The Butler Brothers

Hubert Desramaux Butler (1899-1971) 

Major Gerald Villers Butler (1897-1967) 

The Butler Family Tree:

                                                                                                                          A Painting of Hubert Butler by Claude Harrison.

The full family tree can be downloaded in .pdf files from here: https://sites.google.com/site/huytonhillschool2/butler-genealogy 

                                             Hubert D. Butler 

Tribute by Derrick Gillingham (pupil 1957-1962)

“A group of old boys of Huyton Hill School helped to collect information to assemble into this website. It seems that they had one conviction in common: they all recognised the achievement of Hubert and Gerald Butler in creating, maintaining and enhancing the school during its forty-year existence. Most of us offered completely unsolicited tributes to the impact both men made on our individual and collective education.

In his “A Message to Friends” of May 1969, Hubert Butler expressed the hope that “Huyton Hill will remain a linking Ides for our four hundred Old Boys”. This website is a testimony to the fact that his hope is being realised. We are a group of old boys covering twenty years of the life of Huyton Hill and we have expressed our acknowledgement of the broad educational achievement of Huyton Hill, many of us in our own personal words.

In our opinion there is no doubt that Huyton Hill promoted “Wisdom rather than Knowledge, and Courtesy rather than Cleverness” and we would accept that the school taught us a lot about duty and about “good will”. Several of us have admitted that Hubert Butler was an awe-inspiringly large figure in our lives at the time and that gave him an aura of remoteness, but this is balanced by comments that he was a most caring and gentle person, doing small things that made a major difference to the lives of small boys often thousands of miles away from their parents.  Hubert’s was the presiding spirit that drove the school forward and ensured that the school motto “I will with a good will” was lived in the daily detail of life.

In his nearly twenty years at Huyton Hill, as joint headmaster, Gerald Butler, better known as “Major B” was a real mentor to many boys and a friend to many others. His ability to get alongside us and gently to guide our lives and our behaviour, not to mention our learning, was really remarkable. There have been several touching tributes to his passing in 1967 and memories of him are held in the sort of high regard that speaks volumes for his quality as a person and as a schoolmaster. One old boy recently commented on Gerald’s ability to find hidden talents in young boys and bring them to light. This insight is one shared by the writer from a time ten years earlier and is typical of the sort of person he was.

Much as we would have liked to see our school perpetuated today, it is quite clear that these two remarkable brothers gave the school a quite unique “character” that could not easily have been preserved or perpetuated after their time. We are therefore reluctantly inclined to admit that closing the school in 1969 was better than trying to perpetuate it out of character.

However, we – the old boys of Huyton Hill – are in our turn a living testimony to the education imparted to us by Hubert and Gerald Butler. This education we have imparted to our children and our children’s children with a good will.”

"Gerald Villers Butler was born on the 1st of January 1897. There are of course references to him on our website, including the testimonial (The Man for the Job) from the Headmaster of Portora Royal School and a number of photographs. Before the first of these images appeared, one boy (a member of Arthur House?) referred to the quest for a photograph of the Major as his 'holy grail', which remark well articulates the regard in which he was (and is) held. Also on the website is my narration of his intervention in a minor bullying incident (of which I was the victim) with the words, which still ring in my ears: "Get your hands off my history date machine!" I have worn that accolade as a badge of honour ever since. I last saw the Major in 1967 when I visited the school and he took me into his parlour for tea and biscuits. Of course he was always busy and the occasion was a brisk one (everything done with the Major's usual crispness and clarity) but I was grateful for even a little of his valuable time, and, as it turned out, he had so little left. I remember that he questioned me about what I was doing ('idling' would have been an honest answer at the time) and what I intended to do ('no idea', though I don't suppose I said that as I would have wished to at least appear more definite and purposeful). I do remember feeling horribly inarticulate. Struck dumb, I suppose, by the Major's presence. I don't think it unduly sentimental to say that Major B was a father figure for me, one who could be stern and with whom one would never be familiar, but with a rare way of engaging the individual affection and interest of the boys 'under his command'. I know that others saw him in much the same way and almost all of the boys remember him with respect (reverence even) and affection. Although he was no Mr Chips (with all due respect to that old potato), the character's passing in the original film (with Robert Donat) does bring the Major to my mind, in as much as the old teacher, as he lies dying, contradicts a remark about it being a pity he had no children. "But I did", he protests, "thousands of them...and all boys". Likewise (and in a similar spirit) I think the Major may lay claim to a hundred or two. I only went home (to Bahrain) once a year, and my father was both physically and psychologically a towering figure in my childhood, but most of the time an absent and a distant one. The Major filled that gap, in some measure, and I continue to treasure my association with him (unsullied by the the fact that he whacked me a couple of times, which I thoroughly deserved). I am at present working on a manuscript (a fact-based novel with an historical sub-plot) that I have dedicated to GVB with words that might also conveniently close this little birth day tribute:

In memory of Major Gerald Villers Butler

my teacher, friend, and mentor 

at Huyton Hill...

