Fr David Forrester

Titles:

Servant of God; servant of man

Posh boys’ priest

From the Tiber to the Thames

Establishment rebel

Angel of mercy

Father Forrester was the finest priest I ever met. Compassionate, ebullient, intelligent, full of fun and fired by a fervent faith – he had a most marvelous effect on the lives of countless thousands of people. His bounteous kindness was legendary. He won the hearts of even inveterate enemies of the faith. He had the most exceptional ability to form a rapport with everyone from princes to paupers. David was generous in every sense. He was a man of quiet virtue and was no Pharisee. David was a man of immense tolerance and eternal patience. He was certainly forgiving of my puerilities.

Priest, doctorate, unofficial social worker, author, historian and the master of five languages (English, French, Italian, Latin and Ancient Greek) – David was a man of many parts. He was also blessed with a fine singing voice. He was said to have been a passable actor too.

CHILDHOOD

David Forrester was born in Rushden, Northamptonshire in 1934. His father was something high up in a shoe factory and his mother was a nurse. Unusually for the time, his mother worked full time. Almost everything about his family was uncommon. David had a brother who was 12 years older than him. His brother was at boarding school before David was born.

The family was well off and owned a car when that was very rare indeed. But his parents rowed frequently because his father was compulsively unfaithful.

Cod psychology makes me wonder how David’s parents formed his character. David described his father as being tall and clever but someone who wasted his abilities. He refused to take responsibility. David suspected his father did not love him. Shockingly, David’s mother told him when he was small that when she became pregnant with him David’s father urged her to abort the baby. David seems to have been closer to his mother who was a very active and responsible person. As a nurse she was always going to people’s houses to cure them.

It seems that David reacted against his father. The belief that his father did not live him and indeed wanted him dead can only have added to this. The father was a womanizer and David was a celibate. His father was selfish and uncaring. David was the polar opposite. David’s father squandered his intellect whereas David did not do so. The father was lanky and David emphatically was not. Can this also have added to his desire – perhaps subconscious – to differentiate himself from his progenitor? Perhaps this wish to distance himself from his father explains his religious proclivities. He sought to be close to the Heavenly Father. Moreover, by turning to Catholicism he rejected his father’s denomination. On the other hand this was also a rejection of his mother.

The mother is the one whom David appears to have followed. She was the responsible and nurturing person.

As David had almost been murdered in the womb one might have thought this would make him vociferous is speaking up for a child’s right to life. But in fact he was not very exercised on the issue.

The Forrester’s were conventional Anglicans. Their religion was performed perfunctorily rather than passionately. David was put into a Salvation Army nursery. There he became passionate about the Bible.

A bomb dropped on David’s primary school almost killing him. His father was soon on the scene to carry him to safety.

At the age of 9, David was sent to the Duke of York School. It is a military school in Dover. The all-male school was extremely Spartan. Savage bullying was rife. David was intellectually precocious in an anti-intellectual school. He was also well below average height. Presumably he came in for more than his fair share of bullying.

The regime at Duke of York was severe indeed with extreme intolerance of the least untidiness. Independence of mind was treated harshly. There was endless square bashing but little warmth or nurture. All the teachers were former military men. The war was on and there were constant air raids.

At the age of 9 David had what was surely the most formative experience of his life. Walking along a beach on the Bristol Channel coast of Devon he suddenly became intensely aware that God was with him. From then on his faith was no longer something he practised perfunctorily. It became an all-consuming passion. It was redolent of John Wesley’s recounting his heart being strangely moved which led him to found Methodism.

In 1945 the war was coming to an end. David’s elder brother was serving with the British Army in Italy. All through the war his parents must have fretted. Would their firstborn be wounded? Or would he be killed? But by 1945 it was clear that Germany would soon surrender. Surely the brother would make it! It was then that David got the news that his elder brother had been killed in action. David said his parents never recovered. The brother had been 22.

At school David’s curiosity led him to wonder if the Church of England really was the most Christian Church. He noticed that Jesus gave his authority to St Peter who had founded the Roman Catholic Church. David came to believe that the bread and wine at communion was the body and blood of Our Lord and Saviour. He scorned the Church of England for saying that this was merely symbolic. David was convinced in the Real Presence.

The Oxford Movement had followed the same path as David a hundred years earlier: from Anglicanism to Roman Catholicism. David became fixated with the Oxford Movement. Indeed he was to become a world expert on it.

