Recollections of Old Liverpool Part 4

Another story is told of the doctor once entertaining a party of gentlemen at Gilead House (as was often his custom), and towards the close of the evening, some one began joking the doctor about his "Balm of Gilead." The doctor bore the jesting very well, and on being told he ought to let those present taste it, readily consented to open a few bottles. Now this Balm, I believe, was very good, and was made, it was said, of strong alcohol or brandy, and the richest spices. The bottles of "Balm" pa.s.sed round and were duly appreciated. On the guests preparing to leave, they were presented with "a little bill" amounting to about a guinea each for the Balm of Gilead which had been consumed. The doctor telling them that it was by means of the "Balm" he lived, and through the "Balm" he was enabled to invite them to partake of his really bountiful hospitality. Each guest paid his bill, admitting that the doctor was right, and that they had merited the reproof so properly administered to them.

The doctor used to drive a handsome team of four horses, and, of course, attracted a good deal of attention whenever he made his appearance in the streets. On one occasion the late Lord Sefton, who was through life a first-rate whip, drove up to Heywood's bank in his usual dashing style.

Dr. Solomon was tooling along behind his lordship, and desirous of emulating his mode of handling the reins and whip, gave the latter such a flourish as to get the lash so firmly fixed round his neck as to require his groom's aid to release him from its folds.

I will now give the derivations of a few more streets, as I have heard them spoken of by old people; they may be interesting to my readers: Benn's Gardens was called after Mr. Benn, who was bailiff, in 1697. He resided in Pool-lane, now South Castle-street; his garden occupied this locality. Atherton-street was named after Mr. Peter Atherton, who was bailiff, in 1673. Bird-street was named after Mr. Joseph Bird, who was bailiff, in 1738; mayor in 1746. In Birch-field resided Mr. Birch.

Roscoe lived here at one time, and it was here he wrote the greater part of the lives of "The Medici." I recollect a great many fine trees being in and about this vicinity. Bolton-street was named after John Bolton, Esq., or Colonel Bolton as he was called. Byrom-street was named after Octavius Byrom. Chisenhale-street is named after Chisenhale Johnson.

Chorley-street is called after Mr. Chorley, who was recorder of Liverpool from 1602 till 1620. Canning-street is named in honour of the statesman.

Cleveland-square takes its name from the Clevelands; it was formerly called Price-square. The Prices were lords of the manor of Birkenhead.

Gildart Garden is named after Mr. Gildart, who was bailiff in 1712, and mayor in 1714, 1731, and 1736. Gill-street is named after Mr. Gill, who owned the land thereabouts. Harrington-street is called after the Harrington family, who once held considerable property in Liverpool.

Hackin's-hey is called after John Hackin, who was a tenant of the More's of olden time. Huskisson-street is named after the statesman at one time member for Liverpool. Cresswell-street after Sir Cresswell Cresswell, also an ex-borough member. Brougham-terrace, after Lord Brougham.

Hockenhall-alley is called after a very old Liverpool family.

Lord-street is named after Lord Molyneux. Redcross-street was so named in consequence of a red obelisk which stood in the open ground, south of St. George's Church. This street was originally called Tarleton's New-street. Shaw-street was named after "Squire Shaw," who held much property at Everton. Sir Thomas's Buildings is called after Sir Thomas Johnson, who, when Mayor, benevolently caused St. James's Mount to be erected as a means of employing the dest.i.tute poor in the severe winter of 1767. Strand-street derived its name from being the strand or sh.o.r.e of the river. Hunter-street and South Hunter-street, Maryland-street, Baltimore-street, etc., were named after Mr. John Hunter, an eminent merchant trading with the States, who dwelt in Mount Pleasant, and whose gardens extended to Rodney-street.

CHAPTER VII.

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 must appear strange to find Everton spoken of as being "out of town,"

but it was literally so then. It was, comparatively speaking, as much so as West Derby, or any of the neighbouring villages round Liverpool, are at present.

