August 2018 – Page 2 – Forgotten Victorians

The life of Sir Joshua Walmsley – Chapter V.

August 22, 2018 Will GrayLeave a comment

CHAPTER V. This is early in the 1820’s, and a rather bizarre chapter. At this point, Josh and Adeline had two very young children, so there has to be some very strong reasons for him to be following a debtor all the way to France. The story raises almost as many questions as it gives answers. Was he owed a lot of money, was the debtor a member of the family? The reference to ” the riot and hard drinking going on of a Sunday afternoon in the lower parts of Liverpool,” has a certain irony given that Adeline’s family, the Mulleneux were distillers in the city for a number of generations, and her brother John Robinson Mulleneux was a “porter brewer”. The Sunday League was a cause Josh took up in the 1850’s to open museums to the people on Sundays – their object, they said, was “the moral and intellectual elevation of the people”.

The terms of the partnership were that Mr. Walmsley should begin by receiving one-third of the profits. With this stimulus he set to work, determined to make the firm respected through Liverpool, and to earn the wealth that would give him power and justify the confidence placed in him. Mr. Booth had been two years in business when Mr. Walmsley joined him, yet as broker he had not made much progress. Soon, however, the firm felt the influence of the strong hand that now had the principal guidance of its affairs.

During the first two years, it was part of Mr. Walmsley’s business to attend the country markets. There he met the farmers, and learned from them the condition of the agricultural districts. By this intercourse, combined with his keen observation, he gained a rare tact and foresight in harvest prospects. This, added to his singular knowledge of grain, was destined to prove invaluable to him later on, when the sliding- scale system came into operation, and when success in the trade was to depend chiefly on a happy calculation of the forthcoming harvest. These years amongst the farmers taught him other lessons besides.

“ I learned then,” he says, ” the fact that an abundant harvest was looked upon as a calamity by the growers of corn. They did not disguise that they regarded as a disaster what the people in the manufacturing towns deemed a blessing. To them agricultural plenty signified the agriculturist’s distress — low prices of wheat and high rents. Coming from a manufacturing town, where dearness of bread meant almost starvation, the antagonism between the interest of the mass of the people and that of the agriculturists impressed me strongly. It first turned my thoughts to principles which eventually ruled my whole course of life, and emphatically brought home to my heart the truths that unity of interest in a nation can alone ensure its welfare.”

Towards the close of Mr. Walmsley’s first year of partnership, an incident occurred that called forth so many traits of his character, and the circumstances of which illustrate so forcibly the manners of the day, that we give in full his account of it, only reserving the name of one of the principal actors therein.

” Several cargoes of grain for various merchants had been sold to a young dealer in Liverpool, who seemed to be doing well and enjoyed good credit. Suddenly he disappeared, a debtor to a large amount.”

” A meeting of creditors assembled, and I was asked to follow the debtor. I accepted the charge, determining if it were possible to find the man, recover the money, and reclaim the defaulter by representing to him the ruin he entailed upon his family, and persuade him to return and meet his creditors. That night I reached Congleton only to find myself too late. Taking with him his horse and gig, the defaulter had ere this reached Birmingham. To Birmingham I followed. It was difficult for a stranger to trace out one individual in a crowded city ; but I ascertained that my man had passed the night there, and leaving his horse and gig behind him, had taken the coach to London. Into that gig I stepped, using the same coachman. Time, however, had been wasted at Liverpool ; and when I reached Gerard’s Hall, Basing Lane,[was an inn, and coffee house in the City] it was only to find that the fugitive, after remaining there one night, had taken his carpet-bag and had sought the security of the London streets.”

” What was to be done by a stranger in the great city, without so much as a letter of introduction to help him ? The police was a force somewhat more numerous and more active in limb than the watchmen in Liverpool ; but it was not yet reformed by Sir Robert Peel, and there were peculiarities in its organisation. Before long it was borne in upon me that an impartial observer might be justified in the belief, that it was a body cunningly devised to protect malefactors rather than to prevent crime and pursue offenders. No help could I expect from this quarter, and how without its aid could track my offender ?”

” I ordered a number of handbills to be printed, offering a ‘handsome reward ‘ to any informant. Thereon the personal appearance of the young defaulter was elaborately portrayed. Who was to circulate these handbills, and to whom were they to be given ? I resolved to circulate them myself. “

” For three weary days I walked through the London streets from early morning till late in the evening, giving to every cabman on every stand one of my printed bills. When the drudgery of the day was over, I went to places of public amusement, not for the sake of the entertainment, but to scan the faces of those present. Late on the third night I was returning home tired, but satisfied I had done what man can do to fulfil my mission, when I overheard the following dialogue between two porters standing at the door of my inn.”

“l say, Jim, that chap from Liverpool thinks himself mighty clever, with his handbills, and his a-trudging through the mud ” said one, “ but don’t he wish he may get it ? “

” Removing the short clay pipe from his mouth, the fellow addressed puffed out a long wreath of smoke and laughed, “ Ay, ay ; does he take us for fools with his ”handsomely rewarded?” Don’t we know what that means — just nothing at all. If he’d said he’d give a “ fiver,” we’d ‘a found his individual sharp enough. Bill ? “

“ That ‘ud a bin two pun ten each,’ Bill was calculating, when I turned away deeply mortified. They were right ; my efforts had been thrown away, for I had overlooked the essential condition of success.”

“ Next morning I was up before dawn, rectifying my mistake. I obliterated the ‘handsomely rewarded” and wrote down, ‘five pounds,’ in the bills in my possession, directing new ones to be printed. Then once more I set out to distribute those myself, placing two in the hands of my unconscious counsellors. From the police I expected little; five pounds was too modest a sum to waken up their dormant faculties. ! My second tramp, with the golden promise held out of a ‘ fiver’ proved as fruitless as the first. I was contemplating returning to Liverpool a beaten man, when one day, sauntering down Cheapside, still distributing my handbills, a tap on the shoulder made me look round, and the pleasant sight of the genial face, broad-brimmed hat, and stiffly cut coat of the Quaker friend from Liverpool greeted me. ‘ Thee won’t find him here,’ he said, and he proceeded to tell how a letter from the fugitive to his wife had been intercepted. It was dated Brighton. He was on his way to America, and he asked her to join him there.”

“Forgetful of past failure, I started off in pursuit. At Brighton I found the runaway had gone to Dieppe. Days passed before another vessel sailed. I had now provided myself with a London detective, a shrewd and experienced man, for ignorant as I was of the habits and laws of France, to have followed alone would have been useless. At last we started for Dieppe, there to learn that the delinquent had gone on to Havre. Thither we followed, and that night ascertained the fugitive was still there. The net was tightening round his feet. I knew the man and the haunts he would choose. In the third restaurant we entered we saw him at dinner with some American friends. The man I had sought for days through the London streets, whom I had pursued across the sea was there, only divided from me by a thin partition. I sprang forward to seize him, but the detective’s hand held me back.”

“We are not in England ; their ways are not ours,’ he said. ‘We must go at once before the commissary of police, make our declaration, and leave the capture to them.”

” To the commissary accordingly we went. The defaulter could not be arrested for debt, but we had a hold over him for travelling under a false passport. I offered to remain under the surveillance of the police until papers were procured from England. Orders for arrest were issued, and we were politely bowed out. I had a presentiment of being baffled ; but when I asked if there was any danger of escape, the commissary laughed, shrugged his shoulders, and assured me that at ten o’clock on Monday morning, if I came to the police-office, I should find my prisoner waiting for me. There was nothing to be done but to obey.”

” The following day was Sunday. I strolled along the quay, the cliffs, and the town. It was a beautiful day, and all the inhabitants of Havre had turned out of doors. They thronged the jetty, and strolled about the shore. Whole families were out together, from the little children tumbling about to the grandfathers playing with them. The merry-go-rounds were in full swing, violins were scraped, ninepins were being knocked down, games were going on in all directions. What fresh clean caps the women wore ! The men had clean ‘ blouses,’ the very fish-women had extra long earrings and bright stockings under their short petticoats. Sunday was evidently considered here a day of gladness. Priests in long black robes were going in and out amongst the crowd chatting with their parishioners, and enjoying the surrounding brightness. I retired to a lonely cliff, overlooking the sea, painfully impressed with the scene. Yet I could not but acknowledge that I saw no trace of drunkenness here, that the amusements were all innocent. With painful distinctness I contrasted the bright spectacle with the riot and hard drinking going on of a Sunday afternoon in the lower parts of Liverpool ; there the labourer drank himself to sleep or to temporary madness, here the working man spent the day in innocent recreation with his family. That Sunday the germ was planted that later on expanded into the Sunday League.”

” Punctual to our appointment, Monday morning at ten we presented ourselves to the commissary of police, only to find my foreboding realised. The prisoner had escaped. The police, piqued at their failure, made every possible effort to retrieve it.”

” Expresses were sent out in every direction, but the fugitive slipped through the noose thrown around him. Had he seen me that Saturday night, and secreted himself in some outward-bound vessel for America? By the commissary’s order, every vessel in the port of Havre was searched, and at every search I was present At last one day an American ship was weighing anchor. Suspicion was aroused. We boarded her, and searched every nook and cranny. Suddenly I detected a space between two bales; pushing my hand down I clutched a human head, and triumphantly dragged its unfortunate owner from his place of refuge. He was not the man I sought, but a murderer for whom the police had long been on the look-out With this incident ended my search. I had failed, and my failure had been caused by some foolish formality. The insufficiency of the police, the intricacies of the system as it then existed, were forcibly brought home to me on this occasion.”

” Some time elapsed before tidings were obtained of the fugitive. It then appeared that he had seen me that Saturday night at Havre. As he was jovially dining with his friends he had caught sight of me. All the time he had been aware that he was pursued, and that I was his pursuer. During that time, where- ever he went, he declared afterwards, he carried two pistols — one to shoot me with, the other to shoot himself, rather than surrender his person. That Saturday night he had fancied himself safe, and had left his portmanteau and pistols at his inn ; while we were making our report he escaped, not returning to his hotel, but making for Dieppe, from thence to England, then on to America. The pistols and portmanteau were found by the French police, and handed over to me. I did not know then what work the weapons were intended for ; my object had been to persuade the man to come home, boldly meet his creditors, and save his reputation. I thought I had arguments strong enough to prevail ; but it was fortunate we had not met face to face, for the man who had vowed to kill me was reckless and desperate, and would assuredly have kept his word.”

The life of Sir Joshua Walmsley – Chapter IV

August 21, 2018 Will GrayLeave a comment

CHAPTER IV. This all takes place between 1816 – 1819.

The young couple took a house in Gloucester Street, at a rental of seventeen pounds per annum; the furnishing of which proved no easy matter, but by his old age there was no greater delight to Sir Joshua than the retrospect of these happy days, to tell of their many straits, and the difficulty they had to make the two ends meet, of their various vicissitudes and unvarying affection.

It was a time when the bare necessaries of life were hard to get, for the harvest of 1816 proved the worst England had known for years. The Corn Laws of 1815, prohibiting the importation of grain until homegrown wheat had reached eighty shillings per quarter, increased the distress. Misery was widespread over the country ; in Liverpool we find twenty thousand persons depending upon parish relief for support, and to feed this starving multitude the rate of one shilling and threepence levied upon the pound. As it inevitably happens, the heaviest burden fell upon small incomes, and accordingly it became imperative upon Mr. Walmsley to devise some means by which to increase his.

