Our image of the Victorian asylum is not of patient-friendly talking treatments, or high numbers of patients walking out of the gates, successfully cured.

Most would imagine something more akin to Bedlam, the nickname acquired by London's notorious Bethlehem mental hospital.

But the Glasgow Asylum for Lunatics, which opened its doors in December 1814, and has continued to exist in one form or another until the present day, defies popular assumptions.

As the institution, relocated seven years ago to new modern facilities at the Gartnavel Royal, marks 200 years in existence, medical historians are uncovering a different picture.

The history of the institution, which has often been at the forefront of enlightened treatment of the mentally infirm, is being celebrated, culminating in the unveiling of a new piece of public art by sculptor Jeff Robb, outside the current location of the hospital, downhill from the old Gartnavel Victorian asylum site, in early 2015.

Medicines were limited in the 19th Century, with patients treated using sedatives like laudanum and opium and bromides, and primitive treatments such as blood-letting and cupping were common. Yet talking cures were prominent and patients did recover, according to consultant psychiatrist Dr Iain Smith.

Dr Smith, has researched Gartnavel and the original Glasgow Asylum, which was sited at Dobbie's Loan from 1814-1843.

"A very high proportion of patients admitted to the C19th hospitals at Dobbie's Loan and at Gartnavel were subsequently discharged, 'cured' and 'relieved', despite the primitive medical treatments available at the time," he said.

"This is contrary to the popular belief that if you went into the Asylum, you would not return. The main treatment was TLC [tender loving care]."

According to historical records, over the 50 years from 1843-1893, 45% of all patients were discharged, having been cured or relieved of their symptoms.

After the Glasgow Asylum was moved to Gartnavel in 1843, photos and records show it became a world within a world, with patients taking part in activities such as curling and cricket, while working on a farm and a piggery. "It was offering asylum in a true sense. The hospital was a refuge for people who weren't understood in outside society," Dr Smith explains.

Dr David Yellowlees, who was medical superintendent of Gartnavel for 27 years at the end of the 19th Century lived in the hospital and brought his children up in his house there. His son's nanny was one of the patients, who suffered profound delusions about Queen Victoria but was otherwise a competent carer.

In the 20th Centurey, outpatient clinics and psychotherapy were introduced at an early date and psychoanalysts fleeing Nazi Germany were welcomed and given work at the hospital.

The image of overcrowding and ineffective treatment was closest to being realised in the 1950s, when major overcrowding hindered the ability of staff to work effectively. At one point the Glasgow Asylum, built at Gartnavel for 600 patients was housing around 900.

"Society was turning a blind eye, but there had to be a change and the hospital came to be at the forefront of de-institutionalisation," Dr Smith explains. "In the 1950s around 90% of all people with severe mental illness were in institutions, now around 90% are living at home in the community."

The care of people with mental health problems has changed dramatically for the better, but Dr Smith is frank about its limitations. "People come in to hospital for a much shorter time how and we try to minimise hospital stays.

"We have better drugs now which are more effective for specific problems - with anti psychotics, antidepressants, and mood stabilisers."

But medical understanding of mental illness has only advanced slowly, he says.

"We can give you a story about chemicals and genes, but the honest truth is we don't understand what causes schizophrenia, even though it is as common as diabetes."

Treatments are more effective though, and that's important when suicide rates are rising since the onset of austerity, he says. "If people tell us how they are feeling the drugs may well save some people's lives. So it is very important people talk about their mental health and seek help if they need it."

Colin McCormack, head of mental health services for the North West Glasgow Community Health Partnership, said: "The history is important, but it is not only about the history - it is about the now. Of course we should learn from history and show respect for the foresight of those who provided care in the past; but the real benefit of the celebratios has been to highlight all the good that is going on today and that even in the midst of mental illness this stuff makes you feel better."