English teachers divide into two distinct types: stuck up elitists and crowd pleasing egoists. The former will colonise some remote territory of English Lit - say, Caroline Comedy - and then savour it among a few specially selected sherry-sipping students. The latter regard the treasure of our literary heritage as a branch of the light entertainment industry. David could not be squeezed into either category. He enjoyed scholarly banter, remained self- effacing and was as happy to teach rogues as he was to inspire saints.
We shared senior school sets for many years. David did not become dehumanised by the wear and tear of daily doses of illiteracy and ignorance. On the contrary: Westminsters, many of whom seemed destined to a fate of booze, fags and merchant banking, became more civilised, more curious, more involved, more literary. Odder still, the sets that David taught were invariably more polite; at times, people even listened to one another.
David's taste in books tended towards the metaphysical. He liked big books with big themes: Chaucer's The Knight's Tale, King Lear, Wuthering Heights. He also liked books that were open and refused to force conclusion. For this reason, Milton, with his ironmongery of judgements and certainties, was a low priority. David's religious apprehension of the universe did not include the notion of God as moralising detective inspector.
Of course, David had his little foibles. It's said that, despite his self-evident modesty, he was inclined to read all the parts when Shakespeare was studied. No doubt this was because he could not bear to hear blank verse mauled. But can it really be true (as one pupil claimed) that he played both eponymous roles in Antony and Cleopatra?
It was a privilege to work beside David Summerscale for all those years. He would throw out a remark or insight which, if attended to, supplied a week of lessons. Underneath the distracted and quizzical facade, David thought about literature with a passion. The force of his intellect was such that it was 'nowhere to be seen, but was everywhere apparent'. His students will miss him. So will I.
Gavin Griffiths (Head of English, 1988-1996)
David and I arrived in Westminster at about the same time and in many ways have shared similar experiences. First of all, both of us had to live for a little while in the shadow of our predecessors, yet convinced that we did not need nor ought to attempt any kind of imitation. Certainly David's 'style' is very much his own. The phrase 'laid back' could almost have been invented with him in mind. Others have probably seen him ruffled or indeed wrong- footed, but those moments must be collectors' items.
Yet that seemingly languid and relaxed attitude does not tell us all about this man. I apologise if I use a morning in Abbey as the moment when I saw the full David revealed. Obviously, I've heard many sermons from that pulpit but none has remained with me so vividly (not so much for its content or even detail, as for style, atmosphere or - dare I say it? - spiritual power) as David's opening of term address based on Bruce Chatwin's Songlines.
We are all getting increasingly bored by the suggestion that these last years have been more a decade of change than any other period this century. None the less, it cannot be denied that David has needed to guide the School in times in which fresh developments in educational matters have come thick and fast. Speaking only for himself, this Governor has been constantly grateful for the way in which these often complicated matters have been explained, and very obviously coped with, by the Head Master. Here an obvious example must be 'the League Tables', which are not going to go away, but surely do need to be approached in David's indulgent yet critical style.
The Head Master is always a significant and senior member of the College of St Peter; he needs to wear his scarlet cassock with pride and never with a hint of indifference. David Summerscale has always done that, so that he, Pauline, Emily and Tristan have been valued members of that community which is the College. They will be missed, and our best wishes and our prayers go with them into what, I am sure, is going to be the next exciting stage in life.
Donald Gray
Canon of Westminster Abbey and Governor of the School