“My first resolve,” he says, ” was that my duty to my employers should not be interfered with, nor the time I owed them encroached upon. To solve this problem of reconciling the two conflicting interests seemed no easy matter, yet it was not long before I hit upon a plan, and I set to work at once. At the county markets, of which Warrington and Manchester were the principal, I was getting well known. My discrimination in grain had earned me a reputation. I now determined to try some modest speculations on my own account. I therefore bought small packets of rice, arrowroot, Indian corn, and disposed of them at those markets. My plan succeeded beyond my expectations. It saved us from penury. Those small speculations in grain succeeded so well in the county markets that I took a room, or rather a barn, in South John Street. There, in the early morning, I weighed out my packages and carried them to their various destinations. I was never a moment behind time at Messrs. Carter and Piers’ office, although before this regular business hour I had often done a hard morning’s work. I never slackened my energy in my employers’ interest, and in the early hours I was earning more than double the salary they allowed me. Thanks to Peter Evans’ training, on the Corn Exchange I was recognised as a first-rate judge of cereals. By plunging my hand into a sack, I could recognise by the touch alone the quality and kind of grain it contained.”

To this period belongs an incident which Sir Joshua often related :

“ One morning, very early,” he said, ” I issued out of my modest warehouse, carrying a heavy bag of rice on my back. It was destined for Mr. Harrison, a ship-biscuit baker, residing close to the dock. The percentage on it would be barely two shillings. I quietly wended my way — few passengers being in the streets as yet — when suddenly on approaching Queen’s Dock, I found myself surrounded by a crowd of porters, shaking their fists in my face, yelling that I was encroaching on their rights, that I was taking the bread out of their mouths. They threatened to throw me and my bag into the river. The crowd of furious men was swelling. The expression of their faces, their gestures, told me that the execution of their threat was imminent. No help could be looked for from the ‘ Old Charlies.’ For one moment I was startled, then I leaned my back and my bag up against a wall. I shouted at the top of my voice, bidding them be still. I told them, I too was poor, poor as the poorest of them. I was the last who would encroach upon the poor man’s rights, but I claimed that right for myself — the right to earn honestly what lay in my power. I told them what percentage this bag of rice would bring me, scarce enough to pay one of them to carry it to its destination ; and this I could not give, for it would be the price of my dinner.”

“The words appealed to the men’s sense of fair play, and their yells were turned to cheers. When I moved on they walked behind me in procession, hurrahing lustily. Mr. Harrison, attracted by the noise, came to his door to ascertain its cause. He was not a little astonished to see his expected rice-dealer coming towards him, his bag hoisted on his back, surrounded by a cheering crew of dock-porters. He could scarcely believe his eyes, but when I told him the story of that morning’s adventure, he offered there and then to take me into partnership. The days of my apprenticeship however not being ended, I could not accept his offer.”

Circumstances were brightening in the little household in Gloucester Street When, after two years, the eldest son was born, [Again this is a little hazy with the facts, Joshua Walmsley II was born in 1819, four years after the marriage, and Elizabeth Walmsley, the eldest daughter was almost two.] Mr. Mulleneux, who had been watching his son-in-law’s career, forgave the two offenders. His daughter’s husband might be poor, but he was made of the right stuff; his principles and aims were upright and manly, and his determination to carry them out indomitable.

The following is the account Sir Joshua gives of his coach-travelling days, as Messrs. Carter and Piers’ salesman :

” The speed at which coaches travelled now was very different from the slow old days of my childhood. Once I remember having left Liverpool at seven in the morning, breakfasting at Prescott, dining at Warrington, taking tea at Hallam’s Green, eating Eccles cakes at Eccles, and reaching Manchester at eight. The thirty-six miles had taken thirteen hours to perform. Now the thirty -six miles were accomplished within three hours and a half. Travelling had become safe too. Highwaymen were almost an extinct race. During the time I travelled thrice weekly between Liverpool, Warrington, and Manchester, there was but one coach robbery on record, and by a sort of poetic justice the robbed man was himself his employer’s robber. The hours of travel we often spent in playing whist. There was a Quaker whose name was well known in Liverpool, a worthy member of the Society of Friends. He often travelled down by the Warrington coach, or in the gig. He did not play whist himself, but he lent his great- coat to be spread on the players’ knees to form a temporary table. He also held the candle for them when it was too dark to distinguish hands. With unaccountable interest he watched the game, and often when I was about to play a wrong card he would jog my elbow, a hint I always followed.”

Mr. Walmsley had long been following with keen interest the progress of steam navigation. He foresaw that this marvellous propelling power would usher in a new era in commerce. Men’s minds were divided on the subject, some holding the expectation of any great change for the better resulting from it to be visionary, whilst others watched and half believed.

Mr. Egerton Smith, in the columns of The Liverpool Mercury, strenuously advocated the use of steam to tow sailing-vessels out to sea. Pointing to the ruinous delay caused to merchants by the prevalence of north-west winds off the coast, detaining whole fleets for weeks in the Mersey, he urged that by the use of steam they might be towed out and go on their way, and also that during calms the river and docks might be relieved from momentary pressure.

Gradually he went further and collected evidence to prove how steam might be applied to sea-going ships.

” The famous Dr. Lardner vigorously opposed the idea. He admitted that on the calm waters of the great American rivers it might work, but to apply it to ocean-going ships was insanity. At a lecture, to which I listened with breathless attention, the doctor laughed to scorn the notion of steam as an ocean- going motive power. He stated boldly and decisively that not only was it an impossibility, but that it would ever remain so, that no vessel ever could cross the Atlantic and carry her own coal. This he theoretically demonstrated to the satisfaction of his hearers and himself. On the 30th June, 1815, I formed a unit in a great crowd assembled on the frontage towards the river. About noon of that day arrived the first steamboat ever seen on the Mersey. I shall never forget my emotion as I watched the strange ship ploughing the waters, and sending puffs of smoke upwards in the air.”

He records his first trip in a steamer :

“ One of the first steamships seen on the Mersey was placed at the disposal of the mayor, Jonathan Hollinghead, and the municipality, in order that by means of a short trip to Beaumaris and back they might satisfy themselves of the practicability of steam as a motive power. A ticket was offered me, and I gladly availed myself of it. It was a glorious day, but just sufficient sea on to make the plunging of the vessel testify to the power of the engine. The destination was reached in safety, and the mayor and his guests landed, visited this lovely and romantic spot, then once more embarked, and the St. George steamed out of the little harbour amid the wild cheers of the inhabitants, who crowded the shore to behold the crowning wonder of the age. The afternoon sun was shining brightly, the sea had gone down. On deck a bounteous repast was laid, the host’s jovial merriment communicating itself to all his guests. Presently two Manx herring-boats were seen luffing up into the wind, their sails shivering to slacken their way, in order that the fishermen might gaze on a vessel advancing without sails. Willing to gratify them, the captain slackened speed, and the St. George steered right between the two tiny craft. The boats, as it neared them, both filled and stood on the same tack. The breeze was fair, and they easily kept way with the steamer, one to starboard, the other to port. Suddenly, one of our party seized an apple and flung it at one of the fishermen. Another and another followed, then a volley, and the mania spreading, apples, oranges, cakes were thrown in a perfect storm. It was the broadside of the ship-of-war together with the file-firing of the marines. The mayor forgot his dignity and shouted with glee. Aldermen and common-councilmen grew young again, and grave grey-haired men pelted and shouted like children. A moment the fishermen were staggered and utterly bewildered, then with a howl of vengeance, they seized upon their finny prey, and the air grew dark with herrings. They fell in showers upon the assailants, the deck was slippery with them, the table was covered with them, still on they came, thicker and faster.

‘Go ahead full steam !’ shouted the captain, and the St. George obeyed, drawing out of Herring reach, while the mayor gave a parting cheer, and hurled his hat in defiance in the direction of the Manxmen, whose responding shouts were heard as the lost hat bobbed up and down on the waves.”

Thus a naval encounter marked Mr. Walmsley’s first trip to sea.

The time of his apprenticeship now approached its close. He could choose his future path. Messrs. Carter and Piers offered him a liberal salary to remain. Mr. Harrison was ready to take him into partnership. There was a third opening for him : Mr. Booth, a gentleman he had often travelled with, who had begun business two years before, also offered to make him his partner. It had often occurred to Mr. Walmsley that a first-rate and secure business might be got together in the corn trade by buying brokers. Mr. Booth agreed to the plan, and Mr. Walmsley closed with the offer. His reputation at the different markets, his knowledge of all his future customers, had formed for him an extensive commercial acquaintance, and he felt sure of success.

The life of Sir Joshua Walmsley – Chapter III

August 20, 2018 Will GrayLeave a comment

CHAPTER III. – This is 1815. On Saturday 24th June, six days after the Battle of Waterloo Joshua Walmsley and Adeline Mulleneux got married at St. James’ church in Toxteth. He was twenty-one years old, she was nineteen. It’s not quite the romantic tale uncle Hugh tells us below. As can be seen from the marriage register, it was a conventional marriage, the banns would have been read aloud on three Sundays before the wedding ceremony, and not a rush straight to the church to find a vicar to marry them instantly. This is however a chapter that contains almost all the detail about any sort of personal life.

When Joshua Walmsley obtained the long-wished-for post, he had a stronger incentive to push his fortune than the remembrance of his father’s prognostics — the only woman he had ever loved had promised to become his wife. We can dwell but lightly on the details of this story of a love that began in childhood, and endured to the last day of a long and eventful life.

” When I was seven years old,” he says, ” I met at a dancing-school Adeline Mulleneux, aged six. She was the daughter of a wealthy wine merchant. I remember we noticed each other the first day of my arrival. Soon after I was allowed to escort her home from the dancing-school, and very proud I felt to be her protector. We played together in the old court, and we loved each other. A story is still told how a portrait of Adeline, as a baby, was shown to me. It represented her sitting in her mother’s lap, grasping three enormous cherries in her tiny fingers. “Do you like it?’ asked Mrs, Mulleneux. After gazing solemnly at it for a long time, it is related that I answered: ‘Yes, but I like herself much better.’ The family bantered little Adeline on the conquest she had made ; but we were soon separated, for the state of my father’s affairs obliged him to send his children into the country. Years elapsed, and we met again at Mr. Knowles’ school Adeline Mulleneux, who was now eighteen, came there to take drawing lessons, and as I was the principal teacher, we met. Once more we became intimate, and once more we loved each other. When I took my seat on the high stool in Mr. Carter’s office, with a salary of forty pounds [present-day value about £35,000], and a prospect of seventy [present-day value about £75,000] in four years, she had promised to become my wife when I should be in somewhat more prosperous circumstances.”

” I now took a modest lodging at Edge Hill, and resolved to live upon one shilling a day [That works out to £18,5s. per year which would have a present-day value about £16,500]. Bread and milk for breakfast, a penny roll and a basin of soup were my daily bill of fare. My duties were those that fall to apprentices in a large establishment — the post- office, petty cash, and the copying of letters. I thought the time must still be very far off when I could walk into Mr. Mulleneux’s house and ask the rich merchant to give me his daughter. But I had her promise and knew it was steadfast enough to stand any test, and for my part, above all other prizes, my mind was set to win this one.”

