St Loman’s Hospital
The main block of St Loman’s is a freestanding 41 bay, 3 storeyed hospital built on twenty-five acres of land purchased in 1848 for which eventually opened as the Mullingar District Lunatic Asylum in August 1855. It was extended 40 years later. The hospital is a well-detailed Victorian institutional complex, in the Gothic style with extensive Tudor Gothic detailing. The structure was built to designs by John Skipton Mulvany, possibly the most celebrated architect operating in Ireland at the time. It cost £35,430 to build, equivalent to €3.2 million in today and was built to accommodate 300 patients. The first patients were transferred from the Richmond Surgical Hospital in Dublin, and all of them were female. In the grounds of the hospital, there are various buildings including a chapel which was constructed 1886, a nurses' home and an infirmary which were built 1940.
While looking further into the history of the asylum it was apparent that there were plenty of dramatic events that took place over its lifetime. A severe lack of care for the patients was a common occurrence during the time the hospital was open. There are multiple accounts of mistreatment in the early to mid-20th century. The most notable account was of Hanna Greally who was admitted in 1943 by her mother after witnessing the London Blitz. Greally published a book in 1971 called Bird’s Nest Soup which is said to provide a grim picture of life inside one of these institutions in the 40s-50s. On top of the poor care at Loman’s, a reported 1304 bodies are buried in the grounds, with the last body being buried in 1970. Each grave is unmarked, and a cross is stored somewhere in an outbuilding on site with a number attached. Aside to the dark history behind this institute, Loman’s was subject to an ISIS chemical attack hoax where the nurse staff were delivered an envelope containing a white powder and a note with the message “ISIS is going to get you”. This sparked the Gardaí and army to respond and lockdown the hospital and put a cordon in place until the Army Bomb Disposal unit had examined the powder. The closure for this hospital should have been prompt after the Inspector of Mental Health Services produced a report in 2007 with findings of poor conditions such as peeling paint, damp, poor sanitary facilities and many more. The report ended with the statement: “every effort must be made to close the hospital immediately”. The main building shut years later in 2013. However there are 2 newer active wards within the grounds and sections that are still live connecting to the main derelict block.
Midway through our trip to Ireland with @UrbandonedTeam, @DustySensorPhotography and @huyt.urb, we found ourselves with a spare hour just outside Mullingar as Alistair was in desperate need to charge camera batteries and portable chargers for the days to come. Our original plan missed checking St Loman’s as it was a lead, and we were pretty set on aiming for places that had high chances of success or we had intel that they were open. However, this free hour allowed us to take a look at the enormous building. The external grandeur of St Loman’s is enough to entice any explorer up to the windows for a peek of what lies within. The only issue was doing so unsuspectingly. Part of the site is currently used as a walk-in COVID test centre, so the front was not an option. The rear of the site houses the laundrettes for the active areas but was the only choice if we were to learn the state of the interior. We sheepishly wandered around the back of the main block, climbing up drainpipes to see inside the windows in hopes nobody saw us and kicked us off. As I previously mentioned, we were already hopeful considering the immense exterior and the more windows we peered through, the more excited we got. By this time, a worker had given us the freedom we needed to try and access the site which was a huge help when it came to the strenuous access that luckily, I didn’t have to do. An hour had now passed, and we had to return to pick up the equipment from a nearby Tesco’s which was rather inconvenient as Alistair had just made his way inside with some difficulty. A few of us raced back to collect our belongings while a temporary and easier access point was made. On the drive to and from the supermarket, messages of excitement and awe were coming through to all of our phones showing and describing what we had accidently stumbled across. It was safe to say that the derps we had planned originally could wait till the next day.
Externals. The building was too big to fit in frame and the trees sadly blocked the overall view of the main block.
Inside, the building was navigated by 3 corridors across 3 floors each spanning different lengths of the structure. Each floor had a different colour scheme and array of items, furniture, medical equipment, etc… remaining. The first floor spanned the entire length of the block and was more complex in its floor plan compared to the remaining floors. We began at one end and worked our way across and upwards. This common room with a snooker table was the first thing that intrigued us when we were peeking through the windows so made sense to start here.