David announced to his parents that he wished to cross the Tiber. His parents were displeased to say the least. They had been brought up on tales of the wickedry of the Church of Rome. It was an epoch in which low level anti-Catholicism was not uncommon in England. Catholics were known as RC’s (Roman Catholics) and looked upon as un-English. To be fair most Catholics in England were at least partly Irish, French, Italian or something else. People said the ditty – the Englishman Italianate is the devil incarnate.

At school David resigned from the choir because he wished to leave the Church of England. The Colonel who was headmaster of the school told David that this was a transient phase and that his wish to leave the choir would not be granted. The army crushed dissent.

At the age of 17 David formed a romantic liaison with a Jewish girl of about his age. Both sets of parents thoroughly disapproved of the relationship. The two were forbidden to correspond. That was an era before most people had house phones. Mobile phones had not even been imagined.

The young lady and David wrote to Auntie Hilda. She was not actually his aunt but the woman who ran the playschool he had attended. She would then send the letters on so neither set of parents had an inkling that the two were in contact.

At 18 David proposed to this young lady and she accepted. It was all going so well.

The letters from the girl stopped without warning. What had transpired? David asked Auntie Hilda. She never breathed a word but simply showed him a photo of his fiancée descending the steps of a synagogue sporting a wedding dress and arm in arm with a man.

The impact on David can be imagined. He does not say what it was in his autobiography. Is this what led to his life of celibacy? Perhaps he could never feel romantic love again. He was utterly heartbroken as a mere boy. He and she never had any contact again.

There was almost irresistible pressure on Jewesses to marry Jewish at the time. So soon after the Holocaust, ‘marrying out’ was held to be a betrayal. Perhaps we should not judge this young woman too harshly. On the other hand she was clearly carrying on with the other boy behind David’s back. Moreover, she did not have the moral decency to tell David she was breaking it off with him. But how could she face it?

David had to do National Service. As someone of superior intelligence who had 9 years of a military school behind him, it was easy for David to be commissioned as a lieutenant. Many people in the 1950s were only semi-literate. Most people then left school at 15 without any qualifications at all. David would clearly have had no problem with the paperwork aspect of army officership.

It surprises me that he never once mentioned his time in the army. He seemed a totally unmilitary person. That said he was always immaculate although that might not be owing to his time wearing the Queen’s uniform.

Before going into the army David sat Responsions. That was the admissions exam for Oxford University that ran from the mid-19th century until the 1960s. The exam was in Ancient Greek, Latin and Maths. There was no English! Someone who had achieved the mastery of classical languages was blatantly capable of expressing himself or herself in English.

UNDERGRADUATE

David went up to Keble College, Oxford in the year of grace some one thousand nine hundreds four and fifty. Why did he choose Keble? Possibly because John Keble was a pillar of the Oxford Movement.

Rowing was David’s sport. Because of his stature he became a coxswain. He was about 5’4’’: the height of the average woman. There was some clash on the river. He told me that years later he was summoned to a meeting of all the coxes in Oxford to be chastised. He was rather nervous about showing up. David seemed embarrassed and amused about all those decades later. I felt it showed how close he was to me that he vouchsafed this tale. I do not know what the upshot of the meeting was but he gave me to believe that it was not as bad as he has foreseen.

At parties David did not know what to do with his hands so he took up smoking. When he recalled that for me over 40 years later he spoke of it disdainfully – he regretted his youthful folly and looked on his former behaviour with disdain. When he had smoked people were only just becoming aware that tobacco is injurious to the health.

David does not state what class of degree he took. This is probably modesty again.

TEACHING

David taught at Haberdasher Aske’s School. It is now officially named Haberdasher’s. Mr. Aske who founded it made his money from servitude. The school is commonly called Hab’s and is situated in Hertfordshire – just north of London.

After Hab’s, David taught at Churcher’s College in Hampshire. It was a county that he was to remain associated with for decades.

David was received into the Catholic Church. He was considering whether he had a vocation.

D.PHIL

David returned to Oxford to take a doctorate. It was on Edmund Bouverie Pusey. Born Edmund Bouverie, he was from a landholding family in Oxfordshire. The Bouverie’s were French Hugenots who had come to Great Britain after the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685.

Edmund Bouverie went to Eton and then to Oxford. He rose to become the Regius Professor of Hebrew at Oxford. A regius professorship is one founded by the monarch and there are very few of those. He was an Anglican who joined the Oxford Movement. He later added Pusey to his name. His family were the most notable inhabitants of that Oxfordshire village. It is not to be confused with Pewsey in Wiltshire.

