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John Ignatius Hanrahan (55)



John was Captain of Boats and played in the 1st XV


Sue Hanrahan writes,


After leaving Beaumont in 1955 John spent two years in the Royal Ulster Rifles serving in Germany and Cyprus.He was then accepted onto a Unilever Management Trainee Problem and worked for Thomson Newspapers, Cock Russell Vintners, Seagrams, the Corporate Responsibility Centre. He also worked for Dibb Lupton Alsop on their legal conference programmes. His final job was with Leonard Cheshire.In the sixties he wanted to become a Conservative MP and fought two 2 by election in West Houghton. He was unsuccessful which was probably a good thing.


He loved Rugby and played for the London Welsh and Wasps well into his 30s. He enjoyed amateur dramatics, music especially played really loud, good food and of course lots of wine. His faith was a lrge part of his life and he was grateful to the Jesuits for the grounding they gave him.


He died peacefully in hospital after a battle with dementia and cancer of the liver.


He didn’t get married until he was 41 and leaves a widow, three children and two grandchildren.


Anthony Hussey writes:-


At school a live wire. And not just in the classroom and on stage. In the scrum where shoved like a JCB and in the Eight where his efforts were mightier than all the Scandinavian Warships put together.


I was Thurifer to his Sacristan at St John’s and he was entirely (un)responsible for filling the whole of the thurible to the brim with charcoal so rather than a whiff of holy smoke we got a volcano of fumes which caused small boys in the front rows to turn green and white, and Jose Dias who was one of the two acolytes to faint just after he had rung the bell at the Consecration five times. Father Dunphy was not amused.


I fought the two elections with him in West Houghton, a very suburb of Wigan which had been a Labour held seat then for over 40 years. John took it very seriously but we still had a lot of fun. I had the loudspeaker car so you can imagine the effect that an RP accent had in that part of the world. I got home with every panel of the car dented! Despite my worst/best efforts John succeeded in keeping the swing to Labour and Harold Wilson down to .9% whereas it was 9% nationally. Huge fun and many hilarious memories.


He was a very warm person with a very direct, humorous, questioning approach which is why he did so well. No “side” to him at all. In his opinions on politicians, personalities he was a perambulating Private Eye. Perceptive, witty and edgy. Wonderful, stimulating company.


 Finally, 48 years ago John introduced me to Lorna who was then sharing a flat with his then girlfriend.


Any positive clichés thought of are appropriate.




John Joseph Bracey- Gibbon (51)





Jonathan Bracey-Gibbon writes:


John died of Alzheimers from which he’d suffered for nine years. Although he had a good quality of life through that time, no provisions were made to deal with any of the huge amount of filed information on family, business, finances, artefacts etc. You might recall, his father was MD of Agfa and there are 1000s of pictures many over 100 years old which need archiving etc - including a few of his huge Buick!


John pursued a successful career in security printing, travelling the world winning orders for bank notes from central banks in far-flung places. He was still winning orders from former USSR states as recently as 2000. He retired to Norfolk in 2006


I myself attended Stonyhurst - as Beaumont had closed by then. John is being buried at St Mary’s, Bedwyn an Anglican Church, in the same cemetery as our mother, herself an Anglican who was devoted to this particular church when they lived locally to it. As she originally agreed to marry him in a Catholic Church it seemed fair he should return the favour, so to speak. 


But although the church is Anglican, it appears the vicar had originally been ordained as a Jesuit at Stonyhurst when I was there in the mid 70s! However he crossed the house, so to speak, and has been with the other side for the past 20 years. That said, he has been only too happy to include the use of a thurible and incense as part of the service…


 I have his Beaumont tie which I’ll be wearing tomorrow.















Eulogy given by Henry’s son Julian at Henry’s Requiem







Ladies and Gentlemen, friends and family; on behalf of Carol, my mother Jeannette, Gaby, and myself, thank you all very much for being here today. Especially to those who have travelled from far and wide – I note here cousin Rob, who has flown in from Australia.


I have once heard it said of man, that the idea is to die young, as late as possible – this was certainly true of my father. I remember attending a family lunch a couple of years ago, to be greeted by Dad with both arms in plaster. He had been bucked off a young horse, aged 77 I believe. Whilst this sheer lunacy frustrated me at the time, I can only look back with admiration at his indomitable sense of adventure. His only words were ‘You should have seen the other guy!’