The farm-house in which we resided has long since been swept away, with its barns, its piggery, and its shippon. Never more will its cornricks gladden the eye--never more will busy agricultural life be carried on in its precincts. Streets and courts full of houses c.u.mber the ground. No more will the lark be heard over the cornfield--the brook seen running its silvery course--or the apple in the orchard reddening on the bending bough. The lark is represented by a canary in a gilded cage hanging out of a first-floor window--the corn-field by the baker's shop, with flour at eight pounds for a shilling--the brook is a sewer, and the apple is only seen at the greengrocer's shop at the corner, in company with American cheese, eggs, finnon-haddies, and lucifer matches. Ditch and hedge--the one with waving sedges and "Forget-me-nots" the other with the May blossom loading the evening air with its balmy breath--were as prevalent, at the time I speak about, in Everton, as you will now find in any country district. It was a pleasant place in summer and autumn time.

The neighbourhood of the Beacon was our favourite resort. Many a pleasant day we have spent at the top of it. The hill was covered with heather and gorse bushes. In winter it was as wild, bleak, and cold a place as any you could meet with.

In the summer it was the delight of holiday-makers. A day's "out" to the Beacon, at Everton, was a very favourite excursion. The hill-side on Sundays used to be thronged with merry people, old and young. The view obtained from Everton Beacon-hill was a view indeed.

And what a prospect! What a n.o.ble panoramic scene! I never saw its like. I do not think, in its way, such an one existed anywhere to be compared with it. At your feet the heather commenced the landscape, then came golden corn-fields and green pasture-lands, far and wide, until they reached the yellow undulating sand-hills that fringed the margin of the broad estuary, the sparkling waters of which, in the glow and fulness of the rich sunshine, gave life and animation to the scene, the interest of which was deeply enhanced, when on a day of high-tide, numbers of vessels might be seen spreading their snowy canvas in the wind as they set out on their distant and perilous voyages. In the middle ground of the picture was the peninsula of Wirral, while the river Dee might be seen shimmering like a silver thread under the blue hills of Wales, which occupied the back ground of the landscape. Westward was the ocean--next, the Formby sh.o.r.e attracted the eye. The sand-hills about Birkdale and Meols were visible. At certain seasons, and in peculiar states of the atmosphere, the hummocks of the Isle of Man were to be seen, while further north Black Combe, in c.u.mberland, was discernible. Bleasdale Scar, and the hills in Westmoreland, dimly made out the extreme distance. Ashurst Beacon, Billinge, and at their back Rivington-pike, were visible.

Carrying the eye along the Billinge range, there were Garswood-park, Knowsley and Prescot; the smoke from the little town of St. Helen's might have been seen behind them. Far away to the eastward were the Derbyshire-hills. Then we saw those of Shropshire, until the eye rested on the Chester ranges, Beeston and Halton Castles being plainly before us. The old city of Chester was discernible with a good gla.s.s. The eye moved then along the Welsh hills until it rested on the Ormeshead and travelled out upon the North sea. Below us, to our left, was the town of Liverpool, the young giant just springing into vigorous life and preparing to put forth its might, majesty and strength, in Trade, Commerce, and Enterprise. The man of 1801 can scarcely believe his eyes in 1862. The distant view is still there, from the top of Everton church tower, but how wonderfully is all the foreground changed.

