Extracts From A Tribute Read by John Alexander’s Daughter In Law At His FuneralJohn was a good and kind man, an “officer and a gentleman” is the phrase that comes to mind. His School and Army friends remember him for his complete integrity. As an Adjutant working with the Territorial Army he was described as “the most civilised of adjutants, smooth and steady”. For myself, I was always proud to introduce John to any of my friends and …for example… walking around London he would always insist on walking on the kerb side of the pavement. Which I think is what gentlemen used to do!J
ohn’s first love was rowing and the River Thames. At St Pauls School in London, he is remembered as a remarkable sportsman. He was stroke for the winning crew at Henley Royal Regatta, winning the Princess Elizabeth Challenge Cup in 1950. And in the subsequent year he stroked the Ist 8 to 8th place in the Tideway Head of the River Race against some of the best adult crews in the country – a remarkable achievement for a schoolboy crew. His friend Tom Knott kindly requested St Pauls to send him the following extract from the Pauline : “The highest praise is due to Alexander, the stroke, Captain and in every way the leader of the crew: throughout the season’s racing and training his judgment and rhythm were rarely at fault”.
Tom himself has the highest praise for John as a captain and leader. Another friend says that John was an exceptional oarsman. He was headstrong, focussed, knew his own mind, and stuck to it. Full of guts and determination, there was no compromise. I would say that this attribute turned out to be a key part of John’s character throughout his life.
John was always fond of Henley. Gavin Sorrel, fellow Old Pauline, oarsman, student at Cambridge and best man at John’s wedding to Jennifer, remembers a lovely day at Henley when John’s father Charles, and another parent took them out to various pubs in Charles’s Aston Martin and a Vintage Raleigh. No drink driving rules in those days.
His children Mark and Maud have many happy memories of growing up the River Thames at Sunbury. The family rule in those days was that they had to be able to swim across the river before they were let loose on their own in the family rowing boat Hyacinth– enjoying tremendous freedom to explore – for as John certainly knew, quoting one of his favourite books: “there is nothing – absolutely nothing – half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats”.
As well as the Thames, John loved the Norfolk Broads. Mark recalls a family holiday on the Broads in a boat named Calypso, which had more than its fair share of incidents. On one occasion after a day’s sailing when mooring Calypso to the river bank for the night, the boat started to drift away. John was standing on the focsle and seeing the danger seized a line and bravely made a tremendous jump for the shore – failing to take account of the length of the line, he was brought up short in mid-air between boat & bank – like a cartoon character frozen momentarily in time – before crashing into the water with a huge splash. John dragged himself up the bank – dripping wet – line still in hand. And to the relief of his on-looking crew, proceeded to roar with laughter.
John loved talking and having long discussions. He was a very clever and knowledgeable man. He enjoyed talking to a wide range of people on many topics. He would have been my “phone a friend” if I was on “Who wants to be a Millionaire”.
Since moving to London 35 years ago, he built up some local friendships and seemed to me to be rather in with the Notting Hill bohemian art set. He was interested in many things. To keep fit he cycled to work every day to the Treasury through four parks – Kensington Gardens & Hyde Park, negotiated Hyde Park corner, and then Green Park, and St James. In retirement, he took a Maths degree and, in his typical way of knowing what he wanted, persuaded Birkbeck College to provide exactly the personally customised course that he wanted to study.
John joined the Royal Engineers from school, who sent him to Cambridge where at Jesus College he studied Engineering. The engineer in him came out in many ways….such as in the detailed level of understanding and solutions during the renovation of his house. Michael, his very experienced builder, worked closely with John for the last 17 years and says that John’s analysis was in some cases better than his own and he was often right. To quote Michael, he was “scrupulous to details” and “always knew what he wanted”.
With John, conversation was always the order of the day. He had strong views and could be forthright, but you were always able to say back what you felt. As many have told me, he had great wisdom and patience, and you could talk to him about anything personal. John was a great reader! – reading lots of books -many at the same time – and covering them with yellow post-it notes to recall key points. Daunts bookshop on Holland Park Road has lost a very good customer. Memories of many Christmases are of John in our sitting room dishing out books… one year we would all have to read Evelyn Waugh, the next Iris Murdoch ….and so on. This Christmas he bought four copies of HG Wells ‘A Short History of the World’ – one each for his Grandchildren.
John liked places and particularly London. His wife Jennifer remembers how very much they enjoyed motoring trips in their Morris Traveller to the Hartz mountains on breaks in Germany when posted there in the Army; and driving down to Italy to visit Venice. When he retired from his second career as a government statistician, John did some consultancy work for the Turkish Government and loved his visit to Istanbul.
John loved what London has to offer. He enjoyed music, supporting the Portobello Orchestra and for many years he was a choral singer. He enjoyed the theatre and was a regular supporter of the Tower Theatre Company. He was a friend of the Royal Academy and always went to the Summer Exhibition.
Family was very important to John. John and Jennifer were married for over 60 years. They met Scottish Dancing at Cambridge where John was a student and Jennifer worked. They lived in many places with John’s Army career, Mark being born in Germany. Even though they have for many years had separate homes – John in town and Jennifer in the country – they were both prodigious letter writers and continued regularly to meet up at weekends and occasional holidays.
John took an enormous interest in the lives and interests of his children and grandchildren. He was very proud of Mark and Maud. He always showed a great interest in the companies Mark worked for and the management issues involved. John was particularly interested in Mark’s current role running the Defence Academy at Shrivenham – originally the Royal Military College of Science, where John attended the Technical Command and Staff Course in 1963. He was proud also of his daughter Maud with her incredible skills in green woodwork and furniture making, moving into art and now teaching at art college.
He enjoyed long discussions with his grandson Jack, also in the engineering field, and there was a deep bond between them. He was proud of Lilly and enjoyed her thoughtful gentleness in their many conversations. His granddaughter Mary stayed with John frequently on her social trips to London – he would buy cupcakes from the Hummingbird Bakery on Portobello Road for her – and more recently he received comfort from her in her capacity as a medical student. He was delighted that his grandson Henry is studying at Cambridge University and is continuing his sporting tradition – though sadly in football, not in rowing – and that Henry has taken up Scottish dancing as John did. He would love to know that his old dinner jacket and tails – made in 1952 – have been passed on to Henry, fit beautifully and will be worn with fond remembrance. John said to me recently about his four grandchildren that he could not have asked for more.
John Beveridge, who died recently aged 79, was one of the most successful and distinguished of Pauline oarsmen of his generation. He was also a successful rugby player for 2 years in the St. Paul’s School 1st XV; as well as a first class classics scholar who won a major scholarship in Classics to Jesus College Cambridge.
After Cambridge, rowing for Molesey BC, he won gold and bronze medals at the 1962 Commonwealth Games in Perth Australia.
In the 1950s St Paul’s School, as now, had many splendid masters. Not the least of these was JH Page (“Freddie Page”) who was President of the Boat Club. It was a time when St Paul’s rowing was always at or near the top. Coached by Freddie Page, Beveridge rowed in the St Paul’s VIII at Henley Royal Regatta in 1953, 1954 and 1955. The 1953 crew won the Princess Elizabeth Cup; the 1954 and 1955 crews lost only to the eventual winners.
For national service Freddie Page advised Beveridge to apply for the RAF, and arranged that he be posted to RAF Benson where the RAF rowing club was based. In those days successful service sports clubs were regarded as useful for recruiting; and national service men helped in achieving this. Thus it was that Beveridge rowed in excellent RAF crews in the Thames Cup at Henley in 1956 and 1957.
