Category Archives: Canton Asylum for Insane Indians

Canton Asylum for Insane Indians in South Dakota was also known as Hiawatha. It opened in December 1902 and closed in 1934 after charges of neglect and abuse were validated. Dr. Harry Reid Hummer and Oscar Sherman Gifford were its only two superintendents. Its only patients were Native Americans, typically called Indians. It was the only federal insane asylum created solely for an ethnic group and served only Indians.

Lucid Lunatics

 

Life In An Insane Asylum Was Dangerous

Life In An Insane Asylum Was Dangerous

One of the most heartbreaking–and frightening–aspects of treatment in an insane asylum was that so many patients probably were not insane. Native American patients at the Canton Asylum for Insane Indians were rarely evaluated by any competent medical person before they were committed. Powerless and misunderstood, they were often railroaded into the asylum for convenience or spite.

Many white patients undoubtedly suffered the same fate. Women were also politically and financially powerless, and many inconvenient women may have been committed to asylums at the pleasure of their spouses, fathers, or other legal guardians. Diaries and letters that women wrote spoke passionately about how terrible asylums were, and how the rigid routines, loss of freedom, and frightening environment, were enough to make any sane person lose her mind. A woman who had little experience of the world, or who perhaps had never left her home without an escort, would be terrified in an asylum. One can only imagine the stress levels these wronged patients endured.

Patient at Surrey County Asylum, circa 1855, courtesy the Royal Photographic Society Collection, National Media Museum

Patient at Surrey County Asylum, circa 1855, courtesy the Royal Photographic Society Collection, National Media Museum

Diagnoses were also at fault. Medical conditions like epilepsy were considered a part of insanity, and patients who could be effectively treated today, would have spent their lives in insane asylums. Other reasons for commitment were just as tragic. Commitment papers for patients admitted to the Western North Carolina Insane Asylum in Morganton, North Carolina during the two years ending November 30, 1908 included reasons like:

— cigarette smoking

— desire to marry

— cocaine habit

— hard work and nose bleed

Western North Carolina Insane Asylum

Western North Carolina Insane Asylum

Though these diagnoses cannot tell the whole story, modern researchers have to wonder how much mental illness actually accompanied the patients’ conditions.

Inspection Details

In A Rake's Progress, Tom Rakewell Loses His Fortune to Drink, Gambling, and Women, and Ends Up in an Insane Asylum

In A Rake’s Progress, Tom Rakewell Loses His Fortune to Drink, Gambling, and Women, and Ends Up in an Insane Asylum

When insane asylums were inspected, nearly anything going on was fair game for examination. During St. Elizabeths’ 1906 investigation, Dr. Harry Hummer, who later became superintendent at the Canton Asylum for Insane Indians gave testimony concerning gambling at the asylum.

Hummer was asked if he had heard of any case where “cards were played for money by the attendants and patients.” Hummer replied that he had heard of cases, though he did not believe attendants had been present. A police officer had informed Hummer that there was a game going on in the asylum’s smoke room under the bakery; Hummer called in the two patients and threatened to revoke their parole privileges (free time without attendants) if they did not stop. They said they would, but apparently shifted their game to an outdoor area. Hummer again threatened to revoke their parole privileges, but they swore they would not gamble again and he let them continue with their relative freedom.

Hummer was then asked if he had ever played cards at St. Elizabeths. Hummer said he had, generally about 3:00 p.m. with two of the night watchmen and perhaps a patient or two. They played a game called pedro. When asked if he ever played seven-up, Hummer replied, “I don’t believe so, sir–not as severe a game as that.”

Pedro (pronounced peedro) actually seems to be the more complicated game; it is difficult to understand why Dr. Hummer pronounced seven-up a “severe” game. The rules to both games can be found on the internet.

Men Playing All Fours, Also Known as Seven Up, Civil War Era

Men Playing All Fours, Also Known as Seven Up, Civil War Era

Men Playing Seven Up at a Boarding House

Men Playing Seven Up at a Boarding House

Inspection Results

State Lunatic Asylum in Lincoln, Nebraska

State Lunatic Asylum in Lincoln, Nebraska

The two federal institutions for the insane (St. Elizabeths and the Canton Asylum for Insane Indians) were investigated several times. In 1926, the comptroller general of the United States listed his findings concerning the investigation into St. Elizabeths. They included the following:

— The laws under which persons …are committed to the hospital are not adequate or sufficiently definite.

— There are too many patients in some of the wards, resulting in a crowded and unhealthy condition.

— Dining rooms, sitting rooms, toilets, baths, and other facilities of some of the wards are quite inadequate and most unsatisfactory.