Pusey House in Oxford is for the Forward in Faith Movement. This is a party in the Church of England that rejects women priests. It is for Anglo-Catholics. They are Catholic in every wise except for papal authority.

David later published his thesis as a work of popular history – Young Doctor Pusey.

ROME

The Catholic Church finally decided that David could enter a seminary. As the cream of the intake he was sent to the Venerable English College in Rome. He was 34 when he arrived. There he spent 6 years.

All the lectures were in Latin. The Second Vatican Council had only just closed. Modernisation was sweeping through the Church. Not everyone liked it!

The regime at the English College was almost military. They had to rise very early for prayers. They had to wear their seminarian’s uniform. Despite some of the students being in their 30s these men were not allowed out after a certain hour.

Despite the priesthood being about obedience, David was a rebel. He went against the rules and he dined in the houses of Italian friends.

Tony Battle was another seminarian there. He became a close friend of David’s. Indeed, David dedicated his autobiography to him. Toby was committed to helping society’s poorest. David joined him on some of Toby’s outings to distribute alms. Toby was of left wing opinions. David had a similar inclination. There is no reason to believe that the friendship was anything other than platonic.

In Rome, David met two students who were later to become the Archbishop of Westminster. One was the 6’3’’ Cormac Murphy O’Connor. The other was Vincent Nicholls. They were both good looking and presentable. For the laity they were relatable.

So many priests of that generation were odd bods – refugees from mainstream society. Some were young men in a hurry to be old. Some were reactionaries. Others were autistics. There were mothers’ vocations. These were men who entered the seminary because their mothers wanted the unparalleled honour of being the mother of a priest. She would decide that the only woman good enough for her son was the Virgin Mary.

David mentioned the lengths to which the college went to avoid homosexual relationships developing. Seminarians were told to go in groups of three at least. If two young men spent too much time alone they might develop a romantic attachment. In the evenings they sat in circles of around ten on tables. No one was permitted to sit on the same table two nights in a row. Again this was with the purpose of averting any intimacy. David did not say whether or not this succeeded in its aim.

In Italy, David became a friend of a male Italian doctor. It was with him that David went up into the mountains one snowy day and located his brother’s grave. His brother had been killed 25 years earlier. The Italian family declared that David was now a member of their family.

After a few happy years in the Eternal City, David graduated. He returned to the United Kingdom.

PRIESTHOOD

David went to Portsmouth. It was there that he was ordained. He worked as a curate in that diocese for many years. His stipend was tiny. He seemed to spend most of it on other people.

The parish that David was allotted to had a lot of deprivation. He did Trojan work amongst junkies, the homeless and prostitutes. He was ever mindful that they were all beloved of God.

In the 1980s he visited Rome at least once. He met Pope John Paul II.

David was keenly aware of the frailties of his brother priests. Some were self-regarding, some were selfish, others were oafish and some were spiteful. He recognized them as being all too human. If David had a flaw it was being too good and too compassionate.

BACK TO OXFORD

Whilst an undergraduate David had been in awe of the Catholic chaplain. He was staggered that he was made chaplain. He had a superb connection with the undergraduates. David did not take to many of the dons.

ETON

I first saw David Forrester in the summer of 1996. I recall one Saturday rowing up to Queen’s Eyot. Eyot means a little island in the Thames and only in the Thames. Eyot is sometimes spelt ait. In either case it is pronounced like the number eight.

I saw Fr. Knott and Fr. Forrester stepping out of a car in the car park across the river. They crossed onto the island by bridge. It was the first time I ever set eyes on David. He was to make such an enormous difference to my life but I had no idea about that back then. David was only 5’4’’ and physically unprepossessing. He was of medium build. The priest seemed serious and faintly nervous. He was about to take on a major responsibility. It was because he was so earnest that he was a little anxious. But this serious demeanour was not what he was like at all as I was soon to discover.

David was invited to say mass for the Catholics of Eton. Fr. Peter Knott SJ was due to retire.

Fr. Knott was then 73 years old. But he seemed more like 100. Fr Knott was rubicund, kindly, tubby, slightly ineffectual and deaf as a post. He was Santa Claus without the beard. His deafness was no doubt attributable to having been a Royal Artillery officer in the Second World War. The Jesuit was a thoroughly decent man but no longer connected with adolescents. His homilies were read essays. He had missed lesson one of public speaking. He never once attempted eye contact with us.