Here then we find the young man in possession of the long-coveted berth in a merchant’s office. The old days with their irksome duties have passed away, leaving only wholesome traces of their hard discipline. His new duties were subordinate, and could train him to be only an ordinary clerk, and in this routine he might have remained for years, but he determined to make himself of special value to his employers. His natural energy spurred him on ; and then there was, too, that secret incentive, that goal which he kept ever in view, and which, sooner than he thought, was to crown the runner with victory. Thus he tells how he set about acquiring a knowledge of grain, which was the qualification of most value in the office of Messrs. Carter and Piers : —

” Old Peter Evans was their warehouseman. He was a practical man of the old school, and liked to see a lad eager to learn, and when I questioned him about samples of grain he answered readily. Peter was willing to teach me all he knew. Twice a week before breakfast, and long before my appointed hour for work, he and I used to meet and go together to the stores and ships. The old man would take samples and show them to me. The number and variety of grain at first bewildered me. It seemed a hopeless task trying to learn to distinguish them all. But perseverance conquered in the end. Peter now began to take pride in a pupil who was mastering the mysteries and intricacies of grain. He grew ingenious in devices to puzzle me, till at last I was a match for all his resources. Then he would take a handful of every sort of grain and pulse — English, Irish, Scotch, foreign — and spreading them before me, ask the quality, weight, and condition of each ; of what county, province, and country they were, with such observations as the case required. All the while he watched me from under his shaggy eyebrows, and would give a satisfied growl when the answer proved correct.”

” Peter prided himself on possessing a knowledge of grain beyond anyone in Liverpool, and I was on the way of becoming as great an adept as himself. No one knew of these early meetings in the stores and ships, and my employers wondered at my sharpness. Customers also soon discovered my proficiency, and sometimes consulted me in preference to old Peter.”

” Scarcely had I been a year in Mr. Carter’s service when the traveller and salesman, Mr. Robinson, a very able man, gave notice, on his entering into partnership with one of the leading merchants of Liverpool. This was a serious loss, and Mr. Carter, puzzled how to fill up the vacancy, consulted his retiring salesman. Mr. Robinson pointed me out as the man best fitted to fill the post. Accordingly it was offered to me, but no mention was made of an increase of salary, although my predecessor’s had been a large one. Morally speaking, however, the rise was a great one, and I closed with the offer at once.”

The year 1815 was a memorable one for England and Liverpool. Peace with America was restored. On a brilliant spring morning in April, the British flag flying at her mainmast, the American at her mizen peak, the Mild sailed up the Mersey — the first American vessel, come on a peaceful enterprise, that had entered the port for nearly three years. Some months later came news of Waterloo and of Bonaparte’s final downfall. But the year was to be marked for the young man by an event, more important to himself personally than the vast changes which were gradually being effected.

Mr. [Hugh] Mulleneux refused to sanction his daughter’s engagement. The wealthy merchant had more ambitious views for his child than a marriage with a poor clerk with no apparent prospects ; but the lovers were not to be deterred by such considerations. They were willing to wait, but determined to be faithful to one another. According to the ordinary course of events, there could hardly be a more unrealisable romance than was theirs. Any jury of wise men would have given a unanimous verdict against the marriage. A poor clerk, with a salary of fifty pounds per annum, and a prospect of seventy pounds, whose compulsory economy amounted to extreme privation, offering himself to a lady of position and expectations, with no other plea than that she loved him. Family prejudices and family prudence had to yield to it, nevertheless, and it was not the modest lover who precipitated the crisis. They met one day and spoke to each other in presence of Mr. Mulleneux. That afternoon, Mr. Walmsley received a note bidding him attend next morning at the office of Mr. Mulleneux’s eldest son[also called Hugh]. Never did a day of more perplexing foreboding break upon the course of true love, for the note was couched in terms that showed some decision was pending.

The account of that interview and its result we give in Mr. Walmsley’s words :

” I went at the appointed hour with a beating heart : what new turn of affairs did this meeting bode? In a corner of the room Adeline sat, brightening the dingy office to me. Young Mulleneux’s expression was very stern as he looked at me, and, pointing to his sister, said :

‘ Are you prepared to marry this lady?’

The question was meant for a clincher. The thought of my poverty rushed full upon me ; but there was no sign of fear in Adeline’s face.

‘ Yes,’ I answered boldly.

” But when, sir ? ‘ asked my interlocutor derisively.

‘ At once,’ I replied quietly.

“ Perhaps I had better send for a coach ? ‘ said young Mr. Mulleneux ironically.

‘ We can walk,’ I answered undauntedly, going up to my betrothed. There was no faltering in the hand she laid upon my arm. To St. James’ Church we accordingly walked ; but none of the necessary preliminaries had been gone through, and the clergyman refused to perform the ceremony. We made an appointment to be at church the next morning at half-past ten.

Matters having reached this pass, Mr. Mulleneux made no further opposition. ‘ Let them marry,’ he said, ‘ but I will never see them again.’

At half-past ten next morning we met at the altar. The ceremony was performed. Adeline Mulleneux and I plighted our troths to each other. Then we parted ; I to return to my work, my wife to go to the house of friends, but not to her home.

” On my entering the office, Mr. Carter’s greeting showed he knew the reason of my late arrival. ‘Are you aware of the cost of living ? ‘ he asked me with a grim smile. I knew the cost well ; and, although I was supremely happy, I was not without misgivings.”

The life of Sir Joshua Walmsley Chapter II

August 19, 2018 Will GrayLeave a comment

CHAPTER II. – This chapter covers 1809 to 1814. It is also the final mention of Josh’s sister, in the sentence “His sister was a teacher in that town.”[Liverpool]. All in all, she is only mentioned in three sentences in the entire book, and never named.

Two years before, in company with Mr. Ainslabie, young Walmsley had visited Liverpool. “I found my native town much altered,” he says. ” Dale Street had been widened ; a new, and what seemed to me a very stately edifice — the Exchange — had been built, and the Athenaeum, in Church Street, replaced the old news-room in Bates’ Hotel, at the lower end of Lord Street. The pipes from the waterworks of Bootle did duty for the water-carts going from door to door, as I remembered them in my childhood. Although there were trees in Church Street, a windmill on the top of Duke Street, hedgerows and lawns beyond Rodney Street, which was then an outskirt of the town, pasture-land where Cornwallis Street is now, and though it was open country beyond Lime Street, yet Liverpool seemed to me a magnificent city. Its principal streets — Lord Street, Church Street, and Bold Street — were then un-flagged, the only footway they could boast of being composed of pebbles stuck on end. At night the town was lit by oil-lamps, few and far between, that flickered and blew out when the wind was high. It was guarded by a police composed of sixty old men, known as the ‘ old Charlies,’ so aged and feeble, that the inhabitants could only account for their filling the post by supposing that, when men were considered too decrepit for any other employment, they were elected guardians of the public safety.”

“The inhabitants of Liverpool at that time were ninety thousand, and seven thousand sailors in the port. Such was the Liverpool of that day. But even then there were vast docks — St. George’s Dock being the last in one direction and the Queen’s Dock in the other ; nor must I forget the ‘ Old Tower,’ used as a debtors’ prison. On the other side of the Mersey was Birkenhead, where the old Priory stood alone, fields stretching away all round it. That side of the river was almost terra incognito few, unless compelled to do so, caring to trust themselves in the small ferry- boats. It was war-time then, and I gazed with awe at the seventy-five guns looming black in their embrasures, mounted on the North Fort. I sometimes walked off towards Bootle, to see another smaller fort mounting some nine or ten guns. But above all I was never wearied watching the docks, the shipping, and the old guardship the Princess. The press-gang was so active it was unsafe for landsmen to be abroad after dark. Morning might find them on board the Princess, vainly endeavouring to soften the heart of the captain — the genial, hard-drinking old sailor — Sam Colquit.”

” There were constant fights going on between the sailors and the press-gang men. At times these riots were so serious that the volunteers had to be called out. Sailors homeward bound in merchantmen, to escape being caught, would go ashore on reaching the rock at the mouth of the Mersey, and make their way to Everton, or some adjacent village, for safety. Privateers sailed out daily, and occasionally returned followed by a captured prize. Often, too, the sound of guns might be heard on the river ; for the French trying to lay an embargo on the coast, merchant vessels had to sail under convoy, when some dashing frigate, taking charge, would fire into any obstinate skipper that refused to obey the pennant. This hubbub of adventure, warfare, and commerce contrasted strangely with the half-gipsy, half-sportsman life I led on Stanemoor. During that holiday, two years ago, I had sought for employment, but 1809 was a year of commercial panic. The Berlin decrees were telling on the trade of the port, with all the dire consequences Napoleon had foreseen. Prices were at famine height. While such a state of things existed, merchants had neither the desire nor the enterprise to take in new hands. My efforts to find employment had failed.”

Now, in 1811, with a meagre purse and scarcely a friend to look to, the young man was once more on his way to Liverpool. His sister was a teacher in that town, where also his father’s brother lived ; but the latter was poor and had a large family. Joshua Walmsley resolved not to seek out his relations until he had found a situation. Should mercantile occupation fail him, he would try his fortune out in the Indies : some merchants, whose names he remembered, had promised his father to find employment for him out there. Resolving these projects in his mind, he travelled on towards Liverpool and the future. ” I decided,” he says, “to go to a house in Manisty Lane, where I had lodged with Mr. Ainslabie. The people had been kind to me then, and I would seek them out now. And so when the coach drove into the place, and the narrow streets of my native town passed before me, my mind was made up, and I felt not altogether friendless in it. I gave the guard one shilling and sixpence, and had a shilling left. I was not mistaken, the good folks were poor ; but they welcomed me and listened to my story. I made a clean breast of it ; told all I had borne till I could bear it no longer, and said I had now come to seek my fortunes here. It was at once agreed that I should have a bed and my meals with them, and that I should pay them when I had found employment — time enough then. They gave me hope and courage, although there was no disguising it, these were bad times for Liverpool. The poor had no bread, and they told me peas, potatoes, and rice had been bought in large quantities by a committee of benevolent men, who sold them at reduced prices to the needy. The quartern [quarter of a pint] loaf was selling at one shilling and sixpence ; a paper was circulating, calling on the rich to use flour sparingly, to allow no pastry in their houses, and to use no bread that had not been baked twenty-four hours, also to give reduced rations of oats to their horses. Bacon that some time ago was fourpence a pound was now one shilling and twopence, and cheese had risen in proportion. These were hard times for the poor of Liverpool, but the dock trustees had raised a loan to employ as many hands as they could during the winter. The honest couple had in no way exaggerated the distress, and they were among the poor.”

” Next morning when I awoke I realised that now, indeed, life was beginning in earnest for me. Immediately after breakfast I set out on my quest The sight of the vast docks and the shipping somewhat reassured me. Surely there must be some humble berth that I could fill which might prove a stepping-stone to the future. Young, strong, active, fairly educated, resolved to give the best that was in me in exchange for a salary that would enable me to live, my hope of success seemed to me based on reasonable ground.”

” That day I went to several warehouses, knocked at the doors of many offices. At some I was dismissed with a curt refusal, at others I was asked for references. I had none to give. This first day was a complete failure, without one glimpse of encouragement. From morning to night for several days I went from office to office, from warehouse to warehouse. In the evening, wearied after the fruitless day’s tramp, I lost hope, but with the morning it revived. There must be surely some berth, some work for me in this huge commercial world, and that berth and that work I would find. They must not be lost for lack of searching.”

” At last hope began outright to wane. The East Indian scheme proved a failure ; the merchants had forgotten their promises. The same answer met me everywhere. Times were bad and I had no references. On the tenth morning I heard of a vacant situation. It was not at a merchant’s office but at a pawnbroker’s.”

