London's other man

True, the new Lord Mayor of London can point to the fact that his forebears were humble folk, who for generations raised sheep in the hills of Wales.

And like the real Dick Whittington he served as both an alderman and sheriff in the city of London.

But rags to riches his story most certainly is not, as anyone who carefully studied the Lord Mayor's Procession two weeks ago might recognise.

The glittering spectacle, which earlier this month saw 6,000 people including 2,000 servicemen and women parade three miles, is held to send the new Lord Mayor on his way to his swearing-in.

This year the 200 vehicles, 70 floats, 24 marching bands and 21 carriages were led by floats bearing a dragon and characters from The Wind in the Willows.

For as a tribute to the two Oxford independent schools where he was educated, the new London Lord Mayor invited pupils from the Dragon School and St Edward's, Oxford, to lead the procession on his big day. (The Wind in the Willows was to commemorate another St Edward's old boy, Kenneth Grahame).

As for the third float, that featured students from Jesus College, Oxford, where he read law.

Mr Lewis is still chairman of the governors at Dragon School, not far from his home in North Oxford where he and his wife Theresa, a teacher, live, at least at weekends.

For during the week, his elevated position as head of the City of London Corporation, means he lives in the splendour of Mansion House, one of London's most prestigious addresses.

The rule of London Mayor Ken Livingstone may run through the whole of Greater London, while the Lord Mayor's domain only extends to the famous Square Mile. But while City Hall, the striking rounded glass building on the South Bank, is home to Ken, the Lord Mayor has at his disposal one of London's grandest surviving Georgian Palaces.

Not that anyone should begrudge Alderman Lewis such an impressive London home over the next 12 months.

For as he heads back to Oxford every Friday night, he could be forgiven for reflecting that he certainly gives value for money. For it is a job that comes without pay, involves making about 900 speeches during the mayoral year, as well as entertaining about 80 prime ministers or presidents. It also obliges him to serve as Chief Magistrate of the City of London, Chancellor of City University and Admiral of the Port of London And as well as being financially independent, to become Lord Mayor means having already served as an alderman and for a year as Sheriff, another unpaid position, which means living in the Old Bailey for a year.

When we met, Mr Lewis was returning hotfoot from the Westminster Abbey service to mark the diamond anniversary of The Queen and The Duke of Edinburgh.

Two weeks into the job, the red robes of office seem to be sitting easily on this 60-year-old lawyer, who regards Oxford, rather than London, as his home town.

I wondered why he had decided to concentrate his energies serving the City of London Corporation rather than Oxford City Council?

Although as we sat in his sumptuous private dining room at Mansion House - as opposed to the vast function room where the Chancellor of the Exchequer delivers the keynote Mansion House speech every year - it somehow felt a little obvious why his current position might seem preferable to arguing about the rat population in Jericho sewers.

But it turns out that what he really enjoys about the City of London Corporation, the oldest local authority in the country, is the lack of political in-fighting.

"We do not have party politics. In fact, we are the only local authority in the whole of the United Kingdom not to have party politics. Opinions are not divided on party lines. We discuss things in order to achieve the best objectives for the City of London."

The Square Mile has also been a place close to his heart, since 1972 when he qualified as a solicitor specialising in corporate finance.

He joined the city firm Norton Rose as an articled clerk and was elected a partner within five years. He has been there ever since, overseeing mergers, acquisitions and stock exchange flotations.

He will tell you that he would have much preferred to have read history at Oxford University. But at the time it was easier to get in by reading law.

He had followed his father, 'Tiny' Lewis, to Jesus, the Oxford college that prides itself on links with Wales.

If David was fortunate in his own education, his father's background was far less privileged.

Tiny had broken the family tradition by turning his back on sheep farming after winning a scholarship to Oxford, where he was a rugby blue.

But even an Oxford education could not guarantee a glittering job around the time of the 1926 General Strike, and Tiny ended up spending 30 years working in the colonial education service.

David was born in Hong Kong and brought up in the Far East. When he was old enough, his father put him on a plane to the Dragon School.

He has continued to be closely involved in educational institutions at Oxford ever since, even borrowing his Lord Mayor's motto "Strive for the Sun" from the Dragon.

In recent years he has been a governor of both the Dragon and Oxford Brookes University, while he was prominent in fundraising efforts for sports facilities at St Edward's.

He was one of the first members of Oxford University Chancellors Court of Benefactors, created a decade ago, and a chair in the law faculty was endowed by Norton Rose when he was chairman.

These days he is having to limit himself to consultancy work, while he gets on with the job of promoting the Square Mile as the world's leading international financial business centre.

As the City of London's main ambassador, he is scheduled to visit 22 countries this year.

After Downing Street, his front door is the one that the limousines carrying foreign heads of government head towards.

"We have just entertained the prime ministers of Sweden and Slovakia. That's two prime ministers in a week," he said.

In a few weeks' time, the new Lord Mayor will be entertaining guests from closer to home. For he will be bestowing the Freedom of the City on the chancellors of Oxford's universities - Lord Patten and Jon Snow (who was in the same class as him at Teddies) - the Lord Mayor of Oxford, John Tanner, and his old friend, Hugo Brunner, the Lord Lieutenant of Oxfordshire.

All can now look forward to being able to drive sheep across London Bridge.

While we were on the subject of friendship, I wondered how Mr Lewis was getting on with the mayor down the road. For anyone would be hard pressed to find two more different characters - one being a black labrador man, the other strictly newts; one steeped in city takeover bids, the other in municipal socialism; David oozing Oxbridge charm, Red Ken, a working-class Londoner with a devastating wit and an acid tongue.

While Mr Livingstone is London's first elected mayor, Mr Lewis can point to being 680th Lord Mayor, with the office dating from 1189. (The Lord Mayor is elected by an assembly known as Common Hall, made up of liverymen and various high officers of the city).

"We get on very well and have great respect for one another," said the Lord Mayor. "He is a politician and I am not. He is always a delightful dinner guest and really the most amazing after-dinner speaker."

And, no doubt, Mr Livingstone will thoroughly approve of the two charities he has chosen for his Lord Mayor's Appeal: Wellbeing of Women, the organisation dedicated to solving health problems that solely affect women, and ORBIS, the blindness prevention charity.

The City of London runs its own police force, and security will be another major preoccupation of the Lord Mayor, who will receive regular police briefings.

Mr Lewis knows all too well the target the City represents to terrorist groups.

The offices of his company were destroyed in the 1993 Bishopsgate bombing, when a massive bomb ripped through the heart of the City of London, killing one and injuring more than 40.

Although he has a full year to go, he is already considering a life away from the City. But it is unlikely to be rooted in Oxford's academic heartland.

He has long had an interest in a hill farm in Carmarthenshire, run by his cousins, and took pride that the banquet he recently hosted, attended by the Prime Minister, was probably the first one where guests ate meat raised by the Lord Mayor himself.

It is his intention to eventually retire to Wales.

"One wouldn't really have envisaged the grandson of a Cothi Valley sheep farmer getting to the position I'm in," he said.

But that's what an Oxford education can do for a man.