Dad was born December 1st, 1939 in Salisbury, Rhodesia, son of Colonel John Stevens OBE and Pauline, nee Ingleby. With their father fighting in Burma, the Stevens family moved to Nakuru, Kenya – the home of White Mischief – before Dad, his brother Ant and sister Pinny moved back to England after the war.


Educated at St Johns and then Beaumont – the Catholic Eton – Dad excelled in sporting arena whilst giving academia a cursory glance. He got his triple colours in rugby, cricket and boxing. However, as the archetypal naughty schoolboy, he also regularly ended up on the receiving end of the ferrela. If you do not know what that is, see me afterwards. At Beaumont, Dad made lifelong friendships and it is fantastic to see many of that contingent here today.











 During the next chapter of his life, Dad pursued his passion for rugby. Via Australia, this culminated in the golden years of the late 60s and early 70s, playing in the centres for London Irish – captained by the British and Irish Lions skipper Ken Kennedy, and playing against many of the greats of the era.


In the late 1970s, Dad co-founded and ran, alongside my Godfather, Geoff Goff, “The Good Knight Country Club” in Haslemere. The club was a unique combination of restaurant, bar and discotheque – Haslemere’s answer to Annabels. Dad needed no invitation to regale tales of fun, frolics and keeping the local law enforcement on side, during these halcyon years. It soon became clear, however, the demands of Saturday afternoon and Saturday night could not be 100% reconciled, and Dad moved on to rugby pastures new at Guildford & Godalming rugby club, where he played for countless seasons and made a second group of lifelong friends.




 These years though were not without heartbreak. Dad’s first daughter Nicky died tragically in Hong Kong on October 1st, 1972. She was only 8 years old and is buried in Midhurst cemetery, where Dad will also be laid to rest. It should give us great solace, that they are now finally re-united and looking down peacefully on us today.


In a twist of good fortune, Dad met my mother Jeannette during this time. They met on a beach in Spain. I imagine Dad was waltzing up the shore line admiring himself, he stopped to greet a young Dutch lady – and asked her where the loo was. Great line Dad. They married in 1972, teamed up to run the nightclub and moved into Ingleby House. My sister Gaby and I entered the world at this stage, and the two of us were raised down the end of a long lane in countryside heaven, surrounded by dogs and horses and loved nothing more than a long hack in the hills with the old man.


 One of the hallmarks of Dad’s legacy for me, is the ability to work through adversity with determination, humour and display strength of character. He showed these qualities in abundance after Mum’s accident, which saw them both need to rebuild and rehabilitate their lives. They showed immense bravery and courage in doing this successfully and taught both Gabs and I valuable lessons.







It was one evening in Good Knight Club, Dad and a certain regular patron, found themselves at the bottom of a bottle of something expensive. Dad woke up the following day, with a hangover and two polo ponies. From that day forth, a new passion was born at age 40 that was to remain with Dad for the rest of his years.


The sport of polo took centre stage for the second half of Dad’s life. This was a natural progression given his love of horses, ball sports, competitiveness and all that accompanies polo life. His eye for a young thoroughbred set him apart, as he transitioned them from the race-track and on to the polo field. Nothing made Dad more proud than seeing one of his young equine proteges play good polo - in particular the aptly named ‘H’ or ‘Hache’, who ultimately won best playing pony at the Argentine Open.


Initially the




Initially the Cowdray Cowboy, then the Silver Fox, and ultimately the White Wolf! – ‘H’ was immersed in all thing’s polo at Cowdray Park, and across the globe, from training and renting ponies, liveries, coaching and latterly umpiring. He was a constant source of humour and passion and could get on famously with both Princes and Professionals alike; whilst never failing to work hard alongside his long-suffering grooms at the end of a long day’s polo. He became an integral part of life at Cowdray and his presence, knowledge and joie de vie will be deeply missed, as well as his classic White Beamer!













Dad enriched the lives of those around him with his zest for life, humour and his vast experience. He once said to me ‘I have made every mistake in the book, so you don’t have to!”. I am sure I have repeated a few of these mistakes, but what more can you ask of a father!? He proved to be a trusted father-figure, friend and inspiration to many who were making their way in life, right until the end. With his back-book of vivid experience, even if not directly, many lived vicariously through him.


