The legacy of Walsall's Workhouse.

Walsall Manor Hospital now stands on the site.

Most of us living in and around the Walsall area, have at some time been either an inpatient, an outpatient, a staff member, a visitor or simply one of the many who repeatedly circle the car park at Walsall's Manor Hospital, with their face an ever increasing shade of red and plumes of comical smoke exuding from their ears. Inside their vehicle, air tinged blue by the choice language spontaneously voiced during this search for a space to "Pay-and-display" for the purpose of enjoying an entertaining family outing at the hospital (because only a luxurious treat warrants that kind of suffering). Having availed themselves of a ticket upon entering the labyrinth (designed by Escher himself), exists a nagging reminder in the back of said driver's mind of a meter spinning so rapidly that only a London cabbie could fail to be alarmed. Adding another £1 with every circuit, passing by the same vehicles that seem more like they've been abandoned there, exiting this waking nightmare quickly becomes infuriatingly impossible due to the expense as well as the shameful admission of defeat in such a seemingly simple task. Formerly fit and healthy individuals are sure to be on the verge of a coronary event by the time they finally reach the foyer.

  Others, arriving by public transport, in a "ring-a-ride" vehicle, a transport ambulance, on foot or in an emergency vehicle; few have any thoughts other than negotiating the vague directions and procedures described in the documents clutched tightly within a sweaty grip, achieving their objective and leaving as quickly as possible. 

  How many of us spare a thought about the past purposes of the people treading that same path as us in this place? For as long as we've known it, this has been a place devoted to healing, but in fact, this particular incarnation has only existed for the past 100 years. 

  The Manor itself (by which name it's commonly known) expanded and changed substantially during that period, incorporating a greater number and variety of medical disciplines; treating patients that previously attended smaller outlying "cottage hospitals".   Designated as "inefficient" these once essential institutions have one by one, since closed their doors as a single centralised location became (we're told) the most cost effective alternative. Costly maintenance of crumbling maternity hospitals, psychiatric units, specialist opthalmic infirmaries, paediatric hospitals, dental teaching facilities, sanitariums and institutes for rehabilitation; frequently extravagant and grandiose structures set amid vast grounds, many of which were donated to the public by wealthy philanthropists specifically for this purpose (public usage), but somehow proved to be far more valuable when sold to developers, eagerly seeking space to erect exclusive residential properties. 

  On a sunny day, staff, patients and visitors can be seen sitting on every available piece of grass, enjoying an infrequent lustrous spell together, or simply enjoying a peaceful lunch break free from the busy medical environment.

Still keeping a vigil after 125 years.

  Opposite the main entrance, stands a small garden area that but for the oversized LGBT flag, would go unnoticed. Here shady bowers, shrubs, seasonal flora and a couple of seats provide a space for those who's needs had tested the limitations of this resource's capacity for healing. Perhaps a shock, an unexpected prognosis, a member of staff that had seen too much sorrow for one day or even a partner preparing to make that unexpected journey home alone; a peaceful space set aside from the hustle and bustle of the world where the unfortunate that wandered pensively in can stop the spinning Chaos for a few moments. Perhaps shed silent, private tears, find temporary composure and solitude in a place that never sleeps. Given their situation, it's unlikely that even they noticed the wall against which this space stands and the building of which it's an integral part

  This structure that increasingly appears out of place amid its modern surroundings has stood watch over the changing landscape in the vicinity for more than 125 years. The three storey Grade II listed property is often wrongly described as "A deserted former workhouse and office block".  Whilst it was originally the offices of the Board of Guardians of Walsall Poor Law Union, the expansive workhouse that was erected on the site, took the place of outlying workhouses including those at Bloxwich and Darlaston in 1838. Construction was overseen by The Walsall Poor Law Union elected board of 19 guardians representing 8 constituent parishes. The 1931 census establishes that 24,931 persons resided in the region incorporated by the union. Much like today's harsh cost cutting decisions, the £7,300 spent on the new workhouse at the junction of Moat Road and Pleck Road would accommodate 350 inmates with the former sites being made available for sale or repurposing.

1913 plan of the Walsall workhouse 

   The First Victorian workhouse in the Walsall area was opened in 1727, housing 130 inmates. Extended in 1799, records show one "Henry Lucas" as it's governor, standing on Hill street.

  Bloxwich had a workhouse on Elmore green (Formerly Chapel green). In 1776, it's recorded as housing and was located on what is now a shopper's car park on Elmore row. Closing in 1838, houses numbers 14 - 18 replaced it, with no. 19 being the former home of the workhouse master, later becoming a shop called "Fanny Beech's", demolished in 1937.

  A parish workhouse was built in Darlaston in 1813, near the corner of St. George's street and The Green.

