“Just a bit barmy”: The Princess Christian Farm Colony and Hospital 1900-2000
By Joyce Field
Most KAS members will have heard about the appalling conditions of lunatic asylums in Victorian times. Sadly, they often continued to be grim into our lifetime. However, there was one Victorian doctor, John Langdon-Down (‘Down’s syndrome’ was named after him) who, together with his two doctor sons, established a successful scheme to change the lives of some of those who were born with less severe learning disabilities.
Around 1900, they founded a ‘Farm Colony’ which looked after its one hundred and fifty ‘barmy’ men and woman – barmy after the local lunatic asylum in Barming – with humanity, and, for nearly a hundred years, provided them with a happy family atmosphere in which to work and enjoy themselves.
The Princess Christian Farm Colony was in Hildenborough, a small village near Tonbridge in Kent. The Patrons not only included Queen Victoria’s third daughter,
Princess Christian, but various other dignitaries including one Archbishop of Canterbury. The patrons bought two farms which they converted.
They persuaded the twenty-year-old Bertram Clough Williams-Ellis (later to build his village at Portmeirion) to design two other buildings – one for the ‘boys’, as they were always called whatever their ages, and a grander one for the ‘girls’.
The whole idea of the Colony was to provide useful work for the ‘boys’ and ‘girls’, and this became their home. Initially, the work for the ‘boys’ consisted mainly of farm work. They particularly loved their animals, their sheep and pigs and cows – and a pony which did the milk round. Years later, one of the administrators said: “You could not
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Fig 1: The Princess Christian Farm Colony and Hospital Book Cover Top, right
Fig 2: John Langdon Down
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Fig 3: Design for the initial home for twenty-five boys
In the early years, the ‘girls’ primarily worked in the large laundry doing the washing and ironing. They had the most primitive equipment, and it was only in the 1950s that they were given electric irons. But they also had sewing lessons and produced some remarkable work. Some even worked on the Farm, mainly looking after the chickens and making butter. Everyone went for communal walks in the woods or to the local village, although not the ‘boys’ and ‘girls’ together and, when they were able to do so, they had lessons of the type that children in local villages were having.
After the Second World War, by now an NHS hospital, the atmosphere became less regimented, and the local community was encouraged to join in with the Colony. There were weekly film shows and even more trips – usually to the seaside – were arranged. One senior nurse remembers a particular trip. “One of my ‘boys’ always had to take off all his clothes to go to the toilet.
So, on this trip, when he said he ‘had to go’, I found a men’s toilet and went in with him. There was no one there, and he duly took all his clothes off. At that point, a man walked in and started to complain. ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘It’s one of the perks of the job.’ He fled.”
All the staff looked after their patents with the most exceptional care. One story is typical, although it comes from double Olympic gold medal winner, Dame Kelly Holmes. She worked there for nine months before joining the army. “I started working at Princess Christian
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Fig 4: Present Oast House rebuilt in 2001 using the original plans
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Fig 5: Plans and elevations of the Girls’ Home dated 1916
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Fig 6: In the Hygienic Piggery
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Fig 7: Occupational Therapy
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Fig 8: Milking
Fig 9: In the Poultry Run Fig 10: Outdoor work
Fig 11: Girls’ Home with staff standing outside when I was seventeen – two of the patients particularly touched my heart. One was a smoker, and I spent a lot of time teaching him how to catch the bus and pay for the cigarettes. He came back as proud as punch. It was fantastic to have helped him achieve this new level of independence – the other man, a lovely Down’s guy, in his late sixties. I used to take him to Rehab and play games and puzzles with him, and when he’d [finished his treatment], he’d walk towards me with a huge beaming smile on his face. Three weeks after I left to join the army, one of the staff phoned me to say he had died. I was heartbroken. But I’ve never forgotten him. Helping those men towards little improvements in their lives was one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done.”
The Colony developed over the century and was well ahead of its time. It had progressed into its type of ‘Care in the Community’ well before it became the very sensible Government policy in the 1980s.
Was the Princess Christian Farm Colony better than the ‘Care in the Community’ we have today? In some ways, it was – it provided a long-term ‘family’ and friendship, which is difficult for people with learning disabilities to have when they live in their flat. However, it was unusual. It was small and not like the large mental hospitals which society was right to change for the ‘Care in the Community’ we have today. The debate on whether the Farm colony should have been closed rumbles on amongst those who knew the little hospital. What is clear, however, is that the individuals who lived there loved it and were looked after with care and dignity.
NOTE:
Rowley, C., Just a Bit Barmy – The Princess Christian farm Colony and Hospital 1895–1995:
ISBN 978-0-9539340-4-1
220 pages in colour with 60 photos and maps.
£20 from Sevenoaks Bookshop or Chris Rowley (plus £5 p&p), telephone 01732 833176.