“Still, it was an opening, and might serve to keep the wolf from my door. By means of it I might at least obtain the needed references. I went, determined to take what I could find. The master was a Jew, he offered me scarce enough to sustain life, in exchange for which I was to give continuous labour from early morning till a late hour of the night, including in this the cleaning of the boots and shoes of the establishment. I could not stand this last clause, and broke off negotiations instantly. Then at last I lost heart.”

“That night I faced the truth ; my boots were worn out — my money spent — I was living on charity. It had almost broken my heart, returning weary and worn out night after night to have to tell my kind hostess the sad tale of my daily failure, but she had always bidden me to cheer up. This night I saw it could go on no longer, so I determined I would see my aunt and uncle next day.”

” They lived in Toxteth Park. He was a clerk in the post-office, and she a bright hard-working woman, helping her husband to bring up their six children by keeping a night-school. She received me kindly. It was not right, she said, I should be dependent upon strangers. If, after further efforts, I failed in procuring what I had so set my heart upon, she advised me to try a night-school. Till then she invited me to remain with them.”

” The thought of opening a night-school was galling to me. Teaching was weariness and a slavery. To return to it was returning to the bondage I had escaped from. It was death to all the dreams and hopes I had nurtured for two years, and an abandonment of all chance of fulfilling my father’s prophecy. After a few more desperate and bootless efforts to find a berth in a merchant’s office I set myself to carry out my aunt’s suggestion. I took two small rooms in Toxteth Park. I made it known in every house in the neighbourhood that I had opened a night-school for adults. My training at Kirkby Stephen had stood me in good stead. Soon my two rooms were filled so that they could hold no more. My reputation as teacher spread, and day work came besides. I taught writing and arithmetic in a gentleman’s school in Rodney Street. Still, my few spare hours were spent in seeking for that longed-for clerkship, no matter how modest it might be, in a merchant’s office. I was soon in what might be said to be flourishing pecuniary circumstances. I paid off my debts to my friends in Manisty Lane and to my aunt.”

War had broken out with America, and was involving the commercial world in chaos. Men who were rich in the morning were beggars by night, and vice versa ; a victory or a defeat determining the issues. As may be imagined, it was a period of intense excitement and widespread distress. In his new career, Mr. Walmsley had made the acquaintance of Mr. Knowles, a gentleman who kept one of the larger schools in Liverpool, a man of large connections and much experience of the world. His principal teacher having left him, Mr. Knowles offered the vacant post to the young master of the night- school.

To accept the offer seemed like riveting the chain of bondage. The very precariousness of his present mode of existence appeared to Mr. Walmsley a sort of pledge that it was not to last for ever. ” The idea was intolerable to me,” he says, ” that life should go on a prolonged weary repetition of Kirkby Stephen. The pay also was smaller than my own earnings. I hesitated. ‘ I shall use all my influence to procure you mercantile employment,’ said Mr. Knowles, knowing well the bait he was offering.”

”That moment the bargain was struck between us. Lower pay than what I earned by my night-school and daily lessons; but the hope that promise held out was better than money. I accepted. Eighteen months elapsed, during which Mr. Knowles gave no sign that he remembered his promise, and accordingly I remonstrated. In answer, he offered me a partnership in the school — partnership in this school meant four or five hundred a year. Two years ago, I had entered Liverpool with a slender knapsack on my back, with a well-nigh empty purse, and high hopes. It might be thought that these hopes were more than realised in this proposal. At twenty, to receive the offer of a post worth four hundred a year. For one moment only I hesitated, and then I respectfully but firmly declined the offer. Had I accepted, I knew my fate would have been sealed. A fate that would have been bondage to me.”

The singleness of purpose that had actuated the young man throughout this period of his life was sure to have its reward. In Mr. Knowles’ school were two boys of the name of Carter. Their father was a large grain merchant in Liverpool. Mr. Walmsley had gained the boys’ affection, and was occasionally invited down on a Sunday to their father’s country house in Wavertree; for Wavertree was then broad country, miles distant from any street of the town. The spring of 1814 had come — a spring that seemed to inaugurate an era of peace and revived commerce. Bonaparte had taken leave of his Old Guard in the court of the palace of Fontainebleau, and peace was signed between France and England. In that month of May, Liverpool began to participate in the trade with India, the monopoly of which had, since the time of Queen Elizabeth, belonged to the East India Company. The Kingsmill, on the 27th May, 1814, was the first ship that ever sailed from Liverpool to India. There was hope also now that our differences with America would speedily be settled. Bright days were coming at last.

In this improved condition of affairs an opportunity presented itself for Mr. Walmsley to make his wishes known to Mr. Carter. The grain merchant wanted a clerk. The salary was forty pounds to begin with, rising ten pounds annually, and the contract was to last four years. ” I had just refused four hundred a year,” he says, ” but here was an opening to the career I had so long coveted, and though the salary was so small, I offered myself to Mr. Carter, and was accepted. The contract was signed. For four years I was bound to serve Messrs. Carter and Piers, at the above-named salary. It was a modest sum. But what cared I ? Had I not fed upon rye bread and wheelbarrow cheese for weeks together, and slept on the wild moors, with a donkey-cart for shelter on rough nights? All I thought of was, that it allowed me to plant my foot upon the first rung of the ladder, and it would be no fault of mine if I did not reach the topmost. My father’s words rang in my ears, ‘Remember, lad, an apple is as easily felled as a crab,’ and his other prophecy as well, like that of Bow bells to Whittington ; ‘Jos will be mayor of Liverpool some day.’ On the 12th June, 1814, I turned my back upon Mr. Knowles’ school and my usher life for ever, and took my place on the high stool in Mr. Carter’s office.”

The life of Sir Joshua Walmsley – Chapter I

August 18, 2018November 15, 2019 Will GrayLeave a comment

CHAPTER I. 1794 until 1811. This first chapter contains some of the few, very few, details about Josh’s family. In part it covers Josh’s “ half-gipsy, half-sportsman life led on Stanemoor” [his words] up in Cumbria. It is so fantastical that it probably owes more to C19th romantic novels rather than real life. He was, without doubt, highly successful in business leaving an estate of £140,000 when he died in 1871 [a modern equivalent of just over £ 97m.] Whether he really managed to get there from a few shillings in his pocket in 1811, or was rather creating a rags to riches story is almost irrelevant.

thecustomshouseandrevenuebuilding-s — Custom House Liverpool

Joshua Walmsley was born September 29, 1794, in Concert Street, Liverpool His father was a builder, a man of considerable ability and enterprise, whose affairs prospered during the boy’s early childhood. He had extensive premises in Berry Street, and possessed quarries of freestone in Toxteth Park, and of marble in Kilkenny. Many fine buildings were erected by him in Liverpool. Mrs. Walmsley is described as a woman of energy and ability. On one occasion, when her husband was absent for two years in Ireland, she managed his affairs so skilfully that on his return he found them in a more prosperous condition than when he left. A girl, one year the boy’s junior, completed the household.

Among the reminiscences of early days recorded in the notes Sir Joshua Walmsley has left, is the vague recollection of a large workshop filled with busts, statues, and architectural ornaments, where he and his sister used to carry on their merry games, and where on one occasion, with the help of his little playmate, he carved a monumental stone for a deceased favourite cat. These were happy days, but trouble came in the shape of family dissension and failing business; the husband and wife separated, and the children were sent to Christleton, near Chester.

Here the brother and sister attended a day-school, but their real intellectual food was supplied from another quarter. The people with whom they lodged were connected with the stage. Shakespeare’s plays were the constant study and theme of conversation in the house, and before the lad could read well, he was able to declaim long passages from the tragedies and comedies, and before he understood the meaning of the word history, Julius Caesar, Coriolanus, Henry V., and Richard III. were living heroes to him.

At the end of two or three years the children returned to Liverpool, and were sent to day-schools, but the candid record tells how young Joshua was self-willed and impetuous, chafing against discipline, and not a very diligent scholar. “ One day,” he says, “ my schoolmaster chastised me brutally. My father’s indignation on seeing the bruises was roused to such a pitch that he horsewhipped the man who had inflicted them. I never forgot this. From that day I gave up my vagrant habits, and love for my father was deepened by gratitude.” In spite of all his shortcomings, the keen-sighted old man discerned signs of character that pointed to a bright future for his son. “Jos will be Mayor of Liverpool,” he used to say in the boy’s hearing.

To be mayor of his native town was the highest dignity the Liverpool builder’s imagination could picture, and this faith in his son brightened the latter years of his life. The boy, whose ambition had been kindled by reading and learning Shakespeare’s plays, listened with a swelling heart to these predictions. “ They sank into my soul,” he says, “ and I resolved that the day should come when they would be fulfilled.”

In his own old age. Sir Joshua, alluding to his father, writes : “ I do not know any earthly gratification I would have enjoyed more than ministering to his declining years, and witnessing his joy when seeing me fulfil those predictions which his own trust in me had no slight influence in bringing about the realisation of.”

Joshua was next sent to Knowsley School, where he spent the three brightest years of his boyhood. There he formed many life-long friendships, none of which was more fruitful of happiness than that of his future brother-in-law, Mr. James Mulleneux. Of Mr. Baron, the master, he speaks with affection and respect.

12th_earl_of_derby — Edward Smith-Stanley, 12th Earl of Derby 1752 – 1834

We have some pleasant glimpses of this school life and its play hours. A favourite amusement of the boys was to make apple-pies with fruit and flour bought out of their own pocket-money. They dug ovens in the ground, heated them, and baked their pastry. No doubt dirt was an ingredient of the composition, but it mattered little. The pies were relished by the young cooks with a gusto that no feast or fare of after years could boast. Knowsley School stood on the borders of Knowsley Park. One day, while the boys were intent on their apple-pie making, a quaint but elegant old gentleman made his appearance. His carefully-brushed hair hung down in an elaborate cue. He wore silk stockings, silver buckles, and a beautifully-cut coat The grave aristocratic manner of this stately presence awed the boys, and they paused in their pie-making operations. Presently, however, their shyness wore off, for the gentleman seated himself on a large stone in their midst, and began talking to them like any ordinary mortal.

It was the Earl of Derby. The boys had often heard of him, for (be it understood we are speaking of four generations back) he was famed for his love of cock and dog fighting and other sports. [At a dinner party in 1778 held on his estate “The Oaks” in Carshalton, Lord Derby and his friends planned a sweepstake horse race, won the following year by Derby’s own horse, Bridget. The race, the Epsom Oaks, has been named after the estate since. At a celebration after Bridget’s win, a similar race for colts was proposed and Derby tossed a coin with Sir Charles Bunbury for the honour of naming the race. Derby won, and the race became known as the Derby Stakes.]

He questioned the lads about their cooking, and gave them culinary hints which, when followed, improved the flavour of their pies. After that he often came to see them, and the boys would gather round him and listen to his anecdotes and advice. Then rising to leave he would tip the lads all round. Needless to say that the old gentleman with the grand genial manners became a great favourite. Little did the son of the Liverpool builder then foresee that he would one day become acquainted with the earl’s son, would work in the House of Commons with his grandson,[who was Prime Minister three times] and in his latter years be on a friendly footing with his great-grandson, the present Earl of Derby. But the pleasant days at Knowsley were coming to an end. The terms at Mr. Baron’s school were too high for Mr. Walmsley’s reduced means. With a sad heart his son received the tidings that he must leave Knowsley School for one in Westmoreland.

