Psychiatric Bulletin (2002) 26: 238-239. doi: 10.1192/pb.26.6.238
© 2002 The Royal College of Psychiatrists
Psychiatric Bulletin (2002) 26: 238-239
© 2002 The Royal College of Psychiatrists
Edward Beresford Davies
Formerly Consultant Psychiatrist Fulbourn Hospital, Cambridge
Alan Broadhurst
Dr Davies died of myeloid leukaemia on 13 August 2001, aged 88 years.
Beresford, as he was known by all of his professional associates, was one of
Cambridge's most distinguished psychiatrists, a statesman-like figure and a
legend among his colleagues and patients. He was an indefatigable worker and
he continued to see a few patients until shortly before his
death.
Edward was born in Liverpool. He went to Oundle and there excelled in
shooting. After school he went up to Clare College, Cambridge, in 1931 to read
Medical Sciences Tripos. During his first year at Cambridge he developed
pneumonia that was slow to resolve. It was decided that he would be helped by
a period of mountain air and was sent to Norway to convalesce. While there he
was invited to attend a wedding; this was a very important occasion in his
life for there he met Hendriette Fuglesang, the girl who eventually became his
wife.
Back in Cambridge he took a full part in the life of his college and the
university. He continued to shoot and he took up fencing. He became fascinated
by the theatre and regularly wrote reviews for the newspapers. He took his BA
in 1934 and went to the Middlesex Hospital to continue his medical studies. He
married Hendriette soon after he qualified. War was looming and, after a brief
period as a junior psychiatrist at the Towers Hospital in Leicester, he
volunteered for the Royal Air Force.
With his natural flair for languages he had picked up Norwegian very
quickly as the result of his days in Norway and from Hendriette; he soon
became fluent in the language. So equipped he was posted to a Norwegian
Spitfire unit based variously in North Weald, Manston and Ipswich. Always keen
on flying, he undertook pilot training but was frustrated by the fact that, as
a medical officer, he was never allowed to fly himself operationally. However,
he did fly as an RAF observer over the Battle of the Falaise. He wrote a major
part of the Manual of Air Sea Rescue and, later, the Medical
History of the RAF. He reached the rank of Wing Commander, and for a
time, served on the staff at the Air Ministry. He went to France within a few
days of the invasion and was in Paris before it was liberated.
Having observed the effect of battle stress upon the men with whom he had
served, his earlier intention to become a psychiatrist was stronger than ever,
and after leaving the Royal Air Force he went back to the Towers Hospital for
2 years. Then followed a year at Banstead Hospital, near Espom, Surrey, and at
St Stephen's Hospital in Chelsea. He was then ready to seek a consultant post
and he was fortunate enough to be accepted for a job in Cambridge. However, he
soon came face to face with the fact that there were considerable problems in
the Cambridge psychiatric service. Psychiatry there was entirely centred upon
Fulbourn Hospital, a large traditional mental hospital that had been built in
the mid-19th century some 4 miles outside the town and was still run along old
fashioned lines. The patients were treated humanely but therapeutic methods
were hopelessly outdated and there were major difficulties with the then
medical superintendent, essentially a decent man but one whose influence was
disruptive and opposed to change. Together with two other young and newly
appointed colleagues, Edward pressed for a re-organisation of the service. He
was totally opposed to the idea that Fulbourn should remain out of sight and
out of mind, completely detached from the main general hospital. He insisted
that he should be given out-patient facilities at Addenbrooke's and was
subsequently the first consultant psychiatrist appointed specifically to that
hospital. Like all psychiatrists of his generation he was enormously excited
by the discovery and development of the neuroleptic drugs, providing, as they
did, a first significant input into the treatment of schizophrenia. But when
the anti-depressant drugs appeared in 1960 he had the foresight to recognise
that these would have an equally far reaching impact upon the care of the
mentally ill. In that same year he organised an international conference in
Cambridge, one of the first of its kind, to look at all aspects of
anti-depressant treatment. His approach to his patients was essentially
electic. He used psychotropic medication when it was indicated, but he was
also a well-trained and skilful psychotherapist. He was sensitive and
extremely kind to his patients and he was held in the highest esteem by them.
He developed a flourishing private practice but it was not widely known that
he was exceptionally generous to many of those patients who came to his rooms.
Doctors, nurses and members of the cloth were never charged fees and people
whom he realised were hard up paid only minimal amounts. He had
always been interested in the use of lithium in the treatment of affective
illness and together with a patient who suffered from bipolar affective
disorder, he started the Lithium Club, open to all who needed to take lithium.
Originally a local initiative, this became a national charity, intended to
provide support to patients and their relatives not only from the Cambridge
area but from all over the country. Another of his particular interests and
areas of expertise was in the care of patients with alcoholism.
Edward passed the DPM in 1940 at the time of joining the RAF and he gained
his MD in 1949, this based upon his research and thesis into the effects of
electroconvulsive therapy. He was a Founder member of the Royal College of
Psychiatrists and he was elected to the Fellowship in 1971. He was an
associate lecturer at the University of Cambridge.
Hendriette died in 1993. Her death, after 55 years of marriage, hit him
very hard. By good fortune, after a few lonely years, he married Barbara
Simpson, herself a doctor's widow and an old friend of the family. She gave
him an entirely new lease of life. Those who knew him well watched him
flourish again. He is survived by his three children.