Underneath the Hazels: Unravelling the Past of C.F. Mott College

With the support of the National Lottery Heritage Fund, Knowsley Archives have been busy cataloguing, conserving and preserving the archives of C.F. Mott College that are stored in the ARK. This remarkable and innovative college had a campus that straddled the Huyton and Prescot border and at its heart was the Hazels, a stately 18^th century building that had been owned by, amongst others, members of the Pilkington family and is still standing. The college was named after a distinguished former Director of Education for the City of Liverpool, Charles Francis Mott.

The Hazels

Founded in 1946 in response to the national shortage of teachers following the end of the Second World War, C.F. Mott College would eventually go on to become one of the largest and most successful teacher training colleges in the country with a reputation for academic innovation. By the 1970s, the college was also offering degree courses in the arts, humanities, social sciences and science, before finally merging with Liverpool Polytechnic (which later became Liverpool John Moores University) in 1983.

Three students in a halls of residence bedroom, 1952

At first, the college was women-only and relatively small. In 1951 Dr. D.M. Farr replaced Miss Whiting as Principal and she would lead a rapid expansion of the campus, with additional buildings, sports and leisure facilities, as well as accommodation for students and staff. As the campus developed, student numbers increased and the social life of the students evolved. Dr. Farr would later write proudly of the “acquisition of a good dance floor [that] changed the whole outlook of college life.” She was keen to ensure that students from the University of Liverpool were invited to take part in activities at the college (and vice versa) so that social events received a new impetus. This enthusiastic encouragement of the students’ social and leisure life was regarded by Dr. Farr as “a welcome prevention of the ‘cosiness’ which can overtake a small women’s college.”

The student choir rehearsing, circa 1966

In 1959 the college became a mixed college and male students were admitted for the first time. This was another period of rapid expansion for the college, with new postgraduate courses being added to the curriculum and a surge in staff and student numbers.

As innovative as Dr. Farr appears to have been, college life during the 1950s and 1960s can seem strangely archaic to our modern eyes. Among the college archives are House Committee minute books that reveal the very serious and lengthy debates the staff would have about aspects of the students’ lives. Over the course of several years, from the mid-1950s to the early 1960s, the use of gramophones was a hot topic at House Committee meetings: how loud should they be (not very)? Should students be allowed them in their own bedrooms (can’t they just make do with the wireless and gramophones in the common rooms?)?

Even sunbathing was raised at the House Committee meetings. The sight of female students catching a few rays was resulting in “visitors being embarrassed” in 1956 and students were instructed to sunbathe only where there was no risk of them being spotted! Who these visitors were and why they were looking in the first place is never mentioned!

A student teacher with pupils, circa 1976

Another common debate that pops up time and time again in the House Committee minutes concerns the clothing students were allowed to wear. It is worth bearing in mind that, for much of its history, the college was purely a teacher training college, so students will have been working on placements in schools. For the college staff it was important that trainee teachers were perceived as smartly dressed and positive role models for children. However, it may come as a surprise to learn that this extended to what clothing was acceptable for students to wear at any time. In summer 1956, staff were reminded that no one should be wearing jeans. However, “special permission would be given to cyclists if they asked for it.” This debate would rumble on for the next few years with change only coming in 1960, when it was decided that new or clean jeans could be “presentable,” although old ones looked “scruffy and untidy.” It was agreed that smart jeans would, for the first time, be officially allowed…sort of: this change would only apply to male students!

Students playing pool, circa early 1980s

For female students, clothing restrictions would be more stringently applied for several more years. While men were strolling around campus sporting their smart new jeans, the female students were fighting for the right to wear slacks in the TV room. This was eventually allowed in 1960, but there remained a great concern about how female students were presenting themselves to the outside world and “apart from hiking and college expeditions, women students must not wear slacks outside college.”

Of course, the times they were a-changin’ and the college would become more and more liberal in its approach to student life, with late 1960s, 70s and 80s photographs in the archive showing both male and female students in jeans, slacks and all manner of clothing that would probably have appalled the House Committee of a generation before.

