Recollections of Old Liverpool Part 6

was given to the street; and it has continued to be occupied by families of the highest respectability, and especially of late years by the medical profession.

I recollect a rather curious circ.u.mstance, connected with one of the best houses in this street, which caused some amus.e.m.e.nt at the time amongst those who were acquainted with the particulars and the parties. It was a complete instance of "turning the tables." About thirty years, or more, ago, a gentleman lived in Rodney-street, whose commercial relations required him to be frequently in the metropolis. He found his presence there was likely to be continuous, and determined to give up his house in Liverpool and reside permanently in London. He, therefore, took steps to let his house (which he held under lease at one hundred and five pounds per annum) by advertising it, and putting a bill in the window to that effect. To his surprise he received a notice from his landlord informing him that by the tenure of his lease, to which he was referred, he would find that he could not sub-let. Finding this to be the case, he went to the owner of the property, and expressed a desire to be released from his occupancy on fair terms, offering to find a substantial tenant and pay half a year's rent. The landlord, knowing he had a good tenant, rejected this offer in a way somewhat approaching to rudeness. Finding himself tied to the stake, as it were, the gentleman inquired under what terms he could be released? The answer was, that nothing short of twelve months rent and a tenant, would suffice to obtain a release. Without making a reply to this proposal, the gentleman went his way. A few mornings after this interview, the owner of the house, in pa.s.sing, saw a man painting the chequers {197} on the door cheeks, and on looking up found that "--- --- was licensed to sell beer by retail, to be drunk on the premises."

Astonished at this proceeding, he ordered the painter to stop his work, but the painter told him he was paid for the job, and do it he would. On being told who it was that spoke to him his reply was that he did not care, and that he might go to a place "where beer is not sold by retail nor on the premises," for aught he cared. Furious at this insolence, the angry landlord sent word to his tenant that he wanted to see him, at the same time giving him notice of what he would do if he persisted in appropriating the house to the purpose intimated. The only answer returned was, that the tenant would be at "the beer-shop" at ten in the morning, where he would meet his landlord. At ten, accordingly, the old gentleman went to his tenant, and on meeting him asked him what was the meaning of his proceedings. "Why," replied the tenant, "I find by my lease that it is true I cannot sub-let, and as you will not accept what I consider fair terms of release, I intend, for the remainder of my term, to keep the place open as a beer-shop. I have taken out a license, bought furniture for the purpose, and here comes the first load of forms and tables" (at that moment, sure enough, up came a cart heavily laden with all sorts of beer-house requisites). "I intend to make the drawing-room a dancing saloon, and the garden a skittle alley. I have engaged an old warehouseman to manage the business for me, and if we don't do a roaring business, I hope to make enough to pay your rent, and become free from loss." The intense anger of the landlord may be imagined; and he left the house uttering threats of the utmost vengeance of the law; but on an interview with his attorney he found there was no redress--a beer-shop was "not in the bond." He, therefore, went again to his refractory tenant, for it was clear that if the house was once opened as a beer-shop, the adjoining property would be deteriorated. He was smilingly greeted, and his tenant regretted that he had not tapped his ale, or he would have offered him a gla.s.s. "Come, Mr. ---," said the landlord, "let us see if we cannot arrange this matter. I am now willing to accept your offer of half a year's rent, and a tenant." "No," said Mr. ---, "I cannot think of such terms now." "Well, then, suppose you give me a quarter's rent, and find me the tenant." "No!" "Then the rent without the tenant." "No!" "Then a tenant without the rent." "No; but I will tell you what I'll agree to, my good sir--you see, I have been put to some expense. I made you a fair, and, as I think, a liberal offer, which you would not accept. Now, if you will reimburse me all the expense I have been put to, and pay 10 pounds to the town charities, I will abandon my beer-house scheme, undertake to give up the key, and close the account between us." With these terms the landlord eventually complied, thus having "the tables fairly turned" upon him.

c.o.c.k-fighting was at one time a favourite sport in Liverpool, amongst the lower orders, and, indeed, amongst all other cla.s.ses too. In a street leading out of Pownall-square (so called after Mr. William Pownall, whose death was accelerated during his mayoralty in 1708, in consequence of a severe cold, caught in suppressing a serious riot of the Irish which occurred in the night-time in a place near the Salthouse Dock, called the Devil's acre), there was a famous c.o.c.k-pit. The street is now called c.o.c.kspur-street. Where the c.o.c.k-pit stood there is a small dissenting chapel, and the entrance to it may be found up a court. This c.o.c.k-pit was the resort of all the low ruffians of the neighbourhood. In consequence of the disturbances which continually took place, it was suppressed as the neighbourhood increased in population. It is rather singular that in more than one instance c.o.c.k-pits have been converted into places of public worship. The c.o.c.k-pit at Aintree, for instance, was so converted; and the first sermon preached in it was by the Rev. Dr.

