Which Liverpool-born person had the greatest effect on the world? The Beatles must be candidates, having launched a cultural revolution that still resonates fifty years on. From the nineteenth century, we have William Ewart Gladstone (1809-1898), four times Prime Minister and champion of Home Rule for Ireland. From the generation before, we have William Roscoe (1753-1831), a self-made banker and anti-slavery campaigner, whose love of the Italian Renaissance and the Medici’s city state of Florence defined the concept of the modern civic role of encouraging the growth of a cultural community in which merchants’ wealth was not an end in itself but the means to enlightenment.
What is remarkable about all of these is that their homes are still part of the city’s fabric. However, one of the most influential of all Liverpudlians is not honoured at all and all traces of his birthplace have long been obliterated.
Robert Morris (1734-1806) was born into poverty in Chorley Court, which was at the foot of Dale Street by the Queensway Tunnel entrance. At the age of 13, he left for America, helping out on his father’s tobacco farm. By the age of 18, he was a banker/shipping merchant in Philadelphia. Rapidly acquiring wealth, he put his weight behind the fight for independence from Britain, effectively bankrolling George Washington’s army. Responsible for establishing the financial and banking systems of the newly independent country, Morris was one of only two people to sign the three significant founding documents of the United States, the Declaration of Independence, the Articles of Confederation, and the U.S. Constitution.
Perhaps because of our ambivalent relationship with the USA, Liverpool failed to recognise the significance of Chorley Court and it was pulled down in the early 1930s to make way for the Blackburn Assurance building (later Stanley Leisure).
In my post of February 9th., I listed some of the fine churches that had disappeared. Many were demolished for housing or other developments but quite a number succumbed to vandalism and fire. Whether the destruction of St Catherine’s Church in Abercromby Square was vandalism or redevelopment is a matter of opinion. The whole integrity of the square was quite incredibly broken up by no less a body than the University of Liverpool in their drive for expansion. Street after street of Georgian housing was removed to allow for their vision of a modern campus and John Foster’s classical church of 1829 unfortunately stood in the way. At least until 1966, when it was reduced to a pile of rubble.
The Church of St Chrysostom might strike a chord with those familiar with Liverpool churches. The church of St John the Divine in Fairfield (its prominent steeple is a landmark as you travel along Edge Lane) was by the same, somewhat eccentric architect, W. Raffles Brown. His rather peculiar take on Gothic was regarded as muddled and inaccurate by The Ecclesiologist but W Herdman, at least, was impressed enough to include it his magnificent volume Modern Liverpool, writing that, ‘when we look back forty or fifty years, and see the enormous cost of such abortions at St Mark’s, St Mary’s, Edghe Hill, St Anne’s and others and compare the results with the neat elegance as the one before us at a cost very much less, it must be admitted that some advance has been made in the essentials of church architecture.’ A familiar story of changing tastes over a couple of generations. Built in 1853, St Chrysostom, which stood in Audley Street, Everton, was destroyed by fire in 1972.
In 1973, I spent the summer working in a warehouse in Manesty’s Lane, off Hanover Street. I was fortunate to grab a last view of the interior of the Sailors’ Home (see earlier post). It was a sad sight; abandoned and neglected, waiting for demolition. The building had been deemed a serious risk under the strict fire regulations, which insisted on a thirty minute fire safety limit between floors of a building. This was understandable after the horrendous fire at Henderson’s store in 1960 in nearby Church Street, in which eleven people lost their lives. Fire regulations were tightened up but the Sailors’ Home was an open void and any attempt to fire-proof it would have posed an intolerable financial burden for a building that no longer served its original function. At the same time, the plot was sold in anticipation of a government department relocating to Liverpool. That did not materialise but demolition had already been completed and the end result was a hole in the ground for the next thirty years. Here, for the record, are two interior photographs of what was lost.
