It is not surprising that Tony Swayne, who was obsessed with history, great at writing, good at fixing things, enthusiastic, fun and whimsical, ended up working at Drummonds for the later part of his life.
 
John Anthony Swayne was born on 20th August 1933 in Southampton, his father was in the army and died when Tony was eight, after which he was evacuated to the New Forest due to the war, and on leaving boarding school he turned down a place at RADA and eschewed an acting part in Rawhide. Both the RADA and Rawhide stories were, as those who knew him would confirm, quite likely to be utter fiction, and although there is a distinct lack of corroborated evidence about Tony's life, many anecdotes are undoubtedly true.
 
He joined the army reaching the rank of major, went to Africa, and ended up in Australia on a secret mission.
 
David Cox of Drummonds writes, "He was just a young lad during WW2 and grew up in the New Forest with two sisters, (one living in Australia now and the other near Guildford now). He joined the army and was an officer in a mounted unit in Nigeria - not sure if it's true but I remember him saying one of the duties was chasing slave traders. He spent time in Australia too, where he had something to do with war game type strategic planning for submarine tactics - not sure if it was hush-hush or not but I think he stayed on afterwards and was there long enough to build a house somewhere far from civilisation.
 
"Back in the UK he had a few different jobs, one of which was selling cars but I first met him working at Drummonds in Bramley in the 1990s by which time he was working a short week in sales though I think he started with Drummond doing PR and marketing - he was a good writer and had stories published promoting the architectural antiques business.
 
James Walker, formerly of Drummonds and now of Mongers, writes, "At Drummonds, Guy when very poor borrowed a Ferrari to get to work on strict instructions not to damage it. He parked it in the car park and while he was busy working Tony moved it into the field at the bottom of Bramley. It took Guy some time to find it and several years to see the funny side!
 
"He used to tell many stories of Jim Clark and others racing down the Hogs Back and skidding to a halt between the petrol pumps. He told many stories against his boss at the garage.
 
"He was always seeing antiques in a different light, making a cat flap for the yard Jack Russell out of a window, or inventing possible provenances with no evidence, just its apparent age.
 
"He loved an audience and was good at selling but had a tendency to oversell. Just his way of entertaining. Whenever he answered the phone to a recorded message he would say in a loud voice, "F off, we don't want customers like you" just for the benefit of the office. We were not always sure there was no-one on the other end. He would always tell you it was your best customer!"
 
David Cox continues, "He was very fond of practical jokery - and had a habit of phoning the office putting on funny accents to disguise his voice and asking silly questions - Drummond will tell you he had him fooled on occasion - though after a while I cottoned on to the fact that if there was a call that was particularly odd that it was 99% likely to be Tony. At the wake several people commented that he was a practical joker - I don't think anyone was out of bounds.

"At an army reunion of some sort in London a few years ago attended by Charles and Camilla, he told me when it was all over and thinking Charles needed cheering up and about to leave the room, Tony had a great patriotic urge surge through him and clicking his heels and standing to attention shouted out something like, "Three cheers for the Prince of Wales", which took everyone, including Charles, totally by surprise. As Tony told the story everyone was quite shocked - but apparently Charles was graciously appreciative.

"I remember one of his favourite oft repeated lines was, 'As I was saying to your wife in the bath today'. I remember one of his jokes along the same lines (appropriated no doubt) - about a beautiful woman wearing a fur coat and nothing else, who knocked on the front door of an elderly gentleman, and when he opened it and asked what she wanted, she flung her coat open wide and said to him, "Super sex", and the man answered, "I'll have the soup please!"
 
"He met and married his wife Carmel, and had two sons and a daughter (one son died a few years ago which was quite a blow to them both) and also had great grand children."
 
Tony Swayne became a Catholic late in life, after much argument according to the priest, and made a large wooden cross for use on Good Friday at his new church St Joseph's, Guildford, where a requiem mass was held in celebration of his life on 25th July 2014.
 
A notice in the Daily Telegraph stated: Tony Swayne, died peacefully, July 8th 2014. Beloved husband of Carmel, father to Surrey, Crispin and Geraldine; grandfather to Carla, Isabelle, William, Jago and Jackson; and great-grandfather to Lewis and Ben.
 
[With thanks to David Cox and James Walker
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Tony Swayne wrote many letters and stories in SalvoNEWS, from 1992 onwards. Here is a selection:
 
Letters to the Editor:
Dear Thornton, In your otherwise admirable edition of SalvoNews on Monday 19th October 1992 you mention a George Jennings 'Thunderbox'. The name Thunderbox originated in India. The boxes were beautifully made by skilled carpenters using the most expensive woods. The floor of the commode was usually lined with copper, and a perfectly fitting, secure, trap-door at the rear allowed for the container bucket's regular removal. The fine tolerances involved in the construction of the lid and trap- door were to prevent the entrance of insects and snakes into the cool interior. District Officers toured with them annually, and I dare say the military's scornful reference to commercial people as 'Box Wallahs' had something to do with our subject. Bomb disposal officers will confirm that to contain an explosion serves only to exaggerate the report. The exposure of newly arrived soldiery in India to curry and boxes led to much ribaldry as one would expect. The expression Thunderbox quickly came home with the Army and stuck. Yours Aye, Tony Swayne, Drummonds of Bramley [sn27 29 October 1992
 