The Beacon stood on the site of the eastern corner of Everton church. It was a square tower of two stories, and approached from the present Church-street by a little lane. Church-street was then a sandy winding road, having on one side the open heathery-hill, and on the other a low turf wall which enclosed the fields called "the Mosses," which were indeed little better than marshes. The Beacon was constructed of the red sandstone taken from the vicinity. I am no antiquarian, so that I can give but a poor opinion of its original date of erection. It was said by some to have been of great age--long previous to the time of Queen Elizabeth. Some even ascribed it to the time of the Earl of Chester; but a learned friend of mine once told me, when talking on this subject, that that could not have been the case, as Beacons were not erected in tower shapes until after the time of Edward the Third. Beacons, previously to that period, were merely lighted fires in cressets, grates, baskets of large size, or of f.a.ggots piled up. Everton Beacon certainly looked very old and dilapidated, and had stood the shock and buffet of some centuries. Its size was about six yards square; its height twenty-five feet. The bas.e.m.e.nt floor was on a level with the ground, and was a square room in which there was, in one corner, a fireplace, much knocked about and broken. There was also a flight of narrow stone steps which led to the upper chamber. It was utterly bare of any fittings whatever; but in the walls were indications of there having been fixtures at some time. There being no door to it the cattle which grazed on the hill had access to it at all times of storm or wind or heat, or as their bovine inclinations should prompt them to seek shelter, so that the floor, which was unflagged, was always in a very dirty state. On ascending the stairs access was obtained to the upper apartment which was lighted by a broad window facing the westward. This room had been used as a sleeping apartment by the guard or custodian of the Beacon, the window serving as a look-out. I believe the combustibles used in lighting up the signals were stored in it, the lower room being occupied as the common living chamber. From the upper room a flight of stone steps led upon the roof or outer platform. In the south-west corner was a large stone tank in which the signal fires were lighted. It seemed to have been subjected to the action of intense heat. At one corner was a sort of pent-house which served as a shelter for the watchman in inclement weather. On the east wall a gooseberry bush flourished surprisingly. How it came there no one knew--it had long been remembered in that position by every one who knew anything about the Tower. A few years previous to the date I speak about, the Beacon was occupied by a cobbler who carried on his trade in it, and eked out a living by grazing a cow and some goats on the common land in the vicinity. He looked after them while he made, mended, or cobbled. It was a very current tradition in Everton that during the early part of the reign of Charles the First, people came up to Everton Beacon to be married, during the proscription of the clergy. When Thurot's expedition was expected in 1760, it was said that Everton Hill was alive with people from the town waiting the freebooters' approach. A party of soldiers was then encamped on the hill, and I have been told the men had orders, on Thurot's appearance, to make signals if by day, and to light up the Beacon if at night, to communicate the intelligence of the French fleet being off the coast to the other Beacons at Ashurst and Billinge, Rivington-pike and elsewhere, and so spread the news into the north; while signals would also be taken up at Halton, Beeston, the Wreken, and thence to the southward. The most perfect arrangements for the transmission of this intelligence are said to have been made; and I knew an old man at Everton who told me that he had on that occasion carted several loads of pitch-barrels and turpentine and stored them in the upper chamber of the Beacon to be ready in case of emergency. He said that during the French war, at the close of the reign of George the Second, the Beacon was filled with combustibles, and that there was a guard always kept therein.

I am not sure if it is very generally known that it was to a Liverpool captain the discovery of the sailing of the Armada must be ascribed, and through him was made public in England. This captain's name was Humphrey Brook. He was outward bound from Liverpool to the Canaries when he saw the Spanish fleet in the distance, sailing north. Suspecting its errand he put his helm up and hastened back to Plymouth, where he spread the intelligence and caused it to be transmitted to London. He received substantial marks of favour from the Government for his foresight, prudence, and activity.

In 1804 a telegraph station was established at Everton. It stood where the schools are now built. It was discontinued in 1815. It consisted of an upright post whence arms extended at various angles--there was also a tall flag-staff for signals. While we were at Everton, a Mr. Hinde erected a house at the corner of Priory-lane, which he intended should represent the Beacon; but it was not a bit like it originally, nor at the present time (for I believe the house is still standing). Mr. Hinde had not long erected his Tower before he found that it was giving way. To prevent it falling he ran up a wing to the westward. He then found that it was necessary to erect a southern wing to keep that side up also.

Hence the present appearance of the house which has always been a subject of wonder and remark by strangers at its eccentric and unusual aspect.

I recollect St. Domingo Pit being much more extensive than it has been of late years. At one period it was fully one-third larger than it is now.

Those large stones that stand by its brink are the "Mere Stones." There were several more stones about which marked Everton's ancient boundaries.

There was one, I recollect, in the West Derby-road, near the Zoological Gardens. I often wonder if this relic of the past has been preserved. A branch of the Pool ran up the westward and formed an ornamental water in the grounds that skirted the Pool, a rustic bridge being thrown over it.

