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This portrait was presented to Canon Halliwell on his retirement, and it
now hangs in the College Ante-Chapel. it was exhibited at the Royal
Academy Summer Exhibition in 1965.

Presentation to Canon Halliwell on his retirement form
the President of the Student Council

With Princess Margaret in 1957 after the opening of the new Women's Hostel
- click photo to enlarge

Trinity College in the 1950s - click to enlarge

The visit of Archbishop Fisher

Archbishop Fisher congratulates Peter Cherry on a
succesful production of the Zeal of the Thy House

Johnny Davies presents a silver salver to the Principal
on behalf of the non academic staff
My Father concluded his personal journal with this quotation - from Dr
Johnson
"In every life there are certain pauses and interruptions, which
force consideration upon the careless, and seriousness upon the light;
points of time when one course of action ends and another begins, and by
the vicissitudes of fortune, or alteration of employment, change of place
or loss of friendship, we are forced to say of something "this is the
last." "
Thomas Morton Halliwell - 12th February 2005
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IN THE COLLEGE CHAPEL
SATURDAY, 7 MAY, 1983
The Address by the Most Reverend Derrick G. Childs
Archbishop of Wales
Proverbs 10 :13 The man of understanding, has wisdom on his lips.
Diar. 10 : 13 Yng ngwefusau y synhwyrol u ceir doethineb.
As we meet today to remember with honour and thanksgiving the
personality, the career and the work of Thomas Halliwell no verse of
Scripture seems to me to sum up better than those words, the quality and
direction of his whole life. To savour their aptness we must remember that
in their use in Scripture the English words understanding and
"wisdom" and their Welsh equivalents are seen only in relation
to God's will and purpose, his revealing of himself to the world through
our Lord Jesus Christ, to men of faith. Understanding and wisdom are not
just the garnering of knowledge or the accumulation of facts. There is
always a practical reference an ability and skill to turn one's thoughts,
one's awareness, into proper and eloquent action.
I remember my own awareness of this, in the man who had for so many
years been my predecessor as Principal of this College, when, addressing
the College from this pulpit for the first time, on the first morning of
my first term in 1965, I spoke of words from Chapter 12 of St Paul's
Letter to the Christians of Rome about a Christian's vocation - "
your reasonable service,". ("eich rhesymol wasanaeth chwi"),
and " the renewal of the mind" ("adnewyddiad eich meddwl")
- as Tom Halliwell's legacy to those who followed him. The words are
different from those of my text but the idea is the same. I still think he
will be happy if we today identify that as the quality of his life's
service. He reminded me in a letter i965 that his whole life, and that of
his life's partner, had been bound up with this College, and with this
Chapel at its heart, not just for 25 years of his Principalship, but ever
since he had come here as Chaplain in 1927 - his interest and concern
remained until he died.
"The College has been Much more than job of work. In a very real
sense our life has been tied up in it possibly too much so, and yet I
think it was necessary in view of all the challenges that had to be
met."
The outline of Tom Halliwell's life is soon told. He was as old as this
20th Century and no-one who heard that soft gentle voice was left in any
doubt about his northern origins. Meeting as he did in adolescence the
violent overthrow of a whole social and mental framework caused by the
first World War, he experienced that forerunner of all the traumatic
changes which this Century was to know, and came to University in the
immediate aftermath of war, graduating in English at Manchester in 1923.
Ordained in 1925 after training at Ridley Hall, Cambridge, following a
brief curacy in Aston in Birmingham he came to Carmarthen, as already
noted, for a chaplaincy and Tutorship, which lasted from 1927 to 1931.
Then for nine years he was Vicar successively to two parishes: in Wigan
and Chorley, before coming back as Principal in the year after the
beginning of another World War, in 1940
Whatever the circumstances might have been it could never have been an
easy task to follow in the footsteps of a single-minded and determined man
of the stature of Albert William Parry. He had been Principal for 31 years
- from 1909 to 194), and, although he attracted more awe than love in a
lifetime marked with intense domestic suffering, and the continual strain
of responsibility, he was acknowledged by Tom Halliwell in the College's
centenary booklet to have been the architect of its survival.
In 1940 the College, which had already taken its present name when this
Chapel was dedicated in 1931, had 100 students - all male - and a staff of
seven. When Canon Halliwell retired one generation later, mere statistics
- a student body of 400 students (with rather more women than men), and an
academic staff, of between:40 and 50, o not indicate the magnitude of the
change he had wrought. Perhaps his memory of the turmoil of the world of
his own youth enabled him to transform a College where the discipline was
still Victorian, repressive and potentially explosive, for men returning
from four or five years in world-wide combat in the Forces, into a
community which was able to contain its strains and pour healing oil into
its wounds.
Dean Parry had brought the College through many perilous waters, and
Tom Halliwell was to know many storms and crises, but the tenacity of his
struggle to preserve the College's identity and character, as well as its
very existence, was to be sustained only at greater cost to his physical
and spiritual well-being than he should have been asked to face.
Again, in a letter to me in 1965, Tom Halliwell spoke revealingly of
the strain of responsibility which in the end he had to carry alone,
because of the peculiarly exposed and lonely position of a Principal of a
Voluntary College - and also of his own temperament and approach. The man
who is able to make up his mind quickly and then go through with his
decisions (he claimed) is saved a lot of anxiety and wear and tear. But,
he wrote - "my temperament is very different, things are never as
clear cut as they seem to more logical minds and life is always much
larger than logic". There was the recollection of much anguish in
those words.
Despite frequent ill-health - which was the constant concern of his