Perhaps one of the reasons by Fr. David Forrester chose to take over the role of Catholic Chaplain at Eton was that he was an outspoken admirer of an Old Etonian priest: Monsignor Ronald Knox. Knox had been raised an Anglican just like Fr. Forrester. Knox had made the same painful journey to Roman Catholicism. Even more controversially, Knox had been ordained in the Church of England before becoming a Catholic. He wrote a memoir of his time at Eton and how it eventually led him to embracing the Church of Rome. Monsignor Knox is said by some to be among the best stylists in the English language.

I am unsure if we were told that Fr. Forrester would be taking over next term when he said mass for us that summer half. He took to the podium in Upper School and said mass. He was only 10 years younger than Fr. Knott. Despite being white haired, David Forrester seemed two generations younger than Father Knott.

David struck me as sincere, energetic and emotionally intelligent. His homily mentioned having been a chaplain at a girls’ school years before. He said he would ask them in the run-up to the summer hols if any of them were due to go to Italy. A few would murmur yes. Then he would say that no doubt a few would have romances with Italian boys. He told them what to make of it if the boy said ‘’te amo.’’ It was a homily about love. It really was the theme of his life. David was a man with an incalculable capacity for love. He was the most giving person I have ever known. Nothing was too much trouble. He was as self-sacrificing and as magnanimous as can possibly be imagined.

It says much for his preachments that almost 30 years later I remember this. I can scarcely remember a world that good old Father Knott said in 3 years of homilies.

In the Michaelmas Half of 1996 Fr. Forrester moved to Eton. He had formally taken over from the very first Catholic Chaplain that Eton had had since the reign of Mary Tudor.

The Catholic Chaplain’s Flat is above Old Christopher. The building on Eton High Street has that named because of the Christopher Inn operated until the mid-19th century when the railways came and the need for coaching inns disappeared.

Ironically, Fr. Forrester’s one bedroom flat was down the corridor from the Pop room. Pop is officially named the Eton Society but no one calls it that. Poppers are member of Pop. They are what most schools would call prefects. The outgoing Pop elect the incoming Pop. Poppers are usually sports stars and command the respect of their peers. They are more or less crowd control for large gatherings of boys. They are allowed to come up with their own colourful waiscoats – all are individual. They were spongebag trousers with a houndstooth check.

Despite Pop being the police for the boys a popper can seldom boast as a copper is supposed to – I never drink on duty. The Pop room was full of overflowing ashtrays, empty beer cans and porn videos. It is a den of iniquity. As I say they are chosen for the kudos they have among the boys and not for being angelic. But the respect in which their peers hold them enables them to order others about.

I was up to Fr. Forrester for history. He taught us upstairs in Warre Schools – in the classroom on the right as you look at the building from the front. The desks were arrange in a hollow square. His hair was totally white and slightly thin. I had no idea that he had once had red hair. His hair never changed length – he must have had very regular haircuts. He was always flawlessly turned out.

I was in a class of second raters. Despite being a historical obsessive I had missed an A* in GCSE.

David began to teach us in his gentle tenor’s voice. It was an eminently listenable and lively voice. His timbre was faintly camp as were his movements. If I had had to guess at his sexuality I would guess a repressed homosexual. I did not guess at the time. In fact, the only romantic relationship he ever had was with a young lady when he was 17. But I did not discover that until after David died.

Fr. Forrester was courteous, soft spoken and in fact soft. David was unscary and not authoritative. But Etonians are well brought up and their captiousness has its limits.

The other boys asked him provocative questions.

Nick Small said, ‘’Sir, do you believe all Protestants will go to hell?’’

‘’Of course not’’ he said seeming faintly worried by the question.

I wish his riposte had been, ‘’No, only you Nicholas.’’

David taught us about the French Revolution. I knew a bit about already. But the Necklace Affair and Cardinal de Rohan were news to me.

He gave us fact files and asked us to think about how we would get the measure of a historical figure. He told us about Louis XVI being an amateur locksmith.

The most valuable thing that David taught me in history is that we must ask about a historical figure: what makes him tick? It was an extremely valuable question. The same applies to everyone. About a new pupil I always ask the parents: what motivates her? It is the vital question to ask about anyone? Is he or she intrinsically or extrinsically motivated? Does she want to pass a certain exam get into a particular school, get a medal in a sport, get elected to something, do the best for her children, be recognized for her beauty, to find love, to make money, be thought clever, make people laugh, win admiration for her intellect, be left alone, publish novels or what? What makes her tick?

