September, 2016 Archives

Rlief-of-Mafeking

My last post has generated a very interesting and divergent theory: the photograph is in celebration of the Boer War. I have an open mind – but it is a convincing argument. If it is the Boer War, I am inclined to believe it would be in celebration of its end (in 1902) rather than marking the lifting of the Siege of Mafeking (in May 1900).

The photograph above leaves no room for error; the location is Exchange Flags and the single banner proclaims Relief of (not legible) Good Old Baden Powell – We’re Here to Stay. The wearing of straw boaters indicates it is springtime. Colonel Baden-Powell was the man tasked with the defence of the town, which was not of any great strategic importance to the course of the War. Baden-Powell, whose previous record in combat had been far from noteworthy, managed to save Mafeking from being overrun and became a national hero as a result, with the British newspapers desperate for good news. (Subsequently Baden-Powell was removed from any further combat command).

The celebration of Mafeking was of significance almost entirely for its morale-boosting. Visitors to the Philharmonic pub might have noticed the two stained glass windows by the fireside facing the main entrance. One is to Baden-Powell and the other to Commander-in-Chief Lord Roberts. Lord Roberts, the far more competent soldier, is now largely forgotten but Baden-Powell resurrected his career in founding the Boy Scout movement in 1908.

Getting back to the Scotland Place photograph; the Boer War ended in May 1902, but boaters have clearly gone out of fashion. I could speculate about the two men wearing bowler hats, for the bowler hat was the traditional wear of Loyalist orders. However, they could just be city workers on their way to Castle Street, the business quarter and the tram’s destination. Suffice to say there is more work to be done on deciphering the photo. Why don’t people label their photograph?

Scotland-place-liverpool

Before I write about today’s photograph, it is with great sadness that I heard about the death of Richard Whittington-Egan. Richard was the author of dozens of book: a world renowned expert on Jack the Ripper, fascinating writer of Liverpool’s often murky and mysterious history and one of the foremost commentators on the history of crime. His groundbreaking work about Liverpool’s history, started with Liverpool Colonnade in 1955, followed by Liverpool Roundabout (1957) and Liverpool Soundings (1969). I was fortunate to publish six books with Richard, including his fascinating account of Teresa Higginson (The Devil in Bootle), the religiously obsessed woman who claimed to have confronted the Devil and who is still being actively promoted for sainthood by a band of followers.
Richard was an unforgettable character I felt privileged to have met and spent time with. Always incisive and knowledgeable, he was incredibly generous with his time and help. He was still writing until two months ago (at the grand age of 91). Indeed, Liverpool Landfall, his last book about Liverpool, was published earlier this year. Thank you, Richard, for your friendship and inspiration.
I carefully chose today’s photograph with Richard in mind. His family background was fascinating, including Irish judges, pathologists and musicians. (A direct ancestor was James Zeugheer-Herrmann, the first conductor of the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra).
The photograph is of a demonstration or rally in Scotland Place. The setting is important, for the Morning Star was the public house of Dandy Pat (Patrick Byrne), Irish Nationalist councillor for one of the two Scotland Road wards. Byrne died in 1890 but Scotland Place continued as a focal point for the Nationalist community with the 98 Shop (also called The Irish Depot) a key centre for literature and meetings.
The photograph shows a crowd including a number wearing uniforms with the prominent banner proclaiming: ‘They sneer and jeer it’ above a Union flag. Unfortunately, I can only make out ‘fear it’ underneath. I can’t date the photograph but my thinking is that it could be in response to the sectarian disturbances of 1909, when Liverpool was compared to Belfast and resulted in the segregation of Catholics and Protestants as a long-standing feature of the city. In 1910, The Times wrote that ‘The Roman Catholics have driven the Protestants from the Scotland Road area; the Protestants have swept Netherfield Road clean of Roman Catholics. It is almost incredible in regard to a great English City, but these clearances are affected by actual violence.’
The worst day of violence was 20 June 1909 when there were violent clashes in the streets following an incidence when a proposed march from a local Catholic church ended in riots when Protestants tried to block the route. Days of trouble followed and Liverpool was dubbed the Belfast of England.’
Of course, I could be completely wrong but probably only about the date. Sectarianism is part of Liverpool’s dark history but, in these times of changing public attitudes towards immigrants, is a timely reminder of where intolerance can lead.

