BLACKPOOL.
Blackpool is situated in the township of Layton-with-Warbreck, and
occupies a station on the west coast, about midway between the estuaries
of the rivers Ribble and Wyre. The watering-place of to-day with its
noble promenade, elegant piers, handsome hotels, and princely terraces,
forms a wonderful and pleasing contrast to the meagre group of thatched
cabins which once reared their lowly heads near the peaty pool, whose
dark waters gave rise to the name of the town. This pool, which was
located at the south end of Blackpool, is stated to have been half a mile
in breadth, and was due to the accumulation of black, or more correctly
speaking, chocolate-coloured waters,[129] from Marton Mere and the turf
fields composing the swampy region usually designated the “Moss.” It
remained until the supplies were cut off by diverting their currents
towards other and more convenient outlets, when its contents gradually
decreased, finally leaving no trace of their former site beyond a small
streamlet, which now discharges itself with the flows of Spendike into
the sea, opposite the point where the Lytham Road branches from the
promenade. The principal portion of the town stands a little removed from
the edge of a long line of cliffs, whose altitude, trifling at first,
considerably increases as they travel northwards; and from that broad
range of frontage streets and houses in compact masses run backwards
towards the country, covering an annually extending area.
One of the oldest and most interesting relics of antiquity is still
preserved in the Fox Hall Hotel, or Vaux Hall, as it is sometimes, but we
opine, for reasons stated hereafter, incorrectly written, although its
name, site, and long cobble wall are nearly the only mementoes that time
and change have failed to remove. It was here in the reign of Charles
II. that Edward, the son of the gallant and loyal Sir Thomas Tyldesley
who was slain at the battle of Wigan-lane in 1651, having been led to
expect a grant of the lands of Layton Hawes, or Heys Side, from the king,
after the restoration, in return for his own and his father’s staunch
adherence to the royal cause, built a small sequestered residence as a
summer retreat for his family. Modest and unpretending as the dimensions
appear to have been, no doubt at that time it was regarded as a stately
mansion, and looked upon with becoming respect and admiration by the
inhabitants of the few clay-built and rush-roofed huts which were
scattered around it. The house itself was a three gabled structure with
a species of tower, affording an extensive survey over the neighbouring
country; there were four or five rooms on each story, and one wing of
the building was fitted up and used as a chapel, the officiating priest
being most probably the Rev. W. Westby, the “W. W.” of the diary kept by
Thomas Tyldesley during the years he resided there. The chapel portion
of the old house was at a later period, when the remainder, after
experiencing various fortunes, had fallen into decay, converted into a
cottage. Over the chief entrance Edward had inscribed the words—“Seris
factura Nepotibus,” the motto of an order of Knighthood, called the Royal
Oak, which Charles II. contemplated establishing when first he regained
his throne, but afterwards for certain reasons[130] altered his mind,
as he also appears to have done in regard to the Hawes property, for it
never passed into the possession of the Tyldesleys by royal favour, or
in any other way. A fox secured by a chain was allowed to ramble for
a short distance in front of the doorway, and whether the presence of
that animal, together with the use of the Hall as a hunting seat, as
well as a summer retreat, originated its name, or its first title was
Vaux, and by an easy and simple process of change became altered to
Fox, the reader must decide for himself; but after he has perused the
following extract from the Tyldesley Diary, in which the priest already
mentioned is alluded to as “W. W.”, he will, we venture to think, have
little difficulty in concluding that the cognomen Vaux is merely a modern
adaptation when applied to this Hall:—
“May 14, 1712.—Left Lanʳ about ffive; pᵈ 3d. ffor a shooe at
Thurnham Cocking, having lost one. Thence to Great Singleton
to prayers, and ffrom thence to Litham to dinʳ, ffound Mr.
Blackborne, of Orford; stayed there 11 at night. Soe to ffox
hall. Gave W: W: 1s.”
Edward Tyldesley surrounded the Hall with a high and massive wall of
cobble stones, strongly cemented together, as a protection very needful
in those times of turmoil and persecution. A large portion of the wall
still exists in an almost perfect state of preservation, notwithstanding
the fierce gales and boisterous tides that have, at intervals, battered
against it for more than two centuries. This, with the additional
safeguards that nature had provided by means of the broad sea to the
front, a small stream running over swampy, almost impassable, ground to
the south, and a pool[131] under its east side, rendered the house a
secure asylum for those who were constrained to practise
“The better part of valour,”
and remove themselves for a season from the eyes of the world and their
enemies. Over the high gateway at the south end of the enclosure he
placed a stone carved with the crest of the Tyldesley family—a pelican
feeding its young—encircled by the loyal and patriotic motto—“Tantum
valet amor regis et patriæ”: for long the roughly finished piece of
carving was visible in the wall of an outbuilding, from which, however,
it has recently been removed. Fox Hall was not without its plot of garden
ground, a considerable space, being devoted to the useful products, was
known as the kitchen garden, whilst another space was devoted to an
apiary, and flowers must be supposed to have been an accompanyment of
bees. It also boasted a bowling green and an ancient fig tree.
Thomas, the son of Edward Tyldesley, born in 1657, succeeded to the
family estates on the death of his father, and later married, as his
second wife, Mary, sister and co-heiress, with Elizabeth Colley, of Sir
Alexander Rigby, knt., of Layton Hall, High-sheriff of the county of
Lancashire in 1691, whose father had erected a monument to the memory of
Sir Thomas Tyldesley near the spot where he was slain.
During the year 1690, when the dethroned monarch James II. invaded
Ireland in the hope of regaining his crown, Thomas Tyldesley prepared
a secret chamber for his reception in the interior of the Hall. The
closet or hiding-place was afterwards known as the King’s Cupboard. The
Pretender, also, was reported to have been concealed for some time within
Fox Hall, and although it is certain that this aspirant to the British
throne was never within its friendly walls, still the secret recesses,
called “priests’ holes,” with which it appears to have been liberally
provided, formed excellent refuges for the clergy and other members of
the Romish Church, who on the slightest alarm were enclosed therein, and
so secluded from the prying eyes of their hostile countrymen until the
danger had passed. These latter incidents did not take place until after
the decease of Thomas Tyldesley, who died in 1715, shortly before the
outbreak of the rebellion, and was buried at Churchtown, near Garstang.