During the 1990s, Dad met Carol whilst on polo tour in California. They developed an unbelievable partnership over 25 years, that saw them move to Florida in the winters, whilst spending the summers in the UK. Very sensible. Their lives followed the sun, the polo season, and Carol’s latest sun-glass related ventures. Their relationship was a rock for Dad over the years – it brought him back down to earth when he needed grounding and lifted him off the floor when he needed raising. One cannot underestimate the tireless love and commitment Carol gave Dad during the last few years of ups and downs.


Henry defied age without even trying, both in looks and in physicality - and occasionally in behaviour! - right until the end. He would have been 80 years young last Sunday. He without doubt had that twinkle in his eye that everyone loved and wanted to be around. One of my friends described his ‘unfailing outrageousness’ which seems to capture many moments at the bar or on the rugby or polo field. Several have remarked he was seemingly ‘Indestructible’. This is never the case in the end, but he remained a fighter, and an inspiration, and an example to us all of how to live life with courage and to its fullest.




I will leave you with a couple of tributes that capture the essence of Dad well for me. There are countless of course, so thank you all.


“I have fond memory of him when we first met... I was sitting in the corner of the playroom on my first day (at St John’s) a bit miserable not knowing anybody, and getting slightly irritated with the St Johns boys who all knew each other, when I was hit in the face by a pea shooter. I looked up and saw Henry sitting on a billiard table with a big grin on his face. He came over and introduced himself. He was the only St Johns boy who took the trouble to say hello. It was a kind gesture which I never forgot, and typical of Henry.”


Here’s another:


“A true throw-back to a better-time, a bon-viveur, generous to a fault, great company and a proper sportsman… he was already ready with a joke and a beer.. he will be greatly missed”.




Ultimately, Dad was so many things to so many people, and he had a special relationship with each of you. I will try and encapsulate some of his many qualities.


He was old-time rock and roll,


He was the party’s life and soul,


He was a class act, both on and off the pitch,


He was conservative and a Catholic,


but outrageous and a maverick.


He was audacious and ageless,


He inspired those around him,


He was empathetic, loyal and generous to a tee,


He was no Saint, he had an ego, and told you bluntly how it was,


but he had the kindest eye to match.


He was a devoted grandfather to Milo, Tilly, Lucas and Poppy,


He was a protective and loving father,


He was a husband, a partner, a brother,


A school-mate, a team-mate, and your best friend,


We all loved him, and he is now in heav’n.











From The Times (Unedited)


