If you don’t like anything to do with dead people, this article probably isn’t for you. Over the years hundreds of bodies would have undergone autopsies in this building before making their way to the undertaker. Since 2018 the entire hospital has been a building site, as the grounds are slowly converted into housing, making this more of a historical report than anything else, as the memory of Maiden law has now been replaced by brochure-worthy newbuild homes. None of what you see here exists anymore. Sorry, urbex researchers.
The story of the hospital itself started back in early 1902. Towards the end of the workhouse era, this district of County Durham was part of Lanchester Poor Law Union. Smallpox and various other diseases were ripe across the country and spread like wildfire amongst poorer communities, threatening local economies with very few facilities for containment let alone treatment. In 1891 the only hospital provision for the poor was in the workhouses, but obviously putting someone with an infectious disease in a workhouse could lead to an epidemic. So workhouses had remote out-stations where they put their infectious patients. The collective out-stations for Lanchester Workhouses lead to Lanchester’s Infection Hospital board being formed.
Being worried about the possibility of an outbreak of Smallpox in the area, the board decided to fund a special hospital in some central position exclusively for the isolation of the disease. By 1903, a permanent Smallpox Hospital, known as Howden Bank or Maiden Law Smallpox Hospital had been erected at Mawsfield, Maiden Law. In this instance foresight was rewarded because in 1903 an outbreak of twenty-two cases of Smallpox occurred and these were removed directly to the new Hospital.
Smallpox eventually faded as a threat, but in the interwar years high levels of unemployment put added pressure on an outdated system, and the poor law unions were soon abolished in the late 20’s by the Conservatives who transferred the administration of poor relief to local governments. Whilst the NHS hadn’t yet come into place, the need for modern healthcare was becoming more and more apparent. Maiden law hospital was eventually commissioned in the late 1930’s, to be built across the road from the original sanatorium which was only occasionally in use by this time.
The lobby. An office and entrance facilities would have been here as it was the only part of the morgue without any clinical purpose. Building of the hospital at Maiden Law commenced in 1939, although due to the outbreak of WW2 it took until 1945 to be completed. It's official title upon opening was an Infection Diseases Hospital. The introduction of the NHS only a couple of years later allowed the services to be widely available to those in need, and its duties became more diverse. The original smallpox hospital on the opposite side of the road was then converted into a factory, but burnt down in the 1950's leaving no trace behind with very few surviving records.
The main hospital entrance. Fenced off and closed for around two decades.
The morgue itself was a relatively unassuming little building. Much like the rest of the site it is industrious and to the point, owing to pressures at the time for building resources to be kept to a minimum without a great deal of showmanship. The modern gates were added in more recent years to close off the rear of the hospital where only ambulances and emergency service vehicles could reach, and bodies could be quietly removed from the premises after visiting the morgue itself.
The fridge was only big enough to store about four bodies. Possibly six at a push, which fits in with the relatively small size of the hospital. This was after all not a dedicated mortuary, and a morgue like this with just the one post-mortem room would only have had a couple of staff at any one time, with the building itself probably no bigger than your average corner shop. The decor reminded me a lot of the RAF bases I've visited from around the same era. Which makes sense having all been constructed in the 30's.
Access to this place was something of a community effort. (Usually talking about such details for all to read and pass around would be sort of an offence in the exploring community but the building is no longer with us.) A ladder presumably found on the grounds elsewhere was kept in the overgrown area behind the buildings, safely stored by one explorer ready for the next one trusted to visit the place. A great agreement as long as somebody doesn't trust the wrong type of explorer to visit next. Using the ladder to get onto the roof, the skylight opened and you could simply drop down onto the 'body fridges' in style. Luckily no vandals had been inside before me and all the decay was completely natural.
The dry-wipe post mortem room in all of it's daylit glory. The Victorian build-to-last ethic was still very much a continued legacy in the interwar era and it's easy to see why there was never any real reason to upgrade this room. Much like all morgues of the same era, the room would be tiled for regular cleaning and the slab would sit below a large skylight with a utensil table next to a waste-high sink with a flush function for all those bodily bits that weren't required. Nice.
Let's hope that bar of soap was in a better state the last time this place was properly used.
The central part of any old fashioned morgue and usually the first artefact to disappear: the porcelain slab.
The only conceivable reason that this slab had lasted inside the building for so long is the same reason that the morgue is free of vandalism - super tight security. The windows and doors of this building were reinforced and covered from day one. Nobody could get in and sure as hell nothing could be taken out. Especially a 30 stone porcelain slab. These things won't budge easily. Many from around the country have been removed and taken to museums and actually worth quite a few bob.
Porcelain was the victorian material of choice for sanitary use and for good reason. It was british made and therefore the quality was always assured, it was tough and sturdy and as you can clearly see, doesn't deteriorate. Sitting in a cold damp building for two decades it still shines like it would've done 70 years ago. The construction of these things is actually pretty damn impressive and must've taken some real expertise. The slab would sit on a revolving, adjustable frame with a cast iron wheel allowing for the slab to be raised and lowered. Compared to many other slabs from similar hospitals this was top of the range. Sort of like a luxury barbers chair but for dead people.
Autopsy examination. Opened corpse of a 20 year old woman being studied during an autopsy examination. An array of surgical tools is seen on the tray in lower frame. An autopsy is performed either to find the cause of death, especially if it was sudden or suspicious, or to further the knowledge of a fatal disease. This woman died due to a cardiac virus.