For more than 40 years, my friend and mentor John Blatchly, who has died aged 82, was at the heart of historical activities in East Anglia.

Son of Albert and Edith, John became, after Cambridge and the navy, a chemistry teacher, but it was on being made headmaster of Ipswich school in 1972 that he developed an interest in historical studies, focusing first on the antiquarian topographers of Suffolk. They became his constant companions (and, some would say, role models) and unlocked for him countless doors to many further subjects. He would go on to publish extensively on heraldry, ecclesiology and bibliography.

His adopted county, Suffolk, found in John a powerful and effective champion. As chairman of the Suffolk Records Society for 25 years, he piloted more than 30 books through the press. He served as president of the Suffolk Institute of Archaeology and History for 26 years and was a founder member of the Friends of the Suffolk Record Office, spearheading the fundraising campaign to acquire the huge and important Iveagh collection of Suffolk manuscripts.

Under his long chairmanship of the Ipswich Historic Churches Trust, four redundant medieval churches were put to use again; he rescued the town’s 16th-century library and issued a meticulous catalogue; and, in response to his forceful initiative, the town acknowledged its celebrated son, Cardinal Wolsey, with a bronze statue. His passionate interest in Wolsey and his Cardinal’s College in Ipswich was reflected in John’s election in 2014 as honorary Wolsey professor at University Campus Suffolk.

Each part of John’s life experience was brought to bear on his historical activities. His pursuit and testing of a historical answer were conducted with the scientific rigour of a chemist; in his constant encouragement and nurturing of others’ interests, he showed all the empathy and tact of a good schoolteacher; in his determination to make things happen he used the tactical skills and firmness of vision of a successful headmaster. He had, moreover, an enviable memory, able to recognise an individual topographer’s hand from the briefest of inscriptions and summon up a mental pedigree on demand. His unflagging energy and output left all around him wondering how he had time to eat or sleep.

John is survived by his wife, Pam, whom he married in 1955, and his children, Mark and Janet.