'I will with a good will'

Hubert Butler on Keeping a Diary

"Schoolboys all love diaries. Some of the them only love them from January 1st to January 10th and some of them succeed in entering them daily for the whole twelve months. The staff should be persuaded to encourage boys to keep their diaries up to date and at the same time they should encourage them to fill them up intelligently. They are very much inclined to fill in the obvious things which they don't need to remember or particularly to notice, things in fact which keep on repeating and which they could discover at once by looking at a school time-table or something of that kind. If a boy does not know what is worth putting in, he will usually be helped by the formula, "Think of the nicest thing you saw, the nicest thing you did, the nicest thing you heard, the nicest thing you ate (and occasionally, the nicest thing you smelt."!) This will not only encourage his memory but will encourage it in its most fruitful activity, that of noticing and remembering the pleasant things of life instead of encumbering our minds with the unpleasant ones. If the boys' diaries contain not more than one remark per day and that a record of things they have enjoyed, it will not be a waste of time or of the diary. This is particularly important in the lower forms which contain new boys and one member of the staff should be appointed in each of these Sets to spend two or three minutes each day enquiring (and encouraging the boys to record) whatever they enjoyed most the previous day. This will help them to find out the enjoyable things from each other and will help to counter balance any little worries which they may have if they have been the absolute centre of the universe while at home." - HDB

Hubert Butler on Letter Writing

"This (Diaries) leads on to the writing of the weekly letter home. Naturally parents want to know what they are doing and are particularly pleased to know what they are enjoying doing. The daily records of this will be very helpful. The whole question of the letters home is a little difficult as one wants them to write freely and yet one wants to help them to learn to write better letters. We have tried to get over the difficulty by allowing them to write any letters they wish and to seal them without any supervision at all. This makes sure they can write any grumbles or worries without any fear of censorship, but for the weekly letters we tell the boys quite frankly that their letters are read and in fact they are told whether their letters are improving or not. I am glad to say that generally speaking over the years they do steadily improve but I doubt whether this would be the case if we just left the week-end letter writing to chance and their own inclinations.

The subject was discussed from time to time at School Meetings and the present system was evolved many years ago and seems to stand the test of time.

They all agreed that they wanted to write a decent letter home and they didn't grudge the time for it provided other boys were not finishing early and rushing out to play football or something of that kind. Consequently an hour and a quarter were fixed when boys would not be able to do anything but write letters. If they chose to idle that was an affair mainly between themselves and their parents but they could not leave the room or read a book or anything of that kind.

Then came the problem of "Please, sir, I can't think of anything else to say," and an aggrieved look which seemed to say "What is the sense of keeping me in here for another half hour when I have nothing to write about?" This difficulty was solved (and a great advance in letter writing achieved) by agreeing that except for the 12 best letter writers, each group of boys should spend the first quarter of an hour thinking of points to write about. Any boy who thinks of a point puts his hand up and another boy, or a master, writes it up on the blackboard, and there they remain throughout the hour of letter writing so that no boy has any excuse for finishing before the time is up." - HDB

For me [Derrick Gillingham] (and I suspect for many) letter writing was an unnecessary chore and a complete waste of my valuable time, and I remember that on one occasion my entire letter to my parents comprised a vulgar jungle jingle which began with Sabina, who was lying 'without any clothes' ('Jane' failed to scan), and ended with a detail of Tarzan's anatomy that rhymed, terminally, with: 'along came Tarzan like a brick'. Naturally this did not pass the resident censor's scrutiny and I was upbraided, severely, by HDB, and made to write another and more satisfactory letter, at great length, and presumably during what would otherwise have been my leisure time, sitting alone in the refectory (adjacent to the dining hall). I don't exactly remember but I expect it was an hour and a quarter of scripted detention. It would be interesting to hear any other recollections of letter writing at Huyton Hill.

An exchange on history by two former pupils