Jerry Gilmore gave his name in 1980 to Gilmore’s groin, a syndrome that he discovered in professional footballers. “The first patient referred to me was a midfield player from Tottenham Hotspur, the second was a midfield player from Aberdeen,” he told the Physio Room website.  “Both had not played football in over three months because of pain in the inguinal region made worse by sprinting, twisting, turning and kicking.”
Neither player had an orthopaedic problem, leading Gilmore to believe that the problem lay in the inguinal canal, where men usually develop a hernia. “On exploration neither had a hernia, but both had evidence of trauma to the tissues,” he recalled. “I therefore carried out repair of these tissues. Following surgery, both were back in training within four weeks and playing within six.”
The many hundreds of patients who underwent the “Gilmore’s Groin” procedure included Premier League football stars, rugby internationals and track athletes. It proved to be a career-saving operation, and the specialist clinic he set up in Harley Street is still operating.
In 1991 Paul Gascoigne, in his first game back after a Gilmore’s Groin procedure, scored a stunning goal for Tottenham against Arsenal in the 1991 FA cup semi-final. Gilmore, an Arsenal fan who was at the match with some of his children, was pleased with his handiwork but dismayed by the result.  A newspaper cartoon the following day referenced Terry Venables, the Spurs manager, with one Tottenham fan turning to another and saying: “I hear Terry is sending the rest of the team for a quick groin operation.”
From the world of rugby Johnny Wilkinson and Jeremy Guscott benefitted from the treatment, while Jason Gardener, the British sprinter who is now president of British Athletics, recalled what happened after he tore his groin having just won the 60 metres at the 2004 World Indoor Championship: “I went from the fastest man in the world to the slowest and was advised it would be impossible to make the Olympics that year. Then someone told me I needed to go and see Jerry Gilmore. He operated on me with his magic hands and I was training again in just six weeks.” Three months later Gardener won gold in the Olympics 4 x 100 m race.
Yet Gilmore was not restricted to dealing with men’s groins. He also treated people with breast cancer, who invariably found him to be a reassuring presence and an excellent communicator.   Wendy Richard, the EastEnders actress, told the press that Jerry Gilmore “saved my life” after he successfully treated her for breast cancer and later dedicated her autobiography to him.
Owen Jeremy Adrian Gilmore was born in Corsham, Wiltshire in 1941, the son of Owen Gilmore, a GP, and Carmel Cantwell, a magistrate. He grew up in Highworth near Swindon, where his father had a practice. Young Jeremy was sent to be educated by Jesuits at Beaumont College in Berkshire. 
A keen sportsman, he played tennis for his county, rowed at Henley and was a keen rugby player, playing for his school and university. He liked to tell of how, after taking his A levels, he was visiting Rome during the Olympic Games in 1960, where he saw the boxer Cassius Clay, later Muhammad  Ali, win Olympic gold. While there he received a telegram from his father that drily noted: “Congratulations, You passed biology.” There was no mention of the rest.
At his entrance interview for St Bartholomew’s Hospital, Gilmore was questioned by the dean, a pillar for the Christian Union, who noted that he had cheekily listed one of his hobbies as architecture and inquired about which particular aspects interested him most. Having spent his childhood accompanying his father on tours of European cathedrals, Gilmore replied without hesitation: “Ecclesiastical, sir.” He was offered a place.







While a medical student he continued to play rugby as prop forward. The lively rugby club dinners he organised, always reserved under the guise of the “St Thomas’s Hospital Choral Society”, were fabled occasions. He always loved a good party and was known for his irreverent wit. Later in his career, when sending out invitations to his lectures, he would say: “Afterwards you are invited to have a glass of the oldest antiseptic in the world.” 
Gilmore’s love of rugby was a constant through his life. He became president of both Bart’s and United Hospital’s rugby teams. He was often found at international matches, where his hospitality was fabled, and travelled to South Africa and New Zealand for two British Lions tours. 
Qualifying in 1966, he was awarded the Royal College of Surgeon’s Begley prize for obtaining top marks in surgery finals. In 1970, aged only 28, he obtained his fellowship of the Royal College of Surgeons. He was a master of surgery six years later. Along the way he accumulated many awards including the Hamilton Bailey Prize from the International College of Surgeons in 1975 and the prestigious Hunterian professorship in 1976.
Gilmore’s early research focused on wound infection and sepsis and led to the development and use of dry power povidone iodine spray in the prevention of post-operative wound infection. This spray was also launched on the consumer market and became widely used by the public, a product his family knew as “yellow magic” spray. Later his research crystalised into a specific and fundamental interest in soft tissue injury and repair, something that would later define his career. 
In the 1970s Gilmore was part of the junior doctors’ executive committee that confronted Barbara Castle, the health secretary, about yet another NHS reorganisation. A vote among junior doctors led to strike action and Gilmore was tasked with informing not only Castle but, more dauntingly, the Bart’s consultants medical committee. His contemporaries warned that he would never work in London again, but within a year he was appointed consultant surgeon at Bart’s. 
Having started out as a general surgeon, Gilmore then specialised in breast cancer treatment and groin surgery. He led the breast unit at Bart’s when the team introduced the first aromatase inhibitor for breast cancer, the most significant new therapy for breast cancer for 25 years. He was dedicated to his patients and each year took his young family, bearing an assortment of musical instruments, into Barts on Christmas Day to sing and play carols to his patients. 
Nevertheless, he grew increasingly frustrated and concerned about the negative impacts of the NHS cutbacks, particularly on his cancer patients. He was known to call hospital managers at home during his 7am ward rounds to ask them to come in and explain to his patients why their operations had been cancelled.  
In the 1980s Gilmore left the NHS to establish a practice at 108 Harley Street, equipping his centre with a radiology department and operating theatre. At the time NHS patients could wait many weeks for their various tests to come back and treatment to be planned. Under Gilmore’s “one-stop” system a centre of excellence was born and continues to this day. This practice has since become the norm for breast cancer treatment.









