A Tribute to Rupert Hambro 1943-2021
Rupert Hambro CBE was a knight in shining armour. Official obituaries write of a grandee, scion of a banking dynasty, and establishment figure. He was all of those things, but his serene manner and well-cut suits hid a man who was the ‘first feminist.’ He was a believer in female entrepreneurs, when those two words were rarely put together.
I well remember going out to lunch with him in 2010, in desperate need of career advice, having been made redundant by the Board Search firm where I had been employed for barely a year. He casually dropped a bombshell into the conversation:
Rupert Hambro in conversation with old friend Nicholas Soames in Armourers’ Hall
Rupert Hambro CBE was a knight in shining armour. Official obituaries write of a grandee, scion of a banking dynasty, and establishment figure. He was all of those things, but his serene manner and well-cut suits hid a man who was the ‘first feminist.’ He was a believer in female entrepreneurs, when those two words were rarely put together.
I well remember going out to lunch with him in 2010, in desperate need of career advice, having been made redundant by the Board Search firm where I had been employed for barely a year. He casually dropped a bombshell into the conversation: “Let’s start something together.” I said he should start it with someone more experienced. Rupert ignored the self-destruct answer and briskly told me to go off and put together a business plan.
His skill lay in spotting potential where it was least obvious; in my case a widow with a 10-year-old boy and few prospects of being hired by another headhunting firm.
A decade later, Robinson Hambro has not quite grown to the size of JO Hambro – Rupert’s first venture with his father and brother on the back of a larger family split. He kindly never held it against me, but it is a decent boutique business which owes its very existence to him. He loved the Robinson Hambro dinners at home in Chelsea, with wide-ranging guest lists, from CEOs of FTSE-100s to youthful environmental campaigners, to a captain of England’s rugby team.
He was hugely supportive and kind to all young people and drew energy from them. That was why his last major enterprise, a partnership with Dominic Perks in venture capital firm Hambro Perks, suited him. Mentoring young entrepreneurs like Devika Wood, who set up care specialist Vida, or Shahzad Younas, who set up Muzmatch, a Muslim match-making app with 3.5 million members, kept him buzzing with the creative potential of youth and business.
Rupert had no truck with hierarchy. I well remember sitting in a roomful of senior lawyers with him, all of them clad in pomposity and unctuousness. He asked the opinion of the junior in the room. And properly listened. In the words of another young man, Philip Palumbo, who knew him all his life due to Rupert’s friendship with his father, Lord Palumbo, “He was the most charming, curious, intelligent, interesting and loyal person I had ever met.”
Rupert and wife Robin were interviewed last year by the Worshipful Company of International Bankers at the Walbrook Club as part of a series on London’s power couples. American-born, Robin moved from London Editor of American Vogue, to set up corporate sponsorship fundraising at the Royal Opera House, and then to Christie’s Fine Arts and Board roles in the art world before her final incarnation as a painter. What was the secret to reaching their 50th wedding anniversary? “Good manners,” said Rupert in his honeyed tones, with a lift of a legendary eyebrow.
He always had a lovely turn of phrase. And his manners were legendary. Martin Taylor, Chairman of RTL and former Bank of England FPC External Member, once said that if everyone had Rupert’s manners, the world would be a better place.
I shan’t end this obituary to a dear friend with an endless list of his Chairmanships and Directorships, but with a tale told by another son of a friend of his. Damian Hoare, who runs Oliver Hoare Ltd, an art dealership of legendary artefacts, tells this tale of Rupert’s visit to the 2017 exhibition Every Object tells a Story:
“As we walked around, he asked me the price of an object. ‘150’ I replied, to which he said ‘I’ll take it!’. He then continued around the room and at each price he said ‘I’ll take that too!’. I couldn’t believe my luck. He continued to ask prices, to one of which I replied ’that is 20,000’. At which point he stood bolt upright, looked at me in complete disbelief and said ’20 thousand? Did you say THOUSAND? TWENTY THOUSAND POUNDS?! No no no that’s far outside what I’m prepared to pay.’ At which point I thought it might be an opportune moment for me to remind him he had spent upwards of 500,000 already. He took leave fairly soon after, and that was the last time I abbreviated a price for anybody, a lesson I hold dear to this day..!”