family and friends, he maintained a resolute front to the world and the
"powers that bell in the administering of Educational Institutions,
which was the result not just of his northern doggedness and realism.
Behind the struggle, in which he readily admitted the support of the warm
friendships and the affinity of spirit within the Community
of the College,-which became known through Wales as "Y Coleg
Cyfeillgar", there was always the conviction of the rightness of a
Christian understanding of education, and a belief, reiterated more than
once in his letters, that the school was in the 20th century the real
arena for Christian evangelism, and also that ever-deepening and
increasingly evident love for Wales, the land which adopted him, and whose
University eventually honoured him with a doctorate because it recognised
the quality of his service.
The gentleness of hid normal address belied the tenacity with which he
fought for justice for his College as when, for example, he confronted in
the University Faculty of Education a University College Principal, who
had decided that the time had come for a lone Voluntary College,
unsupported by the power of a local authority, or by understanding from
the Church leaders of that day, could be erased from the educational map
of Wales. There have been "excursions and alarums" since - and
maybe threats will continue to come - but the fact that the College is
'still here to struggle for itself, and now with greater understanding and
support, is almost wholly due to Tom Halliwell's courage. He prepared the
ground well, and I always felt that his words to me - "We never cut
down a tree without planting two in its stead!', had a deeper parabolic
meaning than just the conservation of the beauty of the College campus.
Where was the secret of his strength, apart from that which he derived
from the warmth of his home and the shared convictions in the College
community?
I suspect he was not really happy in constant preoccupation with
practical administrative tasks, but in it all he maintained a poise and
integrity which proved the deep strength of his Christian faith, his
pastoral concern, the breadth reading which renewed and informed his mind,
and the fact that he was steeped in all the riches of a European culture
stemming from its Christian Past
The range and variety of the theological books in the Library reflect
his owns interests, rather than the piety and devotion, of his students,
but the fruits of his reading, and his meditation upon it, were poured
out, digested and systematised, not only in his teaching and conversation
in College, but also in his preaching to generation after generation of
students, from this pulpit. As a priest, his deep personal devotion, and
his interest in philosophical theology, raised him above the party
squabbles among the men of different approaches in, twentieth century
Anglicanism. He earthed this approach to faith in seeking to establish and
sustain a natural caring community, for there was nothing detached or
esoteric, nothing dryly academic, about his understanding of the Gospels
or his love of its Lord.
As he spoke of his deepest convictions and beliefs one never failed to
remevnbc.1, that his initial discipline of study was English literature,
and that his great loves in the world of literature were first,
Shakespeare, and - increasingly in his later years - Samuel Taylor
Coleridge.
It was Coleridge himself who wrote of "our myriad-minded
Shakespeare", and went on to say: " He is of no age - nor of any
religion, or party or profession. The body and substance of his works came
out of the unfathomable depths of his own oceanic mind. Again and again it
was the great themes of Shakespearean drama, especially of tragedy which
gave Tom Halliwell the pegs on which to hang his own teaching. But it was
Coleridge who put into words a description which well fits Tom Halliwell's
whole approach, when he wrote
Of that great eternal language, which thy God
Utters, Who from eternity doth teach
Himself in all, and all things in himself.
Great universal Teacher! He shall mould
Thy Spirit, and by giving make it ask.
"By giving make it ask" - Coleridge wrote "No man was
ever yet a great poet, without being at the same time a profound
philosopher. But the converse is equally true - no man was ever yet a
profound philosopher without being at the same time a great poet. And in
Tom Halliwell's belief and teaching there was deep poetry. His portrait
which hangs in the Council room in College captures much of his inner
serenity, but we could not expect the painter to be able to capture the
luminosity, the transparency the translucence, which was so unmistakable
especially when, in later years, he was recovering from one of his
recurrent crises in health. In no-one I have ever known was there so clear
a sense that the veil between time and eternity was so very thin as to be
no denser or closer than a spider's web. The-re was a deep mystical
quality about him which was recognised and appreciated by his friends,
even though they sometimes smiled at his preoccupation with angels one
which he shared, by the way, with St Thomas Acquinas. His beliefs (to
quote, Coleridge again) were "a total act of the soul .... the whole
state of the mind"..
For one whose life had to be spent so much in the public eye, and in
constant educational politics, Tom Halliwell was by nature a very private
person, and the years of ret8irement, despite the fragility of his health,
were years in which he enjoyed tom the full, the intimate joy and
fellowship of his growing family. But right up to my very last letter from
him, and my last brief conversation with him, after Archbishop Runcie's
visit last September to the Cathedral Canon Halliwell had loved and served
so well, his interest in and concern for this College, and the renewed
hope for its future, remained as the context of concern for a greater
family and fellowship.
So it is here in the place he loved, and where he gave so much of
himself,, that we thank God on every remembrance of him, for his
understanding of the ways of God, and the wisdom with which he sought to
share that understanding and put it into practice.
Coleridge, a mentor about whom he wrote in his very last letter to the
Times, wrote an epitaph for himself which encapsulated the stresses of his
own life. Perhaps we can use it for Thomas Halliwell, Priest, Teacher,
Friend and Guide, - as a prayer:
That he who many a year with toil and breath
Found death in life, may here find life in death.
May he rest in peace, and rise in Glory.
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