His son Edward, who succeeded him, was arrested for taking part with
the rebels, and escaped conviction and punishment only by the mercy or
sympathy of the jury, who after returning their verdict of acquittal
were severely censured by the presiding judge for their incompetency and
disaffection. Edward Tyldesley died in 1725.[132] At what date Fox Hall
passed out of the hands of the Tyldesleys, it is impossible to trace, but
it is doubtful whether the Edward here named ever resided there, as he is
always described as of Myerscough Lodge, another seat of the family. Mary
Tyldesley, the widow of his father, whom it will be remembered he married
as his second wife, was living there as owner in 1720, and from that
circumstance we must infer that the Blackpool house was bequeathed to
her by her husband Thomas Tyldesley, and that the other portion only of
the estates fell to Edward, the son of his first marriage and his heir.
Poverty seems to have overtaken the family with rapid strides; their
different lands and residences were either mortgaged or sold, and whether
Fox Hall descended to the children of Mary Tyldesley, or returned again
into the more direct line, it is certain that not many years after the
death of Thomas Tyldesley it had ceased to be one of their possessions.
Thus, the annals of the founders of this solitary mansion carry us back
to the period between 1660 and 1685, that is from the restoration to the
death of Charles II., but certain entries in the register of Bispham
church show that there must have been dwellings and a population, however
thinly scattered, on the soil anterior to that period, sometime during
the sixteenth century, and it was doubtless the descendants of these
people who inhabited the neighbourhood when Edward Tyldesley appeared
upon the scene and erected Fox Hall. The primitive structures forming the
habitations of these aborigines were built of clay, roughly plastered
on to wattles, and thatched with rushes more frequently than straw, the
whole fabric being supported on crooks driven into the ground. About the
epoch of Thomas Tyldesley drainage and cultivation began to render the
aspect of the country more inviting, and fresh families were tempted to
come down to the coast and rear their humble abodes under the wing of
the great mansion, so that after a while a small hamlet of clustering
huts was formed. It is more than probable that the morals and conduct
of the dwellers in these huts were influenced in some way or other by
the sojourners at the Hall, but whether for good or evil we are unable
to say, as the time is now so hopelessly remote and no records of their
habits and doings are extant, so that in the absence of any proof to the
contrary, it is only fair and charitable to surmise that their lives were
as simple as their surroundings.
Whether the Tyldesleys were induced to locate themselves on this spot
solely by a prospect of possessing some of the territory around, or were
actuated also by a desire to have a retreat far removed from the scenes
of disturbance with which the different factions were constantly vexing
the land, is a matter of little importance, but to their presence it was
due that the natural beauties of Blackpool were brought before the people
at an early date. There can be no doubt that the priests and others,
who had fled to the Hall as a harbour of refuge, would, on returning
to their own districts, circulate glowing and eulogistic accounts of
the place they had been visiting—of the glorious beauty of the sea, the
endless stretch of level sands, and the bracing purity of the breeze. In
such manner a desire would readily be implanted in the bosoms of their
auditory to become personally acquainted with the new land, which had
created such a deep and favourable impression on the minds of men, whose
positions and education warranted the genuineness of their statements and
enhanced the value of their opinions. There is one other circumstance
worthy to be mentioned as having in all likelihood aided considerably in
bringing the place into notice, and that is an annual race meeting, held
for long on Layton Hawes. The proximity of the site to the residences of
so many families of wealth and distinction, as the Allens of Rossall, the
Westbys of Burn Hall, the Rigbys of Layton Hall, the Veales of Whinney
Heys, the Heskeths of Mains, the Cliftons of Lytham, and the Tyldesleys
of Blackpool, must have rendered the assembly one of no mean importance,
and we may picture in our minds the gay and brilliant scene presented
each year on the outskirts of the present town, when our ancestors in
their antique and many-hued costumes congregated to witness the contests
of their favourite steeds, and the level turf echoed to the fleet hoofs
of the horses as the varied colours of their riders flashed round the
course.
Although these incidents must have greatly tended to give publicity to
Blackpool, its early advances towards popularity were dilatory, but this
is to be attributed rather to the unsettled state of the times than to
a tardy appreciation of its advantages by those who had enjoyed them or
heard them described. During the reign of George I., 1714-1727, a mere
sprinkling of visitors seems to have been attracted each summer to the
hamlet, but a few years later, about 1735, they had become sufficiently
numerous to induce one Ethart à Whiteside to prepare a cottage specially
for their reception and entertainment. Common report whispers that he was
further prompted to the venture by being the fortunate possessor of a
wife whose skill in cookery far excelled that of any of her neighbours,
but be that as it may, whether he espoused the Welsh maiden because her
culinary accomplishments were an additional recommendation to him in
the sphere in which he had embarked, or whether the lodging house was a
cherished dream only converted into a reality on their discovery after
marriage, one thing is certain, his speculation prospered, and at the end
of fifty years he retired on what at that era was considered a fortune.
The house in which he had laboured for half a century was situated in
the fields now occupied by General Street and the neighbouring houses,
on the site of what not long ago was a ladies’ school; in appearance,
it was a very ordinary cottage with the usual straw thatch, somewhat
oblong in form and possessing few attractions to tempt the stranger to
prolong his stay, but in spite of all its disadvantages, the fascination
of the sea and the novelty of the surroundings filled it with guests
summer after summer. This dwelling claims the honour of having been the
first ever fitted up and arranged as a lodging house in Blackpool. On
the retirement of Whiteside, who a few years afterwards died at Layton,
it passed into the hands of a noted aboriginal, called Tom the Cobbler,
who appears to have held more ambitious views than his predecessor, and
converted the cottage into an inn, or at least embellished its exterior
with a rude lettered sign, and procured a license to supply exciseable
commodities within. Those who had been accustomed to the scrupulous care
and cleanliness of Whiteside and his thrifty wife, must have experienced
a considerable shock from the eccentricities of the new proprietor;
each day at the dinner hour he entered in working costume amongst the
assembled guests, and with grimy fingers produced from the depths of
his well rosined apron the allotted portion of bread for each. How
this peculiarity was appreciated by his visitors there are no means of
ascertaining, but as his dwelling did not develope in the course of years
into a modern and commodious hotel like the other licensed houses which
sprang up about that time and a little later, we are inclined to fear
that some internal mismanagement caused its collapse.
