In this week’s blog, Archivist Louise has been….
cataloguing!
Cataloguing – describing the holdings that we have and
‘numbering’ items – is vital to users of archives and those caring for them. It
sounds obvious, but without knowing what we have, users won’t learn about the
fascinating records that we hold, and we won’t have the knowledge of LHSA
material that is vital to our jobs.
Uncatalogued collections are particularly frustrating to
readers, particularly when there’s a tantalising set of records which is not
described in detail, as is the case for GD16:
documents, artwork and photographs amassed by the heads of the Royal Edinburgh
Hospital (the ‘Physician Superintendents’) from the 1850s to the 1980s.
Having a collection without a detailed description makes the
archivist’s job more difficult as well. We love people contacting us and
wanting to use our material, but the nature of what we hold means that we have
to abide by certain access restrictions. With uncatalogued records that date well into the
twentieth century (as many in GD16 do), we cannot give access to readers
without detailed checking to make sure we’re not breaking the Data Protection
Act (1998) or Scottish Government guidelines on protecting patient information.
And that takes up the valuable time of both archive users and archivists.
Uncatalogued collections are often housed to sit safely on store shelves until
further intervention can take place rather than being ready and robust enough
for regular handling in the reading room – and this is certainly the case for
the hundreds of letters from patients in GD16 collected by the Physician Superintendents,
which could risk getting damaged or disordered if consulted often.
From my first volunteer experience in archives (actually
here at LHSA!),
I’ve always loved cataloguing – you gain a privileged insight into what you’re
working with, and usually come out with a new ‘specialist subject’ because
you’ve delved into the life of a person or institution in so much detail. So I
was delighted when the expansion of our team meant that I had a chance to get
up close and personal with one of our collections – and GD16 seemed the most
obvious place to start.
Although the Royal Edinburgh Hospital (REH) institutional
collection (LHB7) is our most in-demand group of records, we
often recommend some of the material in GD16 to readers interested in the history of psychiatry. Whilst hospital records in LHB7 tell a clinician’s view of psychiatric care, many
items in GD16 were created by psychiatric patients themselves, such as
artwork:
Artwork by psychiatric patients John Willis Mason (top) and Andrew Kennedy (bottom) in GD16 |
We also have some images of patients in GD16 (sometimes from institutions outside Edinburgh), which are
not represented anywhere else in LHSA:
Photograph of brothers and sisters in Hallcross Asylum, Musselburgh (1860s) from GD16 |
GD16 begins with draft texts and lecture notes by the second
Physician Superintendent of the REH, David Skae (1814 - 1873), who headed the
hospital from 1846 to 1872:
David Skae (1814 - 1873), PH8/43 |
Skae was keen to turn the REH into a centre of excellence
for the study of psychiatry (or ‘alienism’, as it was then known), and began a
series of lectures around the study and treatment of mental illness. These were
eventually published in the Edinburgh Medical Journal (which we have in our REH Physicians' Library collection),
but the handwritten versions allow us to see the development of Skae’s thought
as his lectures developed and were adapted year after year:
Skae's handwritten lecture notes (GD16/1) |
The first page of Skae's introductory lecture text, showing revisions (GD16/1) |
Skae was primarily remembered for his ideas on the
classification of mental illness (in his definition, a ‘disease of the brain
affecting the mind’), which divided ailments into main categories, often
linking psychological factors to physical ones. This system was not widely
adopted outside the REH, but a space to record ‘Skae’s classification’ still
appeared in REH casebooks years after Skae had died.
Skae was remembered as an amiable and kind man, and the
touches that I’ve seen in his manuscript bring his personality closer than
reading his work in print in nineteenth century journals. On more than one
occasion, for example, I’ve seen Skae’s illustration of a small hand, prompting
him to show a visual aid:
Skae's 'pointing finger' symbol (GD16/1) |
These small interventions bring his text off the page,
making you imagine yourself as a nervous lecture presenter or keen observer.
Written prompts to himself (such as to ‘bring [a] table’ of statistics) also
bring him closer, in a way that I might set a computer reminder to put a
back-up memory stick in my bag before a setting off to give a public talk!
As I delve further into the lives of the patients and
physicians of the Royal Edinburgh Hospital in 2017, I hope to bring some more
personalities out from GD16’s boxes and into the world!
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