From the Introduction in Graham
Evans Book
Pictorial Record Between the Years
1762 - 1995
The Royal Naval Hospital at Stonehouse in Plymouth occupies
a unique position in the memories of all who have ever worked
or been treated there. Its high grey walls originally designed
to keep patients in, now guard against the encroachment of
urbanisation. The central buildings of the hospital have changed
very little since its completion in 1762, and the grounds have
a quiet, almost rural charm that combine to provide it with
an air of grace.
Two hundred and thirty five years ago in 1760, the first patients
were moved in from the malt houses and warehouses along the
shoreline to occupy a hospital whose design was so far advanced
as to make it the finest in Europe. Social conditions at the
time however, were primitive, and expertise in the fields of
medicine, surgery and nursing was in its infancy. It took another
century for these disciplines to innovate themselves to begin
to achieve the high standards we now take for granted.
The gentlemen surgeons who paraded in high collars down the
colonnade, the ladies from every calling who rolled up their
sleeves to nurse the dying; and the VAD's and Sick Berth Attendants
who took their professionalism all over the world, are the
products of the Royal Naval Hospital for the reception of sick
and hurt seamen and marines' at Stonehouse in Plymouth, Devon.
Graham Evans
On 31st March 1995, RNH Plymouth ( Stonehouse )
built for the reception of sick and hurt seamen and marines,
closed its gates, 235 years after admitting it's first patient.
We lucky few, who served and lived there will remember
the old girl with much fondness, the like of which, will never
be seen again.
J.R
In a years time with the closure of RNH Haslar,
the long RNH tradition of service and eccentricity will finally
vanish and thousands of doctors and staff who were part of
it, even briefly and sometimes unwillingly, will sense the
loss. The charm of the naval hospitals lay in their being just
a little behind the times, generally never too busy, and always
part of a greater service whose traditions they shared. Clubby,
orderly, quaint, and decently resourced, they were everything
that the current frontline NHS is not—clearly the reason
they had to go, but a reason also to mourn their passing.
Colin Douglas, doctor
and novelist

Maurice Huddart would like your help
Hello,
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