In 1956 Beveridge decided that when he arrived at Cambridge he would read Engineering rather than Classics, and so, with typical determination, during his national service he read on his own to take and pass the 3 science A levels required to allow him to begin reading engineering as soon as he arrived at Jesus College in Michaelmas 1957.
Once up at Jesus Beveridge soon made his mark on the river. He stroked Jesus to the head of the river in the Cambridge May Races and to win the Ladies’ Plate at Henley in 1958. 1959 marked his first of 3 appearances at 6 in the Cambridge Boat Race crew, but it was not until his third appearance, as President, accompanied by 2 other Pauline oarsmen that he was successful in defeating Oxford by over 4 lengths.
John Beveridge married Margaret Shelton in 1961 with whom he had four children.Subsequently with his second wife Diana Millett he lived in retirement at Henley where for 7 years he was Hon. Secretary of Leander Club and played a strong part in its re-development, helping it to become the most successful sports club in any sport in the world.
John Beveridge. Born 22nd September 1936, died 12th April 2016; is survived by his wife Diana, and 4 children, Fiona, Rachel, Justin, and Hallam.
Alan Cameron died last July in New York aged 79, of pneumonia following an operation. Two years ago, he had been as active as ever, but a year later was diagnosed with MND. He was one of the most distinguished classical scholars of his time, the author of ten books and many articles, always original and discussing important topics.
My earliest memories of Alan go back to the day in autumn 1946 when we both started at Colet Court, then in West Kensington. To get there, from Egham, Alan had to spend serious travelling time, while it was my local school. Our first teacher was a Miss Welch, a native French speaker, who (she insisted) was the grand-daughter of a man who fought at the battle of Waterloo. an early chronological challenge for Alan who was to become such a great re-dater of classical authors and texts. We spent ten years from 1946-56 in the same sequence of classes, starting Latin when we were eight and Greek when we were eleven. By fourteen we had given up all other subjects, except for a very little Ancient History, to concentrate properly on translating in and out of Greek and Latin, in prose and verse, which we accepted as our destiny. In my memory at least, we were not in these early days great successes in these dark arts; particularly not, from 1947 when we acquired an amiable if somewhat taciturn classmate called Martin West, who left little room at the top of any class, until he was finally promoted a year ahead of us..
Up to age sixteen or so, nobody would have thought of Alan as a great intellectual force, except just possibly when playing bridge. But then there was a metamorphosis: his marks floated up and up into the stratosphere and stayed there for good. Another boy’s triumph one might have envied, but it was just impossible not to rejoice for and with Alan. After his time at St Paul’s, he read Greats at New College, Oxford, getting a double first and (remarkably) a Lectureship at Glasgow University before he even had the degree. He also skipped the normal PhD and went straight into producing his first book in 1970. He worked in London University from 1964 to 1977, becoming Professor of Latin at King’s College London, at thirty-six. In these years he was married to a fellow scholar, Averil Dees (now Professor Dame Averil Cameron) with whom he had two children Daniel (another Old Pauline) and Sophie, whose baby son Silas he was just in time to meet last year. The marriage with Averil broke up in the seventies and in 1977 Alan took the Latin Chair at Columbia University, New York, where he lived from that time on, productive as ever.
His academic research covered a strikingly wide area, both Greek and Latin, literary and historical, from the third century BCE till the fifth CE, all taken very seriously by specialists in many different subject-areas. His books ranged from Greek poetry, through circus racing in Rome, to the history of religious conflict; but his most constant concern was with the writings of the later Roman Empire, where he was one of the pioneers of working on what had been a neglected period. Among many honours and awards, he was elected Fellow of the British Academy in 1975 and won their Kenyon Medal in 2013.
In character, Alan was something of a paradox: to meet, he was the most relaxed and friendly of men, with catholic tastes, including baseball, opera at the Met and romantic movies, and ready for any new experience and new friends; but in his publications, he was seriously combative — destroying misguided arguments with relish and fiercely rebutting critics of his works down till his last few weeks. His last years, in retirement in New York, were much enriched and supported by his wife since 1998, Carla Asher, who survives him.
Written by: John North (1951-56)
A tribute to Alan Cameron, delivered at an event in his memory, at the Institute of Classical Studies, University of London.
It is a great privilege to speak about Alan Cameron this afternoon, sad though it is that he isn’t with us to answer back, as he would have done in the past; it is not difficult to find things to say about him: he was on anybody’s view, a major influence on the subjects that interested him and endlessly productive of books and articles, of striking originality over a very impressive range of subjects. To me, he was a great friend for 70 years, which is a long time not to have had a quarrel.
On the subject of his productivity, I remember years ago asking him about some topic (I have completely forgotten what). ‘I think’ (he said) ‘I once wrote a paper about that’. He went to the desk opened a deep drawer, sifted through the contents, endless unpublished but fully prepared papers. Finally, out came the one he was looking for. The story illustrates: first, Alan’s amiable concern to be helpful; secondly, his rich and seemingly careless academic productivity; thirdly, a certain kind of modesty. With anybody else, you might think there was at least some element of showing off in this story, but Alan didn’t really do showing off. He didn’t need to.
I had met him first in September 1946 – both of us New Boys at the St Paul’s prep school, Colet Court, not even knowing any Latin — despite being fully eight years old. We were in the same succession of classes together for ten years. We received together an education, if that’s quite the word for it, consisting almost entirely of translating in and out of Greek and Latin. We both finished up in Oxford, but had not much to do with one another there, because Alan did his National Service or rather started it, before being diagnosed with Osgood Schlatter’s disease and discharged — to his fury because he’d been enjoying life in the Army and he was now denied it. I went straight from School to Oxford, so he was a year behind.
His academic career started with the offer of a job in the Glasgow Classics Department made (I believe) before he’d taken his degree (not quite so unusual as it would be today, but still remarkable). He then omitted such formalities as a getting a PhD, and of course needed no supervisor. There is nice story he tells somewhere of going to consult ‘Tom Brown’ Stevens, the gifted but erratic and not invariably sober Ancient History Don of Magdalen: Alan asked him whether he should start research on the poet Claudian. Tom Brown strongly advised him to think of something else. Alan characteristically went on with his Claudian. All the same, he did get some very distinguished helpers later on, such as Arnaldo Momigliano who gave him a helping hand with publication; and Louis Robert, who gave him access to the dossier of inscriptions which led to his second book – Porphyrius the charioteer.
The choice of, or rather insistence on, Claudian, was making points that have a good deal of validity through all his writings: first, he was always very insistent that the study of literature had always to be integrated with the study of history; even more significantly, perhaps he was one of those who drew ancient historians’ attention away from their familiar preoccupations and towards the later Empire. That implied tackling the significance of the rise of Christianity, and especially the impact on individuals of the new religious situation. These issues remained a central theme in Alan’s work, but at no point did he allow himself to be limited to the Late Antique. Finally, by his choice of Claudian, he was asserting the inseparability of Greek and Latin culture from one another. Claudian was a Greek who wrote in Latin. Alan was able to do what few can — move comfortably from one language and culture to the other.
While it is certainly true that he saw literature and history as intimately linked, the fact is that his work was usually driven by the literary authors he was most interested in: Claudian as a starter; Callimachus in mid-career; Macrobius, Servius and the other Virgil-commentators; the poets of the collections of epigrams (the Greek Anthology, which we did first meet in St Paul’s); Synesius in the book on Barbarians and Politics.