In starting this thread about Lost Liverpool, I was concerned with those buildings that would have enhanced today’s city had they survived. The underlying criterion is that of architectural merit but that would probably not apply to Liverpool Overhead Railway, which was not a particularly beautiful structure. In the case of other inclusions, such as the Old Hutt, the historical context is of greater importance – offering clues as to pre-Industrial Revolution Liverpool. One of the other areas worth adding to the list is the building’s significance within the context of social/public health reform – and here Liverpool was the centre of many pioneering ideas.
15 Upper Frederick Street Wash-House
One hundred and fifty years after her death, Kitty Wilkinson is to be honoured with a statue in St George’s Hall. Born in Derry, in 1785, Kitty courageously took in the washing for over 85 families each week during the cholera epidemic of 1832 in an effort to stop the contagion spreading. Her persistent petitioning for better facilties led to the first public wash-house being opened in Upper Frederick Street in 1842 (and later rebuilt in 1853). The idea took hold and further wash-houses were built in Liverpool and elsewhere. The wash-house was still operating up to 1925 but was demolished shortly afterwards. Modern housing now stands on its site.
16 The last court
Probably my most controversial selection – but what a tragedy that no courts survive. The last one disappeared in late-1960s and with it a huge piece of Liverpool’s history. (The photograph is certainly one of the last to be inhabited). This was how hundreds of thousands lived for much of Liverpool’s post-1800 history. The politicians were in such haste to remove these ‘blots’ on the conscience of a modern city (albeit to create the disasters of new towns and high rise living) that they did not stop to think of the educational potential of keeping an example for future generations. Today we are building a multi-million pound Museum of Liverpool – but we could have had a museum like Ironbridge or Beamish that told a far more meaningful story (and at a fraction of the cost). I suppose hindsight is easy – but these humble buildings were as much a part of Liverpool’s history as any of the churches or commercial buildings I have posted.
The rapid expansion of Liverpool in the late 18th and early 19th century saw the wealthier merchants and professionals move eastwards from the city centre, taking possession of the new housing being built around Rodney Street. Naturally, where there were people, there were churches and in a very small area (probably little more than a square kilometre) the different denominations built their places of worship: St Andrew’s on Rodney Street, the Church for the Blind and St Philip’s on Hardman Street, St Catharine (Abercromby Square) and St Mark’s on Duke Street to name but five. Of these, only St Andrew’s survives, although in a desperate state. Two other churches are featured here, both photographed in 1875:
Myrtle Street Baptist Church
The church stood on the corner of Hope Street and Myrtle Street, on a corner site which is now a car park (facing the Philharmonic pub). A Nonconformist church, it had as its preacher Hugh Stowell Brown, who was so popular that the church had to be expanded to seat his growing congregation (Howell Brown conducted the funeral of John Hulley – see earlier post re. Liverpool Olympics). The church itself was greatly admired although James Picton was a bit sniffy about its style of architecture: ‘not up to the demands of the age in ecclesiastical structures.’ Design by WH Gee and opened in 1844. It did not see its centenary and was demolished just before the Second World War. The stone clad building to the right has recently been demolished.
Catholic Apostolic Church, Catharine Street
Many people reading this blog will have seen the shell of this church, which was finally pulled down in the mid-1990s and replaced by a block of flats. It stood on the corner of Catharine Street and Canning Street and was a building that stood out from its brick built neighbours (what I presume was the prebytery still survives and looks somewhat out of place clad in rather unsympathic stone). Picton again was critical of the church’s external dimensions but the church had a fine interior by all accounts.
My ’Lost Liverpool’ has created quite a bit of interest and, in particular, incredulity that so many fine buildings have been demolished over the last sixty years. However, Liverpool has been luckier than most cities. Newcastle, Manchester, Glasgow and Bath suffered wholesale destruction (remember T. Dan Smith and the wilful destruction of Eldon Square in Newcastle). Cities do require constant reinvention to accommodate economic and social changes and sometimes, as in the case of the Overhead Railway, the cost of preservation can seem to be far too high (not many people had a crystal ball predicting Liverpool would become a major tourist city). However, my point is that the buildings I have listed had unique qualities that would have graced any city and that by highlighting such losses, it makes it more difficult to remove further pieces of our heritage for usually short term gains. Today’s three buildings fit very much into that category.
