Debutantes still danced at peak of Spanish flu outbreak

Despite Sydney being in the grip of a deadly contagion, the 1919 Peace Ball was held anyway.

Tram travellers wearing masks try to avoid the Sapnish flu epidemic in 1919.

Bud Macken, nephew of Francis Foy, who founded department store Mark Foy’s in Sydney, was 17 years old when the flu known as “Spanish Influenza”, “Pneumonic Flu” or simply “the Plague” took hold in Australia in January 1919.

The flu hit in three waves of increasing severity in terms of mortality rates — January 27 to March 18, March 19 to May 27, and May 28 to September 30 — before its impact lessened.

Bud Macken wrote of his recollections of the alarming leaps in mortalities: “First, a few cases — diagnosed as influenza. But they all died. Panic set in as the death toll grew to 12 daily, then 20, then started to soar to over 100 daily, then to over 400.”

According to NSW State Government Archives and Records, the death toll grew to 6387 in NSW with 22,000 cases of influenza ­reported in NSW overall but infections in metropolitan Sydney alone suspected to be as high as 290,000.

Bud Macken, circa 1914.

In January 1919 schools were closed and masks were required to be worn over the nose and mouth (to disobey, Macken wrote, was to risk arrest). Macken was sent home from Riverview. He recounted that at home tradesmen would toss deliveries of bread and meat over the fence.

Macken wrote that his stepfather caught Spanish influenza:

“We went up to Sydney for a reason unknown to me, to our flat in Elizabeth Bay and the inevitable happened. Artie got the flu. Within 24 hours of being stricken he turned a deep purple black colour, and was barely conscious. (A friend) nursed him, the authorities were notified, and drugs arrived together with special masks. We fumigated, chewed antiseptic sweets, and looked like a pack of dogs with big muzzles on. There was no crowding in the streets or trams, everyone kept as far from each other as possible. The disease was supposed to have emanated from fleas of rats which had been eating the long dead of the Western front. Whatever, the war carnage continued after the guns were silenced …”

When mortality rates fell, restrictions were relaxed in March 1919 only to be reinstated in April. In May they were eased again.

A Peace Ball had been scheduled for Friday, June 6, 1919. Bud Macken’s future wife, Estelle McDermott, daughter of prominent Sydney dentist OJ McDermott, wrote of preparing to make her debut at the ball: “Life was very gay and I made my debut at the Peace Ball. Seventy-two other Debs were trained by Mrs Albert Littlejohn for presentation to the Prince of Wales, later Edward VIII, and my Deb dress was gorgeous, made by Miss Turner of Mark Foy’s.”

Debutante Estelle McDermott.

In fact, the debutantes were ultimately presented to the state governor, Sir Walter Davidson, and his wife, Lady Davidson. Every one of the 1800 tickets had been sold. On June 7, 1919, a Sydney newspaper reported that the Peace Ball was the first big social function of its kind in NSW since the outbreak of war, and that it marked a return to Sydney’s old lighthearted ways.

The report said Sydney had spent four long, tear-filled and anxious years focused on helping to win the war, followed by the masking requirements and restrictions imposed by influenza; the Peace Ball was a welcome celebration in reaction to all those past hardships. The report enthused over the delightful spectacle of the debutantes and described the dance floor as initially uncomfortably crowded such that they were hard-pressed to protect their bouquets from being crushed by other dancers.

Estelle McDermott’s name appeared beside the report in a list of debutantes who attended. Beside that column, a shorter column ­appeared, providing an update on influenza figures; in the 24 hours to 8pm on June 6, 1919 (the night of the ball), there had been seven deaths of patients in Sydney metropolitan hospitals, 159 new influenza cases admitted and 67 patients discharged.

Nurses and doctors wearing protective masks vaccinate patients from Spanish influenza at Hyde Park innoculation depot in 1919 epidemic.

History would show that the Peace Ball fell within the period of greatest mortality attributable to the Spanish flu, and Estelle McDermott was later to learn that a number of the 72 young women who made their debuts with her subsequently died of it.

In the 1980s, speaking of her early life, my grandmother, Estelle Macken, would shudder at the memory of the Spanish flu and the lives lost. At the time, I believed that this story belonged to a different era when medicine was less effective than it had become.

In 2020, though, reading about the coronavirus and its impact on schools, small businesses, employment and morale, these stories from the past highlight the importance of avoiding crowds and keeping our distance, until we are confident that the danger has passed.

Melissa Coburn is a Melbourne-based writer.