The downfall of 'wicked' Island workhouse master Nicol Armstrong

Today, hidden away amongst the buildings of St Mary’s Hospital is the original main building of the Workhouse dating from the 1770s. <i>(Image: Alan Stroud/County Press)</i>
Today, hidden away amongst the buildings of St Mary’s Hospital is the original main building of the Workhouse dating from the 1770s. (Image: Alan Stroud/County Press)

Mr Armstrong was the master of the workhouse at St Mary’s in Newport on the Isle of Wight during the 1880s and 1890s.

Without wishing to speak ill of the dead, it is safe to say he would not have won a ‘Mr Personality’ award.

For instance, on August 31, 1889, the County Press reported: “In court on Saturday, Joseph Jacobs, an old man asked to: make a complaint of the treatment I have received at the hands of Mr Armstrong.

“When I was ill, he refused to give me medical assistance.

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“I have spent my best years in Her Majesty's Army, and now in my old age, because I complained, I am treated worse than a convict by that man.”

Indeed, Mr Armstrong’s behaviour led to several appearances in court over the years where, luckily for him, he was always found not guilty.

In 1784, Thomas Rowlandson, a popular artist of his day, made a tour of the Isle of Wight, sketching as he went. His work included this watercolour of an auction in St James’ Square. (Image: County Press) Charges of using offensive language to inmates were brought and in 1894 Armstrong was accused of viciously punching a woman visitor with a babe in arms.

He seemed untouchable. But in 1895, his world began to collapse around him.

It all started in July when the ‘Brandy Committee’ of the workhouse (yes, there was such a thing) declared: "The consumption of brandy is more than twice that of other workhouses in England.

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“There is something very wrong. The annual consumption last year was 525 pints, costing £56, and a curious feature is that every week the return shows that a pint and a half was unaccounted for, representing three-quarters of a year's consumption.

“Mr Armstrong’s explanation was: It evaporated away, dried round the funnel, and that sort of thing" (laughter).

It is August 31, 1929, and these elegant cars lined up in St Thomas’s Square, Newport belong to members of The Isle of Wight Automobile Club who are on the start line for the annual children’s outing. (Image: County Press/Alan Stroud) “Twenty-eight gallons of brandy lasted six months and they found that the number of people served with it was nine. (Shame!) Turning to beer, the consumption was - inmates 439 gallons, officers and servants 1,394 gallons.”

Not surprisingly, it was decided to do away with ‘alcoholic stimulants’ in the house.

Shortly afterwards, it was sensationally revealed that in February, Miss Biles, head nurse, had accused Nurse Boughton of having a fling with Armstrong, a married man.

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Miss Biles was heard by an inmate to say to her: "I saw the master kiss you tonight and you ought to be ashamed of yourself."

Nurse Boughton made no reply and Nurse Biles then called out: “You wicked creatures.”

The case revolved around a visit Armstrong had made to Nurse Boughton’s room one evening.

Westridge Construction won the contract to build the new bus station in South Street and work began in the summer of 1961, with not a safety helmet in sight! It opened in May the following year at a cost of just over £100,000. (Image: County Press/Alan Stroud) He admitted that he did go into her room at 10pm one evening but declared: “What Miss Biles alleged to have occurred there, as to my embracing the nurse, is absolutely denied.”

The House Committee were not satisfied: “The gravest matter is a distinct misstatement made by the master with reference to his reason for entering Nurse Boughton's room, viz to examine two hot-water pipes.

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“The board's inspector visited the room and found there were no hot-water pipes.

“The master then admitted that this was the case. He must now be regarded as having forfeited their confidence and they require him to offer his resignation.”

Not surprisingly, Armstrong did not want to resign.

Rowlandson’s sketch of Newport Market. The building in the background is clearly recognisable as the inspiration for the building that replaced it, today’s Guildhall. (Image: County Press) On July 31, he wrote a self-serving letter to the board: “I hope you will pardon me for not tendering my resignation but I feel strongly that I ought to place a few fresh facts before you.

“Because the matron was unable to visit the sick wards between February 21 and 27, I personally visited them on February 22 and 23, I again visited the infirmary.

“Also, on the February 25, I superintended repairs in the female block, and the following day I was in the infectious wards whilst repairs were being executed.

“I was also daily engaged in superintending 70 or 80 workmen who were in the house repairing walls, ceilings, et cetera.

“Upon the hearing of the inquiry I was greatly distressed and hardly knew what I said or did.

“I admit that in my evidence I inadvertently stated that there were two hot-water pipes in Nurse Boughton's room behind the door.

“Had I not been in such a distressed condition as that I should no doubt have remembered that the pipes were in an adjoining room.

“I am sorry for making such a serious error.

“If I am compelled to resign I shall for ever afterwards be barred from holding any other appointment under your honourable board, and thus most unlikely to obtain employment in any other similar capacity.

“I beg to remain your obedient servant, Nicol Armstrong.”

The County Press added: “A petition has been handed in, signed by about 36 inmates - all women - to the effect that they deeply regretted Mr Armstrong had to resign, that he had their warm sympathy and had always shown great kindness to all of them.”

The petition didn’t help; the board were unmoved. Mr Armstrong resigned a few days later.