The cottage at one corner of the Pool is the ancient pinfold, and the rent of it was paid to the lord of the manor. The view from this part of Everton was very fine before houses began to spring up in its vicinity.

I do not know a finer prospect anywhere about Liverpool. When we were staying at Everton there were very few houses. I dare say there were not fifty houses in the whole district, and the inhabitants did not muster more than 400 souls; and it was not until 1818 or 1820 that much increase took place in its population.

CHAPTER VIII.

In 1820, a rather curious circ.u.mstance 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 had long been p.r.o.nounced a nuisance; and fervent were the wishes for its removal by those who had to travel that road on a dark night, as frequent collisions took place from its being so much in the way of the traffic.

When any one, however, spoke of its removal, the old inhabitants so strongly protested against its being touched, that the authorities gave up all hope of ever overcoming the prejudice in favour of its remaining.

However, a serious accident having occurred, it was at length determined by the late Sir William Shaw, to do what others dared not. One dark and stormy winter's night, when all Everton was at rest--for there were no old watchmen then to wake people up with their cries--two persons might have been seen stealing towards the Cross, in the midst of the elemental war which then raged. One of them bore a lantern, while the other wheeled before him a barrow, laden with crowbar, pickaxe, and spade. The rain descended in torrents, and the night was as dark as the deed they were about to commit could possibly require. They approached the ancient gathering place, where, in olden times, during the sweating sickness, the people from Liverpool met the farmers of the district and there paid for all produce by depositing their money in bowls of water. Amidst the storm the two men for a moment surveyed their stony victim, and then commenced its destruction. First, with a strong effort, they toppled over the upper stone of the column; then the next, and the next. They then wheeled them away, stone by stone, to the Round House on Everton-brow, wherein each fragment was deposited. The base was then ruthlessly removed and carried away, and at length not a vestige was left to mark the spot where once stood Everton Cross--raised doubtless by pious hands on some remarkable occasion long forgotten.

The Cross was thus safely housed and stored away in the Round House, and no one was the wiser. When morning dawned the astonishment of the early Everton birds was extreme. From house to house--few in number, then--ran the news that Everton Cross had disappeared during the storm of the previous night. The inhabitants soon mustered on the spot, and deep and long and loud were the lamentations uttered at its removal. Who did it?

When? How? At length a whisper was pa.s.sed from mouth to mouth--at first faintly and scarcely intelligible--until, gathering strength as it travelled, it became at length boldly a.s.serted that the Father of Lies had taken it away in the turbulence of the elements. And so the news spread through Liverpool, in the year 1820, that the Devil had run off with the Cross at Everton. My old friend, who many a time chuckled over his feat, and who told me of his doings, said that for many years he feared to tell the truth about it, so indignant were many of the inhabitants who knew that its disappearance could not have been attributable to satanic agency. My friend used to say that he had hard work to preserve his gravity when listening to the various versions that were prevalent of the circ.u.mstance.

Opposite the Cross there were some very old houses of the same type, character, and date as that known as Prince Rupert's cottage. The latter was a low long building, constructed of stone, lath, and plaster, and presented the appearance of an ordinary country cottage. Prince Rupert's officers were quartered in the village houses. At the back of the cottage, Rupert constructed his first battery. It was a square platform, and was used as a garden, until cottage and all were swept away for the new streets now to be found thereabouts. I can recollect the whole of the land from Everton Village to Brunswick Road being pasture land, and Mr. Plumpton's five houses in Everton Road, overlooking the fields, commanded high rents when first erected. Low-hill at this time was a rough, sandy, undulating lane with hedges on both sides. The only dwellings in it were a large house near the West Derby-road, and two low cottages opposite Phythian-street, still standing. The public-house at the corner of Low-hill and the Prescot-road is of considerable antiquity, there having been a tavern at this spot from almost all time, so to speak. Hall-lane was then called Cheetham's-brow.