To follow his career for a moment, after his time at Glasgow he became a Lecturer and then a Reader in Bedford College, (1964-1972), in the days when it was still rather elegantly housed in Regent’s Park and devoted to women students as it had been since its foundation. From 1972-1977 he held the Chair of Latin at King’s College London. He was elected a Fellow of the British Academy in 1975. He went to Columbia University in New York as Charles Anthon Professor in 1977. All this when he was not yet forty and was to spend the second half of his life in New York, to which he grew very attached and from which he published another six or so books.
He occasionally spelled out in their rather chatty prologues, that his books became what they are because he just started the ball rolling, with limited ambitions or plans, but then the book itself ‘just grow’d’ (like Topsy): In some cases, that account seems entirely convincing e.g. ‘Greek Mythography’ and perhaps the larger Callimachus; but I can’t believe that the Last Pagans ‘just growed’, There were many delays when he seemed to abandon his Pagans, many distractions on the way, and a struggle to produce the book in the end..
There is no ducking the fact that Alan was very polemical in an academic context – very good at put-downs. One of many contradictions about him: there was no sign of this aggression in normal life, in which he was as mild and amiable as anyone could be. It might be fairer to say that the right word would be adversarial – rather than polemical, He had a rhetorical trope, which began: ‘Prof X argues for proposition Y; but there is a small problem here’: very mildly expressed to start with, but then it turns out that the small problem grows and grows till the whole theory falls to pieces under successive hammer-blows.
This brings us back to the 850 odd pages of the Last Pagans (2012)
On any reckoning, Last Pagans is destined to be a talking point for many years to come: in fact, it already has whole books of discussion devoted to it; it is extraordinarily well-informed; it argues very forcefully for a specific thesis and takes a highly controversial view of the religious attitudes (I have selected that word rather carefully) of the Roman pagan aristocrats in the fourth century CE. It consists of the usual Cameron rhetorical trope writ very large: the whole is attacking one view of pagan resistance, originally put forward in the 1940s. I do think it comprehensively destroys this view, but leaves open the question of where the subject should go next. The arguments it contains about various texts (such as Macrobius’ Saturnalia and the Carmen contra paganos), will need to be reexamined in their own right. Last Pagans is a massive achievement and will remain so no matter what the conclusions may be about its individual arguments.
Alan was extraordinarily efficient in the production of books and articles yet notoriously erratic as an administrator. He did what he wanted to and never seemed to mind not having done what he should have done — or what others thought he should have done. He was totally without pomposity or side.. A rich variety of activities made him happy: Opera at the Met; wrestling on the television (well that once strangely popular form of tele-entertainment, called wrestling, but more akin to a drama); sentimental movies; baseball; tennis and so on. His capacity for enjoyment of so many kinds is just one of the features of his character that makes it so difficult to accept that he has really gone. I shall miss him as a good friend and great intellectual force. John North
Alan Cameron’s Books
• Claudian: Poetry and Propaganda at the Court of Honorius (1970)
• Porphyrius the Charioteer (1973)
• Circus Factions: Blues and Greens at Rome and Byzantium (1976)
• Barbarians and Politics at the Court of Arcadius (May 1992) (with Jacqueline Long and Lee Sherry)
• The Greek Anthology: From Meleager to Planudes (1993)
• Callimachus and his Critics (1995)
• Greek Mythography in the Roman World (2004) (reviewed by T P Wiseman in the Times Literary Supplement, 13 May 2005 page 29)
• The Last Pagans of Rome (2011) (reviewed by Peter Brown in the New York Review of Books, 7 April 2011)
• Wandering Poets and Other Essays in Late Antique Poetry and Philosophy (2015).
Chris was born in Birmingham in 1937. His mother was a Londoner, his father Freddie a geography teacher came from Derbyshire. In 1950 Freddie was appointed Head of a school in Staines and the family moved south. Chris won a place at St. Paul’s and so began an exciting and stimulating time for him, travelling daily across London. He became a scholar always treasuring his silver fish. He especially enjoyed the school’s music, theatre and debating society, playing the violin in the orchestra and taking an active role in the Scouts.
University and engineering beckoned ; having won an exhibition to Imperial College he turned down a place at Cambridge. After gaining full membership of the Institution of Civil Engineers his uncle, already a leading water engineer, encouraged him to specialise so he returned to Imperial College to study Hydrology. For the first time River Authorities had to appoint hydrologists, so Chris took up his new role in Kent in 1963.
For the next 20 years he masterminded demand forecasting, tidal and river floods and defences, advising farmers and industries and predicting the need for new reservoirs. With larger Water Authorities being planned he trained in management techniques, becoming the Assistant Director of Resource Planning at the newly created Southern Water authority, covering Kent, Sussex, Hampshire and the Isle of Wight. His experience and temperament made him the ideal person to guide his enthusiastic young staff.
For the final 15 years of his working life he became an independent Water Consultant, working in Thailand, Burma, China, Cyprus and Samoa, all wonderful experiences living among and learning from other peoples and cultures.
Throughout his life he took great interest in community matters, chairing the local National Trust committee for 20 years . He found an outlet for his love of history and old buildings by guiding at Lancing Chapel and leading a NADFAS team recording the local parish church. Chris never stopped solving practical or cerebral problems. He built a swimming pool with a spade, giving 30 years of joy to his family. He loved caravanning, enjoying an annual reunion with O.P s RJ Winkworth and L. Webber. He especially valued joining the Luncheon for the Oldest Leavers at school a couple of years ago. He constantly reminded one of how proud he was to be an O.P. He played golf all his life and took up skiing seriously in middle age; he enjoyed tennis ( on his own court) and dabbled in yoga. He gardened passionately, controlling the vegetable patch as his own.
Only in his last year were his activities reduced as he succumbed to Pulmonary Thrombosis. He remained brave and philosophical, savouring every moment with his family and friends. The Macmillan team helped him to remain at home where he passed away peacefully on 22nd March, surrounded by his wife Heather ( married 57years), daughters Alison and Sarah and son Christian. He leaves six grandchildren.
David was born in Liverpool and spent the war years in North Wales. He then attended St Paul’s and boxed for the school. He was ever the gentleman when he boxed (as seen in the attached report from one of the masters). He also played rugby and was later selected to play for Surrey County. He always spoke very fondly of his time at St Paul’s. He was contemporary with Jonathan Miller and Oliver Sacks.
As a committed Quaker and Pacifist he became a hospital porter rather than do his National Service. This experience led him to choose to study Medicine at Christ’s College, Cambridge. Whilst a student, David ventured to Moscow, with other Quakers, courageously breaking through the Iron Curtain in order to establish links with young Russians. After graduating he worked at the Middlesex Hospital, where he met nurse, Eleanor Woolley, daughter of the President of the NFU, Lord Woolley. He married Eleanor in 1961 and they worked at Clatterbridge Hospital on the Wirral. Then David took up General Practice in West Kirby. They had three children. David was a much loved GP. He was involved in research into epilepsy and ran a pioneering clinic for drug addicts. He also spearheaded the campaign to save Hoylake Cottage Hospital and to open St John’s Hospice. In 1990 he and Eleanor bought an eleven hundred acre farm on the slopes of Snowdon – Clogwyn y Gwin (Precipice of Wine). Eleanor farmed there alone until David retired and joined her. He swapped his stethoscope for shears and his clinics for pens. This was the happiest time of their lives as they farmed a thousand sheep and thirty cattle. David sang in Welsh in a local choir and attended Bangor Quaker Meeting. Sadly Eleanor died of breast cancer in 1999. David sold the farm in 2005 and moved to Cambridge to be near his son, James. Then he moved to The Isle of Mull in 2009 to be near his daughter. David had a wonderful time in Tobermory. He joined the Gaelic Choir and he and his daughter set up Mull and Iona Quaker Meeting. He made many friends on Mull and became much loved by the local community who cared for him as his Dementia developed. When he was diagnosed with malignant melanoma in 2016 he said “Good, it will be a kinder death than from Dementia”. Nursed by his daughter for the last year of his life, David died a peaceful death, in the local cottage hospital on the Isle of Mull in August 2017. He leaves behind him his children: Andrew, Katharine and. James and grandchildren: Grace, Hamish, Ben, Robert, Lauren, William and Daisy.