Hume, who skilfully alluded to the scenes that had been enacted in it, without in the least offensively describing them. That sermon was a remarkable one, and made a great impression on the congregation a.s.sembled there for the first time. The late Lord Derby was an enthusiastic c.o.c.k-fighter, and kept a complete set of trainers and attendants. When I was a boy, it was thought nothing of to attend a c.o.c.k-fight, and, such was the pa.s.sion for this cruel sport, that many lads used to keep c.o.c.ks for the purpose.

It is a curious thing to watch the changes that have taken place from time to time in different neighbourhoods as to the character of the inhabitants. Where at one time we may have found the aristocracy of the town a.s.sembling, we have noticed its respectability gradually fading away, and those who inhabited large mansions removing elsewhere. For instance, Rose-hill, Cazneau-street (called after Mr. Cazneau; at one time a pretty street indeed, with gardens in front of all the houses), and Beau-street, were fashionable suburban localities. St. Anne-street abounded in handsome mansions and was considered the court-end of the town. The courtly tide then set southward; Abercromby-square, and its neighbourhood sprung up, and so surged outward to Aigburth one way and to West Derby another. Everton I have already spoken of. I remember the houses in Faulkner-terrace remaining for years unfinished, and it was at one time called "Faulkner's Folly," from the notion that no one would ever think of living so far out of the town. Mr. Faulkner, however, proved himself to be more long-sighted than those who ridiculed his undertaking.

I remember the present Haymarket a field with a rivulet flowing through the midst of it, and the whole of this neighbourhood fields and gardens.

In Cazneau-street there was an archery lodge, a portion of which is still standing.

I remember, too, the erection of Richmond Fair, in 1787. It was projected by a Mr. Dobb, who dwelt in a bay-windowed house still standing in St. Anne-street. He intended it for a Cloth Hall for the Irish factors to sell their linens in, which they brought in great quant.i.ties at that time to Liverpool. The Linen Hall at Chester gave him the idea of this undertaking. It took very well at first, but in consequence of complaints being made by the shopkeepers in the town that the dealers in linen, instead of selling wholesale were carrying on an extensive retail trade and injuring their business, the authorities stopped all further traffic in it, and, after remaining some years unoccupied, it has of late been converted into small tenements.

CHAPTER XII.

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 gallery, the latter taking the place of boxes in other theatres; and, yet the scenery was excellent, the actors, many of them, very clever, and the getting up of the pieces as good as could be in so small a place. The pantomimes at Christmas were capital. The charges of admission were: to the pit 3d., and to the gallery, 6d. The audiences, whether men or women, boys or girls, were the roughest of the rough. The quant.i.ty of copper coin taken at the doors was prodigious; and I am told that it occupied two persons several hours, daily, to put the money up into the usual five-shilling packages. Mr. Holloway used to stand at one door and his wife at the other, to receive the admission money. When the audience was a.s.sembled, the former would go into the pit and there pack the people, so that no s.p.a.ce should be lost. He would stuff a boy into one, or a little girl into another seat, and leave them to settle down into their proper places; giving one a buffet and another a knock on the head, just to encourage the others to keep order and be obedient to his will and wish. There was no s.p.a.ce lost in the pit of Holloway's theatre, whatever there might be anywhere else. A thriving business was carried on in this little bit of a theatre, and if the highest cla.s.s of performances was not produced, nothing at any time offensive to order and morality was permitted.

I remember a good joke in which a gentlemen whom I knew, connected with one of our newspapers, and a leading actress at the Theatre Royal, were concerned, in connection with a visit to the _Sans Pareil_. The lady was very desirous to see a piece which was got up with great _eclat_ at the _Sans Pareil_, and which was attracting crowds of people to see it. I think it was ent.i.tled "Maria Martin; or, the Murder at the Red Barn."

