This book is a significant contribution to the history of North Staffordshire. It is a weighty book of unusual length for a local history publication and the subject is dealt with thoroughly.
The history of an institution without the benefit of oral histories is likely to be on the boring side of dull as the writer is driven by sources such as minutes. This does not apply here because Alun’s great achievement is that this is an enjoyable read from start to finish. The text is fully illustrated throughout and those illustrations are interesting and enlightening.
One of the strengths of the book is that it links the hospital to the world outside: the social conditions; the national medical context – medical education, treatment of disease, the development of nursing; the unusual relationship between working class subscribers and the funds of the infirmary; relationships with workhouse hospitals; local politics. Alun shows a good knowledge of all these areas and links them all effectively with the Infirmary.
Another strength is the fact that as a doctor he knows what he is talking about. This is immensely helpful, again, in getting away from a dry recitation of meetings and minutes. Consequently, I learned many things that were useful and had answered questions I’ve been wondering about for ages. We are informed that there was an estimated 10% adult pop infected by syphilis during WW1; that the Infant Mortality Rate in 1911 was 203/1000 in the Borough of SOT; and that if a thermometer placed 4’ deep in the ground reached 56 degrees Fahrenheit, a severe epidemic of diarrhoea could be expected. Maw’s Patent Feeding Bottles for Infants (illustrated) didn’t help very much either, since they couldn’t easily be cleaned. Now just putting these few things together it becomes obvious that the subject is of massive importance if we want to understand the lives of people in North Staffordshire. They are serious matters which had life-changing importance. The history of medicine is a key subject for historians and this book hammers that point home. Then, of course, there are TB, scarlet fever, industrial diseases…
Alun Davies’ gentle humanitarianism is another attractive quality of the book. One of his strengths is the ability and desire to understand the participants’ points of view. Generally, people are doing their best in often trying circumstances. So you might have a passage something like this (I exaggerate a fraction for effect, you understand):
‘It is unfortunately true that for a period of 20 years, mortality from this operation was 100% and we must sympathise greatly with those who suffered in vain. However, the surgeons operated under difficult circumstances. They were only allowed half a candle a week for the operating theatre which was itself crumbling into dust as they operated. They were only allowed to send out scalpels to a blacksmith for sharpening rather than buying new. But the Governors of the hospital were themselves struggling as funding did not match expenditure and they often dipped into their pockets to keep it going. We should not blame the working classes of the Potteries, for they were suffering from depression of trade and were always noted for their generosity to those of their fellows in need.’
See what I mean? Uplifting. The vast majority of people are, most of the time, good.
There are a couple of criticisms to make, neither of which could Alun have controlled. I found the font hard to read and too small; and the lack of references is a fault which makes it impossible to follow up something of interest. On the other hand, to be fair (see - it’s catching!) Churnet Valley Books have been producing good local history for years: they are by far the most important publisher local history in the area has ever had. This is another good book. When added to Edward Myers’ History of Psychiatry in North Staffordshire, also published by Churnet Valley, we are now well served in the history of medicine.