Letters to the Editor: Heavenly.
Dearest Chaps, I thought that this may amuse the rougher element of your readership. A rather dishevelled man and his younger assistant, covered in brick dust and cobwebs, marched up to the Pearly Gates and rang the bell. Saint Peter shuffled out of the gate house and greeted them apprehensively. "Good afternoon," he murmured, "can I ... um ... can I help you?" The elder of the two politely doffed his cap as clouds of dust enveloped the Barbour beclad pair. "Good morning to you sir," he coughed in his finest stockbroker belt accent, "a super pair of gates, mother of pearl, I'll be bound!" Saint Peter winced. "Pearl actually, only recently restored ... er may I ask if you two have an appointment here?" He enquired. Your man thrust a rough hewn jaw, with some fine Harley Street dental repair work, twixt the bars. "Sadly no," came the reply, "we're here to hand in our mess tins. You see, we were demolishing an Edwardian hotel in Brighton, rather delapidated, when to our surprise, the floor caved in. Jolly unpleasant. So we're here on an unexpected visit, you may say." Excusing himself, Saint Peter made his way up to the big house, and went directly to the study. God greeted him warmly. "More punters, Peter?" He asked. "I fear so, sir," Peter replied urgently. "These two are really tricky. They say they are architectural antique dealers, they are covered in dust too. Really, sir, we must draw the line somewhere. Only last week ..." God raised a hand to silence the agitated Saint. "Now, now. You know the rules, Peter," he remonstrated gently, "we do not discriminate, not even against architectural antique dealers. All are welcome here, whether or not they have complied to the letter of the SPAB recommendations. After all, are we not reclaimers ourselves?" Heavy hearted, Saint Peter retired. Minutes later, however, he returned in haste, puffing heavily. God looked up. "They've gone," Saint Peter gasped breathlessly, "they've gone!" "Gone?" God echoed sternly, "I do hope your attitude didn't turn the poor souls away Peter, you know how sensitive these dealers ..." "No! No!" Saint Peter interrupted, "The Gates - they've gone!" - Chuckling, Fld Marshall Sir A.C.O. Swayne KVSO, DTI, DoE and Bar Bramley, Surrey. [sn101 3 December 1994
 
Drummond Pot Repairs:
The hand of Tony Swayne of Drummonds of Bramley, was seen on BBC's Antiques Show showing how to stitch broken terracotta flower pots back together using old electric 30amp cooker cable, in the old fashioned way. Triffic! [sn166 28 May 1998
 
Correction:
A typographic error resulted in Mr Tony Swayne of Surrey being described as 'an aging erratic' in the last SalvoNEWS. The phrase should, of course, have been 'an ageless erotic'. We would like to apologise to Mr Swayne and proffer compensation of his choice for any incovenience or diminution of status which may have resulted. [sn186 17 June 1998
 
Letters to the Editor: Sacked.
Boldly they cross and recross old England. Heroic earthworks stretching back into mysterious pre-history. Saxon Kings used them to consolidate their power visually. Roman legions stormed them in vicious assaults, only to see them later used by their own Romano-British citizens as havens against the invading Celts. The Normans erected their baillie motte versions to conquer Saxons in turn. The people of England lived in respect of them, whether dolmen, rath, barrow, tumulus or mound. Whether megalithic, neolithic, bronze age, iron age, Saxon, Roman or Norman, they inspired the simple soul and encouraged the leader. Now, into the millennium, another formidable earthwork has arisen. From the north slope of England's oldest way, The Hog's Back, with wheelbarrow, horsepower, toil and sweat, Drummond Shaw's mound is done. An earthwork not unlike Maiden Castle, it rises sternly up, announcing its dominance to the observer. From the A31 it can be seen clearly, declared by all as befitting its surroundings. Now to the nub. Drummond had a wheeze that a decent sort of champagne party should take place on top of his erection. Plans were laid. Perfectionist that he is, no stone was left unturned to make this Drummonds Architectural Antiques' proud millennium event. Tucker and champagne were ordered and a venerable augur engaged for authenticity's sake. This worthy arrived in druid's costume to look over the mound. He declared it a marvel transcending the Dome itself. During the final discussions of the detailed as necessary formalities however, the learned gent was adamant that the absolute and crowning moment of consecration of a mound in Saxon times consisted of personal consummation twixt the King and his consort atop the monument in full view of his wildly-cheering subjects. We, of course, were all for this delightful tradition urging confirmations. Risking offence, but using his droite de seigneur, Drummond has cancelled the whole thing and withdrawn in some chagrin. What had seemed the PR event of 2000 has turned to ashes. Have any of your readers any sensible suggestions or alternatives to offer? Yours etc, Swayne of Drummonds [sn202 24 June 2000