In 1769 the whole hamlet comprised no more than twenty-eight houses, or
more correctly speaking hovels, for, with the exception of four that had
been raised to the dignity of slate roofs and a small inn on the site of
the present Clifton Arms Hotel, they were little if any better. These
were scattered widely apart along the beach, and one of them standing on
the ground now occupied by the Lane Ends Hotel, and adjoining a small
blacksmith’s shed, was a favourite resort of visitors in search of
refreshment. Turf stacks fronted almost every door, and the refuse of
the household was either carelessly thrown forth or else accumulated
in putrifying heaps by the sides of the huts, so that nothing but their
isolated situations and the constant currents of pure air from the sea
sweeping over and around them could possibly have prevented the outbreak
of some infectious and fatal disorder.
Bonny’s Hotel, then known as old Margery’s, and standing in the fields
to the south, some distance from the sea, sprang up a little anterior to
this time and received its share of patronage; later it was converted
into a boys’ school and during recent years has been divided into
cottages, etc. The Gynn House, erected northwards near the extremity or
apex of a deep and wide fissure in the cliffs, formed another popular
haunt during the season; the landlord at that hostel created much
amusement by his oddities, and especially by his quaint method of casting
up the reckoning on a horse-block in front of the door and speeding
the “parting guest” with—“and Sir, remember the servants.” A true and
remarkable anecdote is related about the old inn; sometime during the
summer of 1833 a sudden and terrific storm burst over the western coast
of this island, many vessels were lost and the shore off Blackpool was
strewn with the battered fragments of unfortunate ships, which had either
foundered in the deep or been dashed to pieces as they lay helplessly
stranded on the outlying sandbanks. In the night as the gale raged
with its utmost fury, a Scotch sloop was beating off the coast, vainly
endeavouring to battle with the hurricane, and driven by the force of
wind and wave nearer and nearer to the precipitous cliffs. When all hope
had been abandoned and destruction seemed inevitable, some thoughtful
person placed a lighted candle in the window of the Gynn House; guided
by this faint glimmer, the vessel passed safely up the creek, and the
exhausted sailors were rescued from a dreadful death. Next morning a sad
and harrowing scene presented itself along the coast; no less than eleven
vessels were lying within a short distance of each other, with their torn
rigging and shattered spars hanging from their sides; brigs, sloops, and
schooners, the short but fearful gale had left little of them beyond
their damaged hulls. Nor were these the only victims of the storm, for
as the tide receded to its lowest the masts of two others rose above the
surface of the water; and during the next few days three large ships
drifted past the town in an apparently waterlogged condition.
About that date, 1769, several heaps of mortar and other building
materials, lying on the road which separated the front of the village
from the edge of the cliffs, showed that more were anxious to follow in
the footsteps of Whiteside and his earlier imitators.
Some idea may be formed of the class of people who visited Blackpool at
that period from the charges made at Bonny’s Hotel and the Gynn, the two
principal inns, for board and lodging; at the latter eightpence per day
satisfied the modest demands of the host, while at the former the sum
of tenpence was exacted, with a view no doubt of upholding its superior
claims to respectability. In drawing our conclusions from these facts
we must bear in mind that a shilling in those days represented much
greater value than it does at present, so that the charges may not have
been really so inadequate as they now appear. The village contained
neither shop nor store where the necessaries or luxuries of life, if such
things were ever dreamt of by the people, could be purchased, and large
quantities of provisions had to be laid in at one time. Occasionally a
sudden and unexpected influx of visitors occurred inopportunely, when
the larder was low, and as a consequence the hungry guests were forced
to wait, temporising with their appetites as best they could, until a
journey had been made to Poulton and fresh supplies procured.
Ten years later the hamlet had grown somewhat in size, and the annually
increasing numbers who flocked to its shores showed that its popularity
was steadily gaining ground. Intercourse with the world beyond their own
limited circle seems, however, to have had anything but an elevating or
civilising effect upon the inhabitants, for we find amongst them at that
time a band of professed atheists, whose blasphemous conduct called forth
no rebuke or opposition from the rest, but was quietly tolerated, if not
indeed approved. Each fortnight during the summer fairs were held on
the Sabbath to provide refreshment and amusement for the visitors, who
came in crowds to witness the magnificence of the highest spring tides.
These gatherings usually terminated in disgraceful scenes of revelry
and debauchery. Smuggling was carried on between the coast opposite the
Star-hills and the Isle of Man, but never to a great extent or for any
lengthened period. These huge mounds of sand, much more numerous than
in our day, formed excellent store-houses for the contraband goods,
generally spirits, which were packed in hampers, and so overlaid with
fish that their presence was never even suspected. The illicit cargoes
were brought across the channel in trading vessels, from which they
were landed by means of light open boats, and at once secreted in the
manner just indicated, until a suitable opportunity occurred for their
removal to one of the neighbouring towns. The success attending these
ventures induced the smugglers to construct a sloop of their own, with
the intention of prosecuting so profitable a trade on a larger scale,
but information of their proceedings having been conveyed by some one to
official quarters, a detachment of soldiers was promptly despatched to
put an end to the nefarious practices. So thoroughly did these men effect
their purpose, that, although no capture is recorded as having taken
place, the whole band was dispersed, and from that date no more offences
of this character have been known on the coast.
In 1788 the houses of Blackpool had increased to about thirty-five, and
these were arranged in an irregular line along the edge of the cliffs;
the intervals between the habitations being with few exceptions so
wide that this small number stretched out from north to south, over a
distance of quite a mile. One group of six was especially remarkable as
presenting a more respectable and modern exterior than any of the others,
most of which still retained a great deal of their original defective
appearances, as though their owners were unwilling or unable to adapt
themselves and their abodes to the improved state of things springing up
around them. The company during the busiest part of the season amounted
to about four hundred persons, and a news-room had been established for
their use in the small cottage, before mentioned, on the site of the
Lane Ends Hotel, the smith’s shop adjoining having been converted into a
coffee-room and kitchen, at which a public dinner was prepared each day
during the summer, and served at a dining-room erected across the way.