David produced an imaginary character and had a fact file for him an army officer whose political affiliation had been Conservative and was now New Labour. This being the height of Blair mania – just before the 1997 election.

I recollect his exact words about Louis XVIII saying, ‘’I would rather hew wood and draw water than rule like the English king.’’

In the run-up to trials (internal school exams) David gave lectures on a topic. There were these extra lectures so we could get select trades – i.e. the top ones. I went to the Eliot Schools Lecture Room to hear him speak. His topic was the Oxford Movement. I had not heard of it before. He said it was a vast subject. He described the various factions in the Church of England. He spoke of the iniquities and inequities of pluralism i.e. a priest holding several parishes and collecting the salaries for all of them and paying a much lower salary to other priests to do the work. David also expostulated the Tracts and the seminal one – Tract XC or ‘tract ninety’ as it is pronounced. He explained that this is why the Oxford Movement is sometimes known as the Tractarians. Little did I know at the time I was having the privilege of hearing from a world authority on this subject.

David recommended Dover Beach by Matthew Arnold for a taste of the religious spirit of that epoch. I read it. Of course, David would have known that beach as we went to school there.

The novel Barchester Towers contains characters who reveal a lot about the Oxford Movement – so David informed us.

I later discussed Cardinal Newman’s Apologia pro vita sua with David. I still have not read the whole thing.

David marked my trials paper. I had unwisely answered a question on the romantic movement in a history paper. David later told me ‘’quoting lots of lines of Shelley at me is not going to get you very far.’’ I earned a medicore grade.

I once asked David why he became a Catholic. He said he wanted a 7 day a week religion and not a 1 day a week religion.

I only once ever saw David angry. In a div (lesson) of the boys said something cruel about another. David was instantly incensed.

‘’You are mistreating someone who is made in the image of God!’’, a vein wobbled on the side of his head.

He uttered those words ‘’the image of God’’ with the most striking sincerity I have ever seen.

I discovered by looking at fixtures that not only was Fr. Forrester an Oxonian he also had a D.Phil. 9 out of 10 beaks has been to Varsity. But to have a D.Phil. was rare. That made him one of the heaven born in my view.

David came across as being unsmiling at first. It was only later that he opened up. The warm and humorous side of him began to shine.

David was caring. I remember on Common Lane on one occasion I walked beside him.

‘Do you have friends?’ he asked me concernedly. Being an odd bod I was unpopular but I did have a few friends.

I was religiously obsessed. I heard mass every day in Lent. It was just me and him there in the antechapel of College Chapel. He said mass there daily usually just to himself.

Once I went to hear mass during trials. David was in his lay dress until he donned his sacerdotal vestments over them. He said mock gravely that people were praying because ‘’they hope their prayers will have retroactive effect!’’

I had never heard that term ‘retroactive’ before. I remember his very deliberate facial expression as he enunciated the word retroactive.

At Eton, David got the Newman Society going. It was named in honour of John Henry Cardinal Newman. Newman had been a doyen of the Oxford Movement. He had converted from being an Anglican priest.

The Duke of Norfolk came to address the society once. The duke was the foremost Catholic layman in the realm. I wrote it up for the Eton College Chronicle. The meeting took place in the august setting of Election Hall. At one point His Grace said the rule against contraception was imbecilic. He looked around, ‘’Where’s David? David’s gone.’’

I remember Ewan McCowen laughing at this. Presumably the priest had gone to wash his hands but the implication of the timing was that he found the topic of contraception so embarrassing that he had run away.

David told me the story of how he was headhunted for Eton. Catholic worthies phoning him up and asking him all sorts of questions without saying that they were sizing him up for a job.

I recall one chilly day walking along Common Lane and falling into conversation with David. I idly told him how I was wearing my old tailcoat and it was far too small. I took my arm out of my overcoat and showed him my how tailcoat sleeve was far too short. He was tickled pink.

David’s homilies were effectual. He had the prosody, the gravitas and the emotional vocal range that is required of an excellent preacher. Of course half the boys were indifferent to religion or even hostile. Some were half asleep and scarcely even mumbled the Nicene Creed.