Amongst other objects of interest that have disappeared at Everton, may be numbered "Gregson's Well," which stood on the left hand side of the gateway of Mr. Gregson's mansion. This well, before water was brought into our town in such abundance, was a great resort for the matrons, maids, and children of the neighbourhood, and slaked the thirst of many a weary traveller. It was a fine spring of water, and was approached by stone steps: the water issuing from a recess in the wall. "Gregson's Well" was a known trysting-place. There was an iron railing which enclosed the side and ends of the well, to prevent accidents. The water from the well is still flowing, I have been told. The stream runs underground, behind the houses in Brunswick-road--or, at least, it did so a few years ago. I have seen the bed of the stream that ran in the olden time down Moss-street, laid open many times when the road has been taken up. There was a curious story once current about the way that Brunswick-road obtained its name. It is said that when the new streets in that vicinity were being laid out and named, the original appellation which it bore, was chalked up as copy for the painter; but a patriotic lady, during the absence of the workman rubbed out the old name and subst.i.tuted for it "Brunswick-road," which name it has ever since borne.

Where Mr. Gregson's house stood, or nearly so, there was a house which, in the early part of the last century, belonged to a gentleman and his sister named Fabius. Their real name was Bean; but, after the manner of the then learned, they a.s.sumed the name of Fabius, from "Faba." Mr. or, as he was called, "Dr." Fabius was an apothecary, and received brevet rank--I suppose from being the only medical pract.i.tioner about. At any rate, from the limited population of the vicinity, he was doubtless sufficient for its wants. This Mr. Fabius was one of the first Baptists in this part of the country, and in 1700 obtained a license from Manchester, to use a room in his house as a prayer-room for that particular cla.s.s of worshippers. Mr. Fabius and his sister Hanna built, after a short time, a chapel or tabernacle of wood, in their garden, and gave to the Baptists "for ever" the "piece of land adjoining the chapel-field," as a burying-place; and in this little cemetery have all the earliest leading members of this influential body been interred. It has been quite full for some years, and in consequence the Necropolis Cemetery sprung as it were from it, where dissenters of all denominations could be buried. The Baptists, increasing in numbers, quitted Low-hill, and built a chapel in Byrom-street, which is now St. Matthew's church.

When this chapel was built it was thought to be too far out of town to be well attended.

There once lived a curious person at Low-hill who had peculiar tastes.

He built a place which was called "Rat's Castle." It stood on the brink of a delf, the site of which is now occupied by the Prescot-street Bridewell. This person used to try experiments with food, such as cooking spiders, blackbeetles, rats, cats, mice, and other things not in common use; and, it is said, was wont to play off tricks upon unsuspecting strangers by placing banquets before them that were quite unexpected and unprecedented in the nature and condition of the food.

While lingering over my "Recollections" of Everton, I ought not to forget mentioning that, as time went on and Liverpool became prosperous, and its merchants desired to get away from the dull town-houses and imbibe healthy, fresh air, this same Everton became quite the fashionable suburb and court-end of Liverpool. n.o.ble mansions sprung up, surrounded by well-kept gardens. Gradually the gorse-bush and the heather disappeared, and the best sites on the hill became occupied. The Everton gentry for their wealth and their pride were called "n.o.bles," and highly and proudly did they hold up their heads, and great state did many of the merchants who dwelt there keep up. The first mansion erected was on the Pilgrim Estate; the next was St. Domingo House. A brief history of these estates may not be uninteresting. In 1790 the whole of Everton hereabouts was owned by two proprietors. When Everton was all open, waste, and uncultivated land, one portion of it was enclosed by a shoemaker who called his acquisition "Cobbler's Close." This property was bought by Mr. Barton, who realized upwards of 190,000 pounds through the capture of a French vessel called _La Liberte_, by a vessel owned by Joseph Birch, Esq., M.P., called _The Pilgrim_. The estate of Cobblers' Close was then re-named "Pilgrim." The property next pa.s.sed into the hands of Sir William Barton, who sold it to Mr. Atherton. It was this gentleman who gave the land on which Everton Church is built, with this stipulation only--that no funerals should enter by the West Gate. The reason a.s.signed for this was because Mr. Atherton's house was opposite to it.

Mr. Woodhouse purchased the Pilgrim estate from Mr. Atherton, and re-named it "Bronte,", from his connection with the Bronte estate in Sicily, which had been bestowed on Lord Nelson for his great services.