My brother, Ronald Hayman, theatre director, writer and critic, died 20 January 2019. Known as Ronnie to family and friends, he was born in Bournemouth in 1932 and, as a child, lived in East Cliff Court, the Jewish hotel founded by our grandmother. This period is described in Secrets: Boyhood in a Jewish Hotel, Ronnie’s 1985 memoir, which also contains vignettes of his time at St Paul’s. Contemporaries will recall the physics master C.N. (‘Bo’) Langham (‘Mr Hampton’ in the book), with his list of ‘Avoidable Errors’. For making any of these you received one stroke of the cane. This was a distant era in which prefects could cane their juniors, and St Paul’s limited its intake of Jews to a quota. Yet, it was a golden age for the History Eighth, with the charismatic P.D.Whitting (‘Mr Harding’) as Head of History, determined that all his students should go to Oxford or Cambridge. F.G.S.Parker (‘Mr Fletcher’), taught French and German, re-iterating his slogan of ‘Efficiency, gentlemen!’. His system of ‘mnemonic cards’ ensured that his students carried in their pockets the means of revising their lessons in any spare moment.
Ronnie joined St Paul’s soon after the School returned to the Hammersmith Road building it had vacated during the Second World War. He had gained one of the one hundred and fifty-three Foundation Scholarships. He became editor of The Debater and started a literary society, for which he persuaded Harold Nicolson to give a talk. He won an open scholarship to Trinity Hall, Cambridge, with the intention of reading law. However, while still at the School, he decided he wanted to be a writer and obtained permission to read English instead. It was also in the later part of his stay at St Paul’s that he changed his mind about religion, and stopped practising Judaism.
Ronnie left St Paul’s in 1950 and did National Service in the RAF, before going to Cambridge. He then lived in Germany for a couple of years, spending some of the time in the Western Sector of a divided Berlin, and managing to interview Brecht. On returning to England, he settled in London, progressing from St George’s Square, Victoria, via Regent’s Park Road, to Church Row, Hampstead. He passed his final years in Highgate, occupying a penthouse flat with an extensive view of the city where he had spent his working life.
On returning from Germany, Ronnie acted in repertory companies, then took to directing, including An Evening with GBS, a one-man show with Max Adrian, which had a successful London run and world-tour in the nineteen-sixties. Ronnie’s 1977 production of Troilus and Cressida at the Roundhouse had men taking the female roles and vice versa, before gender reversal became common in theatre productions.
He wrote slim volumes on playwrights and the theatre. Later he wrote over fifteen fat biographies, including Sartre, Proust, Nietzsche and Jung. He contributed regular articles to The Times, where an obituary with far more details of his career has been published (2 March). He took part in Radio 3’s Critics’ Forum, which he chaired on occasion. He turned his pen to comedy for a radio series, Such Rotten Luck, starring Tim Piggot-Smith and Zoe Wanamaker. Ronnie’s drama about Strindberg Playing the Wife was performed in Chichester in 1995, with Derek Jacobi, and was later revived in Richmond-upon-Thames.
Ronnie’s marriage ended in divorce. He is survived by his two daughters, Imogen and Sorrel, to both of whom Secrets is dedicated. He is also survived by his ex-wife, Monica Lorimer (Imogen’s mother) and Sorrel’s mother, Sue Trenchard.
William B (Bruce) G Hopkins (1948-51), 1934 – 2016
Born in Ealing in 1934 my father was raised in Kingsbury, North London along with his elder sister Dera who survives him. At the start of the Second World War he was evacuated to Family away from London, but due to illness of those looking after him he returned to the family home in Kingsbury in 1940. As he said himself he returned “just in time for the Blitz”, but there is no doubt that period influenced his future career path. As a 6-year-old boy he spoke of watching the Few who fought the Battle of Britain spiralling in dogfights and contrails overhead, and he dreamt of being a fighter pilot one day.
Educated at St Paul’s School for Boys where gained his School Certificate, his passion as a lad was swimming where he excelled. His circle of friends centred on the Kingsbury Baths, friendships that he renewed only a few years ago with a reunion at the family house here in North Walsham.
In February 1952 (before his 18th birthday) he started on the path he had dreamt of, and entered the Royal Air Force for officer and flying training, receiving his Commission and earning his Wings in March 1953. From then on he realised his dream, achieving combat ready status on the Venom and serving on that, and other fighter aircraft, in Germany and the UK through the 50s. This dashing young fighter pilot then met my mother during an operational deployment to Cyprus, swept her off her feet and they married in 1959. And they were to be a great Team during the rest of his career.
In the early 60s he was assigned to the Air Fighter Development Squadron just up the road from here at RAF Coltishall, and he was closely involved in the evaluation and introduction into service of the Lightning, the first single-seat high-performance, supersonic, radar-equipped fighter to enter service in the RAF. In 1967 we moved as a family to the USA where my brother was born. This time he was again at the leading edge of the introduction into service of a new aircraft, the McDonnell Douglas Phantom F4. For 2 years he flew with the US Navy in St Louis, Missouri conducting experimental and production test flying on both US and British aircraft.
In 1972 he was given command of 23 Fighter Squadron equipped with the Lightning Mk6, the final development of an aircraft he had helped bring into Service and then at the forefront of the Cold War flying Quick Reaction Alert from RAF Leuchars in Scotland – fighters ready at 2 minutes notice to intercept probing Soviet bombers. He led the Squadron for 3 years and this was truly the pinnacle of his operational career as a fighter pilot; he was recognised by the award of the Air Force Cross for his command and leadership skills, which was bestowed on him by HM The Queen. He then commanded RAF Wattisham in Suffolk for 2 years at the end of the 1970s and the picture of him in your Order of Service was taken in 1978 as he assumed command of that station. Again this was a unit at the forefront of the Cold War, with 2 squadrons flying the Phantom F4 on Quick Reaction Alert. I suspect he saw this as the crowning moment in his career, having achieved far more than he had hoped for as a cadet in 1952.
After a few more staff tours, one at the Supreme Headquarters in Belgium, he elected to leave the Service in 1986. He was never prepared to play the political games needed to achieve the very highest ranks in the Service – he merely believed in being the best you could possibly be professionally in your chosen walk of life. He had served in uniform for 34 years, made a great many friends, flown over 3800 flying hours on 16 different types of aircraft (mostly fighters) and had inspired another little boy (me) as to his future career. Huge achievement and a strong, but not overbearing, sense of duty characterised his RAF service, and I know he was immensely proud of what he had achieved. These traits were to be evident too in his retirement, but what did others think of him? An Army Major General for whom he worked in Belgium wrote recently “I had a great respect for Bruce’s professionalism, and also his light and sympathetic touch, which made him such a valuable colleague”.
