Lord Rees

Sir Peter Viggers, MP, writes: I was Parliamentary Private Secretary to Lord Rees (obituary, Dec 4) when he was Chief Secretary to the Treasury. He had a remarkable command of language and in particular a coruscating wit. In the House of Commons his every sentence sparkled. His compliments were gracious; his attacks were devastating.

Two examples must suffice: “I ask through you, Mr Speaker, the Hon Member . . ., who is posing as the bare-throated defender of dockers’ interests, whether he has ever heard of Lord Shaftesbury.”

“I tell him, through you, Mr Speaker, that his speech was as usual a compound of arrogance, prejudice and ignorance, and the thinness of his case was barely concealed by the vulgar personal abuse to which he descended.”

Every contribution was delivered with courteous old-fashioned charm. As a friend and companion Peter Rees was marked by exceptional loyalty.

Mike Soper

John Whitwell writes: I knew Mike Soper (obituary, Dec 4) from 1985-99 during the period that I was principal of the Cotswold Community, a residential therapeutic community and school for seriously emotionally disturbed and antisocial boys. The school was situated on a 350-acre farm and Mike was an unpaid consultant to the farm and a member of the managing committee. He had a very clear grasp of the therapeutic benefits of the farm and fought for its survival when under threat of losing land to gravel extraction. Although his initial involvement was for his farming expertise, he became increasingly interested in the therapeutic work with the boys and the importance of education for their future prospects. He was an approachable person with a warm sense of humour.

Sir Bernard Feilden

Dr Rosamunde Codling writes: As the landscape architect for Feilden+Mawson in the 1970s, I had the privilege of working in the Norwich office with Bernard Feilden (obituary, Dec 2). He was perceptive and sensitive in many ways and a delight to be with. One summer we had a meeting in King’s Lynn in the late afternoon and Bernard inquired if he might have a couple of hours’ fishing at Castle Acre before we went home to Norwich. On the way to the river we were caught in a traffic jam and Bernard asked if I could take over the driving so that he could mend a hole in one of his waders. All in the stationary cars around us were then entertained by the sight of Bernard emptying the boot of his car, trying to find the puncture outfit, before taking his place in the front seat with the offending wader. When we reached the river we agreed a time to meet again and in different ways we both enjoyed a peaceful summer evening in the idyllic river valley of the Nar.