There were now four additional inns in the village, named respectively,
Bailey’s, Forshaw’s, Hull’s, and the Yorkshire House. The first of
these had sprung up on the cliffs towards the north, and was kept by an
ancestor of its present proprietor; the second was the nucleus from
which has grown the Clifton Arms Hotel, whilst the third stood on the
site of the Royal Hotel. The roads leading to the hamlet were in such an
unfinished state that after heavy falls of rain they could be travelled
only with the greatest difficulty, and often with considerable danger
both to the vehicle and its occupants; so that under these circumstances
most people deemed it more prudent and expedient to perform the journey
on horseback, some of them in the pillion fashion usual at that era. In
an earlier part of this chapter we spoke of the troubled state of the
times and the unsettled and harassed condition of the people as being
the most probable causes why Blackpool was so long neglected by many
who must have been well cognisant of its beauties in the days of the
Tyldesleys, and with equal probability may we now conjecture that the
dilapidated and frequently unsafe state of the highways had a serious
effect in preventing numbers from visiting the place at this period.
Regarding the matter from another point of view, we are led to infer
that the four hundred composing the company of 1788, were people who,
either in search of health or recreation, had willingly undergone the
discomforts of a dreary and sometimes hazardous journey in order to
make but a brief sojourn by the shores of Blackpool. Here, then, there
is evidence of the great estimation in which the place was held at that
early date by the dwellers in the inland towns, and of the rapidity with
which its good fame was increasing and extending throughout a large
section of the county. As may be naturally supposed, the large influxes
of visitors and their turn-outs during the height of the season very much
overtaxed the accommodation provided for them by the inhabitants, but
that difficulty was easily surmounted by turning the horses loose into a
field until their services were again required, whilst the surplus health
or pleasure-seekers were lodged in barns or any outbuildings sufficiently
protected from the weather. The village possessed two bowling greens of
diminutive size, one of which occupied the land at the south-west corner
of Lytham Street, whilst the other was in connection with the Yorkshire
House, afterwards the York Hotel, and since purchased by a company of
gentlemen, who razed it to the ground in order to erect more suitable
buildings on the site. There was also a theatre, if that will bear the
name which during nine months of the year existed under the more modest
title of a barn; rows of benches were placed one behind another, and
separated into a front and back division, designated respectively pit and
gallery. This house is said to have been capable of holding six pounds,
the prices of admission being one and two shillings. At that period
bathing vans were scarce, the majority of bathers making use of boxes,
which were placed for their convenience along the shore, and as the mode
in which they secured privacy and a proper separation of the sexes during
indulgence in this pastime was both ingenious and entertaining, we will
give a brief sketch of their arrangements. At a certain hour each day,
varying according to the changes of the tide, a bell was rung when the
water had risen almost to its highest. On hearing the signal, the whole
of the gentlemen, however agreeably occupied, were compelled, under a
penalty of one bottle of wine for each offence, to vacate the shore and
betake themselves to their several hotels or apartments, whilst the
ladies, after sufficient time had elapsed for any stray member of the
sterner sex to get safely and securely housed, emerged singly or in small
groups from the different doorways, and, hurrying down to the edge of the
sea, quickly threw off their loose bathing robes, and in a moment were
sporting amid the waves like a colony of nereids or mermaids. When these
had finished their revels and duly retired to their homes, the bell rang
a second time, and the males, released from _durance vile_, made their
way to the beach, and were not long in following the example of their
fair predecessors.
Mr. Hutton, in his small pamphlet descriptive of Blackpool in 1788,
says:—“The tables here are well supplied; if I say too well for the price
I may please the innkeepers, but not their guests. Shrimps are plentiful;
five or six people make it their business to catch them at low water,
and produce several gallons a day, which satisfy all but the catchers.
They excel in cooking, nor is it surprising, for forty pounds and her
maintenance is given to a cook for the season only. Though salt water
is brought in plenty to their very doors, yet this is not the case with
fresh. The place yields only one spring for family use; and the water is
carried by some half a mile, but is well worth carrying, for I thought it
the most pleasant I ever tasted.”
The prices at the inns and boarding-houses had risen as the
accommodation they offered had improved in quality and increased in
extent, so that it was no longer possible to subsist on the daily
expenditure of a few pence as in former times. In hotels of the first
class 3s. 4d. per day, exclusive of liquors, was the charge for board and
lodging; dinner and supper being charged 1s. each to the casual visitor,
and tea or breakfast 8d. In those of the second-class and some of the
lodging-houses, 2s. 6d. per day covered everything with the exception
of tea, coffee, sugar, and liquors; whilst the smaller lodging-houses,
generally crowded with visitors who were either willing or compelled to
content themselves with the more frugal fare provided, charged only 1s.
6d. per day for each guest.
A promenade, six yards wide, carpeted with grass and separated from
the road by white wooden railings, ran along the verge of the sea
bank for a distance of two hundred yards, and was ornamented at one
end with an alcove, whilst the other terminated abruptly at a rough
clayey excavation, afterwards used as a brick croft. “Here,” says the
topographer already quoted, “is a full display of beauty and of fashion.
Here the eye faithful to its trust, conveys intelligence from the heart
of one sex to that of the other; gentle tumults rise in the breast;
intercourse opens in tender language; the softer passions are called
into action; Hymen approaches, kindles his torch, and cements that union
which continues for life. Here may be seen folly flushed with money,
shoe-strings, and a phæton and four. Keen envy sparkles in the eye at the
display of a new bonnet. The heiress of eighteen trimmed in black, and a
hundred thousand pounds, plentifully squanders her looks of disdain, or
the stale _Belle_, who has outstood her market, offers her fading charms
upon easy terms.”
This parade was extended some years later by means of a bridge thrown
from its south extremity over the road leading down to the shore, and
on to the cliffs of the opposite side. Riding or walking, for those who
were not fortunate enough to possess a horse or equipage, on the sands
or promenade, and excursions into the country as far as the “Number 3
Hotel,” where many of the company amused themselves with drinking “fine
ale,” were the favourite pastimes during the day, varied, however, with
an occasional practice at the butts for bow and arrow shooting, the
diurnal bathe, and contests on the bowling greens, to which we have
already alluded; in the evening or during unfavourable weather cards
and backgammon, or the theatre, were the means with which the visitors
beguiled the wearisomeness of the quiet hours. The “Number 3 Hotel”
above-mentioned stood behind the present building bearing that name, at
the corner of the Layton and Marton roads.