Eden Hall, as the establishment was called, merits a brief description, as a type now unknown in England. From twenty to twenty-five pounds per head was the yearly sum paid by one hundred and thirty boys for board, lodging, and education. ” Breakfast at Eden Hall,” writes Sir Joshua, “consisted of a slice of black rye bread, a large proportion of bran entering into the composition. As a rule it was sour. In addition, a large boiler was placed on the table half filled with water, and into this two gallons of milk had been poured, and some handfuls of oatmeal added. Its contents were shared by the one hundred and thirty hungry lads. Sometimes oatmeal porridge replaced the contents of the boiler, and a teaspoonful of treacle was allowed as a great treat. Three times a week we had a limited amount of meat for dinner ; on other days, potatoes, black bread, and cheese. This cheese had grown so hard with age we nicknamed it ‘ wheel- barrow trundles’ ; the third meal consisted of another slice of bread and of the ‘ trundle ‘ cheese. For a certain number of hours daily we were turned into agricultural labourers, working on a large farm belonging to our master. We were a healthy set,” continues Sir Joshua, “ our constitutions hardened by outdoor life and labour. Some boys complained, some ran away, but none were ill, and only one death occurred during the six years I stayed there.”

The neighbouring orchards naturally suffered from the inroads of this healthy and hungry tribe. One instance of these exploits to show the spirit that animated the school. ” A magnificent crop of apples attracted the boys’ attention. They were in a neighbouring farmer’s orchard. The temptation was very great, so the robbery was planned and fully carried out. Being the prime mover in the affair and principal leader, I assumed the most dangerous post. Another boy and myself were still in the tree, throwing the fruit down to our accomplices, when the infuriated owner, who had been on the look-out, appeared amongst us. All fled save we two unfortunate delinquents up in the tree. The farmer leant his burly form against the trunk, but we refused, like Mrs. Bond’s ducks, to come down to be killed. Both parties held out for some time. At last terms were agreed upon between us. The farmer was to forgive the offence if I, from my retreat in the branches, pledged myself in the name of the whole school never to molest his property again.

The promise was given, and the pledge accepted. We came down, returned to our schoolmates, and in presence of all assembled, the transaction was related and ratified. A law was passed that for the future property belonging to this farmer should always be respected. This edict would have been obeyed to the letter, but next morning the farmer came to the school and made his accusation before the master, picked out the two chief culprits, and demanded our punishment. A mitigation of the sentence was offered if we gave up our accomplices ; but this we refused to do, and we were flogged. The next day the farmer’s orchard was bare of fruit, and one of his finest trees lay full length upon the ground. The masters themselves looked leniently upon the act, as one of retributive justice consequent on a breach of contract.”

The pupils of the school contested matches in football, cricketing, and other games, with the townspeople, and in the majority of cases came off victorious. At all times Westmoreland has been noted for its wrestling, and to excel in this, as in other sports, was a point of honour with the school. When one of their number was declared by his master to be their best man in muscle and address, he would march into the town and throw down his gauntlet in presence of the inhabitants. This consisted in pulling the bell in the public market-place, and waiting there till a rival champion appeared.

The sound of the bell was perfectly understood by the townsfolk. It was a challenge to any antagonist who would offer himself for the best of three falls. The match was conducted in the most friendly manner, with perfect good humour, and the beaten lad went home to town or school to practise again, and when ready to toll the market -bell once more.

In 1807, young Joshua was rapidly mastering what advantages the school afforded, when the tidings reached him that his father was dead. It had been some time since the lad had seen him; but when they had been last together a circumstance occurred which, though trifling, was destined to have an influence on his whole life, and be in a manner the key-note of all his future conduct. He writes : ” My father and I were walking down the Wavertree Road together, when we entered an orchard where the trees were laden with fruit. Taking up a stone, I threw it into a small ill-grown tree, bearing some wretched crabs, but it brought nothing down. My father stooped, picked up the stone, and threw it into another tree, the apples of which were very fine. Two or three fell at his feet. ‘My lad,’ he said to me, pointing to them, ‘ remember through life that an apple is as easily felled as a crab.’ This occurred the last day my father and I were together, but his simple words produced an impression upon me that was never forgotten.”

The father left no fortune, and thus at the respective ages of thirteen and twelve the brother and sister found themselves penniless on the world. They became teachers in the schools where they had been pupils. This exposed him to bitter mortifications, and many a lonely hour did the boy spend upon the moors brooding over his situation. One day as he mused in this melancholy mood, his father’s words flashed with sudden significance across his mind — “Remember, lad, an apple is as easily felled as a crab.” At once his resolve was made ; life seemed suddenly to have an aim ; duty, however irksome, should be fulfilled, every spare hour should be devoted to self-culture. He would bear sneers and insults with what patience he could command, keeping ever in view the higher standard of life his father’s words were intended to convey. His determination was rigidly carried out, and it was not long ere the sneers and jests had to make way for respect and trust on the part of teachers and pupils.

Soon after, Mr. Ainslabie, the head master, entrusted him with the school accounts, and also assigned to him the task of making out the bills for the boys’ parents. This extra labour, although it brought with it no remuneration, gave him a practical knowledge which was of much value to him in after life. It brought him also into constant direct intercourse with the head master, and this in its turn led to a new phase in the lad’s existence, which tended still more to develop in him powers of self-denial and self- reliance. We shall let him tell the incident that led to this new epoch in his career.

” Once past the small town of Kirkby-Stephen, the country extended for miles in heather-covered moors. Thickly tenanted with grouse, they stretched wild and desolate for a great distance towards Bowes. Mr. Ainslabie shot over these moors, and one day took me with him to carry his spare gun. We had gone a weary way, and the sportsman had not yet had one successful shot. Mr. Ainslabie at last sent me to the other side of one of the tarns to flush grouse for him. A party of gentlemen, with guns, dogs, and keepers, were strolling over that part of the moor. One of them, perceiving me, stepped forward and asked me did I not know I was trespassing, and that I had no right to walk about carrying a gun ? Quite unembarrassed, I explained my position, said I had not fired a single shot, but was simply carrying my master’s gun. My interlocutor dismissed me with a caution, and showing me the boundary line bid me not trespass again, even though I should not fire a shot.

The gentleman who thus addressed me was, strange to say, Lord Stanley, son of the kind old earl of my Knowsley school-days. However, it happened that before I reached the limit of the forbidden ground a grouse rose at my feet. The temptation was great; in an instant my finger was on the trigger. I fired, and to my delight and surprise the grouse fell. I heard a loud laugh behind me ; all my sportsman instincts were aroused. I resolved to try my luck again. Keen eyesight and unerring precision served my turn, and with my single gun I brought down three brace of grouse. Great was the astonishment of Mr. Ainslabie, who, waiting for me, had shot only one brace, when I appeared and laid the spoil at his feet ! ”

The vision of a new quarry now opened upon the master. The steady aim and cool nerve of this young fellow must be turned to account. Grouse and fish fetched good prices in the market, and a dead shot at Eden Hall would be a valuable acquisition. Forthwith young Walmsley was sent to the moors to turn his talent to account. They stretched far and wide towards the north, the sweeping shadows of the clouds alone varying the purple monotony of the heather, with here and there a black tarn full of fish that no one thought of disturbing. Thus Sir Joshua describes his life among the moors :

” My gun, ammunition, a bag wherein to bestow the game, a luncheon consisting of a slice of black bread and a piece of wheelbarrow trundle cheese, composed my equipment, and very soon the funds of Eden Hall so profited by my gun, that instead of the day being spent on the moor and the night in my bed in the dormitory, it came to pass I was sent of on excursions of a fortnight’s duration. A donkey cart was allotted to me to carry the ammunition and a considerable amount of black bread and trundle cheese. A companion, by name Francis, was also given me. This Francis was the “Smike “ of Eden Hall. He a tall athletic lad of respectable parentage, whose father, having placed him in the school, completely neglected him. After some time, from pupil he became the drudge of the establishment, performing all the repulsive work of the place It was a lucky day for poor Francis, that on which that Mr. Ainslabie found out my sporting capacities ; for to spend days and nights on the moors was release from captivity for our ‘Smike.’ His duty was to carry the gun and fishing-gear.

We dragged the tarns by night, and when a goodly cargo of grouse had been shot Francis would harness the donkey to the cart, and taking charge of game and fish, would deliver all to the head master. We got no share of the booty, but if our provisions were exhausted, Francis would receive a fresh supply of black bread and trundle cheese, with which he would rejoin me at our headquarters on the moor. It was usually by the side of a stream or by one of the tarns that we encamped. The donkey unharnessed found his own provisions during the daytime, while at night he would be tethered near. If the weather was fine we slept in the open, if wet or windy we turned the donkey-cart and slept under its friendly shelter. By sunrise we were afoot again, and after a bath in the stream, and a breakfast of black bread and cheese hard as flint, on to our hunter’s life again. Each meal consisted of the same unvarying fare washed down with water. Scrupulously, as if the master’s eye had counted every bird and fish, we sent home all the game we killed. Between each campaign I returned to the school-room, studied, taught, and had charge of the bills.”

We suspect that this Spartan life in the wild moorland did more to fit young Walmsley for the future that lay before him than could any school or college of the time. When the two lads that shared it together met in later years, one was a knight and a member of parliament, the other – the humble Smike -a prosperous magistrate.

In the spring of 1811, a misunderstanding between young Walmsley and his master’s brother brought this chapter of his career to a close. The lad longed for a wider field of action than the Eden Hall School opened the prospect of, yet he would have waited longer ere taking the decisive step had not this quarrel occurred.

“One morning, in the spring of 1811, carrying all my worldly goods — they were not a heavy load — I bade farewell to Eden Hall. I travelled by carrier as far as Kendal, then took an outside seat on the conveyance that at Warrington met the Liverpool coach. After I had paid my fare but a few shillings remained in my pocket. Yet my heart beat high with hope as I turned my face towards the scene of my future labours ; and all the way I seemed to hear my father’s words : ‘Jos will be mayor of Liverpool some day.’ “

An Anti-Corn-Law Leaguer. The Life of Sir Joshua Walmsley – The Spectator review 1880

August 16, 2018 Will GrayLeave a comment

This may seem a slightly curious place to start, but it’s as good as any to introduce Uncle Hugh’s book about his father. A great deal of the review is very fair indeed, and the Life of Sir Joshua raises almost as many questions as it provides answers. The first chapter which in part covers Josh’s “ half-gipsy, half-sportsman life led on Stanemoor” up in Cumbria is so fantastical that it probably owes more to C19th romantic novels rather than real life. He was, with no doubt, highly successful in business leaving an estate of £140,000 when he died in 1871 [a modern equivalent of just over £ 97m.] Whether he really managed to get there from a few shillings in his pocket in 1811, or was rather creating a rags to riches story is almost irrelevant. He had a curiously Zellig-like ability to be somewhere around some fairly extraordinary events throughout the C19th, and the luck or nous to invest very early on with the Stephensons. The book is a surprisingly good read, large sections of it are from Sir Josh’s notes and diaries, and it’s certainly massively better than at least one of Uncle Hugh’s other books “The Ruined Cities of Zululand”. I will be posting each chapter, in a series, to let the work speak for itself, and then try to discover more about the man himself.

AN ANTI-CORN-LAW LEAGUER.

The Life of Sir Joshua Walmsley.

By his Son, Hugh Mulleneux Walmsley,

London; Chapman and Hall. 1879.

