Wellington Military Hospital
A former district hospital that began life as a Victorian workhouse and was converted to a treatment centre for the wounded between 1916 and 1919, when nearly 3000 servicemen passed through its doors.
The Big Takeover
The Wellington Union Workhouse on Holyhead Road, which opened in 1876, was first inspected by the War Office as a potential reception centre for wounded soldiers in late 1915. By April of the following year, plans had advanced to the extent that the Wellington Journal was able to report that ‘practically all’ of the workhouse (which included an infirmary for the elderly and infirm, and a separate children’s home) would be taken over ‘for the purpose of a hospital for wounded soldiers and accommodation will be provided for some 150 of them’. Whether the close proximity of The Ercall Hill was taken into consideration by military minds we shall never know but the Journal was in little doubt of its restorative powers, confidently stating ‘they will recuperate in beautiful surroundings and in an extremely healthy situation’. For the existing residents, however, views of the Wrekin Hills would quickly become a thing of the past: they were removed en masse to the workhouse in Wolverhampton, while a new, permanent children’s home was established at Brooklyn House on Watling Street, near the Buck’s Head field.
In June 1916, the Local Government Board sanctioned expenditure for alterations to the facility so it could better receive wounded and disabled soldiers. Although incomplete, those modifications enabled an initial intake of 50 soldiers to be sent to the new hospital at the end of September and by the middle of 1917 fresh plans that would make it, according to the Journal at least, ‘one of the largest in the Midlands’ were afoot. That rapid pace of events appears to have come at something of a cost to staff morale. In September 1917, ‘Lover of Justice’ took to the letters page of the paper to condemn the summary dismissal of nurses at the facility, writing ‘the staff at this hospital has had many changes during the last few months, which makes it incredible that enquires are not instituted’. Referring to the most recent sacking, for which apparently no official reason had been given, the correspondent opined ‘anyone witnessing the “send off” that one of the dismissed staff was accorded by her patients on Monday would realise that they at least appreciated the work of those who contributed to their welfare and happiness’.
Internal Dilapidations
Despite the end of hostilities in November 1918, the hospital continued to treat the wounded for many months after. By the spring of 1919, however, the facility was in the process of being wound down and the last 35 patients were discharged in April. A total of 2805 soldiers had passed through its doors by that point, which — judging by the condition the building was returned to the Wellington Board of Poor Law Guardians — must have been close to falling off their hinges! As a prelude to the inmates of the workhouse infirmary being returned from Wolverhampton, the Guardians undertook an extensive survey of dilapidations to the property, which necessitated a repair bill of nearly £1300 (around £65,000 today). That being said, it appears they were in no particular hurry to repatriate the inmates who it was said had adapted well to their temporary surroundings. Consequently, it was felt the pace of their return did not need to be urgent and they did not arrive back until August. At the end of 1919, some 60 inmates were resident in Wellington once again, although the infirmary was operating at half its capacity. In a year of huge financial pressure, this may explain why the Guardians then took the decision to re-house 55 residents from the newly-closed facility at Forden in Mid-Wales (for which the Atcham Union paid Wellington 15 shillings per head).
By mid-1919, negotiations were also underway to purchase some of the equipment left behind by the military, which was apparently commanding high prices in France and Belgium — where medical supplies were still badly needed. It was eventually valued at £1810 by the War Office valuer and included several of the hospital’s 213 beds, which were required at the children’s home (which the Guardians had purchased outright in April). A number of Red Cross gifts also remained on site but the Guardians were in no mood to donate them to the nearby cottage hospital, which was experiencing something of a funding crisis in the absence of military support (for it, too, had served as an auxiliary hospital during the conflict). ‘Were they not given for hospital purposes only, not for general institutional purposes’ asked one of the Guardians? A similarly frugal attitude extended to staff pay at the workhouse, where the continuation of war bonuses created a real bone of contention for some of the members. To discover more about the Board of Guardians often heated attempts to deal with the vagaries of the post-war economy head over to Edgbaston House, the location of its boardroom in 1919