Mr. Hutton relates several somewhat startling instances of the curative
properties of the sea at Blackpool; amongst them that of a man, by trade
a shoemaker and a resident of Lancaster, who having become, through some
unexplained cause, totally blind, visited this watering-place for six
weeks, during which he drank large quantities of the marine element,
daily bathing his eyes in the same, and at the end of that time had so
far recovered his sight that he could readily distinguish objects at a
distance of two miles. Another case was that of a gentleman, who, having
been seized with a paralytic attack, which deprived him of the use of one
side, was ordered by his physician to Bath, but finding, after a fair
trial, that he derived no benefit from the combined action of its climate
and waters, he determined to travel northwards and make a short sojourn
at Blackpool. Whilst there the invalid was daily carried into and out of
the sea, and even after this process had been only twice repeated he had
lost the violent pains in his joints, recovered his sleep, and in some
considerable degree the muscular power of the affected side, but of his
further progress there is no account.
The following lines, written by a visitor a few years after the incidents
we have just narrated, also show in what great estimation the climate and
sea of the village were held as remedial and invigorating agents:—
“Of all the gay places of public resort,
At Chatham, or Scarbro’, at Bath, or at Court,
There’s none like sweet Blackpool, of which I can boast,
So charming the sands, so healthful the coast;—
Rheumatics, scorbutics, and scrofulous kind,
Hysterics and vapours, disorders of mind,
By drinking and bathing you’re made quite anew,
As thousands have proved and know to be true.”
At this time Blackpool was not only without a church, but in the
whole place there was no room where the inhabitants or visitors were
accustomed to assemble together for divine worship, and it was not until
1821 that the sacred edifice of St. John was completed and opened. In
1789 a subscription was started for the purpose of erecting a church, but
was soon closed for want of support, barely one hundred pounds having
been promised. Some years later a large room at one of the hotels was
used as a meeting house on each Sabbath, the officiating ministers being
obtained alternately from Bispham and Poulton, and occasionally from
amongst the visitors themselves.
In 1799, the poorer inhabitants of Blackpool and its neighbourhood
suffered severely, in common with others, from a failure in the grain
and potato harvests. They, like most members of the working classes
at that date, relied almost entirely upon good and plentiful crops of
these important articles of diet, to furnish them with the means of
sustenance throughout the year, so that a small yield, raising the prices
exorbitantly, became a matter of serious moment to them, and in most
instances, meant little less than ruin or starvation. After the cold and
inclement approach of winter had banished the last stranger from their
midst, the sums demanded for their accustomed provisions soon swallowed
up the little these people had saved during the summer, and such
occasional trifles as could be earned on the farm lands around whenever
extra services were required. Their condition, deplorable from the first,
gradually grew worse, until, reduced to the deepest distress, they became
dependent for the bare necessaries of existence upon the charity of
those whose positions, although seriously affected by the failure, were
not placed in such great jeopardy as their own. After this precarious
and pitiable state of things had lasted some time without any signs of
amelioration, and it seemed difficult, if not impossible, to conjecture
how the remaining months were to be provided for until the returning
season brought fresh assistance to their homes, an unexpected, and, to
them, providential occurrence relieved their sufferings. A large vessel
laden with peas was wrecked upon the coast, and the cargo, washing out
of the hold, was strewn upon the beach, supplying them with abundance of
food until better days shone upon the impoverished village once more.
Reviewing the appearance of Blackpool at the opening of the nineteenth
century we find that the whole hamlet was comprised between the Gynn
to the north, and the ruins of the once aristocratic mansion of Fox
Hall to the south. The houses with the exception of Bonny’s Hotel and
a few scattered cottages, had all been erected along the sea bank, the
great bulk lying to the south of Forshaw’s Hotel, and amounting to about
thirty, whilst the space north of that spot as far as Bailey’s Hotel was
only occupied by one or two dwellings of very humble dimensions. These
with the Gynn and a few habitations standing south of it on Fumbler’s
Hill, made up the number of houses to about forty. A detailed description
of the different erections at that epoch is impossible, but we may state
generally that those of modern origin, especially the hotels, although
unpretending externally, were so arranged and provided that the comforts
of the guests were fully insured, and in every way the accommodation
they offered was immensely superior to any that could have been obtained
thirty years before. The few old buildings that still remained had for
the most part undergone considerable alterations, and been rendered more
suitable for the purposes to which they were now devoted.
In 1801 the first official census of the inhabitants of the township
of Layton-cum-Warbreck, in which Blackpool is situated, was taken, and
furnished a total of 473 persons.
At that period many people attracted by the rising reputation of the
watering-place were anxious to invest their capital in the purchase
of land by its shores, and in the erection of houses adapted for the
reception of visitors, but the proprietors of the hotels were the owners
of a large portion of the soil, and fearing that the introduction of
substantial and commodious apartments would interfere with the patronage
of their inns, refused to dispose of any part of their lands, or at least
placed such obstacles in the way of the would-be purchasers that bargains
were seldom concluded. Had it not been for the energy and foresight
displayed by one resident, Mr. H. Banks, who built several cottages and
fitted them up with every convenience and requisite for summer dwellings,
the prosperity of the village would have received a sudden check and
doubtless a serious injury, for the provision made would have fallen
far short of the requirements of an ever-increasing throng of visitors,
and thus repeated disappointments would in the end have led to disgust
and the absence of many when the following seasons rolled round. The
probability of such a disastrous result seems at length to have been
realised by the landlords themselves, who discovered that the plan to
enlarge their own business was not to drive visitors away from the place
by limiting the accommodation, but to offer them every inducement to
come, and to have a sufficiency of houses ready to receive them when
they had arrived. Under this new and more liberal impression greater
facilities were offered both to purchasers of land and builders, so that
the early error into which they had fallen was rectified before any great
amount of harm had been done.
During the summer of 1808 the Preston volunteers were on duty at
Blackpool for two weeks, and on the 4th of June celebrated the seventieth
birthday of His Majesty George III. with many demonstrations of loyalty
and rejoicing.
The small town now boasted five good class hotels, which, in their
order from north to south, were named Dickson’s, Forshaw’s, Bank’s,
Simpson’s, and the Yorkshire House. Simpson’s, formerly Hull’s, is now
the Royal Hotel; Bank’s the Land Ends Hotel, and Dickson’s was the
one already mentioned as Bailey’s Hotel. “Adjoining Forshaw’s Hotel,”
writes a gentleman who visited Blackpool about that date; “there are
two or three houses of genteel appearance, compared with the many small
cottages leading thence to the street, which is the principal entrance
from Preston. There is a promenade with an arbour at the end of it, and
beyond it nearer to Dixon’s Hotel stands a cottage used as a warm bath.