— The fire hazard in certain wards is too great, and there does not appear to be sufficient fire fighting equipment.

— Several findings concerned the proper accounting of patients’ monies and valuables, including the need for a place to safeguard them.

Some of these 1926 findings were similar to those at Canton Asylum (overcrowding, inadequate facilities, and fire hazards). However, St. Elizabeths had 4,340 patients in June 1926, well over 50 times the number of patients at the Canton Asylum. The facility was not perfect, but by no means did it have 50 times the problems of its sister asylum. Undoubtedly St. Elizabeths’ leadership had something to do with its better performance.

Asylums were frequently inspected and investigated, and most had similar problems. Appropriations were generally set for a certain time period and included set numbers of personnel positions. Because funding wasn’t based on actual patient populations or patient to staff ratios, overcrowding could set off a cascade of problems. Facilities became inadequate and attendants became overburdened. In turn, stressed attendants probably lost patience or reacted less professionally with difficult patients. A new (and possibly sufficient) cycle of funding may have given an institution a chance to catch its figurative breath, but a new cycle of overcrowding was almost certain to begin shortly thereafter. As the public became more comfortable using insane asylums, their demands on these institutions created perpetual overcrowding. Insane asylums were often victims of their own success.

Overcrowding at Byberry (Philadelphia State Hospital) from a 1946 Department of Welfare Report

Overcrowding at Byberry (Philadelphia State Hospital) from a 1946 Department of Welfare Report

Patients Had to Sleep in Chairs at the Camarillo Mental Hospital

Patients Had to Sleep in Chairs at the Camarillo Mental Hospital, courtesy Camarillo State Hospital Historical Society

 

 

Asylum Comparisons

St. Elizabeths Hospital for the Insane of the Army, Navy, and District of Columbia

St. Elizabeths Hospital for the Insane of the Army, Navy, and District of Columbia

St. Elizabeths and the Canton Asylum for Insane Indians were investigated a number of times during the early twentieth century. Both were federal insane asylums, but they were also quite different. St. Elizabeths was very much a medical facility, while the Canton Asylum was run along Indian boarding school lines. In 1927:

— St. Elizabeths had an amusement hall (Hitchcock Hall) for patients; Canton Asylum did not.

— St. Elizabeths had specialized buildings like cottages for tubercular patients and quarantine buildings; Canton Asylum did not.

St. Elizabeths had a 10,000 volume library and subscribed to 35 periodicals; in 1925 the Congressional Library began to send its surplus magazines to the asylum (about 1,000 a month); Canton Asylum received subscriptions to about half a dozen magazines.

St. Elizabeths had a furlough program which allowed patients to go home on trial visits; a social worker followed up on patients during these short visits; Canton Asylum actively discouraged furloughs for any reason. St. Elizabeths created an out-patient department for veterans who had been discharged from the military shortly after commitment. This department helped some patients find employment and tried to help them find a home so that they would not be overwhelmed when they were released. Canton Asylum did not help its patients this way.

A typical menu for a Tuesday midday meal at St. Elizabeths showed: bean soup, beef pot roast, gravy, browned potatoes, cucumbers, bread, oleo, and tapioca cream pudding. A menu for Canton Asylum (from the 1928 Meriam Report) showed: a stew of meat and carrots, with more fat and bones than anything else, thin apple sauce, bread, and coffee.

St. Elizabeths was significantly larger than the Canton Asylum, which gave it justification for some of its specialized facilities. However, its placement in Washington, DC and its patient population (veterans and citizens of the District of Columbia) also mattered. The American Red Cross, veterans’ groups, and the Knights of Columbus, as well as other civic organizations had easy access for volunteer work and aid of various kinds; the Canton Asylum had to depend on the kindness of small-town organizations like volunteer ministers and the Canton Band to help its patients.

However, both organizations had areas of weakness that investigations brought to light.

Dining Room at McLean Asylum for the Insane

Dining Room at McLean Asylum for the Insane

Bear Cubs at St. Elizabeths' Zoological Gardens

Bear Cubs at St. Elizabeths’ Zoological Gardens

1906 Investigation

The Washington Herald, 1911

The Washington Herald, 1911

When the Medico-Legal Society leveled charges of abuse against St. Elizabeths’s staff in 1906 (see last post), the public was understandably outraged. However, when the Society would not assist in an investigation nor even let others review its supposed records of the abuse, it lost credibility.

