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THE REEDER 2020
REED’S HERITAGE
EPIDEMICS AT THE SCHOOL
Using his extensive knowledge of our rich history, OR Committee member, Andy Wotton (Mullens 1975), has compiled this fascinating account of past medical professionals who served the School.
The COVID-19 pandemic could be seen as the worst outbreak of disease in its history. Apart from a very tiny minority of the world’s population, no living being has experienced anything like the Coronavirus which spread so rapidly to every corner of the globe from Wuhan in China. The disruption to the lives of the School and the wider Reed’s community has been immense. Throughout this year’s magazine, there are many references to the heroic efforts of all those in the NHS, as well as countless hundreds of thousands in other ‘key-worker’ roles, so it seems appropriate for the Reed’s Heritage archive piece this year to shine a light on those who have been responsible for maintaining the health of the pupils over the generations.
Throughout the crisis, as with year’s pandemic, those responsible for the medical provision and supervision of the sick were heroic in their efforts to tend the children. The two men in charge were Dr Dennis de Berdt Hovell, aged 48 at the time of the outbreak, and his junior partner, Dr Charles Dudley Kingsfold who was 35. Their efforts, however, would have been far less effective were it not for the dedication of the nurses, both professional and auxiliary. The Head Nurse was Margaret Neale, who was born and raised in Hackney. Writing in 1890, a former pupil, Charles Pipe, who nearly died, but recovered after six weeks, remembered Margaret’s care and kindness.
Hackney 1865 – Typhoid The first great outbreak of illness, and the deadliest, in the School’s history occurred between November and December 1865 (often mistakenly recorded as 1866), when 214 children out of a total of 461 contracted Typhoid. The School’s Annual Report of that year confirmed that fifteen children died during the outbreak. The first pupil was Alexander Pardon on the 21st November, aged 11. Such was the random nature of the outbreak his younger sister, Mary Ann Pardon, survived. The youngest to die was George Frankland Dady who was just 9 years of age when he passed away on the 10th December. The oldest and last pupil was 14-year-old Frances Armour on the 2nd January 1866. The number of cases came thick and fast. Between the 5th and 11th November, there were 40. The following week the number rose by 76 and, one week later, 83 new cases were recorded. The worst single day was the 16th November, when 21 new cases were diagnosed.
“Miss Neale was one of the kindest souls that ever breathed, and I think that was the reason we preferred being in the Infirmary to over the way. Never shall I forget her extreme kindness to me, of which it has been my pleasure of late years to thank her personally and very slightly repay her.”
Another nurse, this time singled out in an article for the medical journal, The Lancet, was Mrs Anne Boor, in which it said, “She displays, in regard to the case of each sick child, a knowledge and an interest almost parental.” Others mentioned for their sterling efforts, although sadly we have no knowledge of them, were a Miss Johnson, a Miss Denner and someone called Caroline Cowen. As a direct result of the outbreak, the Governors took the decision to move the School out of the sprawling metropolis of Victorian London to pastures new. The place they chose was a 36-acre site adjacent to Watford Railway Junction, which opened to much fanfare on the 20th July 1871. Nurse Margaret Neale decided not to move to Watford and remained in Hackney for the remainder of her life, as did Anne Boor, along with her husband Edward, who was an Accountant at the School. The Infirmary 1910s