When Lord Nelson received his first consignment of Marsala wines ordered for the fleet from his estate, he was asked to give the wine a name so that it might be known to the English people. Nelson said "call it Bronte." His lordship was told that "Bronte" meant "thunder." "Oh,"

replied the hero, "it will do very well; John Bull will not know what it means, and will think all the better of it on that account."

The St. Domingo Estate, in this vicinity, was originated by Mr. Campbell, who in 1757 purchased the estate. He continually added to it, as occasion presented, and called the whole "St. Domingo," in consequence of a rich prize taken by a privateer which he owned when off that island.

These two contiguous estates may be said, therefore, to have been purchased by English bravery.

Mr. Crosbie was the next proprietor. He purchased it for 3500 pounds, paying 680 pounds as deposit money. On his becoming bankrupt the estate was again put up for sale. It remained some time on hand, until Messrs.

Gregson, Bridge and Parke purchased it for 4129 pounds. They sold it for 3470 pounds, losing thereby. In 1793, Mr. Sparling, who was Mayor of Liverpool in 1790, bought it. He took down the house built by Mr.

Campbell and erected the handsome mansion now standing. This gentleman stipulated in his will that the house should be only occupied by a person of the name of Sparling, and that it was not to be let to any person for longer than seven years. In 1810 the legatees got the will reversed by an act of Parliament. The Queen's Dock was projected by Mr. Sparling, and Sparling-Street was called after him. The St. Domingo Estate was next sold for 20,295 pounds. It was afterwards resold for 26,383 pounds, and used as barracks.

The objections made by the people of Everton to barracks being formed in their neighbourhood were very great. A strong memorial was numerously signed by the inhabitants against the movement. The memorialists represented the demoralization attendant upon the introduction of numbers of soldiers into a respectable and quiet neighbourhood, and the annoyances that would have to be endured. But the prayer failed, and St.

Domingo House, for a time, became barracks accordingly. Everton appears always to have been a favourite locality for the quartering of soldiery, when it has been necessary or expedient to station them in the vicinity of Liverpool. On several occasions entire regiments have been quartered at Everton.

The encampment of soldiers in the fields near Church-street, which a few years ago attracted great attention and curiosity, is of too recent occurrence to require remark from me, as also the occupancy of the large houses on Everton-terrace and in Waterhouse-lane and Rupert-lane by officers and men. As of old, the inhabitants of the present day sent up a remonstrance to the authorities at the Horse Guards, against soldiers being located in the neighbourhood, but with the same want of success. A most intolerable nuisance, amongst others, entailed upon the inhabitants was the beating of what, in military parlance, is called "the Daddy Mammy." This dreadful infliction upon light sleepers and invalids consisted of half a dozen boys at military daybreak (that is, as soon as you can see a white horse a mile off) learning to beat the drum. The little wretches used to batter away in Mr. Waterhouse's garden and Rupert-lane half the day through, until several letters appeared in the newspapers on the subject, which excited the wrath of the commanding officer of the regiment then stationed there, who vowed vengeance on all civilians daring to interfere with, or comment on, the rules of the service.

The Breck-road, and indeed all the roads about Everton were, but a few years back, mere country lanes, along which little pa.s.sed except the farmers. There was no traffic on them as there was no leading thoroughfare to any place in the neighbourhood of the least importance.

It is only within the last ten years that Everton can be said to have been at all populous. It was in my young days out by Breck-road and Anfield (originally called Hangfield), Whitefield-lane, and Roundhill-lane, completely open country. On Breck-road or Lane the only house was that at the corner of Breckfield-road, called the "Odd House."

It was then a farm.

Connected with Whitefield-lane I recollect a good story told by a gentleman I knew, of his getting a free ride to Liverpool, behind the carriage of a well-known eccentric and most benevolent gentleman, some thirty years ago. My young friend who was then but lately come to Liverpool, had been invited to spend Sunday at Whitefield House, which stands at the corner of Whitefield-lane and Boundary-lane. At that time there was not a house near it for some distance. Boundary-lane was a narrow, rutted road, with a hedge and a ditch on each side, while the footpath--on one side only--was in a most miserable condition. There was then adjoining West Derby-road a large strawberry garden, which in summer time was the resort of pleasure-seekers, and it was the only approach to neighbourship along the whole length of the lane.