No doubt, Mr. Walmsley has thought, and probably with truth, that the public would be impatient of personal details in the life of a man only known to them as a politician ; but then, he should have called his book, “The Political Life of Sir Joshua Walmsley.” The Paddington station-master might almost as well call a careful journal of all that happens at his station—royal entrances and exits, and the like, with which he is largely concerned—his life, as Mr. Walmsley call the book before us the life of his father. With the exception of his boyhood, we hear nothing of his private life, except a shooting episode. Two pages are thought sufficient in which to summarise the events of the four years which followed his retirement from public life. We hear nothing whatever of personal or family life, of his religious opinions, of his social relations or influence, of his tastes and pursuits at home, or of his holiday wanderings abroad. We hear nothing of his wife, after his marriage, till his death ; and nothing of children ; nor of friends, except such friends as were joined with him in public affairs. In fact, we gather that Sir Joshua’s whole soul was first in business, then in municipal work, and finally in helping to bring about those great political and fiscal reforms which were to benefit the country by putting the necessaries and comforts of life within easier reach of the people. But of Sir Joshua Walmsley himself we seem to have no picture, except as an ambitious and hard-working politician, who threw all his weight into the scale of the Liberal party.

His life—if we are to call it a life—will interest all politicians, especially Liverpool people, who remember the stirring years in the earlier part of the century, from 1826 to 1846, when municipal reform, the opening of the first railways, and the great measure of this century—the repeal of the Corn Laws—kept England—and particularly the North of England, whence emanated the Anti- Corn-Law League—in a state of excitement and action that was stimulating and spirit-stirring. In all this work Sir Joshua took a very active and useful, if not a very distinguished part, though we cannot remember him as a speaker. Bright and Cobden, indeed, or Cobden and Bright—for one was as great in lucid and logical exposition as the other was eminent for force and eloquence—threw all their fellow-workers into the shade; but Walmsley had a clear head, an iron constitution, and an invincible will, and was one of the most efficient members of the indomitable and victorious band of Anti-Corn Leaguers and Parliamentary reformers.

His early life was curious, and illustrates remarkably his tenacity of purpose. It is not perhaps altogether the most pleasing trait in his character that he seems to have been much impressed by the worldly wisdom of his father, and especially by an act and an aphorism of that father’s, and to have been largely influenced by them through life. The young Joshua had brought down a few crabs with a stone ; his father at once aimed instead, and with success, at some fine, sweet apples, and remarked to his son, “Remember, through life, my lad, that an apple is as easily felled as a crab.” On another occasion he had asserted confidently that “Jos will be Mayor of Liverpool some day,” and these words, he used to say, “rang in his ears.” His father died when his son and daughter were only thirteen and twelve; leaving them—owing to sad reverses— penniless ; they both became teachers in the schools where they had been pupils. Joshua’s engagement was at a school amongst the moors of Westmoreland, and his employer, the head master, being a good shot, united with the profession of school- master the curiously incongruous one of purveyor of game to the large towns. Joshua proved an infinitely better shot, however, than his employer, and in future led a hard but to him almost a fascinating life,—camping-out on the moors and driving home his cartload of game ; alternating this employment with that of making up his master’s books. But his ambition was not satisfied with a life so little likely to lead to anything better, and he returned to Liverpool, and sought—till he was penniless, and indebted to his kind landlady for subsistence—for a situation. One was found at last in a school, and he rose in the good graces of his employer ; but ambition was a very active force in Mr. Walmsley’s constitution, and he declined a partnership in the school, worth £400 a year, for a clerkship in a corn merchant’s office worth £40, bat which seemed to him to offer better chances of future wealth and influence. He rose rapidly, was offered a partnership in another house, and his marvellous knowledge of the grain-trade enabled him to make, lose, and remake a large fortune, and retire, according to our calculation—but there is a sad scarcity of orderly dates—at about fifty years of age. His affections seem to have been as tenacious as his purposes. He engaged himself, when a small boy at a dancing-school, to a little girl of seven, and he afterwards married her, and at the close of life attributed to her influence and. wisdom much of his varied success.

Mr. Walmsley seems to have had a strong personal friendship. for three considerable men—whose friendship in return reflects honour upon him – George Stephenson, Richard Cobden, and Joseph Hume; and it is one of the book’s merits that we hear – almost as much of Hume and Cobden as of Sir Joshua himself. Of the great engineer, with whom Sir Joshua made a business journey to Spain, we have several interesting anecdotes. We select the following, which the present writer, who had the pleasure of knowing Stephenson, recognises as very characteristic :

“The travellers’ way now lay across France, and in this part of their journey occurred the two following incidents. We crossed on foot, says Sir Joshua, “the chain bridge suspended over the Dordonne. Let us go over it again,’ said Stephenson, when we had reached the other side. Accordingly, over it again we went, the ‘old man’ walking very slowly, with head bent down, as if he were listening to and pondering over every step he took. The bridge is unsafe ; it will give way at the first heavy trial it meets with,’ he said, decisively, at last. We had better warn the authorities, your name will carry weight,’ I replied. We went to the mayor, we were- politely received, and we related the object of our visit. The mayor shrugged his shoulders with polite incredulity ; he assured us that the engineer who had built the bridge was an able man. Stephenson urged his warning, supporting the interpreter’s words with gestures and rough diagrams drawn on the spot. Still the French official shrugged his shoulders, looked incredulous, and finally bowed us out. Only a few months later Stephenson’s warning came true. A regiment of soldiers crossed the bridge without breaking step, the faulty structure gave way, and scores of men in heavy marching order were hurled down into the eddies of the rapid river below, where. many were drowned, before means of rescue could reach them. Another day we passed by a French line in process of construction ; the navvies were digging and removing the soil in wheelbarrows. Stephenson remarked that they were doing their work slowly and untidily. Their posture is all wrong,’ he cried ; jumping out of the carriage, with the natural instinct that impelled him to be always giving or receiving instruction, he took up a spade, excavated the soil, and filled a wheelbarrow, in half the time it took any one of the men to do it. Then further to illustrate that in the posture of the body lies half the secret of its power, he laid hold of a hammer and mallet, and poising his figure, he threw it to an immense distance before him ; challenging by gestures the workmen, who had now gathered round him, and were curiously watching him, to do the same, but they one and all failed to equal the feat. The interpreter explained the lesson to the navvies, and told them who their teacher was. Ste-vim-son !’ the name went from mouth to mouth. The intelligent, appreciative Frenchmen gathered close around him, and broke into vociferous cheers, such as I thought could only proceed from British lungs, until the echoes rang around us on every side.”

And while we are speaking of Sir Joshua’s friends, we must quote an anecdote, which, his son tells us, he was fond of repeating, illustrative of Mr. Hume’s popularity amongst the “working-classes :”—

” A strike had been resolved upon by the London cabmen. The night was wet and miserable. On leaving the scene of our labours, we saw through the rain a reassuring assemblage of four-wheelers and hansoms. No sooner, however, did we hail the cabs, than with a loud halloo the drivers impelled them in various directions. Hume and I were walking arm-in-arm. ‘We’ll give old Joe a lift,’ shouted three or four retreating cabbies drawing up their horses. They actually fought for the privilege of giving him a lift ; and since I was walking with him, I was allowed to get in, and so shared the advantage of his popularity.”

Before leaving Sir Joshua’s friends and acquaintance, we must record his spirited account and sagacious opinions of a party of patriots with whom it was his chance to spend an evening, and of whom, at that time, all England was speaking. The quotation is part of a narrative in Sir Joshua’s own words :—

“One morning, in February, 1854,” he narrates, “a gentleman was introduced into my study. On looking at his card, I found it was Mr. Saunders, the United States Consul. We had never met before. He intimated to me that his object in calling was to invite me to meet Mr. Buchanan, the American Minister, and some political friends. It was against my rule to accept invitations of a political or party character. I asked Mr. Saunders who the guests would be ; the list was as follows :—Mazzini, Garibaldi, Louis Kossuth, Walsh, Pulski, Ledru Rollin, Count Woxcell, and Orsini. I could not resist this catalogue of fiery names and accepted the invitation. At 25 Weymouth Street, Portland Square, the singular gathering took place. Mazzini sat at our host’s right hand. His appearance was very impressive and characteristic. His eyes, burning in his wasted countenance, his high, narrow forehead, spoke of a mind lofty and pure, but wanting in variety and flexibility. His whole appearance indicated a man of few ideas, but these ideas sublime and true. It was a never-to-be-forgotten sight, this group of patriots assembled together,—the simple, manly, honest face of Garibaldi, the attenuated features of Woxcell, the grave and handsome countenance of Kossuth, the beautiful young head of Orsini. The dinner was genuinely American in the abundance and costliness of its service. The wit, the humour, the vivacity of the conversation, were delightful, but so long as servants were present I knew the talk was superficial. When the cloth was removed and the servants had left the room, the doors were closed. I noticed they were double doors. Then a toast was given; it was to ‘Humanity.’ Mazzini was the first to speak. His austere eloquence, lit with flashes of enthusiasm, profoundly impressed me. It was like listening to the utterances of the old Hebrew prophets. He sketched the dark part of humanity, trodden down by kings and priests. Then came the struggles of the people for liberty. He saw streaks of the dawn in the present. In the future lay the glorious day of a regenerated humanity, free, self-respecting, -on whose banner the word Duty’ was inscribed. It was from his beloved Italy that he looked for this new revolution to come. Each one of the party, after him, rose and addressed the gathering. And the theme of every speaker was his country’s sufferings in the past and present, and his aspirations for it in the future. All spoke ‘freely, as men who had cast off restraint, and who were convinced of the accomplishment in the future of their object. In discussing their country’s wrongs, they frankly discussed the means by which they proposed to redeem and deliver her. From these means I should over shrink. But at such a moment, the reasoning power of the Listeners was carried away on this torrent of fiery zeal, impassioned patriotism, and persuasive eloquence. As patriot after patriot spoke, each seemed to press on to a higher and ever higher view of the subject in hand. After Mazzini, Kossuth addressed us in a speech full of power; but his eloquence was more flowery than Mazzini’s, and left less impression upon me. He was too much of a poet to guide up the dangerous height to which he had climbed. His friend Pulski was more of a man of business, and ever proved himself a sound patriot. Of all that night’s discourses, Garibaldi’s simple and straight- forward words moved me most. Ho seemed to take the wisest view of the coarse to be pursued, and to bring to the service of the subject the greatest amount of practical knowledge. His address, more unpretentious, was, to my mind, more convincing than the others. Orsini looked like a man inspired by, and resolved upon, his purpose. He spoke with much seeming sorrow of the necessity for deeds which be himself was prepared to accomplish. I shall never forget how young and handsome he looked that night, and I am persuaded that the wisest course Napoleon could have pursued would have been to have pardoned him. Of Ledru. Rollin I did not conceive a high idea. The impression he made upon me was that of a disappointed politician, rather than that of a patriot. Count Woxcell represented Poland. An exile for many years, he was so poor as often to lack the necessaries of life, yet he never complained. That night he had .evidently risen from a bed of sickness. His fine features contrasted with the exhaustion and feebleness of his frame ; death was stamped on his countenance; but his mind was bright with hopes of his country’s redemption. As he spoke of Poland’s sufferings, tears flowed down his pale cheeks.”