Having expressed her wish to my friend, he at once offered to escort her any evening on which she was disengaged. Fixing, therefore a night when her services in Williamson-square were not required, my friend and the fair _comedienne_ betook themselves to Great Charlotte-street and presented themselves at the gallery door where the gentleman tendered the price of their admission. Now the lady had a thick veil on that she might, as she hoped, conceal her well-known features. But it seems that Mr. Holloway had at once recognised his fair visitor. On the money being tendered to Mrs. Holloway at the gallery door, Mr. H. called out from his door, "Pa.s.s 'em in--all right, missus." Now my friend was well aware that Mr. Holloway knew him, and therefore supposed that as a press man he would not allow him to pay--not supposing for a minute that the m.u.f.fled up figure of his companion had been recognised.

So in they went and managed to climb up the half ladder, half stair, that led to the "aristocratic" region of the auditory part of the theatre.

These stairs were frightfully dirty and steep. A broom had not been near them for months, and the lady, picking up her ample skirts, endeavoured to avoid all contact with both stairs and walls. On emerging from the top landing into the theatre, they found the place in a state of semi-darkness. They could just make out a few rows of benches, and cl.u.s.tering in the middle front were about thirty people. The noise was horrible, and seemed more so through the prevailing darkness. Shoutings, bawlings, whistlings, and screamings were in full swing, and the lady paused for a moment, whispering to her companion, "Oh, let's go back--I can't stand this at any price."

My friend, however, urged his companion to remain, and at length they managed to scramble forward, and secure a front seat at one side. The clamour was now added to by the entrance of the band, who mingled the sounds of tuning instruments with the other discords prevalent. Just at this juncture in came Mr. Holloway, who commenced the packing process, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of our lady friend, who now began, in spite of the heat, the offensive smells, and the row, to become curious, and determined to see all that was to be seen. Presently the lights were fully turned on, and the orchestra struck up a lively medley tune, suitable to the taste of the audience. The orchestra, though small, was a good one, and some very clever performers were amongst its members.

The play at length commenced, and appeared to create great interest and command attention. The lady admitted that the characters were well represented, and the drama very creditably got up. At length came a very sensational portion of the play. That part where _Maria Martin_ is enticed into the Red Barn by _Corder_. In this exciting scene, _Maria_, as if having a presentiment of her fate, stands still and refuses to move. She appears in a state of stupor and _Corder_ endeavours to urge her to accompany him. Now there were seated in the middle of the pit two sweeps, who appeared deeply interested in the performance, and finding that _Corder_ could not induce _Maria_ to go forward, one of them, amidst the silence that the cunning of the scene had commanded, screamed out--"Why don't you give her some snuff, and make her sneeze!" The silence thus broken was broken indeed, and the house roared with laughter. Our two friends were not backward in partaking of the merriment. The lady went almost into hysterics, so violent were her paroxysms of mirth. In the midst of the clamour, Holloway, hearing these loud bursts of laughter at a time when there should be complete silence, rushed on to the stage, fancying something had gone wrong. Darting to the footlights, as well as his little fat figure would let him, he roared out, "What's all this here row about?" and glancing round to see on whom he could heap his vengeance, he caught sight of our two friends, and looking up indignantly at them, he continued--"I von't have no row in my the-a-ter. If you vants to kick up a row you'd better go the The-a-ter R'yal." The audience seeing Mr. Holloway addressing the gallery, all eyes were now turned up to where our friends were seated, and the lady, (who had thrown up her veil in consequence of the intense heat) being recognised, was saluted by some one shouting out "Three cheers for Mrs.

---," whereupon the audience began hurrahing, in the midst of which our two adventurers made off as quickly as they could. They declared that neither of them could tell how they did so, being conscious of nothing until they found themselves breathing the fresh air in Lime-street.

When Stephen Price, the American manager, was in Liverpool beating up recruits, in, I think, 1831, Templeton, the tenor singer, was playing at the Theatre Royal. At that time Madame Malibran had made Templeton famous, by selecting him to enact the part of _Elvino_ to her _Amina_, and thus a very second-rate singer suddenly jumped into the first place in public opinion, by his a.s.sociation with the gifted woman who enchanted all her hearers. Templeton waited on Price relative to an engagement in America, when the following conversation took place:--"I should like to go to America, Mr. Price, if you and I could agree about terms." "Very good, Mr. Templeton. What would you expect, Mr. Templeton?" "Well, I should just expect my pa.s.sage out and home, and thirty 'punds' a week, Mr. Price, to begin with." "Very good, Mr. Templeton." "And all my travelling expenses, from toun to toun." "Very good, Mr. Templeton.

