Latest news with #BethlemRoyalHospital
Indian Express
6 days ago
- Health
- Indian Express
This English word is derived from the infamous history of a mental asylum — take a guess
When we say a scene is 'bedlam', we usually mean it's in utter chaos—loud, disorganised, almost out of control. But few realise that the word has its origins in a very real and very grim chapter of medical history: a medieval mental hospital in London. Here's how a single institution gave English one of its most evocative words for madness. The word 'bedlam' is a corruption of 'Bethlem,' short for Bethlem Royal Hospital, which was founded in 1247 in London as the Priory of St Mary of Bethlehem. Originally a religious institution, it began admitting mentally ill patients by the early 14th century and evolved into Europe's most infamous psychiatric hospital. By the 1600s, Bethlem had gained notoriety for its inhumane conditions, and patients were often chained, left in filth, and subjected to violent or bizarre treatments like bloodletting and purging. As the institution's name filtered into English usage, the pronunciation gradually shifted. The Middle English form Bedlem soon became bedlam, a more phonetically simplified variant that stuck. By the 17th century, the word had taken on a figurative meaning far beyond its geographical origins. It began to refer to any scene of uproar and confusion, directly inspired by the state of the hospital itself, where screaming, moaning, and hysteria reigned. Shockingly, Bethlem became a form of public entertainment. In the 1600s and 1700s, people could pay a small fee (sometimes just a penny) to visit the hospital and gawk at the patients, as if it were a human zoo. Some records suggest that hundreds of thousands of Londoners visited Bedlam annually, often treating the mentally ill as curiosities rather than people. This tragic voyeurism further cemented bedlam in public imagination as a synonym for frenzy, madness, and grotesque chaos. The infamous hospital and its treatment of the patient also inspired a movie by the name of 'Bedlam'. Over time, medical understanding of mental illness evolved, and Bethlem Royal Hospital was reformed. It still exists today as part of the NHS, offering modern psychiatric care under its historical name. The word bedlam serves as a linguistic relic, reminding us how far we've come in mental health care, and how language preserves both progress and prejudice. What we casually use to describe a noisy classroom or chaotic traffic jam was once the name of a real place of suffering, and public mockery.
Rhyl Journal
26-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Rhyl Journal
Bank Holiday bonanza at local parkruns
There were a few 'new' parkruns on the list this week, but the usual favourites Penrhyn and Nova at Prestatyn drew big crowds, with a and fair numbers of Conwy parkrunners also at Nant y Pandy and Greenfield Valley . Most runs experienced a good turnout, with numbers swelled by the Bank Holiday Weekend. Parkruns visited by Conwy parkrunners this week included: Birkenhead, Nant y Pandy, Nova Prestatyn, Penrith, Greenfield Valley, Ruthin Memorial Playing Fields, Penrhyn, Muncaster Castle, Bethlem Royal Hospital, Exmouth, Park in the Past, Victoria Dock, Burnham and Highbridge.