12 Liverpool Central Station. Liverpool has Michael Heseltine to thank for saving the Lyceum at the foot of Bold Street. Sadly, he was not around to save the frontage of Central Station from being turned into one of the ugliest shopping malls you will find in any city. The magnificent interior also deserves a mention. (Manchester at least got GMex which proves that imaginative uses can be found for most buildings worth keeping).
13 West Dingle. A fine villa on the banks of the Mersey. Designed by Decimus Burton (he was the tenth child, hence his name), the architect of Kew Gardens, parts of Regents Park and also the new town of Fleetwood). Built as a house for Joseph Yates, it was allowed to fall into disrepair before being demolished in 1955.
14 The Old Hutt. Although strictly in Halewood, this was a major architectural loss. The Old Hutt was a medieval moated house (not many of them around in Merseyside) – although only the gatehouse remained intact. Archaeological studies have indicated a substantial manor house with residential buildings grouped around a great hall. At the time of the gatehouse’s destruction (photographed here in 1949 ), in 1960, only three buildings remained as well as fragments of the 14th century Great Hall . The house was part of the Ireland estate (the Lords of Hale) and, although it had been modified over the centuries, was recognised as being a site of national importance. Nonetheless, when Ford built its factory, they were not prepared to modify their plans, even though the Old Hutt was on an approach road rather than under the main building. Would such a destruction happen today with tighter listed building controls? I would hope not – but now there aren’t many medieval buildings left to protect in Liverpool.
Just a brief post to add some missing images of lost buildings. The photographs supplement the previous posts and give a better idea of why I have included these buildings in my blog. They are
Canada Dock hydraulic tower (photographed 1875)
Kent Square c1935
Goree and Overhead Railway 1947
Cotton Exchange 1907
With the start of the Winter Olympics in Vancouver this weekend, it is worth remembering Liverpool’s pivotal role in the Olympic movement. The two main protagonists were Charles Melly (an ancestor of George Melly), a wealthy philanthropist, and John Hulley. Charles Melly attended Rugby school at the same time as Thomas Hughes, author of Tom Brown’s Schooldays. Like Hughes, Hulley was a firm believer in sporting competition and in the idea of Muscular Christianity. John Hulley was born in Liverpool in 1832, attending Liverpool Collegiate and later training under Louis Huguenin, a famous French gymnast living in Liverpool.
Melly and Hulley joined forces to form Liverpool Athletic Club in 1861 and, in 1862, held the first Grand Olympic Festival on the Parade Ground at Mount Vernon. Over 10000 turned up to watch a programme including running, walking, high jump, boxing, wrestling, fencing and gymnastics – a list of events that were very similar to those at the first Modern Olympics held in Athens in 1896.
Further Olympic Festivals were held, with increasing popularity and Melly and Hulley raised the funds to open Liverpool Gymnasium on Myrtle Street (photographed above c.1870). Following its opening on November 6th 1865, the first meeting of the National Olympics Association was held there, with Hulley on the committee. The NOA defined Olympism long before the foundation of the International Olympic Committee – and its ideas were to have a profound influence on a young Pierre de Coubertin.
Hulley was buried at Smithdown Road cemetery. As a result of the work of a group of enthusiasts (including Ray Physick – author of Played in Liverpool), Hulley’s damaged gravestone bearing the motto mens sana in corpore sano (a healthy mind in a healthy body) was repaired and rededicated in June 2009. Thanks to their efforts, the huge, global impact of both Hulley and Melly can be more fully recognised.