Beyond Dixon’s there is a public road where two four-wheeled vehicles can
pass each other.” At a later period both the road and cottage alluded to
had succumbed to the unchecked power of the advancing sea; and here it
will be convenient to mention other and much more serious encroachments
made by the same element in the course of years now long gone by. We
can scarcely conceive, when gazing on the indolent deep in its placid
mood, that at any time it could have been possessed with such a demon of
fury and destruction as to swallow up broad fields, acres upon acres,
of the foreland of the Fylde, and in its blind anger sweep away whole
villages, levelling the house walls and uprooting the very foundations,
so that no trace or vestige of their former existence should remain.
History, however, points to a hamlet called Waddum Thorp, which once
stood off the coast of Lytham, fenced from the sea by a broad area of
green pasture-land, now known as the Horse-bank; and in more recent years
a long range of star-hills ran southward from opposite the Royal Hotel,
protecting a highway, fields, and four or five cottages from the waves,
whilst a little further north a boat-house afterwards a shoemaker’s shop,
stood in the centre of a grassy plot, all of which have vanished, and
their sites are now covered and obliterated by the sand and pebbles of
the beach. The several roads, which had been formed at different seasons,
leading over the cliffs to Bispham, were sapped away and destroyed so
rapidly by the incursions of the tide that one more inland and circuitous
was obliged to be made. On the sands, about three miles to the north of
Blackpool, and so far distant from the shore that it is only visible when
the water has receded to its lowest ebb, stands the famous Penny-stone.
Near the spot marked by the huge boulder, tradition affirms that in days
of yore there existed a small road-side inn, celebrated far and wide for
its strong ale, which was retailed at one penny per pot, and that whilst
the thirsty traveller was refreshing himself within, and listening to the
gossip of “mine host,” his horse was tethered to an iron ring fixed in
this stone. It is stated that documents relating to the ancient hostelry
are still preserved, but as the assertion is unsupported by any evidence
of its veracity, we are prohibited from accepting it as conclusive proof
that the inn owes its reputed existence to something more substantial
than the lively imaginations of our ancestors. There is, certainly, one
thing which gives some colouring of possibility, or perhaps, out of
veneration for the antiquity of the tradition, we may advance a step and
say, reasonable probability, to the story, and that is the historic fact,
that at no very great distance from the locality there stood a village
called Singleton Thorp until 1555, when it was submerged and annihilated
by a sudden and fearful irruption of the sea. Several other boulders
of various sizes are lying about in the neighbourhood of Penny-stone,
bearing the names of Old Mother’s Head, Bear and Staff, Carlin and its
Colts, Higher and Lower Jingle, each of which is covered in a greater or
less degree with shells, corallines, anemonies, and other treasures of
the deep.
In 1811 the census of the persons residing in the township before
specified, was again taken, and amounted to 580, showing an increase of
107 in the number of inhabitants during the preceding ten years.
The year 1816 is remarkable as being the first in which public coaches
ran regularly between Preston and Blackpool. Previously the chief
communication between the village and outlying places had been by means
of pack-horses, carts, and private vehicles, with only occasional coaches.
The following description of Blackpool about the year 1816 was furnished
by one of its oldest inhabitants, and, although unavoidably entailing
some repetition of what has been mentioned before, will, we trust, be
interesting in itself, as well as useful in confirming the earlier parts
of this history, which have necessarily been compiled from previous
writings on the subject, and not from the evidence of living witnesses.
The Gynn House formed the most northerly boundary of the village, and,
passing from that hostelry in a southerly direction, the next dwelling
arrived at was Hill-farm, which still exists, and is at present used as
a laundry for the Imperial Hotel. A few gabled cottages stood on the
eminence called Fumbler’s Hill, near the site of Carleton Terrace:—
“Old Ned, and Old Nanny, at Fumbler’s hill,
Will board you and lodge you e’en just as you will.”[133]
These cottages faced the south, as indeed did all the other dwellings at
that time, with the exception of two or three of the hotels and a few
of the more recent buildings. Bailey’s, or rather Dickson’s, Hotel was
built in blocks of two and three stories, and possessed one bay window.
It must be remembered that the stories of that day were much lower than
those with which modern improvements have made us familiar. The next
hotel was Forshaw’s, similar in its construction, but unadorned with even
one bay window; between these two large inns were two or three small
thatched cottages. Continuing our survey southwards were Dobson’s Row,
consisting of several slated cottages, with a circulating library and
billiard room; and the Lane Ends Hotel, containing three bay-windows,
built, like the others, in parts of two and three stories each. In
Lane Ends Street there was a general shop and lodging house combined,
tenanted by a person named Nickson. The Royal, then commonly called the
Houndhill Hotel, comes next in order, and a little distance behind it
on the rising ground was a small thatched cottage for the reception of
visitors. South Beach contained only a few thatched cottages, and on the
site of the present Wellington Hotel stood a circular pinfold, built of
cobble stone. Considerably west of the present line of frontage, and
south of the pinfold, stood two rows of cottages almost on the edge
of the shore; the last of these habitations was washed away or pulled
down in 1827. Beyond the Yorkshire House and its bowling green was the
dilapidated remains of Fox Hall, part of which had been converted into a
small farm-cottage, in the occupation of a person named Wignall. Between
Fox Hall and the Yorkshire House, but further removed from the beach,
was a thatched cottage adjoining a stable, in which Mr. Butcher, of
Raikes Hall, kept two or three racehorses, the field now occupied by the
Manchester Hotel being used as an exercise ground for them. Chapel Street
contained a small farm-house and several cottages, in addition to Bonny’s
Hotel, which was situated in a field at the lower end of this lane. In
Church Street there were only three or four cottages, two of which,
standing at the south-west corner, were slated and used as shops. A few
other cottages, whose exact sites could not be recalled with accuracy,
were scattered here and there, but the above will furnish the reader with
a fairly correct idea of the extent and appearance of Blackpool about the
year 1816.
The National Schools, at Raikes Hill, were the first provision made for
the education of the young, and were built in 1817, chiefly through
the exertions of Mr. Gisborne, then a temporary resident. They consist
of two schools, for boys and girls respectively, with a teachers’ home
between. The accommodation has since been considerably enlarged and the
institution is now under government inspection.