The Washington Herald sent a reporter to St. Elizabeths to investigate one of the “horrors” the Medico-Legal Society had particularly mentioned, the needle bath. “Evidently the informant of the committee as to this particular instrument of torture, was one of those individuals who never take a bath unless it is forced,” wrote the Herald’s reporter. He then described the needle bath (a form of hydrotherapy) as a “scientific shower bath,” and said that a patient undergoing “this particular ‘torture’ seemed to enjoy it.”

Though it is likely that certain attendants were rougher than they needed to be, or disobeyed orders against restraining patients, a subsequent investigation showed that rampant abuse did not exist. A surviving letter from a patient to his sister asserted that “the reports you have seen in the papers in Boston are not so.”

The patient went on to give a practical example of the care he was receiving. “Well, take me for a sample, I weigh more at present than I ever did before, then this should be sufficient to show that we have plenty to eat, and it is good, too.”

My next two posts will conclude the investigation.

Even a Useful Therapy Could be Misused and Abused

Even a Useful Therapy Could be Misused and Abused

A Style of Needle Shower

A Style of Needle Shower

Local News

1904 Sioux Valley News

1904 Sioux Valley News

The Sioux Valley News, Canton’s weekly newspaper, delivered both national and local news. It kept its readers abreast of world affairs, and also reported the goings-on of Canton citizens in detail, going far beyond important events like births and deaths. On February 10, 1913, the paper reported:

— A blue card on the A. B. Carlson residence notifies the passing public that “Laddie” has the measles.

— I. O. Steensland and John Marston on last Monday shipped sixty head of extra fine cattle to Chicago.

— Rev. F. G. Wood pastor of the Baptist church held a religious service at the Indian Asylum on last Sunday afternoon, which was very much enjoyed and appreciated by the Asylum management and inmates as well.

— E. D. Warner has been entertaining LaGrippe [the flu] for a week. So attentive has he been to his guest that he has not been out of the house during his guest’s stay.

— The Misses Marguerite Brethorst, Susanna Avery, Tena Gedstad and Grace Lewison, of Lennox, were in Canton Monday, and took in “A Comedy of Errors” at the Kennedy opera house.

East Side of Main Street, Canton, SD circa 1912

East Side of Main Street, Canton, SD circa 1912

5th Street, looking east, Canton, S.D., 1907

5th Street, looking east, Canton, SD 1907

Canton in the News

East Side of Main Street, Canton, SD around 1912

East Side of Main Street, Canton, SD around 1912

Canton, SD was a bustling town at the turn of the twentieth century (see last post), and its newspaper, the Sioux Valley News reported its activities in depth. Very little negative reporting went on; instead, the paper discussed the daily activities of its residents, cheered on business enterprises, and pushed an agenda to present Canton as a wonderful place for both working and living. A prominent grocery story created “Chraft & Hansen’s Canton Coffee,” which the proprietors said was a line of coffee “as good as any in the land.” They took out an ad in the March 4, 1904 edition to invite townspeople to partake of complimentary servings of Canton No. 25 in its line.

The coffee was probably needed, since a month later that same year, the paper raged that “after eighteen years of existence without open saloons Canton has opened her door and invited the saloon to enter.” The columnist was not ready to assert “that all who voted for license, did so because they were evil minded,” but it was clear that the paper’s position was solidly opposed to the move.

Arbuckles' Was a Famous Brand of Coffee

Arbuckles’ Was a Famous Brand of Coffee

Saloon, early 1900s

Saloon, early 1900s

A Nice Place to Visit

Canton-Asylum-Main-Building-P6 600 dpiThe city of Canton, SD was proud of its asylum, and it was certainly a building that looked good. With electric lights, indoor plumbing, and coal heat, the building was probably a step up from what many residents enjoyed themselves. The town itself already had an impressive courthouse building, a railway depot, a college, hotels, a large Chautauqua auditorium for lectures and public programs, and an expansive fairgrounds.

The town was a popular tourist destination, and a relocated shipbuilder named M. M. Hanson built passenger boats that allowed pleasure-seekers to take excursions down the Sioux River. His first boat (The City of Canton) held 100 passengers, and his second (Sioux Queen) held 200. Hanson also owned 30 row boats he hired out.

Canton’s population of around 2,000 (in 1900) could not have supported all the activities and institutions it hosted, and the city relied on tourists to help bring in dollars. The Canton Asylum for Insane Indians was itself a tourist attraction, and visitors to the area were urged to stop and tour it while they were in town. Spoons, plates, postcards, and small cloth items were a few of the souvenirs tourists could pick up in town; they could also buy bead work and other craft items at the asylum from patients who earned money by creating and selling their handiwork.

