Broadmoor Revealed: Victorian Crime and the Lunatic Asylum

While this is just a cursory glance at Broadmoor lunatic asylum patients, this is still a fascinating read. Dr. Miner is included, but of course his life and involvement with OED is better detailed in its own book. Here we have details on would-be assassins, mother infanticides, a chronology of detailed escapes, and the birth and fate of various babies born at Broadmoor. A good history of the "pleasure men" and "pleasure women" found criminally insane and held by the crown until the majesty's "pleasure" be known.

My first ever Kindle read – and what a cracking one! I love books that deal with social history and I love the Victorian period so what’s not to love! Stevens writes about cases using Broadmoor’s archive. Cases include those of Victorian artist Richard Dabb and ‘the chocolate poisoner’, Christiana Edmunds.

Dabb was featured on a programme Jeremy Paxman did on BBC1 a few years ago called 'The Victorians' about artists and art of that period, which was an excellent series, so it was nice to read a bit more about him. Dadd, thought now to be suffering from paranoid schizophrenia, murdered his father and fled to France, where he was quickly captured. He remained institutionalised for the remainder of his life.

Christiana Edmunds show more turned poisoner after the married doctor she was having a relationship with broke off that relationship – first she tried poisoning the doctor’s wife and then began buying chocolates from a shop in Brighton where she lived, lacing them with poison and then returning them as ‘unwanted’. They were then bought by unsuspecting members of the public. She was eventually discovered and she, like Dadd, spent the rest of her life locked up.

The book also explores other lesser-known, but equally interesting cases, and also examines women in the asylum and various escape bids. Thoroughly interesting and really recommended. It is currently only available for download – over Christmas it was one of the most downloaded titles from Amazon, which might mean Stevens gets a paper deal – he certainly deserves one! show less

I was absolutely fascinated by some of the stories in this book. Most of the time when you think of Lunatic Asylums in the Victorian Age you think of corrupt doctors and horrible living conditions, however this book gives the reader a glimpse into what it really was like. I enjoyed the stories in the beginning about certain patients. I liked reading about their crimes and how they got to Broadmoor and what eventually happened to them. I also enjoyed reading about the babies born in Broadmoor. I do have to say that there was way too much written about escape attempts and successful escapes. The part about escapes just seemed to drag on and on. Personally I would have only really wanted to hear about the successful escapes. Overall I show more thought this was a great glimpse inside of Broadmoor. I would recommend this to others. show less

As one could deduce from the page count, Mark Stevens' Broadmoor Revealed: Victorian Crime and the Lunatic Asylum is only a brief glimpse into one of England's Victorian-era asylums. Idyllic in setting and home to as many sane criminals as deranged artists, Broadmoor is an interesting subject for study, but by no means unique. Although a number of crimes are discussed in relation to the patients, what I found most interesting were the details of the escapes attempts, and how the Board responded - or failed to, as was frequently the case. Although I would have preferred greater depth, Broadmoor Revealed is a nice snack for those interested in Victorian crime or mental institutions.

Stevens is an archivist, and this very competent 'brief history' of Broadmoor is really an archivist's book. He has trawled out some genuinely interesting stories, and given them context in a very concise narrative history of the UK's premier institute for the criminally insane. It's the sort of book you'd select if you were going to go on a tour there, except there are no tours because it still operates as a high security 'hospital'. If you knew nothing about it you'd know more about it after reading this book, but you wouldn't really know much about the debate between disease and criminality that has been going on since Broadmoor was established in 1863. You'd also miss out on a potentially interesting discussions about how this show more category of patient has been dealt with in other countries, and about the problems of managing and staffing such institutions. For that sort of information you have to go to the texts referred to in Stevens excellent bibliography, and it's a measure of the success of his book that I am actually inspired to do so. Short(ish) and sweetly done, with some fine photographs, I'd recommend this as an introduction to the subject, and an attractive addition to any collection of books on penology and/or mental health institutions. show less

A really excellent book. The stories are well told and illuminate not only the history of the institution, but also the societal values and circumstances surrounding crime, mental illness, medicine, and to some degree philanthropy. Kindled my interest in the topic. I'll be looking for more, definitely!

An engaging, if not completely absorbing, read. Nice bibliography at the end. Stevens does a nice job evoking what the daily life of the typical Broadmoor patient was like during the Victorian era. It seems they were treated not only humanely, but well -- much different than the impressions I had for that time. I guess my impressions were derived from Moore's FROM HELL, or something. It seems Broadmoor was a benevolent place that often did its patients good. It couldn't cure everyone, of course, but the directors (particularly Orange) clearly cared about the patients.