Thanks again to the Keasbury-Gordon Archive. Copies of their book Liverpool in 1886 are available from https://www.amazon.co.uk/Liverpool-1886-Andrew-Gill/dp/1533188947/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1473848694&sr=8-1&keywords=liverpool+in+1886

Adelphi-Hotel-Lime-Street-liverpool

It is over five years since I blogged about the rundown state of Lime Street and the urgent need to upgrade it. I suppose it is a case of be careful of what you wish for; having seen the proposed replacement development, I am hesitant to lavish any praise on what seems to be a bland and uninspiring proposal.
What is slightly reassuring is that most buildings have a limited life – maybe 50 or 60 years in many cases, especially if the economy is booming. The photograph of Lime Street was taken at the turn of the twentieth century, just before the east side of Lime Street underwent a similar radical change. The Vines pub (more widely known as The Big House) is named after its landlord, Albert Vines, who built this pub in 1869. The new Vines dates from 1907 and is one of Liverpool’s finest gin palaces. The Adelphi Hotel, on the right, was the second one on the site, replacing a Georgian conversion of two houses on the site of the former Ranelagh Gardens.The current hotel was built between 1911-14 to the design of Frank Atkinson and was regarded as the finest hotel outside of London.
Both the Vines and the Adelphi are undoubted fine additions to Lime Street and show how streets can change for the better. It does not always have to be a backward step, Developers take note!
Regarding the dating of the photograph, the early tram to Toxteth Park indicates a date of between 1899 and 1906. Liverpool introduced electric trams in 1898 (the first tram was to the Dingle) and rolled out a complete system within six years. Those were the decisive times when Liverpool Corporation had an open hand in planning the city with key personnel, such as City Engineer John Brodie, who had vision and drive and were backed by its elected officers.

Many thanks to the Keasbury-Gordon Archive. Copies of their book Liverpool in 1886 are available
from https://www.amazon.co.uk/Liverpool-1886-Andrew-Gill/dp/1533188947/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1473848694&sr=8-1&keywords=liverpool+in+1886

Manchester-Street-1900

I have had this photo in my files for some time. With no information to go by, I thought it would be just a few minutes work to locate the place in my Gore’s Directory. Some 30 minutes later, it began to make sense. There was no category for pet suppliers or anything else that came to mind, so I concentrated on the faint shop sign on the right, which I decided was H. Middlehu (there is no more on the photo.
Using my 1887 Directory was enough to pin the name down to Henry Middlehurst, seedsman of 11 Manchester Street (near to the corner where Manchester Street meets Dale Street). There, next door were William Johnson (naturalist) at number 7 and Seward Holmes at number 9. Two competing businesses, it appears, rather than one. The shop on the right (Seward Holmes’s) looks the more run-down but it was the only one mentioned in the 1911 Directory.
The photo makes you realise what an intensive trade there was in exotic birds. In the mid-nineteenth century, the trade in caged birds was for finches and other English native species almost to the point at which certain birds were almost driven to extinction here. The same fate befell parrots and other colourful birds in the twentieth century. After all, this is a snapshot of just two shops in one city in Europe. The trade must have been huge.
Sadly, the exploitation of animals continues in any number of ways. The decimation of elephant and rhino populations for nothing more than superstitious belief in the power of their tusks and horns, the decimation of the gorilla populations for bush meat and the drag-netting of our seas and oceans are just some of the depressing realities of today.
To finish on an entirely tangential note, the building next to Middlehurst’s is not shown in the photograph but it housed the solicitor William Henry Quilliam, now better-known as Abdullah Quilliam, founder of the first mosque in England on Brougham Terrace. But that is another story.