Gilmore applied the same intensity and vision to his home life and his private life. In 1966 he married Hilary McCrudden, a nurse he had met at Bart’s. They had six children, who were named in alphabetical order: Anna, who is a professor of public health; Emma, a therapist who owns the School of Bodywork; Inigo, a journalist; Laura, the director of a yoga school; Natasha, a dancer and choreographer; and Rod, a music promoter and DJ.  The marriage was dissolved and with his subsequent partner, Jane Gant, also a nurse,   he had three children:  Georgia, who works for an environmental charity; Octavia, an actor; and Chiara a forester.  Jane and his nine children survive him, as do eight grandchildren.
More than 9,000 patients have been seen and treated at the Groin Clinic and more than 4,000 operations performed while some 2,500 professional sportsmen and women including 450 internationals have passed through its doors. Thanks to his attention to detail, 97 per cent of professional footballers returned to playing. His work at 108 Harley Street continues, led by his successor, Simon Marsh.
Gilmore remained proud of his reputation and the high profile of his clients. His skills as a surgeon were recognised by Martin Bell, the BBC war correspondent, who was hit with mortar shrapnel in the groin in Sarajevo in 1992.   Bell later referenced Gilmore in his biography, Harm’s Way: Bosnia, A War Reporter’s Story (2012), writing: “I was grateful for the exceptional skill and good humour of the surgeon, Mr Gilmore.” 

Jerry Gilmore, surgeon, was born on December 27, 1941. He died from heart and renal failure following treatment for bowel cancer, on November 13, 2019, aged 78 .








Brigadier Michael Perrett-Young MBE (44)




Michael was the son of Colonel J G C Perrett-Young and came to Beaumont in 1940 from Gibbs in Sloane Street. He was to pass the war years Old Windsor with all its accompanying deprivations.


“The walls shook and dust fell from the ceiling of Our Lady's Chapel in the 'White House' where all of us New Boys were gathered for a „briefing‟ on that September 1940 evening. No warning in terms of the usual uneven throb of Luftwaffe engines or other nearby explosions. No panic either as we were directed in to the cellars. The bomb that had fallen on Brothers' Walk was a novel opening to four War years at Beaumont, and needless to say, we were there the next day inspecting the crater. It must have been back to Dormitory routine soon afterwards as with others, I watched the flashes of AA fire and searchlights towards London after 'lights out' for which I got in to trouble ! Soon afterwards I moved to sleeping on the floor in the 'White House' entrance hall where from time to time, a very kind Lay Brother left snacks for me from the Js' Dining Room. In general though, despite rationing we never went hungry. Later perhaps in '42 or'43, a number us slept on our own camp beds in the Library. Classroom routine continued without interruption although with Cardinal Vaughan's School from London, part-sharing the facilities, there must have been some rejigging of teaching schedules. I recall two Rectors, Fr Lilley followed by Fr Hailsham, and Fr J D Boyle Director of Studies. We were much in awe of the latter, but from my later personal experience, he was a most understanding man. And I could never forget Fr Henry Day, WW1 Army Chaplain very crippled and mainly confined to his room in the „white house‟. It was a popular evening gathering place where he presided over relaxed conversations, and where his Military Cross, and Order of the White Eagle of Serbia were much in evidence. Cricket and Rugby flourished as did rowing.