Those who know what were the views of Mr. Hume and Mr. Cobden know pretty nearly Sir Joshua Walmsley’s. He looked, evidently, in his Parliamentary career, as Member for Leicester, to their guidance, but was not wanting in independence and originality. He did not for instance, heartily concur in Cobden’s enthusiasm for non-intervention, though it is curious to note that he bought an interest in the Daily News, at Mr. Cobden’s suggestion, for the purpose of pressing this theory, for which, Mr. Cobden thought, the country was getting ripe. What would he say now? Mr. Hume was eager for Parliamentary and Mr. Cobden for financial reform, and Sir Joshua seems to have shared the eagerness of both, but in a more moderate degree ; his readiness and energy were remarkable, and as in the struggle to repeal the Corn Laws, so in the subsequent efforts for financial and representative reform, Hume and Cobden, and the many other noble workers of that party, were vigorously and effectively backed by Walmsley’s business powers and knowledge, and by his wonderful faculty for success. But perhaps the great work of his life was the fierce and successful, but most laborious, attack he made on the dens of vice in his native town of Liverpool – of which he was afterwards mayor – accompanied by his reorganisation of the police, and succeeded by his earnest and successful efforts in favour of the education of the poor, which, in his view, alone went to the root of the matter, and on which he relied for the future freedom of his town from that army of beggars, paupers, and evil-doers which ignorance alone can generate and nourish, and education alone can ultimately stamp out.

The above text was found on p.17, 10th January 1880 in “The Spectator”

Alderman Richard Sheil (1790 – 1871)

August 16, 2018 Will Gray1 Comment

On the 26th February, 1871, Alderman Richard Sheil passed away at the ripe age of eighty years. For fifty years he had been a prominent figure in every Catholic movement. Born in Dublin, in 1790, he was a member of the same family which gave to Ireland the brilliant writer and M.P., Richard Lalor Sheil. After spending many years of his life in Hayti, Mr. Sheil came to Liverpool, and carried on large business with great success. No Catholic movement was complete without his presence, whilst his interest in public matters was so intense that the Tory Corporation paid him the compliment of naming one of its public parks with his surname. One of the first three Catholic councillors, the first Catholic alderman, he had the unique honour of being the first to re-enter the Council and again become the only Catholic alderman. Dark complexioned, he looked like a Spanish monk, and his merchant friends used to say of him that he had missed his vocation. His warm Irish temperament and mellifluous brogue made him a host of friends in all parties which he with kindly wisdom turned to account for the benefit of his co-religionists. Indeed, had he so desired even a Conservative majority would have elected him to the honourable position of the Chief Magistracy. To do honour to his memory, and as an acknowledgement of his signal services to the Church, the Vicar-General sang the Requiem Mass in the absence through illness of the Bishop. His mortal remains were interred in Anfield Cemetery.

This is from the Catholic History Of Liverpool, by Thomas Burke; Liverpool : C. Tinling & Co., Ltd., Printers, 53, Victoria Street. 1910

Bicknell v. Bicknell Divorce November 1908

August 15, 2018 Will GrayLeave a comment

I think it’s time to re-post this because it’s very entertaining, but the starting point for this might well be their wedding in 1897

The Times October 31, 1908 [Day 1]

(Before Mr. JUSTICE BARGRAVE DEAN and a Special Jury.)

BICKNELL V. BICKNELL (CARIELLO Cited).

Divorce-Cross Charges

This was the petition of Harriet Frances Bicknell, née Bagshawe, for the dissolution of her marriage with Herman Kentigern Bicknell, on the ground of his cruelty and adultery. The respondent, by his answer, denied these allegations, and further pleaded that the petitioner had been guilty of such misconduct as had conduced to the said alleged adultery (if any) by a persistent course of mental cruelty and gross insults towards him, practically driving him out of the house, and by her ungovernable temper; that the petitioner connived at and condoned the acts of adultery (if any); and that the petitioner had herself been guilty of adultery with the Cav. Antonino Cariello, the party cited. The petitioner, by her reply,denied and joined issue on all the allegations contained in the respondent’s answer, and the party cited, by his answer, denied that he had committed adultery with the petitioner.

Mr. Barnard, K.C., and MIr. Lailey were for the petitioner; Mr. Marshall-Hall, K.C., Mr. Haldenstein, and Mr. J. W. Orr for the respondent; and Mr. W. B. Campbell for the party cited.

Mr. Barnard, said that the petitioner was the daughter of a well-known member of his own Profession, his Honour Judge Bagshawe. She was married to the respondent on October 19, 1897, at the Church of Our Lady of Victories, High-street, Kensington, the parties being members of the Roman Catholic Church. They lived together first at Knapp, near Bideford, and afterwards at Sorrento, some two hours away from Naples. There were two children of the marriage, one aged nine and the other six years of age. Unfortunately for the petitioner, her husband was a man of no occupation, and at times he drank very heavily, and what became another matter of unhappiness between them was that while at Sorrento he acquired the habit of taking morphia. It was only fair to state, however, that when he was not under the influence of drink or drugs he treated her kindly and well, and at such times she wrote affectionate letters about him to her friends. The acts of violence of which she had to complain were about as cruel as any man could be guilty of towards a woman whom he had promised to love. Both children were baptized and brought up in the Roman Catholic faith. The mother was a good Catholic, and the husband, when under the influence of drugs, threatened to have the children brought up as Protestants, and perhaps it was now going to be suggested that he had changed his religion and wished to bring up his children in another faith.

In 1898, while living at Knapp, he was guilty of an assault upon her, and he used bad language, and while under the influence of drink had said:-” Smile, you devil, or I will turn you and your filthy spawn out of the house.” In January,1899, he threatened that he would not allow her to see any of her relatives, and in February, when her child was only a month old, he insisted on her leaving her baby and on her accompanying him to the United States. They went to Sorrento in March, 1904, and remained there until April, 1907, and in June of the former year they took a villa in that town. In July, 1905, the petitioner thought that she saw from a window her husband kiss a lady in the garden. She called out, and he came into the house in a very angry temper, called her a d-d liar, struck her, and gave her a black eye, which was afterwards seen by Signor Cariello. In 1900 her husband was taking a great deal of morphia as a letter of his dated September 28 of that year would show. On March 3, 1907, when under the influence of the drug, he called her a prostitute and a liar and struck her, and afterwards acknowledged that fact in the presence of her governess. She was, therefore, living a most unhappy life when her husband was under the influence of drugs.

At this time he was in a state of great nervousness, and though they occupied separate bed -rooms, yet when he was under the influence of morphia, as he was frightened of being alone, she used to sleep on a mattress in his room. That was important, as the respondent relied on this for his plea of condonation. which was no condonation at all.

On April 15, 1907, the petitioner found in a blotting-pad a hotel bill made out to the name of “Hermano Harmsleigh “ with certain words upon it. She intended to ask her husband what it meant, but owing to his state of health, she did not until April 25. That was an important date in the case. On that day the respondent suddenly decided to leave Sorrento, and, while helping him to pack, the petitioner suggested that he should not travel with the nurse, who was leaving on the same date. He insisted, and there was an end of that matter, so far as she was concerned. She, however, asked him if he had ever passed as ” Hermano Harmsleigh.” He immediately asked her if it were Antonino (Cariello) who had told her. Antonino was the respondent’s great friend. She said No, she had seen the name on a blotting-pad. He then called her a d-d [damned] spy and said that he had made the acquaintance of a girl in Naples, that lie had given her mother 200f. for her and had promised her marriage, and that he believed that the father was coming that day to the villa about the matter. That was why he was leaving, and that was all she learnt of the matter. He left, and she kissed him at parting. She remained at Sorrento until July, when she and her children returned to England, and with them on the 13th of that month called at Morle’s Hotel upon her husband. He took in the children, but refused to allow her to enter. She returned with a friend, Lady Macfarlane, but he refused to allow her to return to him and to her children.

It appeared, continued the learned counsel. that just before Christmas, 1906, on an occasion when the respondent was in Naples, he had made the acquaintance of a girl named Anita, represented to her that he was a bachelor and wished to be engaged to her, and gave her mother a sum of money. He had visited the girl and taken her to various hotels. Witnesses had been examined on commission, and the respondent’s counsel on that commission had admitted the adultery. Condonation had been pleaded, but the first that the petitioner. had heard of her husband’s misconduct was on April 25, 1907, and she had not since cohabited with him. Connivance and conduct conducing were also pleaded, and he (the learned counsel) was waiting to hear what possible evidence could be adduced to support such pleas. ThereI was also a charge made against the petitioner and Signor Cariello. and, after he had proved his case against the respondent, it would be for his learned friend to establish his case – if he had any evidence to substantiate it.

The petitioner, Mrs. Bicknell, examined by Mr. Barnard, said her married life had been most unhappy, as her husband was very cruel to her. He was addicted to both drink and drugs ever since the date of the marriage. When under the influence of either he was violent, and called her such names as ” d–d [damned] liar, devil. and prostitute.” A week after the marriage he tore up the Marriage certificate, and told her, ” Now I can, repudiate tho marriage at any time.” In the autumn of 1898 he threw her down and pulled her by the hair, she being enciente at the time. He was very angry because the birth of her first child was inserted in the Tablet, the leading Roman Catholic newspaper, and threatened that she should not see her father, his Honour Judge Bagshawe, or her family again. On another occasion, when she was writing to a friend, he struck her on the back of the hand with a ruler. He forced her mother to write him an apology for inserting the birth in the Tablet, and then threatened to publish it.

Mr Justice Bargrave Deane. – I do not follow. What was the apology for ?

Mr. Barnard, – Mrs. Bagshawe had inserted the notice and the respondent had chosen to take offence.

Examination continued.- In March. 1904 they went to Sorrento. In July she saw from a window her husband kissing a lady in the garden. She called to him to come in. and they both did so. He was very angry, and the next morning struck her and gave her a black eye, calling her a “ d–d [damned] liar.” During 1906 and 1907 he said the children should be brought up as Protestants, and laughed at her for having believed him when he told her they should be brought up as Roman Catholics. He also told her he had changed his religion. On September 28, 1906, he wrote:-” That dreadful morphia has affected mv heart and caused a fainting fit. I had one after lunch: it was most tiresome. as the Duke and his manservant had to bring me home, and the Duchess had an awful fright ! I never thought the giving up of morphia would entail such disastrous consequences. Old Dr. Garquito wanted me to go into a home for inebriates, and is vastly struck by my ability to give morphia up suddenly. Fancy me in a home. It sounds comical, doesn’t it? You may be sure I shall never be so silly as to take drugs again.” During 1907 the respondent was again taking morphia, and she had sometimes to sleep on the floor in his room to “watch” him. In March, 1907, the respondent was in a very bad state, called her terrible names and struck her with the back of his hand, his rings injuring her lip. Her child saw the marks and asked the cause, and she endeavoured to conceal the truth, whereupon the respondent said, ” You d–d [damned] liar, why don’t you speak the truth and say I did it.” The governess was also present.

In April, 1907, the respondent having invited her to take part in a bazaar at Sorrento, at the last moment forbade her to attend it. About April 15 she found an hotel bill in her husband’s blotter, made out in the name of ” Hermano Harmsleigh.” A few davs later she found some blotting- paper with the same name upon it and the words ” Poste Restante. Mata” (a neighbouring village). She had never heard of the girl Anita Esposito until the morning of the day he suddenly left Sorrento. On April 25 lie informed her he was leaving that day, and she advised him not to travel with a nurse, who was leaving. She then asked him if he passed as Hermano Harmsleigh in Naples. He replied,” Has Antonino told you? “ She said, “No, you are wrong; but does he know your secret ?” He then asked her how she had found out, and when she showed him the blotter he called her a “d–d [damned] spy.”

He then said he had a disagreeable story to tell her, adding that, if she had been a woman of the world she would not have thought much of it. He then told her that while driving in Naples he had seen the girl in the street, had taken a fancy to her, had got out of his trap and spoke to her, and eventually gave the girl’s mother 200f. for her, saying he was going to marry her. He added, ” I told them you were my married sister: but now they are beginning to suspect, and may come here any day, and I want to know what you are going to say.” He also told her that the girl was not enecinte. At this stage the Court adjourned until Monday.