Every inch of the corridors that weren’t patient rooms were filled with an assortment of items and this continued throughout.
There was little left at this end of the site, so we started to wander the seemingly endless hallways of the hospital. Instantly we were greeted with this gorgeous corridor.
As the hallways started to bend toward the protruding sections of the building, we came across the main entrance.
The further we ventured to the east side of the building, the more wary we became that we were closer to live and accessible sections of the hospital than we first imagined we would be. The corridors over here were full with disposed of PPE equipment and modern waiting room chairs. The likelihood of someone walking into this area was slim, but it made us a little more alert when exploring the ground floor.
Modern beds were also being stored in here and due to the nature of the other items left here, we assumed they were COVID beds that were for some reason, also out of use. Little did we know that the mere number of beds left here was nothing compared to what we would find moments later.
We followed this passageway away from the main hospital walkways and into the kitchen area in hopes of finding the main hall. More beds could be found in the kitchen still. Cracking a door open to the rear of the kitchen presented us with noises of active machinery, probably washing machines or dryers, along with sounds of distance chatter. We had found ourselves surrounded by the active areas so remained cautious while we shot in here.
The COVID beds crammed into small kitchen spaces.
A wide opening teased at the main hall we had been looking for and as we entered the room, we were shocked at the sheer number of beds they were storing. It was a shame as it would have been nice to capture the hall without a cluttered floor, but aye well. Fast forward a couple of hours and we returned to finish shooting this room and a lovely worker walked past the hall as we were in there and started chatting with us about what we were up to. She confirmed that the beds were for COVID patients but won’t ever be used again. Unfortunately for us her colleague arrived and wasn’t happy with our presence and informed security. Luckily, we had been roaming the building for about 5/6 hours, so we left before an angry security guard could finish his call to the Guards in the car park.
Back to the current timeframe and the group headed up to the first floor and out of harms way. At face value, this floor was less interesting until we made the most exciting discovery of the explore. Plenty of hospital beds that originally resided here were dotted about and yet again the corridors didn’t disappoint.
To be continued…
The main block of St Loman’s is a freestanding 41 bay, 3 storeyed hospital built on twenty-five acres of land purchased in 1848 for which eventually opened as the Mullingar District Lunatic Asylum in August 1855. It was extended 40 years later. The hospital is a well-detailed Victorian institutional complex, in the Gothic style with extensive Tudor Gothic detailing. The structure was built to designs by John Skipton Mulvany, possibly the most celebrated architect operating in Ireland at the time. It cost £35,430 to build, equivalent to €3.2 million in today and was built to accommodate 300 patients. The first patients were transferred from the Richmond Surgical Hospital in Dublin, and all of them were female. In the grounds of the hospital, there are various buildings including a chapel which was constructed 1886, a nurses' home and an infirmary which were built 1940.
While looking further into the history of the asylum it was apparent that there were plenty of dramatic events that took place over its lifetime. A severe lack of care for the patients was a common occurrence during the time the hospital was open. There are multiple accounts of mistreatment in the early to mid-20th century. The most notable account was of Hanna Greally who was admitted in 1943 by her mother after witnessing the London Blitz. Greally published a book in 1971 called Bird’s Nest Soup which is said to provide a grim picture of life inside one of these institutions in the 40s-50s. On top of the poor care at Loman’s, a reported 1304 bodies are buried in the grounds, with the last body being buried in 1970. Each grave is unmarked, and a cross is stored somewhere in an outbuilding on site with a number attached. Aside to the dark history behind this institute, Loman’s was subject to an ISIS chemical attack hoax where the nurse staff were delivered an envelope containing a white powder and a note with the message “ISIS is going to get you”. This sparked the Gardaí and army to respond and lockdown the hospital and put a cordon in place until the Army Bomb Disposal unit had examined the powder. The closure for this hospital should have been prompt after the Inspector of Mental Health Services produced a report in 2007 with findings of poor conditions such as peeling paint, damp, poor sanitary facilities and many more. The report ended with the statement: “every effort must be made to close the hospital immediately”. The main building shut years later in 2013. However there are 2 newer active wards within the grounds and sections that are still live connecting to the main derelict block.
