As I joined, the major grant the Friends made for the Middlesex was £200,000 to the new adolescent unit, the first in the country.
Listen 00:26:08
Story: Gillian Vaughan Hudson - Central London
Stories of volunteers supporting the health service since 1949
The League of Friends of Middlesex Hospital, like the hospital itself, have now disappeared. But the work of the countless volunteers, spanning almost a century, should not be forgotten. The Friends provided services to hospitals that you don’t see around anymore: flower sales were hosted in the entrance, and wards and nurses’ quarters were filled with greenery – library trolleys were brought to the ward so that patients had books to read. Like the other Friends groups, the Middlesex League also did their fair share of fundraising. Even in its final years in 2003-2004, thousands of pounds were raised for ventilators, cardiology refurbishments, and pulse oximeters. The League was always particularly proud of the gardening work they did for the hospital, providing a nurturing space for patients and staff alike. In a final tribute to this long history the Friends teamed up with the Mill Lane Gardening Project, which provides training opportunities to people with disabilities, to develop the hospital garden. Though it is now part of UCLH, this fond farewell project still stands, and still matters, along with the countless small acts of kindness the friends brought over the years.
The Middlesex Infirmary was opened in 1745, providing its services to ‘the Sick and Lame of Soho’. At the time, the local population was poverty stricken, and smallpox was rife, scarring four out of five residents. The hospital services then were desperately needed. It was initially founded by 20 benefactors, and started with a humble 15 beds across two houses at 8-10 Windmill Street (a site that had been used to house lepers up until the Tudor era).
It quickly became apparent, however, that the site was not fit for purpose. One matron complained that she was having to put two patients in a single bed: bad at the best of times, worse in the middle of a smallpox epidemic. In 1757, the hospital was moved to Mortimer Street, with purpose-built facilities and a total of 98 beds.
After the move, the hospital was quickly struck by financial difficulty. The newly constructed wings could not be occupied because of staff shortages, and the number of maternity beds plunged from 34 to two. The hospital had previously been sustained by ‘subscribers’. These patients paid three guineas a year or 21 guineas for life membership to the hospital’s services. But by 1780, the finances were dire, and appeals had to be made to public bodies such as the Music Fund. This used income from musical performances at Westminster Abbey, patronised by King George III, to distribute to charitable organisations. The hospital reached out with this letter.
The hospital came under strain once more as the Napoleonic Wars broke out in 1773, with nurses threatening to strike when their rations were cut to save on costs. There was some income brought in however by French refugees. The hospital had been asked to open a ward for injured clergyman who were fleeing the Revolution in France. This was agreed, and two wards were devoted to such patients, each of whom was charged eight shillings a week for the bed. This arrangement continued for the next 20 years, until the Battle of Waterloo in 1815.
In 1854, the hospital had a new epidemic to tackle: cholera. The hospital became completely overwhelmed by swathes of patients. It was at this point that Florence Nightingale stepped in, leaving her Harley Street position to help at Middlesex during the height of the outbreak. She was particularly adamant that sanitary conditions should be improved, implementing comparatively modern hygiene practices. Immediately after her stint at Middlesex, she was called away to a Crimean hospital, where the sanitary measures she put in place reduced deaths by two thirds.
When WWI commenced, the hospital had to contend not only with increased civilian casualties and staff shortages, but also the responsibility of training new medics. As a teaching hospital, the Middlesex had to work even harder to ensure that rigorous training continued through the war; it was imperative that there were newly qualified doctors at the ready to send to the front line. As with most hospitals, the services also had to adapt quickly, and 60 beds were reserved for injured soldiers.
In 1934, the hospital suffered an explosion. While a porter was changing an oxygen tank, the leaking gas caused a fire, and the operating theatre burst into flames. One of the nurses, in an incredible act of heroism, ran into the room to turn off the leaking tank. This stopped the fire causing further damage, and for her bravery she was awarded the Medal of the Civil Division of the Order of the British Empire.
A year later in 1935, the new East Wing was opened by the Duke of York. After the fire, the hospital spent £1,125,000 on rebuilding. Some of the new facilities included X-ray, fracture, and radiotherapy departments, a new operating theatre, and a block for private patients.
During WW2, the hospital again had to adapt. The top three floors were evacuated, and were at times targeted by bombs. Winston Churchill was later treated at the Middlesex for a broken hip in 1962. He is pictured below, being carried out of hospital in a chair. After the war in 1948, the Middlesex joined the NHS, and became a leading teaching hospital in the local group.
In 1987, the Broderip and Charles Bell Wards were built. These were the first wards in the UK devoted to patients with complications of HIV and AIDS, and were formally opened by Princess Diana. But as the twentieth century drew to a close, so too did the Middlesex Hospital, with the facilities eventually merging with UCH in 2006. The Middlesex Tower at UCLH is named after the hospital, and still stands as a commemoration of its history.
Listen 00:26:08
Story: Gillian Vaughan Hudson - Central London
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Story: Fiona Aird - London, Yeovil