Scanning the pews suspiciously David would ask rhetorically, ‘How many of us said our prayers last night? How many of us have been to confession in the last year?’ He was no naif and would have been painfully aware that in most cases our religiosity was lax or even non-existent.

Being a fervent Catholic at that stage I could honestly answer that I had. I strove not to be smug and say like St Paul had when he was Saul, ‘’as to the law I am faultless.’’

Some of David’s anecdotes I recall to this day. He spoke of addressing a public meeting. A youngish black lady entered the meeting a bit late.

‘’She had such a smile that it seemed with that smile she could get anything in the world’’, he said zestfully.

At the end of the talk she came up to David and spoke to him privately. She told him, ‘’I am an outcast in Uganda where I come from because I am divorced and in Uganda that is a total disgrace.’’

‘’Oh dear’’ said David sympathetically.

‘’Then I discovered that I have HIV’’ she said.

‘’Oh dear’’ David added nonplussed.

‘’Then I found out I was pregnant and I had an abortion because I could not raise a child when I know I have HIV’’ she said.

David was then stuck for anything to say. So he hugged the woman.

She said, ‘’you know you are the first person to touch me like that in a year.’’

It speaks volumes for his boundless love for others. He was a fountain of compassion and goodness even towards perfect strangers.

There were other heart rending tales. As soon as he was ordained a priest he was summoned to a hospital where a 17 year old boy was dying. He prayed with the boy only to discover that he was an orphan. David performed the funeral. No one came to the funeral. It made me reflect how fortunate I was.

At mass he told us how his brother had been killed in the Second World War. This gave me some sort of idea of David’s age. David also let slip that he had done National Service so must have been born by 1941.

Speaking about his brother David told us that in Italy he visited the grave accompanied by his Italian doctor friend. I distinctly recall him saying of his pal, ‘’he is now a successful paediatrician.’’

David’s faith was unlimited. When he spoke of Mary the Mother of God he would say the words ‘’Mary ever virgin’’ with an especial elan on the word ‘virgin.’

Never afraid to take on authority, David sometimes criticized the Church. He said the Church had been ghastly. Bricking nuns up for fornication – he said, ‘’no wonder there was a Reformation.’’

David treated us to other stories. He told us about his visit to Texas. He did a decent impression of a Texan accent and swagger. David did not like swank or those who blew their own trumpets. He simply had to take them down a peg or two. He was invited to address the symposium of 400 American priests. Then he told the Texan priests, ‘’I can understand why anyone would die for freedom. But why would anyone die for Texas?’’

At mass boys were given the duty to read the Bible aloud.

Van den Berg ma was reading from The Book of Exodus. The gobbet said, ‘’I am the Lord your God who took you out of the house of bondage, out of the land of Egypt.’’ Except he accidentally read it as ‘Eton.’ The boy flushed with embarrassment went back and corrected himself.

When people misspoke David never chided them.

Sometimes after mass I would be invited back to Father Forrester’s flat. He would never bring a boy there alone – always two or more. Perhaps this was for child protection reasons.

In David’s flat we would have sherry. He would also serve us nibbles. He explained that the head master said he had to give us something to eat however small when serving us alcohol. This was presumably so we would not get too drunk. Having us in inebriety before luncheon simply would not do.

These chats at his flat were an opportunity to get to know us.

On one occasion David said, ‘’we need to get George a girlfriend.’’

The chaplain was absolutely spot on. Female affection and validation is what I craved most and have craved ever since. But he did not act as a dating agency.

I subsequently found out that he later started to function as a dating agency. He honestly set boys up on dates with suitable girls! The inappropriacy of this, as it would now be seen, would be a barring offence. Of course he was simply making people happy.

It does not seem to have crossed David’s mind that a few boys might prefer a same sex relationship.

Whilst having drinks after mass in C Block there were a few boys from D Block there. I cracked a joke about David being short. The others chortled at this low blow. David scowled and said ‘’ha ha ha George’’ bitterly. He was too merciful to me for such insolence. But as time was to tell he was a moral giant and I was a Lilliputian.

I recollect going to his flat one Sunday after hearing him say mass and finding there was a young man from South Africa there. This chap was in his mid-20s and had known David at Oxford and David had invited him to stay the night in the flat.

‘’He slept there last night’’ said David emphatically pointing to the sofa.

It had not crossed my mind that the man had slept anywhere else. Looking back on it I suppose he was keen to allay any suspicion that David had had a physical encounter with this man.

