My self imposed exile from Cane Hill in late 2003 didn’t result in a total excommunication with the site itself. I received an ongoing reappraisal of the hospital, its condition, and the ever increasing security, via a new generation of urban explorers who were regularly transgressing its perimeter fence and exploring the buildings.
One of these visitors was Keith Boucher. A film producer, he was looking for a subject for his seminal documentary and happened upon Cane Hill. After drawn out meetings with incumbent NHS Estates, and future owner English Partnerships, he managed to wangle an official visit within its crumbling walls for a recce.
He sent me a few shots from his hurried tour around the buildings, newly exposed after the severe undergrowth removal which began in 2005. He pointed out one in particular, a shot taken looking down at some subterranean windows, firmly shut, and looking out towards a sheer vertical wall. Surely this was a basement window near Administration?
It turned out to be a basement window at the back of Browning/Blake, in a small enclosed courtyard obliquely fenced in by the crazily angled corridors and ward walls. I was stumped and poured over the maps. Unfortunately Keith was vague about the location, so definitively pin-pointing the basement was going to be difficult.
English Partnerships were quick to embellish the tale, relating to Keith how there was a basement at Cane Hill still intact and full of historical records, arcane medical equipment and vintage ECT machines. Had Keith chanced upon a treasure trove at Cane Hill? Did these windows conceal Cane Hill’s final secret? Keith was fired up and anxious to discover the truth, but a change of management at English Partnerships lead to a blanket refusal to let him enter the buildings and his film looked scuppered.
Five years after I literally ran out of Cane Hill, I was back within its decaying walls. The objectives of the day were to climb the interior of the water tower, photograph as many of the wards as possible, and visit the Chapel and Administration. But, also in the back of my mind (as it had been during the intervening years) was that mysterious basement. Given Keith’s rough description of its location would we be able to find it?
As it turned out, we did.
We were returning from our exploration of the Administration Block, walking the western corridor flanking the chapel. The mood was calm and collected; the site appeared to be quite deserted despite our reservations that Squibb’s demolition workers or security guards would pounce on us at any moment.
Our attention was now focused on the wards on the western side of the hospital. But walking up the corridor, and not tempted by the denists and X-Ray rooms which had occupied us during our initial walk down, I happened to look out into a tiny courtyard to my left. It was overgrown and unkempt. And then I remembered Keith’s mysterious basement.
“Hang on.”
My colleagues paused, wondering why I’d decided to dive into this nondescript space. As I battled the Buddleia, I saw a railing guarding a sheer drop alongside the northern wall. I pressed on and was soon standing at the edge, looking down at the two dark windows Keith had photographed all those years ago.
“Guys, what do you make of this?”
Marlon peered down to the dark windows. “A basement? But there are no stairs around here.”
Everyone’s curiosity was piqued. It was agreed that the only way to find out what was down there was for someone to climb down, enter the mysterious basement and find a way back up.
In the end Major Tom nimbly stood astride the railings and then climbed down into the hole below. Luckily the windows were unlocked and Tom was able to coax one open. He then disappeared from view into the gloom.
“What’s in there?”
“A room. Hang on, there’s a door.”
We heard the squeak as the door was slowly opened. The noises became fainter as Tom moved further into the darkness. After a wait of about a minute, he reappeared.
“There’s a door to the outside, but there’s nothing but rubble outside.”
There was only one part of the hospital near this basement reduced to rubble. We left the courtyard, entered the corridor network, and pushed our way out into the shell of the main hall.
The remains of the main hall resembled the small courtyard we’d just left. The area was completely overgrown with Buddleia bushes and the floor was reduced to rough rubble. Six years ago this was the asylum’s ballroom. Now it was a wasteland.
We could hear Tom as he continued to force the door open, pushing against the pile of rubble around its base. And he could also hear us: “Hey guys, where are we?”
“In the main hall.”
We turned a corner and saw Tom struggling to open the door. So our underground room was accessed via a stairway originally concealed under the stage of the main hall.
We forced our way around the recalcitrant door and found ourselves in a large, dark featureless room. Like most of Cane Hill, mouldy old furniture remained with a large table along the length of the room, chairs along the other and coat hooks above.
We’d found a changing room, a room where patients, staff and visitors could prepare before appearing on the stage. I’d long assumed the changing room had been lost in the fire, presuming it was located under the former stage itself. But I didn’t expect it to be a subterranean room situated under the corridor network.
A door to the south led to a small toilet and sinks. The windows here looked out towards the sheer vertical wall which had so confused us. This was where Tom gingerly climbed down and let himself in.
Whilst I’m sure other explorers had also discovered these rooms, it was a first for us. Additionally it solved the long standing mystery which I was glad was now laid to rest; otherwise I would’ve always been wondering about that mysterious basement and what it contained.
Checking back with the modern plans showed the railings shielding the basement windows (depicted by double lines on the plan). Both the railings to the south (for the toilet windows) and those to the west (for the changing room windows) were clearly shown. As were the stairs leading down to the basement, which I’d always read as steps leading up to the stage.
There was a similar basement room to the north but we didn’t check that one. I think we’re all rather secretly disappointed that our underground room didn’t yield more secrets of Cane Hill.
What of English Partnerships' claim of an underground room full of untouched hospital goodies? Its believability persisted until Keith asked about the rumour of a tunnel from the Administration basement to a small cottage which stood by the tennis courts. English Partnerships nodded eagerly and quickly confirmed its existence; but also mentioned that it was in a dangerous state, full of nine foot deep pits.