Anything else, Mr. Templeton?" "My board and lodging in every toun, Mr.

Price." "Very good, Mr. Templeton. Any thing else, Mr. Templeton?" "And a clear benefit in every toun, also, Mr. Price." "Very good. Anything else, Mr. Templeton?" "Well--no--I--ah--no!--nothing occurs to me just now, Mr. Price." "Well, then," said Mr. Price, "I'll see you d---d first, Mr. Templeton."

There was a very good story current in Liverpool, some twenty-five years ago, about Mr. W. J. Hammond, a then great favourite, both as actor and manager, and an acquaintance of mine. About that time a very flashy gentleman went into the Adelphi Hotel, and after making minute inquiry as to the bill of fare, and what he could have for dinner, at length ordered "a mutton chop to be ready for him at five o'clock." Five o'clock came, and also the traveller, who sat down in the coffee room to his banquet.

He helped himself to the water at his own table and then emptied the bottles at the next, and at length called on the waiter for a further supply. When the mutton chop was duly finished, the waiter inquired what wine his "lordship" would take. "Oh!--ah!--wine! I'll take--another bottle of--'water.'" "Pray, sir," said the waiter (leaning the tips of his thumbs upon the table) with a most insinuating manner--"Pray, sir, would you like the _Bootle_ or the _Harrington_ water?" Hammond heard this, and agreed, with the friend referred to, to enter the Hotel, one at each door, and severally call out, one for a gla.s.s of "Harrington," and the other for a gla.s.s of "Bootle" water. "Waiter, some Bootle water!"

came from a voice at the Copperas-hill door. "Waiter, some Harrington water!" was the order proceeding from the traveller entering by the front door. These strange orders, breaking upon the stillness that pervades this well-conducted hotel, seemed to excite great surprise in one or two aristocratic guests, who were standing in the lobby, when just at the moment Mr. Radley came out of one of the rooms and recognised the jokers.

Taking them into his sanctum, he provided them with something stronger than the stream from the good old red sandstone. After a short time Mr.

R. was called out, and the two guests began to get impatient at his non-return. Hammond declared that he must go--so did his friend; but they both thought it would seem unmannerly to leave the hotel without seeing their entertainer. Which should remain? However, Hammond soon cut the matter short by bolting out of the room and locking the door.

His friend sat patiently enough for some little time, fully expecting Mr.

Radley's return, but, while waiting, fell asleep. When he awoke he found himself in darkness, wondering where he could possibly be. After groping about some time, he discovered that the door was locked. The trick Hammond had played him then flashed across his mind. Hunting about, he at length found the bell which soon brought some one to the door, and on its being opened a rather severe questioning took place, as to how the visitor got there and what was his object. Mr. Radley having in the meantime gone home, he could not be referred to. It was only after sending for some person who knew the gentleman that he was released, and certainly not without some suspicions attaching to his visit and his peculiar position.

I recollect a good anecdote of a favourite actor in Liverpool some twenty years ago, when he was engaged at the Theatre Royal as one of the stock company. Mr. S--- was a constant church-goer, as many actors and actresses are, although those who do not know them fancy they cannot be either good or religious--a great mistake. Mr. S--- was accommodated by a friend, who had a very handsomely fitted up pew in St. A---'s Church, with the use of it, and Mr. S--- occupied it so long that he quite considered it to be his own; and it was a standing joke amongst his intimates that on all occasions "my pew" was referred to. Being out one night rather late, with some "jolly companions," he and they found, on comparing timepieces, that if they were not quick in getting home unpleasant consequences would ensue amongst their domestic relations.

Said one, "I must be off." Said another, "If I don't make haste shall be locked out." "My boy," said S---, "never mind being locked out, I'll go and get the key of St. A---'s church, and you shall _sleep in my pew_!"

CHAPTER XIII.

On turning over my "Recollections" of our theatre, there was one circ.u.mstance 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. All the leading theatrical and musical amateurs in the town took part in that performance. I dare say that, at this distance of time even, it is well remembered by those who a.s.sisted at it, if there be any of them still amongst as. I am quite certain that the patriotic feelings which urged them to unite and give their valuable services at so trying a time must still and ever be a source of gratification to them of the highest order.