  The Walsall poor law union was formally established on 10th December 1836. The 19 "Guardians" elected to oversee its operation, represented the 8 constituent parishes: Aldridge, Great Barr, Bentley, Pelsall, Rushall, Walsall and Walsall (Foreign). The 1831 census indicates a falling population of 24,931 and an annual average poor rate expenditure for the two years between 1834 - 1836 having been £5,297, or 4s 3d. per head of the population. The erection of the new workhouse, designed by W. Watson, at the junction of Pleck road and Moat road, costing £7,300 with the capacity to contain 350 inmates was one of numerous cost cutting exercises to which we have sadly become accustomed. The new "poor laws" also 

fulfilled a problematic labour shortage in the aftermath of The Black Death, by preventing persons without means from travelling to find work.   Where monasteries (formerly a major source of alms) were dissolved under royal decree, these facilities were a perfect breeding ground for measles and smallpox, with staggering mortality rates. A government survey in 1800 recorded some 90,000 (official) places in England's workhouses. When enacting the Poor Laws, some parishes forced horrendous family situations, for example whereby a husband would sell his wife in order to avoid them becoming a burden, which would then prove costly to local authorities. The laws brought in throughout the 18th century would only help to entrench the accepted system of the workhouse further into society.

A factory style production line focused on profitability.

    The 1834 poor law amendment act (commonly referred to as The New Poor Law), aimed to address the widely held consensus at this time. The system of relief, was believed to have being abused by mere "idlers" and thus, a new approach was required to reduce the excessive cost from cosseting perceived "idlers" - sounds familiar, doesn't it?

  Whilst most inmates were unskilled they could and were frequently used for hard manual tasks, such as breaking rocks and crushing bone to make fertiliser, as well as picking oakum using a large nail called a spike. There was no payed employment for inmates and often, the only way out was in a greying shroud, feet first.

   The 1834 Law therefore formally established the Victorian workhouse system which has become so synonymous with the era. This contributed to the splitting up of families, with people forced to sell what little belongings they had and hoping they could see themselves through this rigorous system. Now under the new system of Poor Law Unions, the workhouses were run by “Guardians”. Usually local businessmen who, Dickens described as merciless administrators, seeking only profit and delighting in the destitution of others. 

  It's said that some existed in the North, where “guardians” reportedly adopted a more charitable approach to their guardianship – the inmates of the many workhouses across the country continued to be at the mercy of the variable characters of their “guardians”. Conditions were invariably deplorable marked by cruel treatment. Families were divided, forcing the separation of children from their parents. With the abundance of highly contagious diseases and rampant malnutrition, childhood mortality was a solemn and everyday event.

  Upon entering a workhouse, a single uniform was issued, to be worn for the entirety of their stay. Conversation between inmates was forbidden, whilst long hours of manual labour such as cleaning, cooking and using machinery were routinely expected.

   The demographic of inmates had changed dramatically, with a large number of elderly and infirm having very different needs,  just as social attitudes to the treatment of the poor and vulnerable altered, with increasing objections to the prior climate of cruelty. 

  By 1929, legislation allowing local authorities to adapt workhouses for use as hospitals. 1930 saw a formal dismantling of the workhouse system, but due to the sheer volume of people trapped in the system with no alternative options available to them since many had known no other life and were entirely without means, it would be several more years before these horrific, inhumane institutions closed and locked their gates for good. 

   Many of the former workhouse structures remain to this day, used by the hospital for various purposes. 

  Following the detestation of world war two (the conflict incurring the greatest loss of life to date), the establishment of the National Health Service and the Welfare State (both institutions that depend on social solidarity to succeed), an extensive litany of legislative, moral and practical changes occured. Not a single individual was unaffected by the horrific events. The awesome scale of need for all kinds of assistance among the British population necessitated measures unlike anything previously provided. 

  For those who witnessed this tragic impact, every penny was well spent in the hope that such extreme provisions should never be required again. Few of those people remain today, but the relics stand as a reminder that nothing is as valuable as the lives of those we love.

  With the introduction of the 1948 National Assistance Act the last remnants of the Poor Laws were eradicated and with them, the sinister policies of the workhouse institution. Buildings may have been changed, repurposed or levelled, the cultural legacy of the cruel conditions and social savagery remains an important part of understanding British history.

In 1945,a landslide electoral victory for the Labour (socialist) party brought about a nationalised healthcare system and a welfare state ,intended to be owned by and for the use of the people of Britain.

  The reason that the NHS and social care services were so successful at this time was because of a single factor. From the number of people suffering trauma and pain, the country developed a sense of solidarity. Everybody recognised this need if Britain was to recover. It meant caring about people other than just you and yours. The central Walsall area, like much of the build up British towns, suffer with severe subsidence problems. Due to numerous shelters and passageways that were essential for the townspeople during the war. 

As time passed and years became decades, some such spaces were flooded, others repurposed, but many were simply sealed-up and forgotten about.

   Two years ago, the rather precarious grade II listed landmark that is a remarkable illustration of how wealth inequality, with all its glaring contradictions can go unnoticed by so many. We should all appreciate the grotesque disparity that so vividly illustrated the despicable way that human beings can treat other human beings and how wealth is by no means any measure of virtue.