Life after the RAF was 7 years in Kent working for GEC Avionics in Rochester in Business Development, living in Maidstone. But just as he was turning 60 he decided to retire to Norfolk for good.
Unwilling to just relax his sense of duty came to the fore again – he wanted to give something back having considered himself very fortunate in his own life. So for his first 5 years of ‘relaxation’ he was Secretary (a voluntary post 3 mornings a week) of the Norfolk Branch of SSAFA, the oldest of the Armed Forces Charities that provide welfare to those in need, and he played golf for the other 2 mornings. From 1999-2013 he was the Secretary and Welfare Officer for the North Walsham Branch of RAFA (the Royal Air Force Association), another charitable organization delivering welfare to those in need. He was on the Committee and Captain for 1 year of the Veterans Section of the Royal Cromer Golf Club. He was on the Committee and Chairman for a period of the North Walsham Community Centre. And last, but not least, he was Chairman of the Aylsham Bridge Club. Golf and Bridge were his passions, but he was prepared to give back in amongst those and not just enjoy.
Again I turn to comments made in notes of sympathy to my mother: A truly charming gentlemen, modest though of such achievement. The Section owed a lot to Bruce for taking up the reins so quickly (after the next Captain became unwell) and without any fuss. That was typical of his attitude in that he would never let anyone down. He worked so hard for RAFA and helped so many people during difficult times. The Bridge Clubs at Aylsham, North Walsham, and Hoveton were so appreciative of his skill and gentlemanly manner. One remarked that he was the most intelligent, distinguished Chairman Aylsham had ever had.
He was a determined man in anything he did and would not quit easily. On a family holiday in Western France in the early 80s he bought a windsurf board. For one day he relentlessly tried to get sailing without success and at the end his hands were rubbed raw. The next day he was back at it, determined to succeed but this time sporting a pair of pink marigolds to protect his hands – ingenious and a style all of his own. On a family holiday in Menorca we all went donkey riding as a big group. My mother had great difficulty getting on her mount to much hilarity of all including the Spanish owner. My father was not going to make such a fool of himself and took a run-up, mounting his ride in one movement in the style of Audey Murphy. The donkey looked most surprised!
What of the family man? He would say that he never really enjoyed his own childhood, and his mother was very ill for a lot of it. But he loved his subsequent family life and relished large gatherings, particularly with the Grandchildren. Although not necessarily a demonstrative person, he was proud and loving of his family, particularly my mother. He would often remark at family get-togethers, much to the annoyance of my mother “I wonder what the poor people are doing”. This was not a comment on the poor and possessions, but merely that he felt rich and lucky in life.
He was a kind man but he believed in children achieving success through their own abilities and not through being given a bye in life. Indeed, I remember as a 12-year-old playing squash with him – he never let me win unless I deserved it. Wind on 40 years and on their Golden Wedding Anniversary family week in Spain he played snooker throughout the week to win with his grandson Alexander – Alex did triumph eventually though.
In his last few years he was troubled by health issues, which no doubt frustrated an ex-fighter pilot who was used to being in control. In particular, he suffered for 7 years with trigeminal neuralgia, which is a most painful condition, and arthritis of the spine in the latter few years. Throughout, such was the man that he remained stoical and uncomplaining to the end.
So in sum his was a life of success and achievement. He was a determined gentleman with a sense of duty and a desire to give something back, but also a loving and kind, husband, father and grandfather.
The Very Reverend Dr Robert Jeffery (1948-53), 1935-2016
Obituary by Canon Dr Daniel O’Connor (2017) – friends with Bob Jeffery since their ordination in the Durham Diocese in the 1950s
Preparations for an event as significant as a Lambeth Conference are a complex affair needing much of the preceding decade to put together. In the case of the 1968 conference, however, the saintly and scholarly Archbishop of Canterbury, Michael Ramsey, his mind on higher things, had forgotten that it was coming up. It was only when the secretary of the Church’s Missionary and Ecumenical Council, the gifted but under-acknowledged David Paton reminded the Archbishop, that. with less than three years to go, things began to happen. The first of these was that Paton turned to his new assistant secretary, Bob Jeffery, fresh from his second curacy, to start work on the agenda. To Bob, that was “a magic day” for a young man, to be given such responsibility – including in time the preparation of the 38 sub-group themes to which the Lambeth fathers would turn their attention.
The Very Reverend Robert Martin Colquhoun Jeffery was born at Uxbridge on 30th April 1935, son of Norman and Gwennyth Jeffery. His father worked in the Inland Revenue and was a leader in the Scout Movement. Bob attended the Prebendal School, Chichester (where George Bell confirmed him), then St Paul’s School, Kensington (where the chaplain, Christopher Heath, sowed early seeds regarding ordination). After National Service in the R.A.F., he studied for a BD and the AKC qualification at King’s College, London, with a final year’s preparation for ordination at St Boniface College, Warminster.
Jeffery was ordained deacon at Durham in 1959, priest in 1960, served his title in Sunderland and went to a second curacy with Heath, now at Barnes. At this time he became an associate of the Society of St John the Evangelist, the ‘Cowley Fathers’, supporting their work in UK and the USA thereafter. In 1964, he was appointed assistant to David Paton at ‘M.E.C.C.A.’ as it was then known, and was soon plunged into his work for Lambeth 1968. Ruth Tinling was a colleague on the Council staff – they married in 1968. Subsequently, he was Secretary for Mission and Unity at the British Council of Churches. These two appointments early in his career brought many opportunities to think boldly, write widely, and, more significantly, broadened his knowledge of the churches in Britain, and their leading personalities. This last was a particular gift, so that over time he became known, not least to senior church appointments secretaries, as a master of the grapevine, shrewd and unsentimental in his judgement.
After seven years as Vicar of St Andrew’s, Headington, Oxford, and father now of four children, he was appointed by the radical, Kenneth Skelton, Bishop of Lichfield as his Diocesan Missioner. He went on from that to be one of Skelton’s archdeacons (of Salop). Throughout these two jobs, he was also Vicar of Tong in Shropshire, this leading later to his wonderfully readable and often hilarious Discovering Tong (2007). From 1987 to 1996, Jeffery was Dean of Worcester. The cathedral had already entered on a major restoration programme costing many millions, and Jeffery, working with the canons of the chapter, stonemasons and fundraising laity, saw this through. Despite the demands of the restoration, he found time to publish in 1994 Anima Christi: Reflections on Praying with Christ. A deep shadow fell over his last year at Worcester with the sudden death of Ruth. He was fortunate to be able to move to be Sub-Dean and Canon of Christ Church, Oxford, a post that suited him well and helped him, if anything could, in his loss. At Christ Church, he was a wise but lively guardian of the cathedral’s liturgy, also of the high table’s menu, and himself a generous entertainer. No one better informed, he enjoyed identifying candidates for Christ Church’s many parishes and arranging the clergy’s annual summer school. At this time, in 1999, he was awarded a DD by the University of Birmingham. His appointments, to Worcester then Oxford, and a sabbatical tour of Anglican Communion cathedrals, equipped him for his popular training sessions (with John Rogan) for English cathedral staff.