The parish church of St. John, in course of erection in 1820, was built
with bricks from a croft situated on the cliffs between Dickson’s Hotel
and the promenade. This place of worship, originally an episcopal chapel
under Bispham, with a perpetual curacy attached, was consecrated to St.
John on July 6th, 1821, by Doctor Law, bishop of Chester. In 1860 a
special district was assigned by order of Council to St. John’s, which
in that manner became, under Lord Blanford’s Act, the parish church
of Blackpool. The district thus cut off from the wide parochial area
of Bispham, and constituted a distinct parish for all ecclesiastical
purposes, was included between the Spen Dyke to the south and the central
line of Talbot road to the north. The cost of the sacred edifice, which
consisted, externally, of a plain brick structure, having a low embattled
tower with pinnacles at the angles, amounted to £1,072, the whole of
which was defrayed by voluntary subscriptions, the following individuals
being the principal contributors:—
Mrs. Dickson £100
Mr. Robert Banks 100
” H. Banks 100
” John Hornby 100
A Friend 100
Mr. John Forshaw 100
” Robert Hesketh 50
” Fielding 50
” Jonathan Peel 50 10s.
” Bonny 50
The interior of the church, plain and neat, was lighted by small lamps
for evening service during the winter, and contained a font which had
once belonged to the old Roman Catholic chapel of Singleton; and, a few
years later, an organ built by Wren, of Manchester. In 1832 this building
was enlarged by drawing out the east end, into which a plain window was
inserted. The still increasing popularity of the watering place demanded
another enlargement, which took place in 1847; but it was not until 1851
that the present chancel, containing a handsome stained glass memorial
window to H. Banks, esq., who died in 1847, was added. The window
embraces representations of Christ, the four evangelists, and the infant
Jesus, with Joseph and his mother, etc., below which is the following
inscription, surmounted by a coat of arms and motto:—“In memoriam Henrii
Banks de Blackpool patris, et unius ex hujus Ædis patronis, tres sui
liberi hanc fenestram fieri fecerunt.” In 1862 it was thought desirable
that further improvements should be made, and an open domed roof of
pitch-pine was substituted for the old ceiling; the floors of the pews,
previously covered with asphalt, were boarded; new windows of ground
glass, and a fresh pulpit and reading desk were added to the church;
whilst a substantial iron railing was erected round the yard in place of
the cobble wall, which had stood since the opening of the edifice, and
in the same year the burial space was increased by including the plot
of land lying to the west of the church, and now abutting on the houses
of Abingdon Street. Four years later, in 1866, a new and larger tower,
furnished with a clock and a peal of eight bells, was completed on the
site of the original one, which had been pulled down for this purpose.
The interior of the church contains, in addition to the memorial window
already alluded to, mural tablets _in memoriam_ of Robert Banks, gent.,
died May 27th, 1838, aged 76 years,—“Ever mindful of the calls of general
duty, he was also a liberal promoter of the erection and endowment of
this church, and by will bequeathed the sum of £100, for the perpetual
support of the national school”; Edward, the son of Henry and Margaret
Banks, died August 8th, 1845, aged 35 years; the Rev. Thomas Banks, “who
was for thirty-five years incumbent of Singleton church, and an eminent
instructor of youth,” died 1842, aged 73 years.
PERPETUAL CURATES AND VICARS OF ST. JOHN’S.
------------+-------------------+-------------+-------------------
Date of | NAME. |On whose |Cause of Vacancy.
Institution.| |Presentation.|
------------+-------------------+-------------+-------------------
| | |
1821 |James Formby, B.A. |Trustees |
1826 |G. L. Foxton, B.A. |Ditto |Resignation of J.
| | | Formby
1829 |Wm. Thornber, B.A. |Ditto |Resignation of G. L.
| | | Foxton
1846 |W. T. Preedy, B.A. |Ditto |Resignation of W.
| | | Thornber
1853 |Alfred Jenour, M.A.|Ditto |Resignation of W. T.
| | | Preedy
1869 |Norman S. Jeffreys,|Ditto | Death of A. Jenour
| M.A. | |
------------+-------------------+-------------+---------------------
The present patrons of St. John’s church are the Rev. C. Hesketh, of
North Meols; the Vicar of Bispham; J. Talbot Clifton, esq., of Lytham
Hall; and the Raikes Hall Park, Gardens, and Aquarium Company.
In 1821 the census returns of the population of Layton-with-Warbreck
showed a total of 749 persons. On the 19th of July in that year the
coronation of George IV. was celebrated by the inhabitants and visitors
of Blackpool “in a manner most grateful to every benevolent heart.” A
handsome subscription, we are told by the gentleman whose words have
just been quoted and who was present on the occasion, was expended in
procuring one day’s festivity for the poor and needy, the aged and the
young. About ten in the morning, the children of the township, amounting
to one hundred and thirty-nine, assembled at the national school, erected
near the church, where they were each presented with a coronation medal.
Afterwards they paraded the beach, headed by two musicians, and sang the
national anthem at all the principal houses, followed by ringing cheers;
returning to the school-house, each child was regaled with a large bun,
and spiced ale and coppers were distributed amongst them. When these
had been dismissed to their homes, upwards of thirty old people met in
the same room, where they sat down to an ample and excellent dinner,
at the conclusion of which they each drank the king’s health in a pint
of strong ale. The same kind-hearted ladies who had superintended the
children in the procession, waited on this venerable company, and had
their generosity rewarded by witnessing the amusing spectacle of three
old women, upwards of seventy, who had probably danced at the coronation
of George III., go through a Scotch reel, which they accomplished in
excellent style.
On the 21st of March, 1825, the first stone of a small Independent
chapel, situated at the lower end of Chapel Street, and lying on the
south extremity of the village, was laid by the Rev. D. T. Carnson, and
on the 6th of the ensuing July it was opened for public worship by the
Rev. Dr. Raffles.
The summer of 1827 is remarkable as having been an exceptionally
prosperous season for Blackpool; vast numbers of carts and other vehicles
laden with their living freights arrived from Blackburn, Burnley, Colne,
Padiham, and the borders of Yorkshire, and during the month of August
so crowded was the place that many were lodged in stables and barns,
whilst others sought refuge at Poulton. The following year a fine gravel
promenade was tastefully laid out on the sea bank to a considerable
distance, occupying a large portion of the site of the old road. A
beautiful green turf walk was constructed from the beach to the church,
leading through pleasant fields, and furnished at intervals with covered
seats. The Albion Hotel was also erected at the north-west corner of Lane
Ends Street.