I was in the 1st V111 and we competed against Eton 2 and UCS amongst others, and also won the 1943 Egham Regatta. On the fitness side, runs to the Copper Horse and Paripan Works (at the Egham end of Runnymede) were regular, only limited by the occasional bomb/landmine falling on and closing the Great Park. The JTC was commanded by Viscount Fitzalan.. He was very lame; wound or arthritis I'm not sure. We wore/were equipped with WW1 style khaki uniform ie peaked cap, tunic, 'breeches', puttees, boots, black leather belt with 'S'clip. SMLE rifle, and long 'sword' bayonet. At a Field Day I attended in the Great Park, there was no shortage of „thunderflashes‟ but MG fire was simulated with rattles. We supported the Home Guard and on one exercise guarded the Albert Bridge at Datchet . In July 1943 the JTC participated in a 'Wings for Victory' fund raising event ; we assembled at Combermere Barracks in Windsor and with other Service and civilian contingents, marched past HM the King & Queen , Princess Elizabeth, Princess Margaret Rose and King Haakon of Norway in the Quadrangle of Windsor Castle, Later on I decided my future would be with the RAF, and so I joined the ATC, cycling to regular evening 'drills' in Windsor. While returning to Beaumont from one of them, AA shrapnel tingled on the road, and I pedalled that bit faster ! In the same year a USAAF Flying Fortress crash landed on Runnymede (head on to just where there's a kink in the road). The whole School must have been down the next morning for a look ! Again in 1943, we were very surprised at lunch, to see a variety of strangers including some attractive ladies, joining the Js at the top table. Arthur Askey, Ann Shelton, Jean Kent etc . They were making the film 'Bees in Paradise' (yes, truly), and Beaumont had lent/hired them the Runnymede playing fields. The School‟s own dramatic efforts flourished too and I remember a very professional and scary production of 'The Monkey's Paw'. In July 1944 a V1 Flying Bomb hit the Bells of Ousley, killing two people and injuring a number of others. Fr Tempest and a few of us rushed down to see if we could help, but the Rescue Services were soon on the scene. The West side had taken the blast and was a pile of rubble with twisted V1 metal/components lying here and there. . Michael left Beaumont in 1944 and went to Cambridge under RAF sponsorship, where ―I was fortunate to be welcomed and supported by the outstanding Chaplain of the time, Father later Mgr Alfred Gilbey . Other OBs there included a good friend Tim McElhaw. I then enlisted as a Private in the Queen's Royal Regiment in July 1945 then with service in the UK (including JARIC – Joint Air Reconnaissance intelligence Centre and the Royal Naval War College at Greenwich), BAOR, Malaya, Berlin, and Belgium. ―I had the singular good fortune to become Director Intelligence Corps from 1979 to 81, after which I retired. I live in Yorkshire in Kirkbymoorside about twenty minutes run from Ampleforth , which although I'm a 'southerner' , this is due to my Yorkshire wife, whom I met while she was working in the St John & Red Cross Welfare at BMH Alexandra, Singapore. She was in to horses both in BAOR cross-country, trials, etc in the 1950s before we met, and then later up here running the local Agricultural Show for 22 years.


Michel played a small part in the history of Cyprus when the winter crisis of 1963 resulted in the division of the island between Greeks and Turks. At the emergency Conference Duncan Sandys, Major General Peter Young (Commander Land Forces) and Air Chief Marshal Sir Denis Barnett (Commander in Chief Near East Air Force and Commander British Forces Cyprus) discussed the problem with the British High Commissioner, the Ambassadors of Greece and Turkey, delegations from both Greek and Turkish Cypriots, the Commanding Officers of the Greek and Turkish National Contingents. 


"it was during the Conference break that, at his (General Young's) request, I produced chinagraphs for him from the variety of colours I had brought up from Episkopi in my map case. The 'green' was no random selection. Bearing in mind factional sensitivities, my choice was quite deliberate. Blue and red, apart from the latter's association with the 'enemy', and with their Greek and Turkish connotations respectively, were hardly suitable. 'Green' usually used for marking emplacements/fortifications and minefields, seemed the least controversial". The Green line came into existence and is still there today.




Michael Alfonso de Bertodano Marquis Del Moral (54)





His father was the 8th Marquis de Moral a Spanish title, he had firstly married Lady Ida Dalzell daughter of the Earl of Carnwath and after her death he married Gytha Stourton. Gytha ancestry included the Mowbray, Southwell, Throckmorton and Mostyn families all Catholic titled families and with sons at Beaumont at various times.  Michael was Gytha’s son, he had a half -Brother Andrew who married Lady Mary Savile daughter of the Earl of Mexborough and his half-sister Mary married Malcolm Stewart son of Sir Percy Stewart Bart.


Michael married Carolina Garcia de la Riva in 1968 and settled in Madrid:  they had four sons and a daughter. He was a member of The Beaumont Union.