The traditions of constant evolution, expansion and adaptation that Dr. Farr had begun would continue with her replacements, Mr. Clarke (1965-1974) and Mr. Cane (1974-1983). The college had a number of minor name changes during its history and, following the addition of degree courses validated by the University of Lancaster, it became the C.F. Mott campus of the City of Liverpool College of Higher Education (COLCHE) in 1978. Within a few years, the college merged with Liverpool Polytechnic and the campus closed, but its expertise in arts and humanities would make a significant contribution to the Polytechnic’s fine reputation in these areas, maintained by the current Liverpool John Moores University.

Get in touch! We’re keen to hear from former college students and staff who would be interested in having their memories recorded for future generations or would like to deposit any mementos of the college with the archive.

Students relaxing on campus, circa early 1980s

An exhibition about the college will be at Kirkby Library from 14^th November 2019 – 31^st January 2020. A private view event will take place at Kirkby Library on Wednesday 13th November 2019, 6-8pm, and will be a chance to see the exhibition first and hear a short talk about the archive collection. Please note, this is an RSVP-only event. Please reserve your place by emailing daniel.copley@knowsley.gov.uk or calling Knowsley Archives on 0151 443 4291.

The Malayan Connection

“The most important thing about your stay in England must be the development of yourself as a more mature and far-seeing person. When you go home, as a graduate, you will be expected to work miracles – and only you may be aware how little you really do know – but you will have the means and the initiative to study further on your own and to adapt yourself.”

There’s a word I’ve removed from that statement above. Without it, many readers could assume the author was talking about graduates of a prestigious University, an Oxbridge one perhaps, or maybe an elite private school that churns out leaders of the future.

Margaret Hodge (right) with some of her students, 1953

The quote is taken from a notebook that belonged to Miss Margaret Hodge, an art tutor at the educational institution in question during the 1950s. The students she was preparing this address for had travelled to study in England from Malaya (which would later, in 1963, become Malaysia). During a ten year period, from 1952 to 1962, something like 1900 Malayans arrived to study a broad range of subjects. The students represented the multi-ethnic diversity of their country and many, like the products of England’s famous private schools, would indeed go on to be leaders of the future; as politicians, royalty, lawyers, and numerous esteemed professions that would mark them as pillars of their communities.

It’s the location of this remarkable, ground-breaking establishment that is missing from the extract above. The place that became a temporary home to some of Malaya’s brightest and best was the Malayan Teacher Training College in Kirkby, near Liverpool. It may still not be an internationally famous town, but to alumni of the college, Kirkby was the centre of a life-changing experience that would resonate across the world and ensure that the town would remain a symbol of innovation, transformation and hope. At the time the Malayan College was first opened, Kirkby was a small town, much of it still rural; a relatively small Lancashire community that few outside of the region would have been aware of. After the Blitz of the Second World War devastated so much of Liverpool, Kirkby would become one of the ‘overspill’ areas for the city as it embarked on a programme of slum housing clearance and establishing new out-of-city housing estates. The lifetime of the Malayan College coincides with the beginning of Kirkby’s rapid expansion into an urban town when the Lancashire accent would be edged out to be replaced by the very different scouse twang. You can hear some of the memories we hold in the ARK about this period on our Soundcloud page, including memories of rural Kirkby and interviews conducted as part of our Heritage Lottery funded work with Kirkby residents about the 1940s-60s in the town.

Students and staff at the Emergency Teacher Training College, 1948

Prior to the college taking over the site, the buildings which would accommodate the college had been used as the location for an Emergency Teacher Training College (a location which included the repurposing of a former hostel for the Royal Ordnance Factory during the Second World War). Like others set up around the country after the close of the War, Kirkby’s Emergency College, which opened in 1948, was a response to a national shortage of teachers and a much-needed way of providing men returning from the War with a qualification and career. By 1951, the college was closing down and the Malayan Government were invited to take over the site for their own Teacher Training College.