For a more detailed account of both Melly and Hully, there are a number of helpful sites including:
www.johnhulley-olympics.co.uk or www.johnhulleymemorialfund.co.uk
Following on from yesterday, my next choice is a building that has got progressively worse each time it has been rebuilt:
8 Exchange Buildings. The smaller photograph (taken in 1860) is a view of James Wyatt’s elegant building (1803-9), in perfect sympathy with the Town Hall (for which he was partly responsible). Tastes changed and, in the 1860s, the building was replaced by one in the more flamboyant (and less sympathetic) Gothic style (top photograph, 1886). Needless to say, the modernists had their way in the 1930s – replacing it with the current vaguely neo-classical building.
9 Duke’s Dock Warehouse. Built in 1811, this was one of Liverpool’s most grievous losses according to Quentin Hughes – who gave it considerable space in his seminal book Seaport. A magnificent early six-storey warehouse, it was demolished for no benefit by an insensitive Mersey Docks and Harbour Board.
10 Cotton Exchange. Another example of trying to modernise unsympathetically. The original building (1905/6 by Matear and Simpson) was a grand Edwardian baroque statement of the importance of the cotton trade. Its replacement is unintentionally a weak nod to the post-war decline in confidence.
11 Canada Dock hydraulic tower (1858). Perhaps Jesse Hartley’s weirdest building – a medieval castle on the banks of the Mersey.
I have often tried to picture what Liverpool would be like if it had kept some of its finest buildings. Does it matter if buildings are lost? To quote William Morris:
‘It has been most truly said that these old buildings do not belong to us only: that they belonged to our forefathers and they will belong to our descendants unless we play them false. They are not in any sense our property, to do as we like with them. We are only trustees for those who come after us …’ . Clearly not a message that had any sway with several generations of politicians and planners in Liverpool.
I have by started listing my ‘worst losses’ in some sort of league table. They are:
1) The Custom House (1828-39) by John Foster the Elder. Photographed above in 1875. To me, the greatest architectural loss the city has suffered. What a magnificent compliment it would have made to the Albert Dock. Firebombed in the Blitz, it was left a shell that could have been renovated had the will been there.
2) The Sailors’ Home (1846-52) by John Cunningham. An eccentric building modelled on an Elizabethan mansion. The less said about its unnecessary demolition the better.
3) Liverpool Overhead Railway (1893). Not so much a building but a unique and exhilirating experience. Today, cities spent millions on so-called ‘landmark’ buildings that rarely deliver because they usually fail to deliver any useful benefit. Here we had an iconic ‘building’ that would have thrilled generations of tourists (and natives). Demolished 1957/58 for economic reasons.
4) St John’s Market (1820-22) by John Foster Junior. Not just the market but the whole area of tightly packed streets which fed into the main market (including the Theatre Royal and Williamson Square/the Stork Hotel and Queen Square). The kind of ubiquitous concrete malls are dead in the water. Planners now argue for keeping street patterns and a human scale. A bit too late!
5) Goree Piazzas (1787- rebuilt 1802 after fire).The first moden warehouses to be built (at the same time as George’s Dock. With its magnificent arcaded pavements it unfortunately occupied a key site in the post-War Shankland Plan mentality and made way for a road that lets us get to our destination 10 seconds faster.
6) St Michael’s Church, Pitt Street. I could add St George’s Church, St Paul’s Church and a dozen others – but this is my favourite. In an area now bereft of good architecture, it would have been an uplifting sight. Bomb damaged beyond repair.
7) Kent Square (and surrounding area). Charles Reilly wrote of the area ‘it contains some very fine houses and the finest square in town, Great George Square. It also contains that jewel in an ancient setting, Kent Square. Fragments exist but the character of this early Georgian area was destroyed in the 1930s for municipal housing. Imagine a fine cluster of Georgian housing with St Michael’s Church at the centre – a sad loss.
The next seven to follow – but please add your own ‘worst losses’, it should make interesting reading.