The Long, Last Good-bye
As far back as the late 1950s, it was known that the hospital would one day close. The tide was turning for care of the mentally ill – falling admission rates; advances in medicine and research and the creation of the Mental Health Act 1959. The psychiatric profession had begun to stagnate and so new ideas were desperately taken from outside of the confinement of the institutions they worked for. (Think the anti-psychiatry movement, R D Laing, the 1961 speech given by Enoch Powell.) Despite this, during the next 3 decades the hospital would continue to make refurbishments, new additions as well as ward closures as patient and staff numbers declined. It wasn't until 1986 with the removal of long-term care beds that the hospital staff began to feel the effects of a rapid move towards closure as care was geared more towards rehabilitation. (Nightingale ward had been converted into a social centre for the patients and Wren was used as a mixed, rehabilitation ward to prepare the mentally ill for the outside world.)
Then in mid-1991 the staff at Cane Hill were told of their imminent redundancy due to take place in October of that year and hurriedly, the remaining 70 patients would need to be re-homed. It was felt by the staff and some of the management team, that it wasn't executed as carefully as it should have been. So an application was made to delay closure by another 6 months as the so-called 'private markets' hadn't had time to cater for everyone that would be leaving the rapidly closing institution. The application was granted and Alleyn and Browning wards were kept open for the remaining few. Christmas that year was a small gathering upstairs in the Browning ward day room. None of the decorations were removed because in the New Year, the door was locked for the final time.
Then in February after a prolonged dispute, the Bromley Health Authority decided at the last minute to pay for a closing ceremony. It took place on the 29th of February and just under 500 people turned up: staff, ex-patients, management, dignitaries, etc... There was food; speeches; stories; a church service; displays of memorabilia; a tear or two and then one last walk around. After which, the building was handed to it's beneficiary's security agents who began sealing up the last remaining wards.
All wards apart from Administration were locked up and windows on the ground floor secured. Anything of real value or importance was taken out and the rest dumped in alcoves, sheds, corridors or store rooms. Among the things that were left: letters to patients, clothing, drugs, information booklets, files of pre-1960s medical notes and paperwork. Then in April 1992, the last of the remaining team handed over the keys to security and left...
You can read about the days events in an article called, 'Death of a hospital' by P. Piezchniak and D. Murphy here. (Please note that this is a .pdf file so you'll need a reader to open it.)