The Worcester State Hospital offered a novel and compelling promise: that insanity could be cured by humane treatment in a therapeutic setting. Patients would enjoy its idyllic landscape, genteel interiors, wholesome food supplied from its farm, and the individualized attention of medical professionals. The hospital's reputation as a "model institution" helped to position the city of Worcester as an economic center and pioneer in social reform. Yet overcrowding, insufficient funds, and the limitations of medical knowledge undermined the institution's mission, leading to the abandonment of its original features. Despite downsizing and decay, the Worcester State Hospital continues to exert a tangible presence on the landscape. Its iconic clock tower, salvaged from demolition, stands as a reminder of its historical legacy and of the continuing role of the site--now the Worcester Recovery Center and Hospital--in the treatment of mental illness.

Danvers State Hospital revolutionized mental health care for more than a century, beginning in 1878. Today, it's buildings still have stories to tell. Perched high on the top of Hathorne Hill in what was once the village of Salem, Danvers State Insane Asylum was, for more than a century, a monument to modern psychiatry and the myriad advances in mental health treatment. From the time it opened its doors in 1878 until they were shuttered for good in 1992, the asylum represented decades of reform, the physical embodiment of the heroic visions of Dorothea Dix and Thomas Story Kirkbride. It would stand abandoned until 2005, when demolition began. Along with a dedicated group of private citizens, the Danvers Historical Society fought to preserve the Kirkbride structure, an effort that would result in the reuse of the administration building and two additional wings. Danvers has earned a unique place in history; the shell of the original Kirkbride building still stands overlooking the town. Though it has been changed drastically, the asylum's story continues as do efforts to memorialize it.

History of Westborough State Hospital, Westborough, Massachusetts, opened in 1884, and closed in 2010.

Founded in 1797, Spring Grove State Hospital, now known as Spring Grove Hospital Center, is the second oldest continuously operating state psychiatric hospital in the country. This volume will reveal through a broad array of poignant historic images the extensive, complex, and fascinating history of Marylands oldest hospital. Included are interior and exterior photographs of many of the hospitals historic buildings, as well as depictions of daily life at the hospital during a bygone era. The institutions historic pedigree includes its role as a hospital for soldiers and sailors wounded in the Battle of North Point during the War of 1812, and Spring Groves Main Building may have been used to quarter soldiers during the Civil War. Once a largely self-contained asylum, Spring Groves history is closely tied to the crusader Dorothea Dix, as well as to many more recent treatment advances.

A Chicago Tribune "Best Books of 2014" • A Slate "Best Books 2014: Staff Picks" • A St. Louis Post-Dispatch "Best Books of 2014" The fascinating story of one of the most important scientific discoveries of the twentieth century. We know it simply as "the pill," yet its genesis was anything but simple. Jonathan Eig's masterful narrative revolves around four principal characters: the fiery feminist Margaret Sanger, who was a champion of birth control in her campaign for the rights of women but neglected her own children in pursuit of free love; the beautiful Katharine McCormick, who owed her fortune to her wealthy husband, the son of the founder of International Harvester and a schizophrenic; the visionary scientist Gregory Pincus, who was dismissed by Harvard in the 1930s as a result of his experimentation with in vitro fertilization but who, after he was approached by Sanger and McCormick, grew obsessed with the idea of inventing a drug that could stop ovulation; and the telegenic John Rock, a Catholic doctor from Boston who battled his own church to become an enormously effective advocate in the effort to win public approval for the drug that would be marketed by Searle as Enovid. Spanning the years from Sanger’s heady Greenwich Village days in the early twentieth century to trial tests in Puerto Rico in the 1950s to the cusp of the sexual revolution in the 1960s, this is a grand story of radical feminist politics, scientific ingenuity, establishment opposition, and, ultimately, a sea change in social attitudes. Brilliantly researched and briskly written, The Birth of the Pill is gripping social, cultural, and scientific history.

Opened on May 1, 1854, the State Almshouse at Tewksbury was a venture by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts to provide economical care for state paupers. Originally intended to accommodate 500 residents, by the end of 1854 the almshouse had admitted well over 2,200 paupers, thus necessitating future expansion. Although the virtue of the institution was called into question in 1883 by Gov. Benjamin Butler, who decried Supt. Thomas J. Marsh, the almshouse would continue to serve the destitute of the commonwealth for years to come. The name would later be changed to Tewksbury State Hospital to reflect the inclusion of the mentally ill, the sick, and those suffering from infectious disease as patients. Today, the hospital remains operational in providing specialized care in the Thomas J. Saunders Building while also serving as host to various governmental agencies and community organizations like the Public Health Museum on its historic campus. Although many of the early structures were demolished in the 1970s, the Tewksbury State Hospital remains an active institution brimming with architectural beauty and a rich public health history.

Nearly two decades after it closed, the South Carolina State Hospital continues to hold a palpable mystique in Columbia and throughout the state. Founded in 1821 as the South Carolina Lunatic Asylum, it housed, fed and treated thousands of patients incapable of surviving on their own. The patient population in 1961 eclipsed 6,600, well above its listed capacity of 4,823, despite an operating budget that ranked forty-fifth out of the forty-eight states with such large public hospitals. By the mid-1990s, the patient population had fallen under 700, and the hospital had become a symbol of captivity, horror and chaos. Author William Buchheit details this history through the words and interviews of those who worked on the iconic campus.

Vol. for -1913/14 include Report of Worcester State Asylum.