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 cumber 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 noble 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
shore 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 Cumberland, 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 glass. 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 faggots 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 basement 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.