Simon STUART who was a teacher at the School between 1962 and 1977 died on 19th September 2002 after a long illness.

His son, Corin, writes:

"He was an English teacher at Haberdashers from 1962 or 3 until 1975 when he took a sabbatical to write his second book, 'New Phoenix Wings'. He had written his first book, 'Say' while still teaching. He returned to teach in 1976, but soon decided he wanted to devote his life to writing and left in Winter 1977. (I'm not 100% certain about these dates).

There will be a memorial service on 18th January 2003 in London (details below) which my father composed himself, including readings by friends (some of which are his former pupils); an address by Michael Thomas (also a former pupil), and music which he loved."

If you would like to send an email message to Corin, click here.

Address given by The Revd Mark Oakley, a close family friend and
Vicar of St Paul’s Church, Covent Garden on 1st October 2002.

"You may not be able to see, but I am blushing slightly. Simon did not want any pious extras at his funeral. He wanted the funeral service taken from the Book of Common Prayer with its simple, stark, beautiful resonances. Simon wanted other words to be reserved for a later memorial service. But you know as well as I do that people like Simon are never laid to rest easily. There is too much affection and admiration in the air; this love, respect and friendship needs to be captured here and given voice to and, with Simon’s family’s agreement, some things do need to be said before we lay Simon next to his father in the churchyard.

This churchyard, of course, is just a couple of miles away from where Simon was born and where he grew up, the youngest of four boys (the two eldest are remembered on the war memorial in this church). After Eton Simon went up to Trinity, Cambridge where he began to deepen his love of English literature, a love that lasted a lifetime. He was able to translate that love, and to generate it in others, through his gifts as a teacher. And it is for those gifts that so many have had cause to be thankful. Recent letters have made it clear: Simon inspired, encouraged, was charismatic as he led you deeper into the necessities of literature. His mind was a storehouse of quotations, and these remembered texts were not kept there to be used to show off but because they were a part of his understanding and his being. We are laying to rest a great teacher, a teacher and a writer, with an incredibly energetic, encyclopaedic, searching mind.

Simon was not just a person of ideas, though, he was a practical lover of the environment and the earth, well before others were, and his love of Windyridge and his remarkable vegetable garden, of the world’s life-forms from dragonflies, grasses and birds to spiders, bees and mushrooms, made itself known in detailed careful work as a naturalist. It seems only right then that Simon’s coffin has been made out of wood that fell in the estate, from larches planted by Simon himself. And it is to the earth that his body is committed.

Simon lived with much illness through his life, first falling ill in 1958. He spent years on dialysis and he was always so very grateful to all those who helped him stay alive and who looked after him when he needed it most, including those who worked with him at Windyridge. Special mention must be made, of course, of the donor of the kidney that gave Simon another 15 years of life and therefore a gift that reached out to the whole family. The donor and the donor’s family are very much in our thoughts and prayers today.

Simon always said that he couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing his children grow up and the transplant happily took away that fear. Everyone here knows how much Simon loved his boys, and how they loved him, and it is a great witness to their relationship that Simon’s loves and interests have become their own loves too. Indeed, those of us who know Thomas, Corin and Tristram know that Simon justly died a proud man, a proud father. And we surround them, and Deborah and Pat and his family, with our love.

Simon: loving, interested in people, Windyridge host, engaging, analytical, sometimes severe, widening the view onto Chaucer, Shakespeare, architecture, music, natural history, sometimes contradictory and difficult, but always alive with ideas and passions. A charismatic talented teacher, an environmentalist, a husband and father, a friend. Simon, during his National Service, served in Malaya and in one incident gave his water-bottle to an injured enemy soldier, and then helped him to rest. Simon always joked that this incident would get him into heaven. Simon believed that death was “one long dark sleep”. I hope that he will forgive this priest for one pious extra. It is a hope – that he sleeps now in peace where, in the words of John Donne, “ there shall be no darkness nor dazzling, but one equal light; no noise nor silence, but one equal music; no fears nor hopes, but one equal possession; no ends nor beginnings, but one equal eternity.”

Let us, then, lay Simon in the earth in peace."

Memorial Service 18th January 2003

The memorial service (composed by Simon) was held on Saturday, the 18th of January 2003 at St John's Wood Church, London

The program included music and readings by family and friends (many of whom are old Haberdashers or ex-colleagues) mostly chosen by my father (readers and readings).

The draft program was as follows

11.30am
Haydn Quartet Beethoven Op 132 Heiliger Dankgesang

Tristram Stuart A view from the Orangery by Simon Stuart
youngest son

Mikie Thomas Address
Ex-pupil Habs

Stephen Brook Ralegh – To Cynthia
ex-pupil Habs

Emrys Evans Lucretius – The Nature of the Universe
ex-colleague Habs

Corin Stuart Antony and Cleopatra IV xiv. 1-14
middle son

Thomas Stuart To be decided
eldest son

Will Allan Chaucer – The Knight’s Tale - The death of Arcite
ex-pupil Stowe?

Steve Haskell Wordsworth?
friend from Cambridge University

Jenniver White Proust – Time Regained
friend from Nursery school

John Mole Larkin Aubade/High Walls
ex-colleague (Habs?)

Pat C-S Yeats – The Curse of Cromwell
brother

Choir Purcell Music for the Funeral of Queen Mary
Female Alto

Robert Morton – Le souvenir de vous me tue