen being supervised, in each department, by one or two experienced men. The water is pumped, by the engine which works the saw-mill, from a dam on the grounds into a reservoir, whence it gravitates all over the institution.

DAIRYING, &C.
Woogaroo has a large number of dairy cows, so that all the milk--which is used for nourishing the maniacs-being under the immediate inspection of the doctors, is of the most reliable quality. The amount of disease conveyed to humanity by milk and its products is greater than is generally imagined. For instance, an outbreak of typhoid fever in England, a few months ago, was coincident and actually caused by a teat-eruption in the milch cows. Supervision in this respect is extremely necessary in Queensland. About 430lb. of butter is consumed, weekly, by the patients, which, however, is supplied from outside. Here, too, you can see the pure Ayr-shire breed of cattle, whose great merit is their peculiar fitness for the dairy. There is also to be seen a splendid collection of Berkshire pigs, which are fed on cooked food, chiefly the refuse of the tables.

THE CHALICE OF BITTERNESS.
Let us leave these, however, for the present. As we crossed the grounds, in order to inspect the other buildings, on the top of the hill, the conversation turned to the different phases of madness to be found in men. The distemper presents itself, of course, in various forms some violent and others mild. Many of the ancient philosophers held that all deviations from right reason were madness. The Doctor, who keeps a book in which the fantastic, demoniacal, and other ideas of the lunatics are recorded, related some instances which would make one's bones shake. Many of the maniacs fancy they hear "voices," like the great Joan of Arc, and forthwith they proceed to obey them. Despite the strict guard which is put upon them, some of the patients, on account of this, have ruined themselves for life. A German suffering from a religious mania drew the heart of a sinful man with animals and figures representing different vices, and a representation of hell, with the devil leading a woman to the entrance, and the woman attracting a man. "The chalice of bitterness, mixed for mankind, Must be quaffed by us all," says Lamartine, in one of his spirited poems; but what a draught some of these unhappy creatures must have taken to get drunk in unending woe!

PLEASING SPECTACLES
Entering one of the buildings, I found the Rev. J. A. Taylor, of Ipswich, conducting a service to a good and attentive congregation. Services are held regularly, the Protestant ministers and Roman Catholic priests visiting the institution frequently. The walls of the different wards are painted artistically - the work being done by the patients - and brightened by pictures, thickly hung, in Oxford frames - the work of the joiners. My gratification at the picturesque appearance of the grounds I expressed to the Doctor, who was not, of course, surprised. Before you, on all sides, are shrubs and flowering-plants of different varieties, and "All flowers that scent The sweet open air," set off with much of tile Italian richness of line and breadth of light and shadow. "The sense of oppression," says the Scripture, "maketh a man mad ;" but here the obedient lunatics, at any rate, are placed under little restriction, being allowed to wander over acres of ground, the surroundings of which are extremely healthy.

IN THE KITCHEN
After viewing a large vegetable-garden, in which Chinese and white men are employed, we entered the kitchen, which is fitted up with the latest appliances. A range of copper boilers, with innumerable taps, run along the right-hand side of the building. Every article of food is cooked in these, by steam, supplied, through invisible pipes, from two engines at the rear of the kitchen. Three ton of potatoes are cooked here every week. Boutham's "patent kitchener" is also fitted up, as well as an iron cupboard, heated with steam, for keeping dishes in a warm condition. Two paid cooks are in charge of this department, and they are assisted, of course, by a number of patients.

THE LAUNDRY AND THE SEWING ROOM.
Passing into the females' section, we entered the laundry, where some thirty or forty women were employed, working washing machines of every description, mangling-machines, &c.; all the machinery being driven by steam. Five hundred weight of soap, Mr. Broderick, the accountant, assured me, is used here weekly. The building is fitted up with a drying-closet, in which clothes are dried by artificial heat during wet weather. From forty to sixty women are engaged in the dress-making establishment, doing all descriptions of needlework.

A WRETCHED CONGREGATION.
Here are situated a number of female wards, the homes of harmless and decrepit patients. Did you ever see two or three hundred women together, whose intellects have been blighted, the light of whose mind is " Now gone; and never to be recalled again !" Perhaps not; the human being, when afflicted, is taken out of the busy crowd,and placed in what is virtually an unseen world, so that society may be allowed to live in peace. Hurrying from among them, and closing our ears against their wild importunities, the Doctor opens a gate, with his master-key, and before us, on a long verandah, paced by three or four nurses, are about sixty women, of all ages, despair sitting on their countenances, and the wild light of insanity sparkling in their eyes. They are some of the worst patients in the institution, the Doctor tells me. There are young girls, with down-cast faces, possessed with "Some secret and unfallowed vein of woe," whose sad thoughts are "full of fatal doom," and who would, if they were permitted, end their lives by suicide. But you do not want a full description, and, even if you did, I could not portray their agonising heart-throes, nor convey to you an idea of their wild shouts and frenzy,

THE HOSPITAL AND THE NURSES.
We then passed through the females' hospital, where six patients were confined to their beds, one poor woman having an infant a day old. The hospital is roomy and well venti-lated, the walls being adorned with pictures. Communication with the different wards and the doctors' quarters is obtained by telephone. On an average there is a nurse to every thirteen female patients. What a noble life these girls lead, with their white aprons, their bunches of keys, and their youthful faces beaming with kindness and sympathy for the victims of this terrible distemper! Victor Hugo rightly describes it as "the loftiest possible height of virtue." [Referencing Victor Hugo (1862) Les Miserables]

AN AWFUL SCENE.
 "Let us pass through quietly," said the Doctor, as we entered the division where the maddest of all the female patients are confined. Glancing around, I observed women, black and white, walking about the place, some waving their hands and shouting wildly. "Infectious horror ran from face to face, And pale despair." We closed the gate, and, after spending on hour or so with Dr. Hogg and his most agreeable wife, and enjoying their princely hospitality, I left Woogaroo; but my thoughts returned to the last ward that I had visited, and the spectacle reminded me of the weary souls, in the "Divi Commedia." gathered together on the banks of the Acheron, cursing God and the authors of their being. [Referencing Dante’s Divine Comedy]