David was not very authoritative. When someone in his flat was misbehaving and proposing to go into a room that was forbidden David said, ‘’Charlie, no!’’

The vehemence of the ‘’No’’ was noticeable. But the wayward youth still defied him.

I recall a boy two years below me suffered the death of his father. The boys was about 14 when this happened. David had a mass card for the deceased on his mantelpiece. He always showed the greatest and most genuine sympathy for those who were in mourning.

Curiously, despite being fond of David and growing to respect him immensely, it was while I knew David that I came to be an atheist. But this led to no diminution in my regard for the priest.

I was called upon to read aloud at mass one Sunday. I could not resist reading in an unmistakably scornful and sarcastic tone. I was pushing the envelope. David pretended not to notice. He never said a word to me about it. Was he too forgiving?

David was liked by everyone. No one had a bad word to say about him. Even anti-religious people were fond of him.

In C Block we were given a lecture about HIV. David delivered it. He spoke in a matter of fact manner about how this disease was transmitted. He had ministered to many people who had died of it.

On one occasion I bumped into David at school. He mentioned to me ‘’history that you are so good at’’. He turned away chuckling to himself – not that he was joking. It gave him such a thrill to boost someone’s self-esteem that he felt almost naughty. He radiated kindness and positivity.

I told David that I had been horrified to discover that someone I was close to had had an abortion some years earlier. What should I do to speak to her about it and try to persuade her to seek God’s absolution. He said, ‘’it is totally against the teaching of the church for her to do that’’ but he counseled me to ‘’choose your moment carefully.’’ I have still not chosen that moment.

David insisted on raising the standards of Catholicism. He insisted that boys sit a test before they went for confirmation. At the end of mass he read out some names and insisted that they remain behind because they had done ‘’rather abysmally’’ in their test. It was uncharacteristic of him to say such a thing.

I quipped to David that I would vote for him in the college one day.

‘’What college?’’ he said looking quizzically.

‘’In the college of cardinals’’ I replied mischievously.

He instantly brightened into a smile. I was suggesting he should become the pope.

David often befriended miscreants. He was forever pleading their case. He was not sectarian and he would intercede to save Anglicans as much as Catholics.

I recall his tale about meeting the Queen Mother. As in she was the mother of Queen Elizabeth II. The Queen Mother greeted David. David knew that people were not to say anything to a royal unless the royal spoke first. This was to prevent everyone trying to speak to the royal at once. But David broke the rules and informed her that he taught the page boy who held her train at ceremonies.

‘’I think he is a good boy’’, she said in a comically posh accent.

David laughed heartily at that – the boy concerned was one of the worst behaved in the school.

Her Majesty was amused, ‘’I only said I think he is a good boy’’ she said – realizing that David was chuckling so much because the youth concerned was an incorrigible reprobate.

I went off the rails in my last 18 months at school. I was too old for school.

I got blind drunk on one occasion and micturated on the Burning Bush. David heard the rumour. He came up to me on the street some says and told me what I had done. ‘’That was appalling George’’, he chided me but he could not hide his amusement either. He did not dob me in.

David was always trying to help out troubled and troublesome boys. One whom he took under his wing was the Honourable Tom Lumley. Lumley’s father was the Earl of Scarborough. Desite his lordly state, Tom was not in the least bit haughty and did not speak with a particularly posh accent. Tom was an Anglican but did this did not diminish David’s wish to help the boy one iota.

I got into big trouble in my last Michaelmas term. I was imprisoned on the private side of the house. Expulsion seemed certain.

Fr. Forrester was summoned. I confessed to him in the religious sense. He listened gravely – not looking at me. Yet was somehow sympathetic.

The Head Man was John Lewis. The New Zealander was known for taking a very long time to make up his mind. This worked in my favour. For most heads it would have been an open and shut case. The decision to expel would have been made instantly. But David’s intercessory efforts were crowned with success. David was an angel of mercy.

I visited David that December of 1997 when I was coming back from my Oxford interview. He was delighted to see me.

He said my prank was soon forgotten. Some F Blockers had gone back to their prep school and caused trouble and that became a bigger story.

I introduced my mother to David some months later. He had spoken to my father on the phone during the affair. Pater had joked to him ‘’are they building the gallows.’’

I was at first rejected from Oxford. I asked David about it. I wish I had asked him before my first application.

