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Recollections of Old Liverpool
by: James Stonehouse
Description:
Excerpt
CHAPTER I.
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 events, persons, and circumstances, that occurred so long ago as to be almost forgotten by everybody else.
I can recollect every occurrence that has fallen under my cognizance, since I was six years old. I do not remember so well events that have taken place during the last twenty or thirty years, as they seem confused to me; but whatever happened of which I had some knowledge during my boyish days and early manhood, is most vividly impressed upon my memory. My family have been long-livers. My father was ninety odd, when he died, my mother near that age at her death. My brother and sister are still living, are healthy, and, like myself, in comfortable circumstances.
I may be seen any fine day on the Pier-head or Landing-stage, accompanied by one of my dear great grandchildren; but you would not take me to be more than sixty by my air and appearance.
We lived in a street out of Church-street, nearly opposite St. Peter’s. I was born there. At that time the churchyard was enclosed by trees, and the gravestones were erect. One by one the trees died or were destroyed by mischievous boys, and unfortunately they were not replaced. The church presented then a very pretty appearance. Within the last thirty years there was one tree standing nearly opposite to the Blue Coat School. When that tree died, I regretted its loss as of an old friend. The stocks were placed just within the rails, nearly opposite the present extensive premises occupied by the Elkingtons. Many and many a man have I seen seated in them for various light offences, though in many cases the punishment was heavy, especially if the culprit was obnoxious in any way, or had made himself so by his own conduct. The town boys were very cruel in my young days. It was a cruel time, and the effects of the slave-trade and privateering were visible in the conduct of the lower classes and of society generally. Goodness knows the town boys are cruel now, but they are angels to what their predecessors were. I think education has done some good. All sorts of mischievous tricks used to be played upon the culprits in the stocks; and I have seen stout and sturdy fellows faint under the sufferings they endured. By the way, at the top of Marybone, there was once a large pond, called the Flashes, where there was a ducking-post and this was a favourite place of punishment when the Lynch Law of that time was carried out. I once saw a woman ducked there. She might have said with Queen Catherine:—
“Do with me what you will,
For any change must better my condition.”
There was a terrible row caused once by the rescue of a woman from the Cuckstool. At one time it threatened to be serious. The mayor was dining at my father’s, and I recollect he was sent for in a great hurry, and my father and his guests all went with him to the pond. The woman was nearly killed, and her life for long despaired of. She was taken to the Infirmary, on the top of Shaw’s Brow, where St. George’s Hall now stands. The way they ducked was this. A long pole, which acted as a lever, was placed on a post; at the end of the pole was a chair, in which the culprit was seated; and by ropes at the other end of the lever or pole, the culprit was elevated or dipped in the water at the mercy of the wretches who had taken upon themselves the task of executing punishment. The screams of the poor women who were ducked were frightful. There was a ducking tub in the House of Correction, which was in use in Mr....