On Sunday morning, February 11, 1810, I was standing in St. Nicholas
churchyard, in company with two old friends. We were waiting the arrival
of the congregation, and the commencement of the morning service. The
second bells were chiming. We had been looking on the river with that
interest which is always felt in gazing upon such a scene. Our
conversation had turned upon the benefits which a good sound Christian
education must confer upon the lower classes of society. Education at
the period to which I refer was then beginning to take hold of the public
mind, as an essential to the well-doing of the people. This subject in
later years, as is known, has become an absorbing question. Our remarks
had been evoked by the neat appearance of the children of the Moorfields
Schools, who had just passed near where we stood, as they entered the
church. One of us remarked in reference to the Tower close by, that it
was the dower of the Lady Blanche, the daughter of John O'Gaunt, who,
although occupying so eminently marked a place in history, was a man so
narrow-minded that he would not allow any of his vassals to receive the
least education as he held that it unfitted them for the duties of their
station, and gave them ideas far above their lot in life. A curious
speculation was hazarded by one of my friend's that as Water-street was
anciently called "Bank-street," whether the word "Bank" ought not to have
been "Blanche"-street; a name given to it in honour of the lady to whom
the principal building in the street belonged, when, just as he had
finished speaking, we heard, as if above us, a smart crack. On looking
round to ascertain the cause, a sight burst upon our view, that none who
witnessed it could ever forget. The instant we turned, we beheld the
church tower give way, on the south-west side, and immediately afterwards
the spire fell with a frightful and appalling crash into the body of the
building. The spire seemed at first to topple over, and then it dropped
perpendicularly like a pack of cards into a solid heap, burying
everything, as may be supposed, below it. There were many persons in the
churchyard, waiting to enter the sacred edifice, and, like ourselves,
were struck dumb with horror and dismay at the frightful catastrophe. We
were soon aroused to a state of consciousness, and inaction gave way to
exertion. In a very short time, the noise of the crash had brought
hundreds of persons into the churchyard to ascertain the cause. Amidst
the rising dust were heard the dreadful screams of the poor children who
had become involved in the ruins; and not long after, their screams were
added to by the frantic exclamations of parents and friends who, in an
incredibly short time had hurried to the scene of the disaster. Crowds
of people rushed into the churchyard, some hurrying to and fro, scarcely
knowing what to fear or what to do. That the children were to be exhumed
was an immediate thought, and as immediately carried into execution. Men
of all ranks were seen, quite regardless of their Sunday clothes, busily
employed in removing the ruins--gentlemen, merchants, tradesmen, shopmen
and apprentices, willingly aiding the sturdy labourers in their good
work, and, in a short time, first one little sufferer, and then another,
was dragged out from the mass of stone and brick and timber that lay in a
confused heap. Twenty-eight little ones were at length brought out, of
whom twenty-three were dead; five were alive, and were taken to the
Infirmary, but of these, only three survived. They were horribly maimed,
and so disfigured that they were scarcely recognizable. These
twenty-eight poor little bodies were at first laid in rows in the
churchyard to be claimed by their parents and friends, many of whom were
to be seen running to and fro looking distracted with the great calamity
that had befallen them. Of all the pitiable sights I ever beheld, the
sight of these little things laid on the grass was the most piteous; and,
as, one by one they were claimed and taken away--in some instances
parents claiming two, and in one instance, three children--the utmost
sympathy was felt for those who had been so suddenly bereft.
It was most fortunate that the accident did not occur half an hour--nay,
a quarter of an hour--later, or the calamity might have been such as
would have marked the day as one of the darkest in our annals--a
frightful spot in our calendar. Beside the children, there were only
about twenty people seated in the church, far from the scene of the
disaster, and they, on the first indication of danger, had fled and
sought safety outside the building. How the bell-ringers escaped, it is
impossible to tell, but escape they did, and that unhurt, with the
exception of one, who rushed back to get his clothes and was killed. It
was to their intense stupidity and obstinacy that this catastrophe may be
ascribed. Previous to the accident, they had been told that the tower
was unsafe, and on that very morning, they were advised not to ring the
bells again, until an examination of the building had taken place: but
ring they would, and ring they did, and the result of their ringing was a
death-knell unmatched in local history.
Nor were the authorities altogether free from blame. It was said that
they were apprised of the insecurity of the tower, and yet did not take
steps to avoid the accident. The escapes of people on their way to
church were wonderful, and many traced their good fortune to being tardy
in getting ready, or from leaving home at an usually late moment. The
scene of the disaster was for a long time an attraction to people
residing miles from Liverpool, and the country around sent thousands to
gaze on the unusual sight presented to their view.
In the same year the sad calamity I have just recorded took place, the
Theatre Royal was the scene of a frightful disturbance, which ended in
the trial at Lancaster of several highly respectable men, for being
partakers in it. I have a distinct recollection of this affair, and a
more disgraceful one to all parties concerned in it, cannot be imagined.
These riots were termed the H. P. riots.
In the September of the preceding year there had been considerable
agitation in the theatrical world of London, and dreadful riots had taken
place as to the old prices, and the question was whether new and advanced
prices should be charged for admission to the theatres. A number of
individuals, as many as forty, were tried for the offence of rioting at
Covent Garden, when, to the surprise of everyone, the whole of the party
were found "Not guilty."
