Memorial Tribute

“The Captain…

             Wha-aat?!

             Can’t you hear him, up there somewhere, barking with embarrassment at the very thought of being talked about: “Paddy, you stchoopid boy! This is no job for a man!”

            Now ask yourselves: what exactly did the tall, devastatingly handsome and life-enhancing Captain mean to me? Why was he such an important figure in my life?

            To his family – beloved wife, Marilyn, four splendid sons – Dan, Dommie, Benno & Sam – and sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, Godchildren and grandchildren – of course, he meant the world. And, make no mistake, they meant the world to him.

             To his school pals at Winchester? I’m sorry, I have simply no idea, but I’m prepared to bet he was quite horribly popular and sporty. My guess is what he meant to them was: prowess, leadership and achievement.

            At the age of 18 he was doing National Service in Aden and stayed on in the army for a further two years, serving with the 13th/18th Royal Hussars in Aden, Oman and Malaya. The Captain was far too modest a fellow to tell exactly how he won a Military Cross for courage under fire, but you can bet he was quite foolhardily brave. It was absolutely his style to lead from the front… So, both to his fellow officers and the men he commanded, he meant respect, loyalty and always putting others before himself.

            Love, loyalty, integrity, trust, respect are words that followed the Captain around pretty much all his life, but perhaps most particularly during his 41 years as a publisher. From Abelard-Schuman in New York in the early ‘sixties to the glory, glory years – nearly four decades’ worth - first at Heinemann, then at Granada, then at Transworld, all the way through to his retirement in 2003 - and even beyond retirement, when he accepted the chairmanship of the Wade & Doherty Literary Agency.

            Loved and respected, not only by his colleagues, but by all his authors, as well as rival publishers, literary agents, and booksellers, in Britain and also in Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, India; indeed, anywhere where books are sold. But, most especially, America – he was, after all, half-American and had many, many good friends there, as represented today by Steve Rubin, President & Publisher of Doubleday New York, who has flown over especially to be here.

            The Captain cast a spell over pretty much everyone he encountered. If I were to name names, I’d be here all week. His was a publishing career full to bursting with highlights. He had a remarkable eye for a bestseller and he published a whole heap of them. He was a man of tremendous enthusiasms and unswerving loyalties. But woe betide anyone – and there were a handful - who incurred his displeasure …those gimlet eyes, that quickset jaw… [shudder] To the rest of us, the vast majority of us, he meant, he was, purely and simply, The Captain and we loved and respected him in equal measure.

            His other great passion was for the Company of Merchant Taylors. Of all his many achievements, I suspect he was most proud of having been Chairman of Governors at St John’s Preparatory School, owned by the Company. Only illness prevented him from taking his rightful place as Master of the Company.

            It would have delighted Mark to have known that the All Weather pitch at St John’s, which was very much considered during his time as Chairman, was opened officially yesterday by the Lord Mayor who is with us today. To the Merchant Taylors he meant responsibility, wise counsel, and dedication to duty.

             And, of course, as much as we’d like to forget it, we cannot, he was unwell for the last ten years of his life. Struck down most suddenly and cruelly by an affliction that would have poleaxed mere mortals, time and time again the Captain fought it off. He just couldn’t bear the thought of letting the side down. Watching him on his return to Frankfurt one year, all puffed up, almost beyond recognition, was one of the most extraordinarily moving sights… And I wasn’t the only one with tears in my eyes as he fronted up to old friends who had failed to recognise him. That familiar, warm, comforting voice cutting through the silence: “Don’t worry, it’s only me…”

            The doctors and nurses who looked after him at Northwick Park and St Thomas’s admired and respected him too. To them, he meant bravery, determination and good humour, even through the darkest hours.

            The Captain was a good man, a kind man – most especially to the young, the up-and-coming – generous, both with his time and his advice, a gifted man, an inspirational man…but we know all that: It is why we are here.

            But we should celebrate the devil in him too: Captain Gregarious, Captain Party Animal, Captain Fleet o’ Foot (let’s go dancing, whaaaat? a Captain-esque cry that crossed and re-crossed oceans many, many times); Captain Laughter, Captain Luddite – he could never get the hang of modern technology. There’s a wonderful story of him standing over a copier, barking: “how do you send a fax on this thing?!”; Captain Dazzler, with the features of a Greek god who made women (and doubtless a few men too) go weak at the knees (even, on one occasion, a dog called Mabel. I remember Jilly Cooper calling me at Transworld – the Captain was with her down in Gloucestershire editing the latest novel – and saying “Darling, I think Mabel has fallen in love with The Captain. She just won’t stop staring at him!”); Captain Cut-a-Dash, Captain Dapper – always impeccably turned out; why, even his shorts had creases! He divided people into two distinct categories: drains and radiators. Most assuredly, The Captain was a radiator.

            To this, a mere précis of a richly-textured, well-lived life, please add your own memories of a remarkable and very human being – and smile. You, we all, were privileged to know him.

            The Captain, more properly known as Mark Baxter Barty-King. Born London, 3rd March 1938. Went down fighting, 25th March 2006.

             May he dance forever in our hearts.”

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The tribute was warmly applauded by those present.