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
ostensibly known purpose. Respecting many of these mysterious records of
a past age, page after page has been written to prove, and even disprove,
the supposed intent of their constructors; and it cannot but be admitted
that after perusing many an erudite disquisition, we are sometimes as
well-informed, and as near arriving at a conclusion as to the original
purpose for which the object under discussion was intended, as when our
attention was first engaged in it. In some instances, those who have
discovered uses for the strange remnants of, to us, a dark age, have
exceeded in ingenuity the projectors of those relics.
Could we draw aside the thick veil that hides the future from us, we
might perhaps behold our great seaport swelling into a metropolis, in
size and importance, its suburbs creeping out to an undreamt-of distance
from its centre; or we might, reversing the picture, behold Liverpool by
some unthought-of calamity--some fatal, unforeseen mischance, some
concatenation of calamities--dwindled down to its former insignificance:
its docks shipless, its warehouses in ruins, its streets moss-grown, and
in its decay like some bye-gone cities of the east, that once sent out
their vessels laden with "cloth of blue, and red barbaric gold." Under
which of these two fates will Liverpool find its lot some centuries
hence?--which of these two pictures will it then present? Be it one or
the other, the strange undertakings of Joseph Williamson will perhaps,
some centuries from now, be brought again to light, and excite as much
marvel and inquiry as any mysterious building of old, the purpose of
which we do not understand, and the use of which we cannot now account
for. They will be seemingly as meaningless as any lonely cairn, isolated
broken piece of wall, or solitary fragment of a building, of which no
principal part remains, and which puzzles us to account for at the
present time.
Mr. Williamson's property at Edge-hill, was principally held under the
Waste Lands Commission. His leases expired in 1858. It commenced
adjoining Miss Mason's house, near Paddington, and extended to
Grinfield-street. It was bounded on the west by Smithdown-lane, along
which ran a massive stone wall of singular appearance, more like that of
a fortress than a mere enclosure. Within this area were some of the most
extraordinary works, involving as great an outlay of money as may be
found anywhere upon the face of the earth, considering the space of
ground they occupy. In their newly-wrought state, about the years 1835
and '36, or thereabouts, they created intense wonder in the minds of the
very few who were permitted to examine them. During the last few years,
I believe they have been gradually filled up and very much altered, but
they are still there to be laid open some day. Few of us know much of
them, though so few years have elapsed since they were projected and
carried out, since the sounds of the blast, the pick, and the shovel were
last heard in their vicinity. Now what will be said of these minings,
subterranean galleries, vaults and arches, should they suddenly be
discovered a century hence, when their originator as well as their origin
shall have faded away into nothing like the vanishing point of the
painter? Here we behold an astonishing instance of the application of
vast labour without use, immense expense incurred without hope of return,
and, if we except the asserted reason of the late projector that these
works were carried on for the sole purpose of employing men in times of
great need and depression, we have here stupendous works without
perceptible motive, reason, or form. Like the catacombs at Paris,
Williamson's vaults might have been made receptacles for the dried bones
of legions of our forefathers. Again, they might have been converted
into fitting places for the hiding of stolen goods, or where the illicit
distiller might carry on his trade with impunity.
I hardly know in what tense to speak of those excavations, not being
aware in what state they are at present. A strange place it is, or was.
Vaulted passages cut out of the solid rock; arches thrown up by
craftmen's hands, beautiful in proportion and elegant in form, but
supporting nothing. Tunnels formed here--deep pits there. Yawning
gulfs, where the fetid, stagnant waters threw up their baneful odours.
Here the work is finished off, as if the mason had laboured with
consummate skill to complete his work, so that all the world might see
and admire, although no human eyes, save those of the master's, would
ever be set upon it. Here lies the ponderous stone as it fell after the
upheaving blast had dislodged it from its bed; and there, vaulted over,
is a gulf that makes the brain dizzy, and strikes us with terror as we
look down into it. Now we see an arch, fit to bridge a mountain torrent;
and in another step or two we meet another, only fit to span a simple
brook. Tiers of passages are met with, as dangerous to enter as they are
strange to look at. It must ever be a matter of regret that after Mr.
Williamson's death, some one able to make an accurate survey of the
property did not go through and describe it, because it has been greatly
changed since then by the accumulations of rubbish that have been brought
to every part of it. All the most elaborate portions of the excavations
have been entirely closed up. In one section of the ground (that near
Grinfield-street), where there was of late years a joiner's shop, the
ground was completely undermined in galleries and passages, one over the
other, constituting a subterranean labyrinth of the most intricate
design. Near here also was a deep gulf, in the wall sides of which were
two houses completely excavated out of the solid rock, each having four
rooms of tolerable dimensions.