BBC News
26-05-2025
- Health
- BBC News
Torture or treatment? The rise of Nottingham's pioneering asylum
"One can hardly imagine a human being in a more degraded and brutalised condition than that in which I found this female."These were the damning words of an inspector who visited London's Bethlem Royal Hospital in 1814 - better known by its notorious nickname, while such harrowing scenes had long been the norm, a quiet revolution in mental healthcare was already under way. It started not in the capital, but in new publishings into the groundbreaking Nottingham General Lunatic Asylum - the first publicly-funded asylum in England - has shone light into some of medical history's darkest corners. When the institution opened in 1812, the asylum had already doubled its projected cost, with the final bill reaching £20,000 - an eye-watering sum for the era. Author and researcher David Whitfield has drawn on his extensive study of the institution for his latest novel, The Unravelling of Mary Reddish, which brings to life the true story of a former said: "It is very easy to look back and be shocked and appalled by the things that went on."But when you look at letters and speeches of the people who set Nottingham up, you get a different perspective."It is unlikely to come as a surprise that the treatment of the mentally ill in earlier centuries was grim - but just how grim takes some vomiting and diarrhoea, bleeding, blistering with hot irons, spinning and cold water immersion were all recommended - in addition to simply being chained to a wall for weeks on end. Victoria Sweetmore, head of mental health and learning disability nursing at the University of Derby, is also studying for a PhD on the history of nursing at the University of Nottingham."What you had is people living in private mad houses, private institutions," she said. "There was absolutely no kind of oversight of these places, they were just run by anybody who fancied running one."There were no standards. There was just nothing. So people were kept in appalling conditions, you know, kind of chained up left with rags, fed scraps. "On top of that they were treated like zoos, with people paying to come and see the inmates."For a time in the 18th Century, Bedlam was the second most popular attraction in London and measures had to be taken to deal with visitor overcrowding during the Christmas and Easter in turn attracted thieves, pedlars and prostitutes, but also a level of critical scrutiny. Ms Sweetmore said: "It was increasingly felt that this wasn't acceptable. "So there was this real push towards making sure that as a society we were looking after people, particularly what they term the pauper lunatics who were either being held in workhouses, in prisons, at home or often just forced to wander the streets."The issue was also twice highlighted by King George III who in 1788 suffered a mental breakdown, and then in 1800 survived an assassination attempt by a man who was saved from the noose by a new and much wider application of the insanity led to the County Asylums Act 1808, which allowed local authorities to raise public funds for the care of mentally ill people in regulated years of fitful private fundraising, this spurred community leaders in Nottingham to open the Nottingham General Lunatic in extensive gardens in the fields of Sneinton, shielded from public gaze and away from the noise of the city, it was the first of its kind in the country. Mr Whitfield said a new ethos of "moral treatment" did not mean a move to modern said: "Looking back, it seems very dark to us because of the kind of treatments that were used back then."There was the chair, the purges, the emetics, all these things that were designed to try and essentially drag bad things out of people, which is how it was seen."Having said that, at the time, it was set up to be quite humane."The rooms were clean, the patients had privacy, restraints were kept to a minimum and staff were instructed to display "tenderness and gentleness"." Possible insights into the limits of the therapies available at Nottingham comes from the 1814 accounts which show that of the £1427 annual spend, £137 went on beer and ale, £9 9s on wine and just £7 6s on medicines. Mr Whitfield turned some of findings into his novel, focusing on a real life patient, Mary admitted in 1827 her first medical record stated "her moral conduct has not been correct"."That's the only clue as to what she really had," he said."Her notes go on to say "violent, incoherent, impetuous" and she is described as a "violent lunatic" – but in terms of diagnosis in terms of what we would know it, that is completely absent."But when you look at it in a broader sense, in particular why women were in there, they seem to be things we think of as common today."Things that sound like post natal depression, menopause - or a "change in constitution" as it was described - and "disappointed affection" which could simply be a bad break up." Mary was subjected to the chair, which spun the patient around until they passed it was reported that "good effects are ascribed to the chair and she continues to improve in mind and body".Mr Whitfield said: "Who knows what this really means? I've had to take a view of this in the book but you can only go on what the doctor has chosen to write down at the time."While 'treatments' like spinning and blistering were phased out, Nottingham's asylum soon came to face a challenge common with modern healthcare - built to house 80 people, by the end of 1857 it held 247 - 130 men and 117 these 31 were deemed potentially curable. The fate of the incurable can also be glimpsed the same year, when the last remaining private patient, a woman, died after almost 39 years in the decades took their toll on the institution, and with patient numbers still climbing, new asylums had to be built further 1891, with buildings aging and the expanding city crowding around, commissioners described the original asylum as "inconvenient, ill constructed [and] ill adapted".It closed in 1902, with most of the buildings knocked down soon after - though the site, now a public park, was not fully cleared until the only reminder is a plaque on the final surviving fragment, a red brick pillar which formed part of an entrance Sweetmore added: "Asylums were largely closed down in the late 20th Century but places like Nottingham, for all their failings, were a big step away from what went before."