At this point the tunnel and the fantasy basement both disappeared in a flash of incredulity.
All the best,
Simon
One of these visitors was Keith Boucher. A film producer, he was looking for a subject for his seminal documentary and happened upon Cane Hill. After drawn out meetings with incumbent NHS Estates, and future owner English Partnerships, he managed to wangle an official visit within its crumbling walls for a recce.
He sent me a few shots from his hurried tour around the buildings, newly exposed after the severe undergrowth removal which began in 2005. He pointed out one in particular, a shot taken looking down at some subterranean windows, firmly shut, and looking out towards a sheer vertical wall. Surely this was a basement window near Administration?
It turned out to be a basement window at the back of Browning/Blake, in a small enclosed courtyard obliquely fenced in by the crazily angled corridors and ward walls. I was stumped and poured over the maps. Unfortunately Keith was vague about the location, so definitively pin-pointing the basement was going to be difficult.
English Partnerships were quick to embellish the tale, relating to Keith how there was a basement at Cane Hill still intact and full of historical records, arcane medical equipment and vintage ECT machines. Had Keith chanced upon a treasure trove at Cane Hill? Did these windows conceal Cane Hill’s final secret? Keith was fired up and anxious to discover the truth, but a change of management at English Partnerships lead to a blanket refusal to let him enter the buildings and his film looked scuppered.
Five years after I literally ran out of Cane Hill, I was back within its decaying walls. The objectives of the day were to climb the interior of the water tower, photograph as many of the wards as possible, and visit the Chapel and Administration. But, also in the back of my mind (as it had been during the intervening years) was that mysterious basement. Given Keith’s rough description of its location would we be able to find it?
As it turned out, we did.
We were returning from our exploration of the Administration Block, walking the western corridor flanking the chapel. The mood was calm and collected; the site appeared to be quite deserted despite our reservations that Squibb’s demolition workers or security guards would pounce on us at any moment.
Our attention was now focused on the wards on the western side of the hospital. But walking up the corridor, and not tempted by the denists and X-Ray rooms which had occupied us during our initial walk down, I happened to look out into a tiny courtyard to my left. It was overgrown and unkempt. And then I remembered Keith’s mysterious basement.
“Hang on.”
My colleagues paused, wondering why I’d decided to dive into this nondescript space. As I battled the Buddleia, I saw a railing guarding a sheer drop alongside the northern wall. I pressed on and was soon standing at the edge, looking down at the two dark windows Keith had photographed all those years ago.
“Guys, what do you make of this?”
Marlon peered down to the dark windows. “A basement? But there are no stairs around here.”
Everyone’s curiosity was piqued. It was agreed that the only way to find out what was down there was for someone to climb down, enter the mysterious basement and find a way back up.
In the end Major Tom nimbly stood astride the railings and then climbed down into the hole below. Luckily the windows were unlocked and Tom was able to coax one open. He then disappeared from view into the gloom.
“What’s in there?”
“A room. Hang on, there’s a door.”
We heard the squeak as the door was slowly opened. The noises became fainter as Tom moved further into the darkness. After a wait of about a minute, he reappeared.
“There’s a door to the outside, but there’s nothing but rubble outside.”
There was only one part of the hospital near this basement reduced to rubble. We left the courtyard, entered the corridor network, and pushed our way out into the shell of the main hall.
[
The remains of the main hall resembled the small courtyard we’d just left. The area was completely overgrown with Buddleia bushes and the floor was reduced to rough rubble. Six years ago this was the asylum’s ballroom. Now it was a wasteland.
We could hear Tom as he continued to force the door open, pushing against the pile of rubble around its base. And he could also hear us: “Hey guys, where are we?”
“In the main hall.”
We turned a corner and saw Tom struggling to open the door. So our underground room was accessed via a stairway originally concealed under the stage of the main hall.
[
We forced our way around the recalcitrant door and found ourselves in a large, dark featureless room. Like most of Cane Hill, mouldy old furniture remained with a large table along the length of the room, chairs along the other and coat hooks above.
We’d found a changing room, a room where patients, staff and visitors could prepare before appearing on the stage. I’d long assumed the changing room had been lost in the fire, presuming it was located under the former stage itself. But I didn’t expect it to be a subterranean room situated under the corridor network.
[
A door to the south led to a small toilet and sinks. The windows here looked out towards the sheer vertical wall which had so confused us. This was where Tom gingerly climbed down and let himself in.
Whilst I’m sure other explorers had also discovered these rooms, it was a first for us. Additionally it solved the long standing mystery which I was glad was now laid to rest; otherwise I would’ve always been wondering about that mysterious basement and what it contained.
Checking back with the modern plans showed the railings shielding the basement windows (depicted by double lines on the plan). Both the railings to the south (for the toilet windows) and those to the west (for the changing room windows) were clearly shown. As were the stairs leading down to the basement, which I’d always read as steps leading up to the stage.
[
There was a similar basement room to the north but we didn’t check that one. I think we’re all rather secretly disappointed that our underground room didn’t yield more secrets of Cane Hill.
[
What of English Partnerships' claim of an underground room full of untouched hospital goodies? Its believability persisted until Keith asked about the rumour of a tunnel from the Administration basement to a small cottage which stood by the tennis courts. English Partnerships nodded eagerly and quickly confirmed its existence; but also mentioned that it was in a dangerous state, full of nine foot deep pits.
At this point the tunnel and the fantasy basement both disappeared in a flash of incredulity.
[
All the best,
Simon