   In a pitiful state of disrepair, this historical monument was sold at auction in 2023 for a bargain basement price of £236,000. Whilst the renovation will undoubtedly be costly, unlike many such local properties (in an area notable for the profusion of mine shafts with an abundance of subsidence), it's seated upon solid ground, retaining some truly immaculate original features. Until 15 years ago, parts of the structure were used as office space by hospital administrators. 

  This provides us with a unique opportunity to see the opulence that would have been the last thing of note seen by the deprived and destitute, before all colour and hope drained from their world. When viewing these images, we should each delve deep within ourselves and dredge up any remnants of humanity before such a disgraceful disregard for our fellow man recurs. 

   Peeling paintwork and water damage hasn't affected the exquisite tile work lining these hallways. Bare footed and hungry as they tread into this obscure example of finery belonging to a world of which they are not a part. Bereft of all worldly possessions and fully aware that their child may well be lost to them forever, or separated for so long that their own blood will be just another hard faced stranger. The workhouse existence is a monotone environment exclusively consisting of a grey colour palette. Grey food, clothes, skin, air; the only exception being the bloody evidence of TB, typhus or consumption-coughed up in thick globules and an intermittent spray across a wall and ceiling when complacency resulted in an amputated digit or limb.

  By contrast vibrant colours and stylish design of such a value that this meek newcomer could only dare to dream of. Such cruel taunts would bear no significance to the guardians, entirely unrecognised as the taunting reminder this reluctant applicant could never know of.

  In an era when the theft of a loaf of bread could be punished by the  public hanging of the culprit and although by now less common, the reality of punitive transportation remained a strong deterrent for potential law breakers. Survivors of the arduous, months long journey traversing tempestuous waters, all crammed into the rat infested belly of a ship, then faced a period of time the duration of which, was decided during a legal court hearing (unable to pay for legal representation, their chances of a truly just outcome were non existent) enslaved into indentured servitude. This strange land where everything was seemingly intent on the taking of life. Dominated by vast expanses of unforgiving terrain, filled with wildlife perpetually hungry for flesh, both on land, in water and in the torrid, sweltering, airless atmosphere; Insects, arachnids, serpents and their fearsome "man eating" much larger cousins lurking unseen where appears only an innocuous puddle of mud. 

  Coming from a land where only other humans, hunger and cold endangered one's existence, new arrival's gullibility presented an irresistible source of amusement to their new overlords. By convincing their infantile minds that black was white, night was day and up was down - reality here was effortlessly manipulated for mere amusement. Under such circumstances, physical and sexual abuse was abundant. With no way to measure the passing of time, sentences lacked any clear end date. Sufferance in the new world lacked limitations of duration and of severity.

The Walsall workhouse.

   A concept like social security would be an unthinkable and irrational fantasy. Only a single "safety net" existed by way of the newly created "poor laws" (of which Walsall's workhouse was one example) - funded by nominal governmental funding, donations from businesses and church congregations offerings in the"poor box". Unfortunates with no alternative but to accept a future of interment and hopelessness within an institution, that in return for sustenance -for that is the only way to describe the Dickensian dietary regime consisting of gruel, stale bread and rotting produce served to inmates - a harsh living environment, often pointless gruelling labour under frequently treacherous conditions, without the slightest respite for men and women of all ages and even very young children was expected. A workhouse was in every sense a punishment for the crime of poverty that also served to conceal undesirables from their superiors, behind high, brick walls.

  The number of inmates  consistently exceeded the stated occupancy, leaving the young and the weak sleeping huddled in stairwells, doorways or adopting a single stone step as a meagre element of long term security. 

  The workday started long before sunrise, continuing until well into the night-time hours. Submission and obedience earned a rewarding  hour long Sunday service, during which sermons reinforcing the concept of sufferance and hardship delivering the penitent of the stain sin had brandished upon them. Traipsing back to their workstations- ill fitting wooden clogs against the uneven cobble stones, echoing around the courtyard enclosed within tall block walls heralded the beginning of another long and arduous working week. 

   Having made that fateful and foreboding option, to accept their lot in life as one ever bereft of the smallest luxury or privelidge. This would be made abundantly clear as a "Guardian" upon whom their future depended would, adorned in flamboyant silks of such finery, few would ever know, now picked apart  the character, mocking illiteracy and ignoring an ever growing volume of gastric reminders that food was unfamiliar within the workhouse life.

   The extravagant luxury in which the Victorian guardians would have been clad as they judged their new charge without pity. Once accepted into this space, designed for punitively tormenting the "have-nots". Each of the poverty stricken was issued with a single outfit that would be worn during the entire remainder of their days labouring there. Males and females existed entirely separately - reminiscent of Eugenics, such segregation ensured only the worthiest genes would succeed. 

   Here, they are pictured in their earliest days, before they had tie to be patched, extended, lengthened, waistlines and chests let-out. A monogram might indicare the "name" and "position" or "duties".

   An inspection by The Lancet in 1867, finding the facility to be in superficially good order, also pointed out a number of serious defects. Extracts from the report follow....