This chasm is now quite filled up. The terrace extending from
Grinfield-street to Miss Mason's house is threaded with passages, vaults,
and excavations. At the northern corner there is a tunnel eight feet
high, and as many wide, which runs up from what was once an orchard and
garden, to a house in Mason-street. The tunnel is, I should think, 60
yards long. As the ground rises up the hill, there are several flights
of stone steps with level resting-places. About two-thirds up, where the
first flight is encountered, may be seen a portion of a large vault which
runs a short way southwardly. A small portion of the top of the arch,
between it and the steps, is left open, but for what reason I never could
make out. The further end of this vault opens into another great vault,
which I shall presently describe. The passage is very dry, but the air
has a cold "gravey" taint, very unpleasant to inhale. At the second
landing there is a sort of recess, into which rubbish from the garden
above is shot down through a spout or funnel. At the top of the passage
is a doorway opening upon the back of a house in Mason-street. This
passage or tunnel was evidently intended for a mode of communication
between the house and the orchard. In the garden or orchard, and near
the tunnel mouth, were four lofty recesses, like alcoves, three of which
were four feet deep. In one of those recesses, which was carried much
further back than the others, the stones were lying as they fell, and
there was a channel on one side of the flooring which seemed to have been
intended for a drain. Through a large folding gate access is obtained
from Smithdown-lane into a wide passage or vault, in shape like a
seaman's speaking trumpet. It is broad enough to accommodate two carts
at least, and has been used when the stone has been carted away from the
delph at its eastern end. This vault is constructed of brick. It
gradually deepens at the eastern end, and is about 15 feet wide, and 20
high. At the opening it is not more than 15 high. The top outside is
covered by soil, and forms part of the garden previously mentioned. At
the left hand side of the tunnel end will be found a vault, running
northward for about fifty or sixty feet. The end of this vault is the
limit of Mr. Williamson's property. The tunnel already described as
running up to Mason-street crosses the top of this vault. This vault is
about thirty-six feet wide and perhaps thirty feet high, but the floor
has been considerably raised since Mr. Williamson's time by debris and
rubbish of all sorts thrown into it. In the right hand corner of the
vault, about ten feet from the ground, there is the mouth of a tunnel
which runs up first towards Mason-street, it then turns and winds in a
variety of ways in passages continuing under the houses in Mason-street,
and opening upon many of the vaults. To the left of the entrance vault,
there is a large square area from which immense masses of red sandstone
have been quarried. It is forty feet from side to side. There is a
vault in the southern wall opposite the wall just described. It runs
towards Grinfield-street, and is composed of two large arches side by
side, surmounted by two smaller ones. In the eastern face of the quarry
there is an immense arch perhaps sixty feet high; and about thirty feet
from its entrance there is an immense and massive stone pier from which
spring two arches on each side, one above the other, but not from the
same level. The pier is hollowed on the inside by three arches. On the
left hand wall inside the arch there are two large arches, from which
vaults run northwardly, and on the right hand side of the wall there are
also two vaults which extend to a great distance in a southwardly
direction, towards Grinfield-street. From these vaults, other vaults
branch off in all sorts of directions. The houses in Mason-street all
rest upon these arches; and as you passed along the street, the depth of
some of them at one time was visible through the grids. The construction
of these arches is of the most solid description, and seems stable as the
earth itself. There are some openings of vaults commenced at the end
near Grinfield-Street, but discontinued. These arches seem to have given
way and presented a curiously ruined aspect. In the lower range of
vaults there was a run of water and what Williamson called "a quagmire."
In several places there are deep wells, whence the houses in Mason-Street
seem to be supplied with water. Sections of arches commenced, but left
unfinished, were visible at one time in various places. The lowest range
of arches opening from the Grinfield-street end run to the northward.
From the roof of many of these vaults were stalactites, but of no great
length. The terraced gardens are ranged on arches all solidly built.
The houses in Mason-street are strange constructions. In one house I saw
there was no window in one good-sized room, light being obtained through
a funnel carried up to the roof of the house through an upper floor and
room. This strange arrangement arose from Mr. Williamson having no plan
of the house he was building for the men to work by, consequently it was
found the windows had been forgotten. He never had, I believe, any
drawings or plans of either his houses or excavations. The men were told
to work on till he ordered them to stop. In another house I went through
there was an immense room which appeared as if two stories had been made
into one. The bedroom--I believe there was only one in the house--was
gained by an open staircase, run up by the side of the west wall of the
large room. After passing the room door you mounted another flight of
stairs which terminated in a long lobby, which ran over the top of the
adjoining house, to two attics. The gardens of this house were
approached by going down several stone steps (all was solid with Mr.
Williamson) past the kitchen, which was also arched, and thence down
another flight of stone steps until you came to a lofty vaulted passage
of great breadth. You then entered a dry, wide arch. From this another
arch opened in a northwardly direction. At the end of the principal
vault was a long, narrow, vaulted passage, which was lighted by a long
iron grating which proved to be a walk in a garden belonging to two
houses at a distance. This passage then shot off at right angles, and at
length a garden was gained on a terrace, the parapet wall of which
overlooked the large opening or quarry previously described; and a
fearful depth it appeared.
Some of the backs of the Mason-street houses project, some recede, some
have no windows visible, others have windows of such length and breadth
as must have thrown any feeble-minded tax-gatherer when he had to receive
window duty into fits. These houses really appear as if built by chance,
or by a blind man who has felt his way and been satisfied with the
security of his dwelling rather than its appearance. The interiors of
these houses, however, were very commodious, when I saw them years ago.
They were strangely arranged, with very large rooms and very small ones,
and long passages oddly running about.
I recollect once going over a house in High-street which Williamson
erected. The coal vault I went into would have held at least two hundred
tons of coals. In all these vaults and places the rats swarmed in
droves, and of a most remarkable size. I once saw one perfectly white.
Wherever Williamson possessed property there did his "vaulting ambition"
exhibit itself.
Such is a brief account of Williamson and his works. A book might be
filled with his sayings and doings. Amid all his roughness he was a kind
and considerate man, and did a great deal of good in his own strange way.
His effects were sold by Trotter and Hodgkins on the 7th June, 1841, and
one of the lots, No. 142, consisted of a view of Williamson's vaults and
a small landscape. I wonder what has become of the former. Lot 171 was
a "cavern scene" which showed the bent of the man's taste.