Midway through our trip to Ireland with @UrbandonedTeam, @DustySensorPhotography and @huyt.urb, we found ourselves with a spare hour just outside Mullingar as Alistair was in desperate need to charge camera batteries and portable chargers for the days to come. Our original plan missed checking St Loman’s as it was a lead, and we were pretty set on aiming for places that had high chances of success or we had intel that they were open. However, this free hour allowed us to take a look at the enormous building. The external grandeur of St Loman’s is enough to entice any explorer up to the windows for a peek of what lies within. The only issue was doing so unsuspectingly. Part of the site is currently used as a walk-in COVID test centre, so the front was not an option. The rear of the site houses the laundrettes for the active areas but was the only choice if we were to learn the state of the interior. We sheepishly wandered around the back of the main block, climbing up drainpipes to see inside the windows in hopes nobody saw us and kicked us off. As I previously mentioned, we were already hopeful considering the immense exterior and the more windows we peered through, the more excited we got. By this time, a worker had given us the freedom we needed to try and access the site which was a huge help when it came to the strenuous access that luckily, I didn’t have to do. An hour had now passed, and we had to return to pick up the equipment from a nearby Tesco’s which was rather inconvenient as Alistair had just made his way inside with some difficulty. A few of us raced back to collect our belongings while a temporary and easier access point was made. On the drive to and from the supermarket, messages of excitement and awe were coming through to all of our phones showing and describing what we had accidently stumbled across. It was safe to say that the derps we had planned originally could wait till the next day.
Externals. The building was too big to fit in frame and the trees sadly blocked the overall view of the main block.
Inside, the building was navigated by 3 corridors across 3 floors each spanning different lengths of the structure. Each floor had a different colour scheme and array of items, furniture, medical equipment, etc… remaining. The first floor spanned the entire length of the block and was more complex in its floor plan compared to the remaining floors. We began at one end and worked our way across and upwards. This common room with a snooker table was the first thing that intrigued us when we were peeking through the windows so made sense to start here.
Every inch of the corridors that weren’t patient rooms were filled with an assortment of items and this continued throughout.
There was little left at this end of the site, so we started to wander the seemingly endless hallways of the hospital. Instantly we were greeted with this gorgeous corridor.
As the hallways started to bend toward the protruding sections of the building, we came across the main entrance.
The further we ventured to the east side of the building, the more wary we became that we were closer to live and accessible sections of the hospital than we first imagined we would be. The corridors over here were full with disposed of PPE equipment and modern waiting room chairs. The likelihood of someone walking into this area was slim, but it made us a little more alert when exploring the ground floor.
Modern beds were also being stored in here and due to the nature of the other items left here, we assumed they were COVID beds that were for some reason, also out of use. Little did we know that the mere number of beds left here was nothing compared to what we would find moments later.
We followed this passageway away from the main hospital walkways and into the kitchen area in hopes of finding the main hall. More beds could be found in the kitchen still. Cracking a door open to the rear of the kitchen presented us with noises of active machinery, probably washing machines or dryers, along with sounds of distance chatter. We had found ourselves surrounded by the active areas so remained cautious while we shot in here.
The COVID beds crammed into small kitchen spaces.
A wide opening teased at the main hall we had been looking for and as we entered the room, we were shocked at the sheer number of beds they were storing. It was a shame as it would have been nice to capture the hall without a cluttered floor, but aye well. Fast forward a couple of hours and we returned to finish shooting this room and a lovely worker walked past the hall as we were in there and started chatting with us about what we were up to. She confirmed that the beds were for COVID patients but won’t ever be used again. Unfortunately for us her colleague arrived and wasn’t happy with our presence and informed security. Luckily, we had been roaming the building for about 5/6 hours, so we left before an angry security guard could finish his call to the Guards in the car park.
Back to the current timeframe and the group headed up to the first floor and out of harms way. At face value, this floor was less interesting until we made the most exciting discovery of the explore. Plenty of hospital beds that originally resided here were dotted about and yet again the corridors didn’t disappoint.
To be continued…