Mr. Whittle, in his publication descriptive, amongst other resorts, of
Blackpool in 1830, and entitled “Marina,” says:—“Blackpool is furnished
with excellent accommodation, although it is a pity but what there had
been some kind of uniformity observed, as all sea-bathing stations ought
to have their houses built upon a plan entirely unique. Four assemblies
have been known to take place in one week during the bathing season,
extending from July to October. In fact the rooms at the hotels are very
extensive. Bank’s is the most commodious. The inhabitants seem to have
no taste for ornamenting their doorways or windows with trellis work
or verandahs, or with jessamines, woodbines, or hollyhocks, similar to
those at Southport, and many of the sea-bathing situations in the south.
It is not to be wondered at that there are here frequently at the flux
of the season, from eight hundred to a thousand visitors. Blackpool has
most certainly been honoured since its commencement as a watering-place
by persons of distinction and fashion. The hotels and other houses of
reception are scattered along the beach with an aspect towards the Irish
Sea; and in the rear are the dwellings of the villagers. The cottages on
the beach have of late years considerably increased, and they serve, with
the hotels in the centre, to give the place, when viewed from the sea, a
large and imposing appearance.”
The ball and dining-room at Nickson’s Hotel, (the Clifton Arms,) was of
large dimensions, and contained a neat orchestra at one end, whilst the
following notice was suspended in a prominent position against the inner
wall:—
“The friends of Cuthbert Nickson will please to observe that the
senior person at the hotel is entitled to the president’s chair;
and the junior to the vice-president’s. Also the ladies to have
the preference of the bathing machines.”
Placards, similar in their import to this one, were to be seen in both
Dickson’s and Bank’s Hotels.
The new promenade was improved in 1830 by the addition of a wooden
hand-rail along its entire length, whilst comfortable seats were placed
opposite the hotels of Banks and Nickson. The fairs, to which we have
already alluded, continued to be held every second Sunday during the
season, but a few years later they were abolished by the action of the
more respectable portion of the residents. Letters arrived at half-past
eleven in the morning, and were despatched at noon, daily in the summer
months, but only three times a week during winter. Mr. Cook, an American,
was the originator of the post, which he commenced some time before by
having the letters carried to Kirkham three times a week during the
season. At that day the arrival of the letter-bag was made known to the
anxious public by exposing a board on which was written or painted,
“The post is arrived.” This ingenious device proclaimed, on reversing
the board, “The post is not yet arrived;” so that by a proper use of
the signal the postmaster was enabled to save himself much trouble in
answering the frequent inquiries of expectant visitors. Mr. Cook, who
is described as having been the “Beau Nash” of Blackpool, died in 1820,
and was buried at Bispham. The charges at the best hotels were 6s. per
day in private and 5s. in public, with an addition of 1s. each night for
a front, or 6d. for a back, bedroom. At Bonny’s the price was 4s. 6d.
per day; and at Nickson’s and the Yorkshire House 3s. 6d. per day at the
first table, and 2s. 6d. at the second, subject to an additional charge
for extra attendance if required.
The census returns of 1831 showed that the population of the township had
increased to 943 persons since 1821, when, the reader may be reminded,
the total amounted to 749.
In 1835, a Wesleyan chapel, calculated to hold between 250 and 300
persons, was erected and opened in Bank Hey Street. This building, having
in the course of time become inadequate for the accommodation of its
increasing congregation, was pulled down, and the corner stone of the
present edifice laid by W. Heap, esq., of Halifax, on Friday, November
1st., 1861. The chapel, which occupies a site near the old one, was
opened for service on the 4th of July, 1862, and is capable of seating
760 persons. The total expenditure for the erection and other incidental
expenses connected with it, amounted to £3,500. An organ, built by Mr. E.
Wadsworth, of Manchester, at a cost of £320, was obtained in 1872.
During 1836 great improvements were made in the appearance of the town;
shops were beautified and increased in number; many of the cottages
were rendered more ornamental, whilst others were constructed on modern
principles, and on a moderate calculation it may be estimated that two
hundred beds were added to the existing accommodation. Sir Benjamin
Heywood, bart., of Claremont, purchased an extensive plot of land, now
occupied by the Prince of Wales’s Market and Aquarium Buildings, on
which he shortly afterwards raised a handsome marine family residence,
called West Hey. Numerous and copious springs of fine fresh water were
found at a depth of fifteen yards from the surface; until which fortunate
discovery, water for drinking purposes had been collected in cisterns dug
out of the marl. Public Baths were also erected on the beach adjoining
the Lane Ends Hotel.
The following year, 1837, the Victoria Terrace and Promenade, erected
at the north-west corner of Victoria Street, were completed. This block
of buildings was formed of seven shops, above them being the Promenade,
a room thirty-two yards long, which opened through folding windows upon
a balcony six feet wide; attached to it were a news-room, library, and
billiard table. The Promenade acquired its distinctive title from being
first used on the 24th of May, 1837, when the Princess Victoria, the
present Queen, attained her legal majority; on that day the principal
inhabitants of Blackpool assembled there to celebrate the important event
with a sumptuous dinner, and from the subjoined extract, taken from an
account of the gathering in a public print, we learn the great estimation
in which the saloon was then held:—
“ ... dinner and excellent wine provided by Mr. C. Nickson, to
which fifty-two gentlemen sat down, in the splendid Promenade
Room newly erected by Doctor Cocker, who was highly extolled
for his taste in the architectural design and decorations of
the building, which is of the chaste Doric order, and for his
spirited liberality in providing the visitors of this celebrated
resort with so spacious and magnificent a saloon, where, as in
a common centre, they may meet each other and enjoy the social
pleasures of a _conversatione_ whenever they please; thus
evincing his wish to promote a more friendly intercourse amongst
the strangers collected here from all quarters of the kingdom
during the summer season—this has hitherto been a _desideratum_
at Blackpool.”
For long afterwards balls and all public meetings were held in this
assembly room, which still exists in its original condition, although
the other parts of the block, especially the shops, have recently been
improved and beautified.