The impact of Kirkby’s Malayan College is truly remarkable. For students, it offered a high quality education, an international perspective and a sense of cultural awareness, with the reality of studying, living and socialising with Malayans of many different backgrounds seen as an ”opportunity to view and study the Malayan political and social scene with at least some degree of detachment.” (Panduan, the college magazine, July 1953). For the Kirkby residents and the schoolchildren and teachers who came into contact with the students, the college provided a rare chance to meet people from abroad and share in their culture; an experience that the students recognised as mutually beneficial. Perhaps the most significant thing about the college is its importance in international history. Regarded as a flagship example of Malaya’s ambitions for a harmonious society, it was fitting that, on 7th February 1956, Malaya’s Chief Minister, Tunku Abdul Rahman, chose the college, rather than a government building in London or Kuala Lumpur, as the venue to make the momentous announcement that the British colony was being granted independence.

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Former students of the Malayan College return to Kirkby, August 2017

Thanks to our Heritage Lottery funding, we have been able to explore the history of this fascinating, and often overlooked, part of Knowsley’s history. Staff and volunteers are busily gathering memories and memorabilia from local people who remember the college; many of whom have wonderful memories of being taught by the students from the college as part of their teaching placements. In addition, we have been extremely fortunate to develop strong links with the alumni association of the college – who refer to themselves as ‘Kirkbyites’ – and they have been very generous with their time and with donations of a wealth of superb documents, photographs, magazines and films relating to the history of the Malayan College. A highpoint of the project was a visit to Kirkby by almost 40 of the Kirkbyites and their families, travelling from all over the world, to help us commemorate the college with the unveiling of a plaque to mark the original location (now an area known as Granbourne Chase). The alumni, who were all septuagenarians and octogenarians, were fantastically energetic and their enthusiasm and affection for the college and Kirkby was infectious for everyone who was lucky enough to meet them. Whilst in Kirkby, they were also able to be the first to see our new exhibition, in Kirkby Library where the ARK is based, about the Malayan College. We were relieved that they gave it their seal of approval! The exhibition was at Kirkby Library until 31st October 2017. In this blog, I’ll give a very brief overview of our collections relating to the Malayan College and an idea of our exhibition for those of you unable to visit. You can also see the exclusive film we made to mark this project and the visit of the Kirkbyites at the bottom of this post.

The Malayan Connection exhibition in Kirkby Library

One of the largest collections relating to the Malayan College is the personal archive of Margaret Hodge. This includes lots of photographs and college-related documents, along with her own lovely artwork. Here you can find portraits of college students and her beautiful illustrations for a Malayan government commissioned children’s book, Tijah, Mat Dan Nor. Also amongst her papers are her notebooks that include draft lesson plans and points for discussion with students. Miss Hodge’s archive, alongside the many donations and memories we are gathering from local people and college alumni, help us to gain a much clearer understanding of life at the college and the huge impact that Kirkby and the college had. Some of Margaret Hodge’s photographs can be see in the galleries in this blog and you can see more on our Flickr site.

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The first group of 149 Malayan students arrived at the college on 2 January 1952. For many students, this wasn’t just a place to gain a teaching qualification; it was also an opportunity to bring the many Malayan cultures, races, languages and religions together, looking towards the vision of a multi-ethnic, diverse and tolerant Malaya that they hoped for. Panduan embraced this optimism as a “challenge to work for a united, progressive and harmonious Malaya, having its roots in and drawing its sustenance from the [country’s] several diversities.”

The Malayan students had a busy social life. We know from the memories of former students and articles in Panduan that many of them would regularly visit local towns and cities and very much enjoyed eating fish and chips and to Kirkby’s pubs! Within the college, students were able to become part of a wide variety of clubs and societies, organising a packed calendar of dances, film nights, sporting and charity fund-raising activities. Drama and musical productions were also a fixture of college life, as well as celebrations of religious festivals that brought all of the students together to recognise and enjoy the many different faiths represented within the college.