Pyers Anthony Joseph Southwell, 7th Viscount Southwell of Castle Mattress. (48)





Pyers Anthony Joseph Southwell, 7th Viscount Southwell of Castle Mattress was born on 14 September 1930. He was the son of the Hon Francis Southwell  and Agnes Clifford. His Grandfather was the 5th Viscount  and a great grandfather Lord Waleran, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster between 1902 and 1905.On his mother’s side Fr Sir Lewis was his uncle  and he was a cousin of the Sir Roger (54): he was also related to the Mostyns and the Lovat Frasers.


 Pyers or Anthony as he was usually called went to St John’s in 1939 and the College in 1944. He was awarded his cricket Cap and was our most successful batsman at the Oratory match with a score of 47: we won by 77 runs. “Southwell is a player strong on the leg side. Over a century ago the famous Notts player George Parr known as “the lion of the north” was renowned for his leg hitting. It is a definite style of play, strokes not by accident but by design and of this school of batsmanship Southwell showed himself an extremely adept pupil”. He took the Civil service Exam and having passed RCB he went on to Sandhurst. (At Beaumont he had made Sgt in the JTC and had been awarded the Silver Drum,)


Anthony was commissioned into the 8th King’s Royal Irish Hussars, his Uncle George’s old Regiment and quite often referred to at the time as “Beaumont’s Own” from the number of OBs that served. He stayed with the Regiment reaching the rank of Captain but left when he wedded Barbara Raynes. He became an international marketing and management consultant and a Director of Tobenoil. He succeeded as the 7th Viscount Southwell of Castle Mattress, co. Limerick, as the 10th Baronet Southwell, of Castle Mattress, co. Limerick  and as the 9th Baron Southwell of Castle Mattress, co. Limerick on 18 November 1960. On retirement in 2003 he moved to  Paphos, Cyprus where he died on 23 September at the age of 89.


He and his wife had two sons both educated at Ampleforth and the elder Richard succeeds to the Titles.


Pyers Anthony was a member of The BU up until his death.







David was the son of Colonel John Crewe-Read OBE and the Hon Diana Wroughton Robins and a grandson of the first and last Lord Robins of Rhodesia and Chelsea. He came to Beaumont from Uplands Hall in 1958 but left in 1962 a year before his contemporaries ending his days in Upper Syntax.  At school, David enjoyed rowing and scouting and was a member of Sodality. Initially he joined the wine firm of Hedges & Butler (ED: purveyors of fine wine to certain members of Higher Line). However, David gave this up for the antiques trade.


Lyricist Sir Time Rice wrote “David and his wife lived in the flat above the Lloyd-Webbers at Gledhow Gardens and they became good friends. David ran a shop called the Pine Mine and apart from selling furniture dabbled in the Art World where Andrew’s interest was formidable. David was a very funny fellow, tall and slim, who soon became the court–jester to Andrew’s entourage and Art Adviser particularly on Pre-Raphaelites to a man who became one of the country’s leading and most important collectors. David affected a wonderfully disreputable and degenerate attitude to life at the time and Andrew, very innocent in the ways of the world, enjoyed the thought of living dangerously through David acting the archetypal cad. In the early nineties the pair had a disagreement over the purchase of a Leighton sculpture leading to a split between the two: I took no sides”.


David’s colourful life would lead him into two marriages. He married Elizabeth Dyer not long after leaving school and their eldest son Caspian was born in 1967. Two other children followed, including Gabriella who married the late Toby Grafftey- Smith lead singer of Pop Band “Jamiroquai” (his electric E-Type Jag is now owned by Prince Harry and was used at his wedding).  Following the collapse of his marriage David married Emma Garton a cousin of Juan Garton (63) and they had three further children.


 David was a regular at the BU dinner but after business problems he moved to Malta for a time, thereafter he would turn-up out of the blue as he did for the Lunch a couple of years ago. David will be remembered with affection by his friends in the BU – he was Mark Marshall’s Best Man and a Godfather to Brian Bourke’s son Henry; as fellow Dealer Tony Outred said “He was the lovable rogue”.


David died in the Chelsea and Westminster on 31st January from Kidney failure. A private Requiem was held at the Church of the Holy Redeemer Chelsea and a Memorial Service 13th March.