Recollections of Old Liverpool

the extraordinary and mysterious disappearance of the Cross which stood at the top of the village, a little to the westward of where the present Everton road is

hen all Everton was at rest-for there were no old watchmen then to wake people up with their cries-two persons might have been seen stealing towards the Cross, in the midst of the elemental war which then raged. One of them bore a lantern, while the other wheeled before him a barrow, laden with crowbar, pickaxe, and spade. The rain descended in torrents, and the night was as dark as the deed they were about to commit could possibly require. They approached the ancient gathering place, where, in olden times, during the sweating sickness, the people from Liverpool met the farmers of the district and there p

emoval. Who did it? When? How? At length a whisper was passed from mouth to mouth-at first faintly and scarcely intelligible-until, gathering strength as it travelled, it became at length boldly asserted that the Father of Lies had taken it away in the turbulence of the elements. And so the news spread through Liverpool, in the year 1820, that the Devil had run off with the Cross at Everton. My old friend

tery. It was a square platform, and was used as a garden, until cottage and all were swept away for the new streets now to be found thereabouts. I can recollect the whole of the land from Everton Village to Brunswick Road being pasture land, and Mr. Plumpton's five houses in Everton Road, overlooking the fields, commanded high rents when first erected. Low-hill at this time was a rough, sa

ter issuing from a recess in the wall. "Gregson's Well" was a known trysting-place. There was an iron railing which enclosed the side and ends of the well, to prevent accidents. The water from the well is still flowing, I have been told. The stream runs underground, behind the houses in Brunswick-road-or, at least, it did so a few years ago. I have seen the bed of the stream that ran in the olden time down Moss-street, laid open many times w

y, he was doubtless sufficient for its wants. This Mr. Fabius was one of the first Baptists in this part of the country, and in 1700 obtained a license from Manchester, to use a room in his house as a prayer-room for that particular class of worshippers. Mr. Fabius and his sister Hanna built, after a short time, a chapel or tabernacle of wood, in their garden, and gave to the Baptists "for ever" the "piece of land adjoining the chapel-field," as a burying-place; and in t

pied by the Prescot-street Bridewell. This person used to try experiments with food, such as cooking spiders, blackbeetles, rats, cats, mice, and other things not in common use; and,

led "Nobles," and highly and proudly did they hold up their heads, and great state did many of the merchants who dwelt there keep up. The first mansion erected was on the Pilgrim Estate; the next was St. Domingo House. A brief history of these estates may not be uninteresting. In 1790 the whole of Everton hereabouts was owned by two proprietors. When Everton was all open, waste, and uncultivated land, one portion of it was enclosed by a shoemaker who called his acquisition "Cobbler's Close." This property was bought by Mr. Barton, w

When Lord Nelson received his first consignment of Marsala wines ordered for the fleet from his estate, he was asked to give the wine a name so that it might be known to the English people. Nelson said "cal

ed to it, as occasion presented, and called the whole "St. Domingo," in consequence of a rich prize taken by a privateer which

r. Sparling, who was Mayor of Liverpool in 1790, bought it. He took down the house built by Mr. Campbell and erected the handsome mansion now standing. This gentleman stipulated in his will that the house should be only occupied by a person of the name of Sparling, and that it was not to be let to any

attendant upon the introduction of numbers of soldiers into a respectable and quiet neighbourhood, and the annoyances that would have to be endured. But the prayer failed, and St. Domingo House, for a time, became barracks accordingly. Eve

Guards, against soldiers being located in the neighbourhood, but with the same want of success. A most intolerable nuisance, amongst others, entailed upon the inhabitants was the beating of what, in military parlance, is called "the Daddy Mammy." This dreadful infliction upon light sleepers and invalids consisted of half a dozen boys at military daybreak (that is, as soon as you can see a white hor

re to any place in the neighbourhood of the least importance. It is only within the last ten years that Everton can be said to have been at all populous. It was in my young days out by Breck-road and Anfield (ori

iverpool, had been invited to spend Sunday at Whitefield House, which stands at the corner of Whitefield-lane and Boundary-lane. At that time there was not a house near it for some distance. Boundary-lane was a narrow, rutted road, with a hedge and a ditch on each side, whi

med a pity not to appropriate. Quick as youth and activity prompted, he climbed upon the carriage with the notion of the Dutchman "that it was better to ride than walk," and found his condition materially benefited by being carried through the darkness of the night instead of walking. When the carriage reached the London-road my friend thought it was time to alight, as he was then near home; but to his dismay he found that, although it was very easy to get up, it was not very easy to get down in safety. On he went with the carriage until it arrived at Lime-street, and began to turn down Roe-street, which was a good mile from my friend's lodgings. What was to be done? A bold thought struck him. "Hallo, hallo! I'll get down here!" he cried. Upon this th

ined. Mr. Atkins, possessing great taste and judgment, was highly favoured and much thought of by the late Lord Derby, who consulted him on many occasions and honoured him with his patronage, benefiting the gardens as much as he could, by adding to the collection. Mr. Atkins chose this site for his gardens, believing it to be far enough out of town for the convenience of the public, and healthy enough for the due growth of his trees and plants, and the well-being of his animals. The Zoological Gardens were, under Mr. Atkin's management, very different, by all accounts, from what they are now. I have seen on fine summer days, numbers of ladies of the highest respectability taking the air in them, accompanied b

he West Derby-road, by Mr. E. Gibbon Wakefield. This is the white house that stands retired a field d

rfect stranger to Miss Turner). It is believed he had been put up to this disgraceful act of villainy by a Miss Davies, with whom he was acquainted in Paris, and who was a member of a small coterie of friends, meeting for social purposes at each other's houses. This Miss Davies afterwards became the wife of Mr. E. G. Wakefield's father. She was tried with her two stepsons for the conspiracy. The object in taking Miss Turner away was the

th Miss Turner was not consummated. Miss Turner stated that she had received the utmost politeness and attention from Mr. Wakefield, and had been treated by him with deference and respect throughout. Had it not been for Mr. Wakefield