View of Liverpool in the year 1813 entered at sta. hall price 3/6 liverpool . j. f. hughes , 1863 2 nd. 1,000....

The “Recollections of Old Liverpool,” contained in the following pages, appeared originally the Liverpool Compass , their publication extending over a period of several months. When they were commenced it was intended to limit them to three, or at the most four, chapters, but such was the interest they created, that they were extended to their present length. Those who have recorded the green memories of an old man, as told while seated by his humble “ingle nook” have endeavoured to adhere to hi

I was born in Liverpool, on the 4th of June in 1769 or ’70.  I am consequently about ninety-three years old.  My friends say I am a wonderful old man.  I believe I am.  I have always enjoyed such excellent health, that I do not know what the sensation is of a medical man putting his finger on my wrist.  I have eaten and drunk in moderation, slept little, risen early, and kept a clear conscience before God and man.  My memory is surprising.  I am often astonished at myself in recalling to mind ev

I was very sorry when the Ranelagh Gardens were broken up.  The owner, Mr. Gibson, was the brother of the Mr. Gibson who kept the Folly Gardens at the bottom of Folly-lane (now Islington) and top of Shaw’s Brow (called after Mr. Alderman Shaw, the great potter, who lived in Dale-street, at the corner of Fontenoy-street—whose house is still standing).  Many a time have I played in the Folly Tea Gardens.  It was a pretty place, and great was the regret of the inhabitants of Liverpool when it was r

One of my great-grandsons—a fine young fellow, has joined the Volunteers: and seems determined to work his way to a commission.  I cannot help smiling when I see him in his uniform, for he reminds me of my young days, when I was a full private in Pudsey Dawson’s Liverpool Volunteers.  I don’t think the volunteers of this day are so smart-looking as they were of olden time, when they wore blue coats, white breeches, gaiters and pig-tails, and used pipe-clay in abundance.  When we were reviewed on

Before I exhaust my recollections of Duke-street and its celebrities, I ought not to omit mention of a worthy gentleman who resided in it, and whose name occupied the attention of the public in many ways, in all honourable to himself, as a man, a soldier, and a citizen.  I refer to Colonel Bolton, whose mansion in Duke-street, between Suffolk-street and Kent-street (called after, and by Mr. Kent, who lived at the corner of the street, and who also named the streets adjacent after the southern co

Some five years previous to this event, about the month of June, 1800, a circumstance occurred which created a great sensation in the town, and occupied public attention in a most remarkable degree.  It seems rather out of chronological order to go back five years; but the reader who favours me with his attention must be content to obtain my information as I can impart it.  My head is not so clear as it used to be in the arrangement of such matters. In the year mentioned there was a merchant est

When I look around and see the various changes that have taken place in this “good old town” I am sometimes lost in wonderment.  Narrow, inconvenient, ill-paved streets have been succeeded by broad thoroughfares—old tumble-down houses have been replaced by handsome and costly buildings, while the poor little humble shops that once were sufficient for our wants have been completely eclipsed by the gigantic and elegant “establishments” of the present day. I recollect Dale-street when it was a narr

In 1801, my wife being out of health, I was advised to take her from town.  As Everton was recommended by Dr. Parks, I looked about in that neighbourhood, and after some difficulty obtained accommodation in a neat farm-house which stood on the rise of the hill.  I say it was with difficulty that I could meet with the rooms I required, or any rooms at all, for there were so few houses at Everton, and the occupants of them so independent, that they seemed loth to receive lodgers on any terms.  It

In 1820, a rather curious circumstance transpired, which created a good deal of conversation, and even consternation amongst the inhabitants of Everton.  This was the extraordinary and mysterious disappearance of the Cross which stood at the top of the village, a little to the westward of where the present Everton road is lineable with Everton-lodge.  This Cross was a round pillar, about four feet from the top of three square stone steps.  On the apex of the column was a sun-dial.  This Cross ha

In the fields at the top of Brownlow-hill lane, just where Clarence and Russell-streets now meet, there was once a Powder House, to which vessels used to send their gunpowder while in port.  This Powder House, in the middle of the last century, was a source of anxiety to the inhabitants of the town, who fully anticipated, at any moment, a blow-up, and the destruction of the town.  The Powder House was afterwards converted into a receptacle for French prisoners.  My grandfather knew the place wel

In the last chapter of my “Recollections” I spoke of the man—Joseph Williamson; the present will be of his “excavations.”  In various parts of the world we find, on and under the surface, divers works of human hands that excite the wonder of the ignorant, the notice of the intelligent, and the speculation of the learned.  Things are presented to our view, in a variety of forms, which must have been the result of great labour and cost, and which appear utterly useless and inapplicable to any oste

The conversion of the huge stone quarry at the Mount into a cemetery was a very good idea.  This immense excavation was becoming a matter of anxiety with the authorities, as to what should be done with so large an area of so peculiar a nature.  To fill it up with rubbish seemed an impossibility; while the constant and increasing demand for stone added to the difficulties of the situation.  The establishment of a cemetery at Kensal Green in Middlesex, suggested the conversion of this quarry to a

Thirty years ago Great Charlotte-street, at the Ranelagh-street end, was a narrow, poorly-built thoroughfare.  On the left hand side, looking south, between Elliot-street and the present coach-builders’ establishment, there was a timber-yard, in which stood a small wooden theatre, known as “Holloway’s Sans Pareil ,” and truly it was Sans Pareil , for surely there was nothing like it, either in this town or anywhere else.  Both inside and outside it was dirty and dingy.  There were only a pit and

On turning over my “Recollections” of our theatre, there was one circumstance connected with the drama in Liverpool that I shall not forget.  It made a great impression on my mind, as it did no doubt upon all those who, at the time, interested themselves in the success of the movement.  I allude to the brilliant demonstration that took place in December, 1816, when an amateur performance was got up in aid of the distress experienced in Liverpool, a distress felt in common with the whole nation. 

On Sunday morning, February 11, 1810, I was standing in St. Nicholas churchyard, in company with two old friends.  We were waiting the arrival of the congregation, and the commencement of the morning service.  The second bells were chiming.  We had been looking on the river with that interest which is always felt in gazing upon such a scene.  Our conversation had turned upon the benefits which a good sound Christian education must confer upon the lower classes of society.  Education at the perio

I have never been much of a play-goer, but have occasionally visited the theatres when remarkable performers have appeared.  I recollect many of the leading actors and actresses of the close of the last century, while all the great ones of this I have seen from time to time.  Joe Munden, Incledon, Braham, Fawcett, Michael Kelly, Mrs. Crouch, Mrs. Siddons, Madame Catalani Booth, and Cooke, and all the bright stars who have been ennobled—Miss Farrell (Lady Derby), Miss Bolton (Lady Thurlow), Miss

In the year 1816, in consequence of the high price of provisions, as mentioned in a former chapter, many persons rendered desperate by their wants, formed themselves into gangs of robbers, and committed many daring acts of depredation.  Travellers were constantly stopped, ill-treated, and robbed on the roads in the vicinity of the town; and scarcely a day passed, without intelligence arriving of some house in the outskirts being attacked and plundered.  To such an extent was this carried, that p

As a young boy and an old man I have seen my native town under two very diverse aspects. As a boy, I have seen it ranked only as a third-rate seaport.  Its streets tortuous and narrow, with pavements in the middle, skirted by mud or dirt as the season happened.  The sidewalks rough with sharp-pointed stones, that made it misery to walk upon them.  I have seen houses, with little low rooms, suffice for the dwelling of the merchant or well-to-do trader—the first being content to live in Water-stre