On retirement in 2002, Bob stayed in Oxford, where he developed a particular and unstintingly caring ministry, to the elderly and their families. He was also warmly hospitable, loving to cook for his many guests and to share his incomparable knowledge of the Church of England. This last made him a wonderful conversationalist, watchful over movements in the Church, with a keen eye for nonsense, and for character. He also completed a new translation of The Imitation of Christ (Penguin 2013), wrote innumerable fine obituaries for leading newspapers, and, so long as his own health allowed, went off to preach at funerals and festivities throughout the country and to visit his exceptionally wide circle of friends.
Bob Jeffery was a model Anglican clergyman, with a pastoral heart, an ever-developing spirituality, a broad and liberal theology, and gifts as both preacher and writer – never letting these obstruct his parental concerns, for he was a loving and proud father to his gifted family, Graham, Hilary, Philippa and Charlie, and their children. He will be sorely missed by them and by his many friends.
Peter Alexander Mawer was born in Putney on the 19 April 1941 and lived there for most of his life. He attended Willington School in Putney and in later years became a governor of the school. He went to St Paul’s in 1954 and departed three years later to attend the College of Estate Management in Kensington to qualify as a Chartered Auctioneer, Estate Agent and subsequently as a Chartered Surveyor. He then joined his lifelong friend and fellow OP David Cons in the Estates Department of the Legal and General Assurance Society in Aldwych and then the City.
He moved on in the mid-sixties to Montague Evans to do valuation and professional work where he became an Associate partner. Peter’s father was an Estate Agent in Putney and when he died suddenly in 1980, Peter left Montague Evans to take over his late father’s practice.
Peter was a rower at school and joined Vesta Rowing Club in 1959 whose boathouse is on Putney Embankment. He subsequently became a Life Vice President. For a number of years he was an official at the annual Head of the River regatta.
Peter married Lesley and whilst Peter had no children, Lesley had a son and daughter and grandchildren who bought love and laughter into his life and home.
Peter’s great interests were in music particularly Jazz and the Arts. He had a wide circle of friends including a number from School and was an authority on theatre, ballet and films. He enjoyed his life and walked the towpath from his home most days, as well as practicing Pilates and yoga. Peter and Lesley also gave wonderful parties at their house to watch the start of the Oxford and Cambridge University Boat Race each year.
He was diagnosed with Lymphoma cancer last July and after several months of painful treatment, he died peacefully earlier this year.
He will be sadly missed by Lesley, his step children and his many friends.
David died peacefully at home, a year after deciding to discontinue chemotherapy for his metastatic bowel cancer. His father was London manager of a Scottish canvas-making company and after wartime evacuation from the Essex coast to Hertfordshire he later moved his family to Twickenham so that his son could more easily attend St Paul’s School. Here, David excelled at Mathematics, Physics and Chemistry but was always a practical rather than theoretical scientist. His hobby as a youngster was tinkering with wireless and he later enjoyed the maintenance and repair of his BSA motorbike. After leaving St Paul’s, he did his National Service with the Royal Signals and then was a Scholar at Corpus Christi College Cambridge. He was awarded a first class degree in Mechanical Sciences with Part II in Electrical Engineering.
After graduating, he joined Decca Radar as a design engineer and stayed with the company until his retirement. His Cambridge course included work with the then new semi-conductor devices and so he was well placed to introduce the use of transistors to replace valves in marine radar and airborne navigation equipment. He was particularly involved with the design of the airborne Doppler 70 which was installed in many fixed and rotary winged aircraft for both civil and military use. These included the Buccaneer, TSR2, Lynx, Sea Harrier and Tornado. He was proud that Decca were given the Queen’s Award for both technical innovation and for outstanding export achievement. Later in his career he was appointed Quality Manager for what was now Racal Avionics, responsible for the quality assurance of all projects both in development and in production -a position well suited to his meticulous attention to detail.
In his retirement, David gave a lot of time to his hobby of model engineering, building passenger-hauling locomotives which he ran at the Guildford Model Engineering Society of which he was a long-standing and active member. He married Shirley Smith of Girton College Cambridge and they had three children and four grandchildren. They greatly enjoyed walking holidays in Switzerland, Shirley studying the flowers and David appreciating the efficiency of the Swiss transport system and the amazing feats of railway engineering while both loved the wonderful scenery.
My husband always spoke fondly of his childhood and teenage years at his family home at Broom Water, Teddington. The youngest of 3 children, he went to school at the Mall and then at St. Paul’s School. His father died when Clive was sixteen and Clive left school to begin an apprenticeship in electrical engineering. Old cars and car repair became his teenage passion. His first car was a 3wheeler Morgan, which he restored in front of his family home. Broom Water soon became a gathering place for likeminded youngsters from which life-long friendships sprung. Quoting a friend: “…so many early memories of parties, pubs, motor racing and crazy driving…” Many of his early friends remember especially the parties. At the age of 15 he and a 14year old friend hitch-hiked to Spain together. His friend quotes “times were different then. We had a small tent and a primus stove and not much money. I remember sleeping one night in a farmer’s barn. For sustenance we had helped ourselves to what we thought was corn on the cob in a field but it was cattle feed, too hard even after long boiling.”
His apprenticeship broken off, he worked in a pub for a while and then took a job in a city firm for some years until his brother, who worked in Milan at the time, encouraged him to look for opportunities abroad and learn another language. Milan is where I entered his life. We met in 1968 at a social club where young people of different nationalities gathered. Clive had by then studied Italian at Perugia and taught English, but recently taken on an agency for an American firm who worked with Italian companies specialising in colour separation for quality fine art reproductions. After 3 years he was sent to Japan, to explore further business opportunities. I joined him soon after and we travelled in Japan, then around the globe together. We got married in Reno, Nevada, on the way to New York. Back in Italy, we had our first baby, a son, but he was born with a heart defect and died aged 3 month. Within the year we had another baby, a son again, who helped to lighten our grief.
In 1975 changing work circumstances led us to look for a new direction in life. Having both read “Self Sufficiency” by John Seymour we decided to leave Italy and practise a sustainable, largely organic way of life in West Wales, where Clive had spent summer holidays in his childhood. The smallholding we bought and settled on, Ffosyffin, became our home for the rest of our lives. Within 3 years we had another son and daughter and built up a small Jersey herd to sell milk and make cheese and butter for us. We joined the Organic Movement and went to meetings and farm walks with likeminded people. Clive approached his new tasks methodically, buying a tractor and all necessary farm implements at auctions, fertilising and rotating crops. He sowed oats, barley and wheat. He reaped the oats with a binder and I baked bread for us from the wheat. One summer was so wet that our hay rotted in the field and the oats sprouted in the stooks. Despite the struggle and setbacks, we later looked back on those times with nostalgia. We had many good neighbours and friends helped with the haymaking. The children had a wonderful, memorable childhood.
After 8 years of farming we had an opportunity to go on a long-needed holiday. A group of people offered to take on the running of the farm while we went travelling. Leaving on a cold wet day in March the whole family headed for Portugal in an old camper van. We camped by the sea wherever life was cheap and let the sun restore our health after a particularly bad winter in Wales. The children had lessons from us in the mornings and we explored our surroundings in the afternoons. Motoring back in the summer via Spain and Italy – visiting friends on the way – we remained with my parents in Bavaria for a while. When we came back to our little farm at the end of August, Clive declared “I never want to milk a cow again for the rest of my life”.