At the date I refer to, great commercial distress prevailed. Amongst the working and lower cla.s.ses the most frightful indigence and dest.i.tution were experienced.

After the battle of Waterloo all sorts of property depreciated in value.

Everything previously was at a "war price." The amount of taxation which the country had to endure may be judged when I state that for a house rented at forty pounds per annum the following were the taxes levied upon its occupier:--Window tax, 11 pounds 4s. 6d.; inhabited house duty, 2 pounds 18s. 6.; land tax, 1 pounds 16s.; highway and church rates, 2 pounds 13s. 9d.; poor rates, 18 pounds; making a total to be paid of 36 pounds 12s. 9d.! The failure of the harvest that year added also to the general distress so that the nation might have been said to have been on the very eve of bankruptcy. So bad was the flour in 1816, and so scanty the supply, that everybody seemed occupied in hunting up and inventing new modes of preparing it for consumption, as well as appropriating unheard of articles as food. I recollect even "saw-dust" was attempted to be converted into bread, while horse-beans were cooked in all sorts of ways to be made palatable, and were also ground down to a sort of flour as a subst.i.tute for wheat. The newspapers teemed with cautions to the public to use the utmost economy, while recipes without end appeared as to how bad flour could be best used and made wholesome. It will scarcely be credited that even a public notice emanated from the Town Hall on this subject, signed by Mr. Statham, the Town Clerk. I have by me a copy of it, which, as it may interest some of my readers, I will give entire. It is headed--

JOHN WRIGHT, MAYOR.

MAKING OF BREAD.

NOTICE TO HOUSEKEEPERS, AND DEALERS IN FLOUR.

Complaints having been made against some of the Flour Dealers in this town for having sold Flour unfit for the making of Bread, the Mayor thinks proper to acquaint the Public that, upon an investigation of such complaints, it appeared that in many instances blame was not imputable to the Flour Dealer, but to the Purchaser of the Flour in not having taken proper precautions in the Making of the Bread, which, owing to the state of the Flour this season, it was necessary to have taken, and which had been pointed out to the party by the Flour Dealer.

From the above circ.u.mstance, the Mayor has been induced to recommend to all Dealer's in Flour upon the Sale of any Flour which, although not unsound, may render proper precautions necessary in the use of the same, to apprise their several customers thereof; and the Mayor has been further induced to recommend to all Housekeepers the adoption of the following system in the Making of Bread:--

To boil the water and let it stand till of a proper heat, to knead the Flour well, using as little water as possible, and let it stand a sufficient time to rise; to use fresh Water Barm, and bake the Bread on the oven bottom, in small loaves of not more than 2lb. to 3lb.

weight; to use, as much as possible, Cakes or Hard Bread, and not to use the Bread new.

By Order of the Mayor, STATHAM, TOWN CLERK.

22 _Nov._ 1816.

In London the distress was so great that the people there were full of a rebellious element; at a meeting in Spitalfields, whereat the celebrated, or, if the term be more appropriate, "notorious," Henry Hunt was present, and addressed a numerous a.s.sembly, frightful disorders took place.

Meetings of large bodies of the people were held in all the leading cities and towns throughout the kingdom to pet.i.tion the Prince Regent and parliament to do something effectual to stay the tide of calamity that seemed to be setting steadily in to overwhelm the nation.

The pet.i.tion from Liverpool was most numerously and respectably signed; and I recollect that so determined were the memorialists to ascertain whether their pet.i.tion had been properly presented that a correspondence took place on the subject and was made public, between his worship the mayor, Sir W. Barton, and General Gascoigne, one of our members, relative to its having reached its destination.

The price of wheat in the month of December, 1816, was 21s. per 70lbs., while the quartern loaf of 4lb. 5oz. cost 1s. 6.75d. The penny loaf only weighed 3oz. 1.25 dr.

To the credit of the working cla.s.ses in Liverpool, the utmost patience and forbearance was exhibited under intense sufferings. I recollect well the energy exhibited by the gentry of the town, in their endeavours to raise funds for the general relief. The Dock Trustees employed numbers of people at 2s. a day. A large loan was raised to enable them to give unlimited employment. The leading firms in the town were subscribers to this loan, which was headed by the Norwich Union Life and Fire Office with 1000 pounds. In the churches and chapels charity sermons were constantly preached, and the clergy of all denominations urged their flocks to give anything at all, and not to withhold even their mites.