On leaving Whitefield House the night proved so intensely dark that my young friend found himself quite bewildered, and scarcely know whether to turn to the right or the left, being unacquainted with the locality.

Fortunately turning to the right, he stumbled along the miserable road, and with the utmost difficulty made his way onward, but not without misgivings of being knocked down and robbed, as there had been several daring attacks made upon people at night in that vicinity. He fervently wished himself in Liverpool, but shortly arriving at the West Derby-road he began to understand his "whereabouts." Having proceeded a few yards, a carriage pa.s.sed him driven by a postilion. There was an unoccupied d.i.c.ky behind, which my young friend thought it seemed a pity not to appropriate. Quick as youth and activity prompted, he climbed upon the carriage with the notion of the Dutchman "that it was better to ride than walk," and found his condition materially benefited by being carried through the darkness of the night instead of walking. When the carriage reached the London-road my friend thought it was time to alight, as he was then near home; but to his dismay he found that, although it was very easy to get up, it was not very easy to get down in safety. On he went with the carriage until it arrived at Lime-street, and began to turn down Roe-street, which was a good mile from my friend's lodgings. What was to be done? A bold thought struck him. "Hallo, hallo! I'll get down here!" he cried. Upon this the postilion pulled up short, when down came the window of the carriage, and an inquiry from it took place as to the reason of the stoppage. My friend had by this time managed to drop off his perch, when he found the head protruding was that of the excellent lessee of the Theatre Royal, Mr. Lewis. As he was quite as polite a man as the worthy lessee himself, on finding to whom he had been indebted for his ride, he made a very low bow, with thanks for his most welcome "lift," exclaiming with Buckingham, "I will remember that your Grace is bountiful." In very sharp tones "John" was told to drive on, while my friend walked away, quietly laughing in his sleeve at the success of his impudence, but regretting that he had not alighted sooner to be nearer home.

Surprising are the changes that have taken place on the West Derby-road of late years. It was originally called Rake-lane, and Rocky-lane from Richmond-hill. A complete little town has sprung up upon its pleasant meadows and bountiful cornfields. The Zoological Gardens, within a very few years, was the uttermost verge of this suburb. I recollect very well the opening of those once beautiful gardens. They were projected by the late Mr. Atkins, a gentleman who was the proprietor of the largest travelling-menagerie in the country. The place he had selected for his undertaking was called "Plumpton's Hollow." This was originally a large excavation, whence brick-clay which abounds in the neighbourhood had been obtained. Mr. Atkins, possessing great taste and judgment, was highly favoured and much thought of by the late Lord Derby, who consulted him on many occasions and honoured him with his patronage, benefiting the gardens as much as he could, by adding to the collection. Mr. Atkins chose this site for his gardens, believing it to be far enough out of town for the convenience of the public, and healthy enough for the due growth of his trees and plants, and the well-being of his animals. The Zoological Gardens were, under Mr. Atkin's management, very different, by all accounts, from what they are now. I have seen on fine summer days, numbers of ladies of the highest respectability taking the air in them, accompanied by their children, while at night the attendance was most excellent, being patronized by the highest families in the town who seemed to enjoy the amus.e.m.e.nts provided with the utmost zest and relish.

The collection of animals was remarkable at that time. Captains of vessels frequently brought rare and curious animals as presents, so that every week some new specimen of interest was added. I look back with pleasure to the many hours I have spent in the Gardens shortly after their being opened. They were admirably conducted, and in great repute as a zoological collection. Mr. Atkins took his idea of forming them from the success of the Gardens then lately established in Regent's Park, and at Kennington, in Surrey.

A great sensation was once produced by the abduction of a Miss Turner from Miss Daulby's School, on the West Derby-road, by Mr. E. Gibbon Wakefield. This is the white house that stands retired a field distant from the road, on the right hand side, about a quarter of a mile beyond the Zoological Gardens.