Instead he started a small business. Metal work was his forte and he began to make small goods and livestock trailers. He also fitted towbars. We named it DIY Trailers. The shed where we had reared calves and kept a breeding sow was turned into a storeroom and workshop for trailer parts and accessories, sheet aluminium and stainless steel, and soon reverberated with the sound of hammering, cutting, drilling and welding. He traded at local farmers markets and agricultural shows and became known as “Clive trailers” and I was “Mrs. DIY”. In order to be competitive, Clive had to keep prices low. We never made much money but we got by and I took on jobs, too. Clive ran the business for 25 years and became known for his fair dealings with customers. He had a winning way with some of the old members of the local farming community, “the old boys” as he called them, to draw them into a chat, and he took on a local lad as an apprentice. Farmers bought his trailer kits for their son’s school projects.
During his business years Clive took up dinghy sailing in Cardigan Bay and participated in weekly competitions in the summer. He would always smile when he was in a boat, a long cherished dream come true. In the late nineties and with the help of the internet, family history research became his next pastime. He joined the local Family History branch and took an active part in its running. While researching his own family tree, he found long-lost relatives in America, Canada and New Zealand and organised a big family reunion in England, after which he remained in touch with them until the end of his life. He took a keen interest in politics and joined the local branch of the Liberal Party in his later life. In the 12 years of his retirement he was never in want of something to do. He could mend almost anything that broke and never threw anything away which he deemed useful. In his later years he made simple and beautiful items of wood as gifts for the children.
The children and I will always cherish the memory of Clive for the gentle man he was, his sense of humour and especially his smile. He was a loving husband and father and proud of his family. He was also a truly self-made man who lived firmly by his principles, which he also passed on to his children. His death on February 5 last year aged 75 was unexpected. His final resting place is close by in a beautiful spot in the woodland we planted together.
John Riddy has gone. It is difficult to believe because he was a true eccentric of Falstaffian
proportion who seemed indestructible. He made his mark as a bibliophile, a book collector, and built a private library on eighteenth and nineteenth century history of India. At one time his British India collection based on a large section of the old Bombay Yacht Club’s library was the largest of its kind in private hands. He scoured second-hand bookshops wherever he happened to be in order to enhance his collection.
By profession he became a university administrator. He was educated at St Paul’s School where among his brilliant classmates were Jonathan Miller, Kenneth Baker, Oliver Sacks and Eric Korn. He won a history scholarship to Hertford College, Oxford, but before going up to university he joined that select band of extremely gifted linguists who were taught Russian on National Service. He was taken into the RAF and once qualified spent most of his service in 1953 and1954 on flying patrols over the North Sea monitoring and translating transmissions from Russian spy trawlers.
He was taught at Hertford College by the historians Felix Markham and John Armstrong. They reckoned him to be the cleverest and most quixotic of their students. Immediately after graduating, he went to India and worked for three years as a factor in Bombay.
In 1961 he returned to Oxford University and became an assistant registrar. From there in 1965 with his wife, Felicity Maidment, he went to the Ahmadu Bello University in Nigeria as a Deputy Registrar. As one of the few remaining Europeans on the campus at the time of the 1966 Ibo massacres, he was forced to watch the atrocity, and was largely responsible for cleaning up the university grounds. After that traumatic experience they came back to the UK to take up positions at the new University of Stirling.
While acting as Vacation Lettings Controller he also taught some courses on Commonwealth literature. He retired early and his wife concentrated on her career which took them to the University of York. There John flourished. They lived in the village of Wilberfoss and he gave much of his time to book-collecting. From time to time he decided that his library was growing too large and would give a substantial part to the Borthwick Institute at York, but each time the collection quickly grew again.
He was a humorous, expansive, ebullient, generous, kind man. He could be outrageously Rabbelasian but an endearing, entertaining host, even though at times he would leave the dinner table, lie down on the floor and snooze for twenty minutes. He had a taste for Havana cigars and kept a filing cabinet of rare malt whiskies in his garage. He had no time for the glass half full or half empty philosophy; for him the glass was always full. He made sure that his guests followed his beliefs; a sip or two and the glass was immediately replenished to the brim. In his later years he took to collecting eighteenth century prints of country houses and cartoons by the great satirists. Occasionally he would tire of a picture or two and take them to his ‘lady in Pocklington’ who would buy them for resale in her jumble and curiosity shop. Some seven or eight weeks later he was known to return to her shop and try to buy them back again not remembering that he had previously sold them to her.
Regrettably he never published a book on British India but gave lectures and wrote articles which illuminated various aspects of Indian history mostly to do with the Mutiny and its aftermath. He was one of the last in the long tradition of gentleman scholars, learned, eloquent in style and diction, and captivating in the telling of historical anecdotes.
John Charles Philip Riddy was born on 21st June, 1934 and died at home on 29th April, 2017.
Born in Twickenham in February 1934, the only child of Ernest and Elizabeth Toms, Geoffrey was educated at the Mall prep school before winning a scholarship to St Paul’s School, which he joined in the Remove.
During his five years at the school, Geoffrey became a prefect and captain of his house, and participated in cricket and boxing, winning his second colours.
Geoffrey made many life-long friends at St Paul’s, 10 of whom still meet up for an annual reunion in November every year, an event that Geoffrey very much looked forward to. He was very pleased to have managed to attend the gathering in 2017 and enjoyed every moment.
In 1953, Geoffrey went up to Downing College, Cambridge, with an exhibition to read classics with classical archaeology. He spent three happy years there, gaining both a degree and a fiancée – in the form of Barbara, who was studying at the nearby Homerton Teachers’ Training College.
Two years of National Service as a lieutenant in the Royal Signals followed, after which, now married to Barbara, Geoffrey undertook a year-long diploma in education at Oxford University, also receiving his MA from Cambridge in the same year.
In 1959, Geoffrey and Barbara moved to the Wirral, where Geoffrey had secured a position as assistant master in the classics department at Birkenhead Grammar School, and it was here that his sons Christopher and Paul were born.
In 1963, the family moved to Tiverton, where Geoffrey had been appointed head of the classics department at Blundell’s School. It was during this time that Geoffrey began running excavations of Romano-British sites in Dorset, with boys from Birkenhead and Blundell’s helping with the digging. One of their most important finds was the skeleton of a late Iron Age warrior with all his weapons, which was displayed for many years in the Dorchester Museum.
In 1968, in a courageous change of course, Geoffrey moved from school-teaching into adult education, taking on the role of deputy warden, and later warden, at Attingham Hall, an adult education college in Shropshire, and simultaneously holding the post of staff lecturer in the Department of Extramural Studies at Birmingham University.
Geoffrey proved to be a popular warden, and managed to attract some very well known people to lecture on the weekend courses and summer schools at Attingham. There was enormous demand at that time for courses on all aspects of the civilisation of Greece and Rome, and Geoffrey was among those pioneering the teaching of classics in adult education.
However, Attingham closed in 1976, and after a period working as an adult education tutor in archaeology for Shropshire County Council, during which Geoffrey and Barbara separated and subsequently divorced, Geoffrey moved back to London in 1977 to take up the role of Education Officer at the revamped Museum of London in its new, purpose-built setting overlooking the remains of London’s Roman wall. By the early 1980s, Geoffrey had risen to become director of the education department, a post he remained in until his retirement in 1994.
While at the museum he published numerous articles in various archaeological publications, and thoroughly immersed himself in the stimulating academic life the role offered him. He also relished the opportunity to be involved in shaping the museum’s presentation of the history of London to future generations, and to continue his hands-on lecturing, both to adults, in the lunchtime lectures he instituted, and to parties of visiting schoolchildren.