It would have been an economic blow, indeed, for the town to lose the institution. This was especially true during the Depression (it closed in 1933), when many people depended heavily on the wages that the asylum generated.

Hiawatha Fence from Advertisement

Hiawatha Fence from Advertisement

Canton, S.D. Masonic Temple, 1912

Canton, S.D. Masonic Temple, 1912

A Cost Analysis

Lincoln County Courthouse, circa 1902, located in Canton

Lincoln County Courthouse, circa 1902, located in Canton

Interested parties (mainly in South Dakota) wanted an asylum established exclusively for insane Indians, and tried to make a case for it. They met with a complete lack of support from the superintendent (William W. Godding) of the only other federal institution for the insane, St. Elizabeths. Godding pointed out that the costs to maintain the few insane Indians at St. Elizabeths was less than $3,000 a year, while the proposed asylum in South Dakota would cost $150,000 and need an annual expenditure of at least $25,000 to run it. (See last post.)

However, the Indian Office supported the idea of an asylum, and began to gather figures to show how badly it was needed. St. Elizabeths reported that it had seven Indians in care in 1897 (two had been there close to ten years) for a total cost of $9,506.50 for their entire time as patients. The acting Commissioner of Indian Affairs had no figures as to how many insane Indians might actually need a new asylum’s services, but thought that “an asylum that would accommodate fifty patients would be ample.”

Government Hospital for the Insane of the Army, Navy, and District of Columbia, known commonly as St. Elizabeths

Government Hospital for the Insane of the Army, Navy, and District of Columbia, known commonly as St. Elizabeths

When the Commissioner, William Jones, later canvassed the various reservations to ascertain the number of insane Indians on them, most had none. Of the reservation agents who responded, only 58 Indians were found to be insane, with 7 of that number already in asylums. Agents mentioned other Indians as being “idiotic,” but tellingly, not needing help. One agent said that “a few” on his reservation were slightly insane but not requiring restraint in an asylum. (His estimate is not included in the preceding figure.) Of the 51 potential patients actually on reservations, the agents felt only 34 might need asylum care.

Even if all 58 patients had been taken to St. Elizabeths at a cost of $91/quarter ($364 annually), the total annual cost would have been only slightly over $21,000 a year. That was still under the figure Dr. Godding suggested would be needed to run an asylum in South Dakota each year. Clearly, anyone who did the math could see that even with the added transportation costs to St. Elizabeths, a new asylum really wasn’t worth the money for the few patients that might make use of it. Even paying extra at local state asylums (to offset transporting patients to Washington, DC where St. Elizabeths was located) would have been cheaper.

Yet, the asylum was built, staffed, and infrastructure put in place to support it. A later inspector called the Canton Asylum for Insane Indians a “magnificent political gesture” that had done little good for the recipients it had promised to help.

Canton Asylum Given Much Thought

Richard F. Pettigrew

Richard F. Pettigrew

Though the Canton Asylum for Insane Indians had many problems throughout its operation, the facility itself had been the subject of much consideration before its construction. When Senator Richard F. Pettigrew, Chairman of of the Committee on Indian Affairs, first proposed Senate Bill 2042 (for the purchase of land and construction thereon of an asylum for insane Indians) in 1897, he asked for “not less than one hundred acres of tillable land” and that the building should be constructed of stone or brick with a metal roof, and “shall be as nearly fire-proof as conditions will permit.”

At the time, a few Indians deemed insane had been admitted to the Government Hospital for the Insane (known as St. Elizabeths) at the rate of $91 per quarter. Payment was through the Commissioner of Indian Affairs. The hospital’s superintendent, William W. Godding, noted that he was presently treating five Indians, and that “this number has never been exceeded at any previous date.”

Center Building, St. Elizabeths, 1900

Center Building, St. Elizabeths, 1900

Godding felt that there would be only a small number of Indians who might need psychiatric care, and that to spend $150,000 to purchase land and erect an asylum (Pettigrew’s proposed figure) was unnecessary. He pointed out that even after the asylum’s construction, the government would need to add “an annual expenditure of not less than $25,000 for the equipment and maintenance of the asylum.” Currently the Government Hospital cared for insane Indians at an annual cost of $2,267.

Dr. William W. Godding, courtesy Library of Congress

Dr. William W. Godding, courtesy Library of Congress

Like many other whites of the era, Godding believed that insanity was actually rare among Indians. He continued, “the additional expenditure [that Pettigrew proposed] might be advisable if there was a prospect . . . the number of insane Indians would be very much increased.” But, Godding stated, “the records of the race do not justify any such expectation, rather the opposite.”

Obviously, Godding’s commonsense objections were ignored.