Gentlemen formed themselves into parties to canva.s.s subscriptions for the poor from house to house, while the ladies left no stone unturned to further the cause of charity. It was a most remarkable epoch in the history of this country, and certainly in Liverpool the time was as trying as could possibly be conceived. Merchants and tradesmen were daily failing. Great houses, apparently able to stand any amount of pressure, gave way, and many of the provincial banks succ.u.mbed, adding to the horrors of the time. Amongst other schemes afloat to relieve distress in Liverpool was the benefit got up at the Theatre Royal, to which I have referred. The prices of admission were doubled on the occasion. The box tickets were 9s., the upper boxes, 8s., the pit, 6s., and the gallery, 2s.; and the proceeds realised no less a sum than 610 pounds! The performances were the "Poor Gentleman," "A Concert," by musical amateurs, and the burlesque of "Bombastes Furioso." The characters were personated for the most part in each of the pieces by amateurs, amongst whom were several of the leading gentlemen of the town, who spared no pains, study, nor cost to render their exertions successful.

There may be still left amongst us some of those who took part in the glory of that memorable evening of Sat.u.r.day, December 7, 1816. At this distant time, they may still indulge in a feeling of pride at their successful endeavours to further a good cause, and they will not, I am sure, be offended at an old man recording the amount of talent they exhibited, nor the zeal they manifested in fully carrying out the plan proposed for the public amus.e.m.e.nt and the welfare of the poor. I recollect there was an admirably written prologue, by Dr. Shepherd, which was as admirably delivered by Mr. J. H. Parr, in the character of _Stephen Harrowby_, a character which he personated in the play with all the finish of an experienced actor, his exertions drawing forth frequent and loud applause. _Dr. Ollapod_ was personated by Dr. Carter, who excited roars of laughter.

I recollect the names of Messrs. Aldridge, Bartleman, Cooper, Greaves, Halewood, Hime, Jackson (a distinguished violoncello player, by the way), Langhorne, Maybrick, Tayleure (a distinguished double ba.s.s), and Vaughan.

In "Bombastes Furioso," _King Artaxomines_ was personated by Mr.

Richmond; _Fusbos_ by Mr. Clay; _General Bombastes_ by Mr. J. H. Parr, who elicited shouts of laughter by his drollery and admirable acting.

Miss Grant, of the Theatre Royal Company, played _Distaffina_. The house was crowded in every part, the whole town seemed to take an interest in the matter, and every nerve was strained to command success. In fact so well did those who had undertaken the disposal of tickets succeed, that numbers of persons could not gain admission although possessing tickets, while hundreds who in vain crowded round the doors were unable to obtain entrance "for love or money." A more cordial display of goodwill was never known in this town, nor was there ever a more enthusiastic, elegant, or better pleased audience a.s.sembled within the walls of the Theatre Royal than on that occasion.

At this time there was considerable ferment in the public mind, relative to, and consequent upon, the escape of Lord Cochrane from the King's Bench prison, and when the gallant and n.o.ble lord was re-captured and re-committed with a fine of 100 pounds inflicted upon him, the men of Liverpool were early astir in the n.o.ble sailor's behalf--a subscription box was opened instantly the matter became known in Liverpool, and it was resolved that not more than a "penny" should be given by each person towards the fine, and each subscriber should, on payment of his money, sign his name and address. A shop at the corner of John-street and Dale-street, was one place appointed for the reception of pence and names, while another was in Mersey-street opposite the end of Liver-street. Crowds of persons were a.s.sembled round these places who loudly and admiringly canva.s.sed the n.o.ble lord's conduct. He was quite the hero of his day, and in no place had his lordship more enthusiastic admirers than in Liverpool amongst the liberal party. By the people generally, he was quite idolized. In a very short time 2500 pence and names were obtained, and had 25,000 been wanted, I am sure they would have been as readily subscribed. As it may be interesting to some of my readers to know how the 100 pounds fine was paid, I can give them some particulars thereupon, 85 pounds was paid in bank notes, 5 pounds in silver, and 10 pounds in copper. It was said in a joke, that if the whole amount had been tendered in bra.s.s it would have been readily accepted, so glad were authorities to get rid of so troublesome a customer.