He used his holidays from the museum to deepen and broaden his historical knowledge, exploring ancient sites all around the Mediterranean during this period, as well as fitting in trips to the Far East and America.
Retirement for Geoffrey proved to be very busy. He launched himself as a freelance consultant lecturer on the history and archaeology of London and the eastern Mediterranean, offering one-off lectures and longer courses. He worked extensively for several American universities with London residencies, as well as for various historical and archaeological groups, joining the National Association of Decorative and Fine Arts Societies (NADFAS) directory of lecturers in 1997. He fast became one of their most popular speakers, and addressed hundreds of NADFAS societies across the UK, plus sister societies in Spain and Australia.
Over the years, he expanded the topics he could lecture on into a diverse portfolio – from Roman town planning to advertising on London Transport, from the knights of St John of Jerusalem to the development of English country houses and the effect of the arrival of the railways, to name but a few. He continued to research and develop new lectures to the very end of his life.
For a number of years, Geoffrey was a guest lecturer on Mediterranean cruises for both Cunard and Swan Hellenic, and he also started his own travel business, leading study tours all over the Mediterranean.
Geoffrey was a popular speaker at many adult education establishments, including Maryland College and Knuston Hall. He especially loved giving weekend courses at the latter, and it is thus fitting that, in January 2018, it was at Knuston that Geoffrey delivered his very last weekend course – on the Minoans and Mycenaeans – ending, as he had begun, with his first love, the ancient history of the eastern Mediterranean.
As well as his passion for history and archaeology, Geoffrey also loved opera, classical music, art and gardening. He was an active supporter of the RNLI, presenting an annual award for the most meritorious service, a huge fan of the cryptic crossword in The Times, and an excellent cook.
After an adventurous life lived to the full, Peter died quietly in hospital on 7th December 2015. Born in Roehampton in 1938, Peter was evacuated with his sister Anne to a farm in Lancashire for the duration of the war, before returning to his parents’ home. While on the farm Peter learned to drive at the age of seven. His father Brian was a director of a family business importing cane and rattan products.
At St. Paul’s Peter coxed the Colts V111 before concentrating on achieving individual success as a sculler. He was also a keen member of Troop 1 in the Scouts and continued with scouting as an ASM after leaving school. At a summer camp in Cornwall, he calmly killed a rabbit with his bare hands, then skinned and cooked it for supper-a true backwoodsman. He became a good friend of RLS Bennett and his wife Frances, accompanying them on organised trips abroad, and the friendship endured for many years.
Peter read Mechanical Engineering at the Northampton Institute in the University of London. Although he did not complete his degree course, due to his father’s death and the need to become involved in the family business, Peter was always proud to call himself an engineer. Having bought a large house in the Surrey Hills, he married his first wife Sue and had two daughters, Nicola and Louise. Both Peter and Sue enjoyed recreational flying and both obtained their private pilots licences, but Peter’s main passion in the 1960s was motor sport.
In 1963 Peter made his name by winning the British Hill Climb Championship in a car which he had designed and built at home. The next year he was loaned the unique Ferguson-Climax P99 and won the Championship again. He went on to further racing success in Formula 3 and then Formula 2. He even finished 9th in his only F1 race, the 1969 German Grand Prix. Further details of his racing career can be read on the BRDC website. What it does not mention is that Peter proudly wore the hat band from his old school boater stuck round his crash helmet. He might have had even more racing success were it not for the time spent developing his Felday Engineering business, initially building 4-wheel drive cars in conjunction with Rob Walker and Tony Rolt, then rebuilding and preparing engines for a list of famous drivers and finally designing a competitive F2 engine from scratch. At Peter’s funeral Derek Bell, who went on to multiple wins in Le Mans and Daytona 24 hours races, acknowledged his great debt to Peter for giving him his first big break and preparing his car immaculately.
In 1973 Peter retired from racing, closed his business and concentrated on boats and planes. By then his marriage has broken down. In his early 40s Peter embarked on a new career by qualifying as a commercial pilot. He flew for an air taxi company as well as doing two six-month stints in Australia for a survey company. He also flew a private jet for a wealthy individual.
In the early 1980s he met Jenny and she moved into his Holmbury house with her daughter Claire, and they eventually married 1998.
Peter, who learned to sail in Salcombe as a child, bought his first yacht jointly with Sir George Martin. Another yacht was bought later for chartering out in Turkey. In 1989 Peter and Jenny sailed their 50’ catamaran Star Trek to Turkey and then in 1995 across the Atlantic and spent the next ten years sailing around the Caribbean between December and April.
In 2006 they bought a new family home in Tobago, selling their house in Holmbury and purchasing a smaller house in Dorking for use on their visits back to the UK, often timed to coincide with Silverstone and Goodwood. In Tobago Peter started another business, buying several rental villas.
Peter enjoyed major projects in which he could use his engineering skills, such as constructing a tennis court in his steeply sloping Surrey garden and building an infinity pool at his house in Tobago and was never happier than when he was in his comprehensive workshop. He also had a mischievous streak. When on holiday in Scotland at the age of 15 and still quite small, he was spotted bowling along a country road in his father’s 2.5 litre Riley RM. By the time the shocked policeman had turned round, Peter had stopped and changed seats with his mother. When coxing at school he tried depth charging other crews with Tizer bottles filled with water and calcium carbide. Years later when in Houston, Texas on a flying course, he and a friend tested the shock load capability of a glass fronted hotel elevator by jumping up and down in unison. Not surprisingly, it came to a grinding halt midway between floors in full view of the restaurant.
Peter loved to socialise in pubs and characteristically provided in his will for a big party in his old ‘local’ for all his former drinking companions. Peter held strong opinions and did not suffer fools gladly, but he was charismatic and exciting, interesting and interested to the end and his friends and family miss him greatly.
Written by: John Holder (1955-60) with contributions from Nick Campling (1950-54), Paul Boon (1951-56) and Jenny Westbury.
Michael was born to Joseph Lawrence & Phyllis Wood in Streatham 9.4.36. After a period at boarding school in Somerset, Michael spent three years at St Pauls and was happiest indulging in his passion for sport and in particular cricket. After completing his National Service, Michael began his working career with the National Bank of India where joined the Eastern Staff for which a posting to then Rhodesia awaited him. The posting was never fulfilled and Michael decided his future lay with the National Provincial Bank, which later became the National Westminster Bank.
He spent several years in branch banking in and around the City. On one occasion, when working at the Oxford St branch, he confronted and pursued a man trying to extort money from the cashier with what turned out later to be a fake bomb. The judge commended Michael for his bravery.
Michael also spent a number of happy years as a schools’ liaison officer for the bank targeting the next generation of bankers. During this time he was instrumental in starting up the schools under-19 rugby tournament at Twickenham. This was a perfect match for Michael, combining his passion for sport with his professional career.
Married to Liz in 1962, they settled in Chelmsford in Essex to raise a family. Three children followed, Nicola, Amanda and Matthew and in time five grandchildren. In retirement Michael and Liz settled in Danbury to share their passion for gardening and golf.
Michael was always one to share his time and knowledge. As a coach at Chelmsford Rugby Club, as part of the NatWest caravan club both as a caravaner and Chairman of the Club. Latterly as Vice Chairman of Danbury Parish Council and an active member of the Danbury U3A. Always active, always supportive and always with a smile. He is very much missed.