There is no doubt that this strange verdict in reference to most
outrageous and unjustifiable conduct had put it into the heads of many
people in Liverpool that similar conduct might be indulged in, with like
impunity, respecting the Theatre Royal. There had been frequent attempts
made to induce the lessees of the theatre, Messrs. Lewis and Knight, to
permit a half-price to be taken. The plea for the request was that
numbers of persons who would like occasionally to visit a theatre were
debarred doing so from the fact that their hours of employment were so
late that they could not get away in time to attend when the performances
commenced, and they thought it a hard case that they should be obliged to
pay full price for only half the quantity of amusement. The lessees
pleaded their expenses were just the same, whether the people came at
full price or half-price, and since the Theatre Royal had been
established no such arrangement had been attempted, and as it would not
pay them to concede a half price they declined to do so. They said their
undertaking in the theatre was a private speculation for a public
purpose, and they had no right to be compelled to do, what no other
tradesmen would be expected to do, that is, prosecute their business at a
loss. The play-goers, however, seemed determined to carry things with a
high hand, and endeavour to force Messrs. Lewis and Knight to come to
their terms. The season was announced to commence on the 11th of May,
1810, when there appeared, a few days previously, on the walls of the
town the following placard:--
THE THEATRE OPENS
ON MONDAY NEXT, 11TH MAY.
THE MANAGERS
Have been requested to permit admission at
HALF-PRICE,
As in London, etc. (and elsewhere), but they still persist in the
injustice of demanding FULL PRICES, from those who have it not in
their power to attend until a very late hour, when a good and
material part of the performance is over! We have even a greater
right to the indulgence than the London audiences--
LET US
BOLDLY CLAIM IT
AND
WE MUST SUCCEED!!
This placard was followed by others. An abusive letter also made its
appearance, as well as a pamphlet equally offensive, in which the lessees
were held up to scorn, ridicule, and opprobrium. In fact, every step was
taken to excite the (play-going) public mind on the subject of
"half-price or full-price."
When the opening night arrived, crowds of people assembled outside the
theatre, and the rush to get in, when the doors opened, was immense.
Numbers of places had been previously taken in the boxes, by persons who
were seen to be most actively engaged in the riots in the theatre
afterwards. No sooner had the curtain rose to the play of "Pizarro" than
the row began--shoutings, bawlings, whistlings, hornblowings, turnings of
rattles, flappings of clappers, and every noise that could be made by the
human voice was indulged in, and the uproar seemed to increase as the
night went on--such a scene of confusion can hardly be conceived, and
amidst the turbulence that reigned placards were exhibited demanding
"half-price." In vain the managers attempted to obtain a hearing--in
vain favourite actors came forward, hoping to be heard--the play
proceeded, but all in "inexplicable dumb show and noise." These riots
were repeated on the nights of the 14th and 16th, when it was found
necessary to close the theatre. Each night the same riotous behaviour
was exhibited. In fact, to such an extent had it arrived that the Mayor
was at length sent for, and read the Riot Act. The mob outside threw
brick-bats, stones, and all sorts of missiles at the windows, which they
completely smashed, breaking away even the woodwork of the frames. The
people outside kept bawling "Half-price!" and when any of the known
adherents of the full price attempted to get out of the theatre they were
driven back and insulted, while those in favour of "Half-price" were
cheered and applauded most vociferously. At length, it was determined by
the magistrates that the strong arm of the law should be stretched out,
and in consequence, six persons who had been most active in the
disturbances were arrested, and brought to trial at the autumn assizes at
Lancaster, for conspiracy and riot. These delinquents were all gentlemen
of position in the town, and, as may be supposed, the case excited the
utmost attention and interest. The case was tried on the 14th September.
Sir Robert Graham was the judge. I remember Serjeant Cockle was for the
prosecution, assisted by Messrs. Park, Topping, Holroyd, and Clark,
nearly all of whom, by the way, I think, have since obtained seats on the
judicial bench. The council for the defence were Messrs. Raine, Scarlett
(afterwards Sir James Scarlett), Raincock, and Richardson. Sergeant
Cockle, in opening the case highly lauded Messrs. Lewis and Banks as
actors, men, and citizens, and pointed out to the jury how monstrous the
conduct of the prisoners had been, in attempting to force an unprofitable
movement upon anyone. I recollect he made use of this remarkable
expression, "that every person resorting to a theatre has a right to
express his dissatisfaction against any thing he sees, either of the
plays performed or the actors, and that he must do this honestly: but if
he conspire with others to damn any play or condemn any actor, punishment
should follow such conspiracy."
At the trial Mr. Statham, the Town Clerk, gave also evidence for the
prosecution. After the court had been occupied some time, and many
witnesses had been examined, an attempt was made on the part of the judge
to effect a compromise, His Lordship remarking that he thought the ends
of justice had been served in the public exposure and annoyance which the
defendants had been put to, and that as the temper of the people had
subsided, and even a better understanding existed between the public and
the lessees than before, he thought it was of no use to carry the case
any further. The council for the prosecution, however, would not consent
to this; at the same time they assured the judge and the court, that the
prosecution was not carried on by the lessees, but by the magistrates of
the borough, who were determined to put a stop, by all means in their
power, to a recurrence of such disgraceful proceedings, and attempts on
the part of an unthinking public to force gentlemen to do what they did
not consider right or equitable. The verdict returned was "guilty of
riot, but not of conspiracy."