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During the two year course, the students were expected to study a broad range of subjects, including English, Education and Mathematics. Alongside their studies, students also had to gain teaching experience and would be placed with schools across the region to develop their classroom skills. We are delighted that we have been contacted by people with childhood memories of meeting the young, Malayan teachers and being introduced to new cultures and even foods (one gentleman remembered seeing a pineapple for the first time!).

This project has helped us to learn so much more about the history of the college, the lives of the Malaysians who studied there and their impact on local communities. The exhibition is an opportunity for us to share this extraordinary history and remind people of Kirkby’s international significance and why it is held in such high affection by alumni of an exceptional and distinct college.

Listening to Postcards

As detailed in an earlier blog, one of the collections that is being digitised and catalogued thanks to our Heritage Lottery funding is the personal collection of a family who used to live in Huyton and was deposited by a member of the family who had been born in 1914, shortly before the outbreak of war. Luckily for us, she was an habitual hoarder – keeping correspondence between herself, family members and friends, as well as various other family-related items. Included amongst the family’s business and personal documents are some fantastic postcards sent and received from the First World War through to the Second World War. My earlier post on this collection described how powerful and insightful these are and how they provide a fascinating glimpse into the relationships family members had with each other and their wider friendship and community networks. The combination of image and words that postcards bring together has a wonderful way of evoking voices, allowing us a rare opportunity to listen to the past.

Now that the digitisation and cataloguing of the postcards have been completed, we decided to put up a small display of duplicates, with labels providing interesting contextual information.

Postcard from 1918 showing a young girl holding a dog

Four of the postcards are part of a chain between a father who was serving in the Royal Flying Corps during the First World War and his young daughter (whose personal collection all of the items in the display come from). As described in an earlier post (‘Postcards from the Past’), the pair used to enjoy trying to outdo each other with cards that made them laugh or they found particularly cute – usually meaning pictures of little girls or sweet animals or, even more ideal, animals and children together!

Also from the First World War period, we have two cards that portray the devastation wrought by battle in Europe. Postcards with images of bombed ruins in France were popular towards the end of the First World War with British soldiers sending word home or to be purchased as a souvenir of the war. The postcard of Peronne we have selected (below, top) is one of several in this collection that was not sent to anyone, but brought back to England as, presumably, a memento. As ever, humorous cards were very popular to send home and our other card of war damage (below, bottom) provides a brilliantly incongruous image of a British soldier taking a nap on a bed amongst the ruins.

‘The Little House,’ Peronne, 1917

‘A Tommy Does A Sleep Amongst the Ruins,’ 1917

The postcards we have selected from the inter-war years reflect the social life of our depositor as she became a young woman who was lucky enough to travel across the country and visit parts of mainland Europe. From 1928, her elder sister, sends a beautiful image of the Blackpool Illuminations back home to her then-teenage sister, a reminder of both the long history of the Illuminations and the popularity of Blackpool as a short break destination for residents of Merseyside and the surrounding areas.

The Blackpool Illuminations, 1928

Our young woman’s correspondents during the 1930s include a German man who would send her postcards in English, French and German. Amongst these are two postcards of great historical significance. The first (below, top), from April 1938 and written in English with an image of Semmering, Austria, was sent from Vienna, Austria, shortly after Adolf Hitler had annexed the country and paraded triumphantly through the city. The sender uses apostrophes when writing how ‘happy’ his friends are to see Hitler there, possibly indicating that they were exactly the opposite. The second (below, bottom) has an image of the Rheinhotel Dreesen in Bad Godesberg, Germany, and was sent on 22nd September 1938. The German text contains references to Hitler and the British Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, as it was written and sent whilst historic meetings were taking place at the hotel between the pair that would, with hindsight, bring the Second World War one step closer.

