Agnes Jones (1832-1868), English Workhouse Infirmary Reformer

This was the era of the terrible Irish Potato Famine, which killed more than 10 percent of the Irish population and left millions dispossessed. Jones became a lay nurse, treating sick or injured children in her area. At age 14, she wrote, “Father says I should know a path my life is taking. I believe my life will be spent caring for the sick.”

Jones had been deeply religious since childhood, so she regarded nursing as a form of ministry, often administering bible readings along with bandages. In 1860, she entered the Kaiserwerth Deaconess Institute near Düsseldorf, Germany, where Florence Nightingale had trained some years earlier.

Although her mother was not enthusiastic about her religious calling or interest in caring for the poor and the sick — Jones was an attractive, well-spoken young woman of marriageable age — Jones continued pursuing her calling at the London Bible and Domestic Female Mission. In 1862, she joined St. Thomas’s Hospital as a Nightingale Nurse, whom Nightingale later described as one of her “best pupils.” By the winter of 1864, Jones had already been the superintendent of three different small hospitals, with a focus on what we would now call critical care.

The Matron of Brownlow Hill

The previous challenges of her short nursing career paled before what awaited Jones at her next job: as superintendent of the infirmary at Brownlow Hill, one of Liverpool’s three workhouses. Overcrowded, understaffed and filthy, the Brownlow Hill hospital was one of the worst hospitals in England.

Many respectable Englishmen of the time felt the terrible conditions of the workhouses were only what paupers deserved. Even Nightingale condescendingly dismissed the workhouse inmates as “more untameable [sic] than lions.”  However, a local merchant, William Rathbone, felt otherwise and began privately funding the training of nurses to care for the poor in his district. At Nightingale’s suggestion, Rathbone hired Jones as matron of the Brownlow Hill hospital, leading a staff of 12 Nightingale Nurses to begin transforming the fetid infirmary into a proper hospital.

Although Jones believed in the cause, she was not enthusiastic about this daunting task. The infirmary’s nurse/patient ratio in the early days was 1:100. Not surprisingly, patient acuity was disastrously high and staff morale decidedly low. “I am almost distracted between sickness and anxiety and [staff] drunkenness,” Jones wrote. “How little I can do!”

Despite her doubts, she gave it her all, working grueling 18-hour days. In addition to nursing, administration and training, she took the time to give weekly (and later daily) bible readings and even arranged for patients to receive fresh bread. Inspired by this effort, Nightingale began pushing for nationwide legal reforms.

In 1867, Parliament amended the Poor Law to provide a taxpayer-financed medical relief fund, separate from the workhouses.

Death and Remembrance

Unfortunately, Jones could not enjoy the fruits of this victory. In early 1868, she contracted typhus from one of her nurses and died on February 19. She was only 35 years old. Nightingale gave the eulogy at her funeral. The Lady Chapel of Liverpool’s Anglican cathedral later commemorated Jones’s life with a stained glass window.

No static monument could really capture the scope of her achievement: a dramatic elevation of the standard of care for England’s poorest patients. Jones had once written, “There is no reason whatsoever why workhouse hospitals should not be like the best private hospitals for the sick.” In just three years, she made hers exactly that.

AMANDA GHOSH is a freelance writer specializing in the healthcare industry. She has worked as a wellness director, adjunct instructor, and contributed to public health initiatives on three continents.

In this Article: Historical Nurses