David said he would arrange for me to have luncheon with Fr Tom Weinandy. Weinandy was an American priest who ran Greyfriars. Greyfriars was a tiny permanent private hall of Oxford University. It no longer has any connection to Oxford University.

I went to Oxford one Sunday wearing a suit. I had hardly ever been there. This was long before the days of Google maps. I had the bright idea of walking to Greyfriars. It is on the far side of the city! If ever there was a time to splash out on a cab it was that day. My future was riding on that. I asked directions all the way. Somehow I managed to find it. I arrived an hour late for luncheon! I was so late he commented that I was supposed to arrive at 12:20. The only way to cope was to lie and say I thought it was 1:30 I was expected.

I still made a decent impression on the priest.

I asked David about it next day. He said Fr Tom had said, ‘’if that boy gets two A’s and a B we will take him.’’

Like an absolute idiot I did not take this easy way into Oxford. Such is the folly of youth! As it happens I got into Oxford anyway and to a far superior college. It is odd how right the wrong decision can be.

A few months after I left I was back to sort out my UCAS form.

Peter Mandelson was due to speak. I waited at the arch into Weston’s Yard.

David did not want me there. He jokingly said go away. Then he said let’s all kick George. He pretended to kick me.

I had a camera and suggested taking a photo of Mandelson. David told me not to so I did not.

Mandelson was then one of the most prominent cabinet ministers. He got out of his ministerial car and I shook his hands along with the others.

I went to the talk that Mandelson gave.

I met David again in Oxford in early 2003. He was very pleasantly surprised to see me.

I once heard a man in his 20s say he wanted to meet 17 year old girls at university. David chided him, ‘’you sound like a paedophile.’’

We discussed my housemaster Mr. Woodcock. Woodcock had stood down after only 6 years in charge of a house. 14 years is the usual term. He had been having an affair with the school nurse. This was setting an immoral example. He soon left the school.

David said ‘’I think Mr. Woodcock was ashamed’’ – he disliked everyone knowing what he had been up to.

Fr. Forrester also spoke about the new head master. He had introduced a rule whereby anyone caught smoking in the house was suspended first time and expelled for the second offence. When he told me this David put his left index finger across his upper lip in indication of a moustache and raised his right arm straight at a 45 degree angle for a derisory sieg heil – saying that the headmaster was a tyrant.

I went back to Eton for the Fourth of June in 2004. David was just about to retire. I rang the doorbell of his flat. He was in his dressing gown – about to have a shower. But we had a pleasant though brief chat.

AFTER ETON

David later worked at Woldingham School. He was chaplain but did not teach.

I was in email correspondence with David in 2007. I told him of my hair raising behaviour. He wrote, ‘’I hope you know what you are doing.’’

I should have written to him more in dark times.

In 2008 David fully retired.

I lost access to my email account in 2014.

In 2014 I went back to Eton. At the railway station I serendipitously saw David being accompanied by a young man. I was taken aback but elated.

‘’I know you but I do not remember your name’’, he said with flat affect.

It was the last time I ever saw him. How I wish I had taken his details.

In 2009 David penned his memoir. It is a book of lucidity and worth. There are some amusing episodes and poignant ones too. The book has pace and its lyricism rings out. I can hear David saying it. He has a gift for laying someone bare in but a few sentences. It was a revelation to see him describe some women as attractive. David was correct about the head master of Eton for most of his time: John Lewis. Mr. Lewis was gauche. One of his worst moments was when in School Hall Assembly he told B Block and C Block about how he went to the Tower of London to see the ceremony of the keys. There was a lack of emotional intelligence to Mr. Lewis. I thought it was a mildly interesting vignette but the delivery was clumsy and went down very badly with the hardened cynics who were the audience. He also related this tale in chambers to the beaks (teachers) who reacted similarly.

I later discovered that David had been in Abingdon in 2010. If only I had known. I was very close at the time.

David’s liberality remained undimmed. In Oxford one day he was wandering with a penniless young seminarian. David bought him a pair of shoes impulsively. He would do anything to make people happy.

CONCLUSION

David was the most loving person I have ever known. What a wonderful father figure he was. He was goodness itself.

David was totally committed to his vows. There was never a whisper about him ever doing anything immoral.

David was the most honourable person I ever knew. How I wish he could know how much I love him. I regret that I never hugged him.

I wanted to weep to purge myself of my grief for him. But when I read an account of his death it moved me to tears.

How I wish there is a heaven for him to go to.