Semmering, Austria, 1938

Rheinhotel Dreesen, Bad Godesberg, 1938

The mini-exhibition of postcards can be viewed at Kirkby Library, Mondays, Tuesdays and Fridays: 10am – 5pm; Thursdays and Saturdays: 10am – 1pm. For any more information about the collection or to view the originals, please contact Knowsley Archives.

Postcards from the Past

Collections of correspondence can be a fascinating source of historical information and provide a wealth of cultural and social context. They can reveal forgotten friendships, romances and feuds; or offer the evidence needed to piece together a family’s history or business dealings. For me, this sense of a family’s world pulling into focus is made all the sharper when much of the correspondence is conducted via greetings cards and postcards.

Many of the postcards capture Huyton as our correspondent would have known it growing up, such as this one of Park Road.

Here in Knowsley Archives, we have a collection of personal documents, currently being digitised thanks to Heritage Lottery funding, that belonged to a woman brought up in Huyton. Born in 1914, just as the small community (as it was then) of Huyton and the wider world was about to be forcibly and irrevocably changed by the First World War, she grew up during the inter-war years and was able to travel extensively across Europe during the mid to late 1930s, making friends in the different nations she visited and then keeping in touch with postcards written in French, German and English. We also know from correspondence that she became actively involved with the Liverpool Women Police Patrols. In 1939, of course, her life was again dramatically affected by war. This time, her younger brother joined up and was killed in 1944. The surviving correspondence allows us to see the warm, gently teasing relationship the siblings had and the terrible devastation wrought by her brother’s death upon herself, her family and their friends in Huyton.

Clearly, the information detailed above survives because of the written word, but it is often given extra meaning and can offer further levels of understanding when the correspondence has been conducted using postcards and greeting cards. The writing itself can tell us about the correspondent’s state of mind; we may wonder why some would write so much, often resorting to filling every available space on the back of a postcard, and others would keep their note to a brief, sometimes terse couple of lines. During the First World War, our young girl’s father (who was serving in the Royal Flying Corps) would send very brief postcards to his wife, often with the message “letter to follow,” but much more detailed postcards to his young daughter, telling her his reaction to news she (or her mother) had passed on and how much he looked forward to seeing her again soon. There is a marked difference in the types of images used to illustrate the cards he sends to his wife and his daughter. For his wife, he often selects postcards that portray the ravages of the war upon Europe: bomb-damaged streets and buildings torn apart. Occasionally these may have a hint of humour to them, such as the card shown above that captures a Tommy resting on a bed amongst the ruins.

The postcards and greeting cards the father would send to his daughter are often chosen
because he hopes she will find them pretty. Towards the end of the war, we can gather
that they were exchanging cards that made them smile; each trying to outdo the other with cuter or more farcical images. We are very lucky that cards written by both the father and the daughter have survived to be part of this collection, so we can wonder if the “comical” card her father expresses surprise at receiving is the one of the girl dressing in front of her dog below. When he sends the card showing the girl floating in the tub he suggests that his daughter is more mischievous than the girl in the illustration and would pull the fish’s tail.

The caption reads: “Donald, you should look the other way when a lady’s dressin’!”

The caption reads “Any Subtureens Mr. Fish?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Following the First World War (which her father survived), our correspondent enters into correspondence with people from across Europe. In particular, we have a number of postcards sent to her by a German man. These are interesting documents as pieces of correspondence (made all the more intriguing by the fact that we have no postcards from him following the outbreak of war, so do not know what happened to their relationship), and also offer a visual representation of the pre-Second World War Germany. It is a shame that we are not able to see the postcards that she was sending to Germany – what image of Britain did they present, I wonder?

Postcard from Bernkastel-Kues, Germany, 1939

Postcard from Goppingen, Germany, 1937

Unfortunately, our collection of correspondence peters out after the Second World War. Other family documents are included in the collection, but there is a special power to these postcards and greeting cards that give us a tantalising glimpse into the life of one family during the first of the twentieth century. A card that may have been selected randomly or with great care can be so much more than a simple exchange of words; it can help to present a far more detailed picture of the world these people lived in and the way that they, and others, perceived it.