Bicknell v. Bicknell [Day 2 – Nov 3, 1908]

(Before MR. JUSTICE BARGRAVE DEANE and a Special Jury,.)

BICKNELL V. BICKNELL -(CARIELLO Cited.)

Divorce-Cross Charges.

The hearing of this matrimonial suit, which, commenced on Friday last, was resumed, the first day’s proceedings being reported in The Times on October 31, 1908.

Certain interlocutory proceedings In the Court of Appeal with regard to a commission to take evidence in Italy were reported in 1908, W.N., 97. It will be remembered that Mr. Harriet Frances Bicknell, daughter of the late Judge Bagshawe, petitioned for the dissolution of her marriage with Herman Kentigern Bicknell on the ground of his cruelty and adultery. He, by his answer, denied these charges, and pleaded alternatively that if he had committed adultery the petitioner had by her mental cruelty conduced to it, had connived at it, and had condoned it. He further alleged that the petitioner had herself committed adultery with the Cavaliere Antonino Cariello, who was cited. The petitioner and the party cited denied the charges made against them

Mr. Barnard, KC. and Mr. Lailey were, for the petitioner; Mr. Marshall-Hall, KC., Mr.Haldenstein, and J. W. Orr for the respondent; and Mr. W. B. Campbell for the party cited.

The petitioner, further examined in chief by Mr. Barnard said that on April 25, 1907, the governess, Miss Serek, was in the house, and she (petitioner) made a complaint to her.

Mr. Marshall-Hall – I do so object to that form of question. The proper form is, ” Did you make a statement?

Mr. Barnard –Very welL. Did you make a statement ?

The petitioner.-Yes.

Mr. Barnard .- And in what state ,were you at the time ?

The petitioner.-I was in tears.

Examination continued.-She continued to write in affectionate terms to her husband up to the time when she saw him in England on June 13, 1907. On that day she took the children to Morle’s Hotel, where her husband was then living. She was prepared at that time to resume cohabitation with him, but he refused to allow her to remain and actually threatened to summon help and have her and her luggage turned out. He, however, retained the children. The following day she called a and he then told her that as she had not apologised he should take the children away. The apology was demanded in consequence of her having told him that his uncle, Mr. Sidney Bicknell, had professed to be ashamed of his nephew’s conduct. Mr. Sidney Bicknell, writing to the respondent from Barcombe-house, near Lewes, on June 11, 1907, denied having called the respondent a scoundrel or having said that he was ashamed to bear the same name as him. She had never stated that the respondent’s uncle had called him a scoundrel; but he saying that he was ashamed of his nephew. As soon as she obtained evidence of her husband’s adultery with Anita she filed her petition for divorce. When under the influence of drink or drugs her husband used to call her terrible names which upset her greatly and made her cry. . He would then say, “Smile, you devil, or I’ll make .you come cringing to me.”

Cross-examined by Mr. Marshall-Hall. She denied that Morle’s Hotel was full on the occasion of her call there on July 18. She had, to use her own words, ” stolen the children away, and they had been in hiding ever since.” Her husband did not see the children from July 15, 1907, until last Saturday. She had, changed her boy’s name from Bysshe to Basil. That was not done at the instigation of Father Galton, S.J., nor of the Jesuits. That was not one more influence exercised by them over her. Bysshe may have, been the name of an agnostic and one of Shelley’s names, while Basil was that of a saint in the calendar. The boy was christened Bysshe against her wish. Her husband’s adultery and not the change of his religion was the true cause of this suit. She had consulted Roman Catholics before bringing the suit.. She had written on June 22, 1907, ” I was nearly mad, but on Monday I stole the children away from him, and have been in hiding ever since. I have brought an action for divorce against him (I found I could do so as a Catholic, and was told by the Jesuits and the Archbishop that I ought to), and now we are waiting results. As long as he only treated me badly I could stand it, but once he touched the children it was another matter.” Bysshe was now at a Roman Catholic school at Boscombe. He had been sent there in July by her brother-in-law. She had previously had him at a Protestant school. The dispute at Morle’s Hotel had arisen because of what she asserted Mr. Sidney Bicknell had said about the respondent and the latter’s demand for an apology. Her husband had been for years a member of the Reform Club. Her husband had complained that she did not always speak the truth. Mr. Sidney Bicknell, on June 11, had written to her husband that “the ‘trouble’ I had in my mind was the children going to the English Church and your recession from Catholicism.” She was ready to forgive her husband for the adultery he had confessed to her on April 25 when she went to call on him on July 13 at Morle’s Hotel. On April 26, the day after her husband’s departure from Sorrento, she had written to him, “Cheer, up; I am glad you wrote me a kind note before you left Italy. You cannot think how miserable I was, seeing you leave me in such a manner. I hope when this reaches you you will feel happier. Don’t forget that your best and truest friend has always and will always be your wife. The children send you their love.-Your affectionate wife Harriet.”

She had not seen her husband except at Morle’s Hotel – since April 25 – the day on which he confessed his adultery with Anita. The confession was made on April 25, and not some days earlier. She had found the sheet of blotting paper containing the incriminating words, in one of her own books – a copy book she used daily for the study of German. She had not spoken to her husband the same day. He first told her of his adultery the day he left; she had not previously questioned him about it. She had never been to his bedroom or condoned his adultery after she was aware of it.

At this stage Mr. Marshall-Hall proposed to refer to the evidence taken on commission.in Italy.

Mr. Barnard objected to the evidence being used as the commission had not been returned to the Court, owing to the commissioner, Mr. Valentine Ball, barrister-at-law, not having been paid his fees.

Mr. Marshall-Hall .-It was a joint commission; my client has paid his half, but the other side refuses to do so.

Mr. Barnard – My learned friend is mistaken in describing it as a joint commission. It is his commission, and being on the spot we took the opportunity of examining certain witnesses before the commissioner.

Mr Justice Bargrave Deane. – The commissioner is entitled to keep beck the commission until he has been paid his fees.

Mr. Marshall-Hall. My client brought £ 20,000 into settlement, and he has now nothing. But the lady obtained leave from Mr. Justice Warrington to raise £1,000 for the purpose of this very commission.

Mr. Barnard – The learned judge gave her power to anticipate to that extent to enable her to defend the suit.

Mr Justice Bargrave Deane. – I have already intimated my view.

Mr. Marshall-Hall. – My solicitor client – Mr. Furber – undertakes to pay the commissioner’s fees. After the adjournment,

Mr Justice Bargrave Deane said that during the adjournment the commission had been returned to the Court, and was accordingly now in.

Cross-examination continued.-Four or five days before April 25 there had been a scene between her and her husband, but that had to do with his forbidding her to take part in the bazaar. Her husband had not confessed his adultery to her on April 21, but on April 25- the day he left Sorrento. Between April 21 and April 25 she had twice slept on a mattress in her husband’s room, as was stated by two witnesses -who were examined on commission. Her letter of April 26 to her husband did not refer to his dispute with her as to what his uncle had told her about him. She had been quite ready to forgive her husband. She had been told by the Jesuits ant the Archbishop that as a Catholic she could seek the protection of the law, but that even if she were successful in her suit she could never marry again. She had asked in May, 1907, a servant named Rose Scott if she remembered.seeing her with a black eye, but she (Rose Scott) did not remember the occasion. She did not remind Rose Scott of past favours, or warn her against allowing the respondent to go out with her young daughter.. She did say that the respondent had been lunching with the child at the Metropole Hotel, Brighton. She had heard of that incident from a Mrs. Farnham. She (petitioner) did not know that Rose Cox was a witness for the respondent. She had not sought to poison her mind against him. She told Rose Scott that her husband had stayed with Flora Cox ( a nurse) at an hotel in Naples, passing as ” Mr and Mrs. Bicknell ” She believed her statement to be true, having herself seen the names in the hotel book.

Mr. Marshall-Hall. – Then why is not that charge pleaded ?

The petitioner.-I already had one charge.of adultery, which I thought sufficient.

Cross-examination continued. – She had told Rose that the respondent had accused them of impropriety together. The respondent had dared to make that suggestion. She had not accused her husband of un-natural practices, nor was she responsible for witnesses having been cross-examined on commission in Italy to show that a certain Giuseppe was of evil habit.

Mr Justice Bargrave Deane. – Most- of the cross- examination referred to was on behalf of your client.

Mr. Barnard – There was, no such suggestion made by my client.

Mr Justice Bargrave Deane. – We are not trying any issue as to Giuseppe.

Before her marriage she had heard from a cousin that the respondent was addicted to morphia, and she had refused to marry-him when he first proposed to her. He was at that time a very rich man possessed of about £ 140,000, all of which was now gone! Subsequently the respondent. settled £ 20,000 upon her, and her father settled £1,000. She had been told that he had taken to morphia because she had refused him. Before her marriage she had written to her fiancé referring to her violent temper. In spite pf her, husband having struck her on the back of the hand with a ruler or paper knife and dragged her by the hair of her head, she had written to him in most affectionate terms about the times these incidents had taken-place. When her husband tore up the marriage certificate he told her that he could now repudiate the marriage..

Mr. Marshall-Hall. – Then why, Madam, if you believed your marriage was invalid did you continue to live with-your husband ? – .

The petitioner.-,He said he could repudiate it, if he liked !

Mr. Barnard – Voidable, -not void-!

The petitioner.-I only believed his statement for two hour.

Cross-examination continued.- She had in her letters referred to the bitter expressions she had used towards her husband, and regretted that she had not first bitten her tongue out.

Mr. Marshall-Hall. – You called him a skunk did you not? About the worst thing you can call a man; The petitioner. – That, I think, was one of his expressions.

Cross-examination continued.- He had objected before the birth of the child to that birth being announced in the Tablet, and her mother had promised not to do so, but she afterwards put the announcement in the paper. The respondent in consequence declined to allow her mother to see the baby until she had apologized, and on June 7 1900, his Honour Judge Bagshawe wrote on his wife’s behalf.

Mr Justice Bargrave Deane. – This is 1900 and the child was born in 1899 ! All I can say is that the respondent is a most unreasonable man. I cannot understand any man taking such a line as that.

Cross-examination continued.-In spite of her husband’s conduct, she loved him and forgave him, and she never contemplated divorce proceedings until he took away the children from her. On September 28 she wrote of the lady from whom she had heard of the incident at the Metropole Hotel, Brighton, “Mrs. F. has lied like a trooper, and will get into trouble.”

At this stage the Court adjourned.

Bicknell v. Bicknell [Day 3, Nov 4, 1908]

(Before MR. JUSTICE BARGRAVE DEANE and a Special Jury.)

BICKNELL V. BICKNELL – (CARIELLO Cited.)

Divorce-Cross Charges.

The further hearing of this matrimonial suit, which has been reported in The Times on October 31 and November 3, was continued, and concluded, this being the third day of the trial. It will be remembered that Mrs. Harriet Frances Bicknell, daughter of the late Judge Bagshawe, petitioned for the dissolution of her marriage with Herman Kentigern Bicknell on the ground of his cruelty and adultery. He, by his answer, denied these charges, and pleaded alternatively that if he had committed adultery the petitioner had by her mental cruelty conduced to it, had connived at it, and had condoned it. He further alleged that the petitioner had herself committed adultery with the Cavaliere Antonino Cariello, who was cited. The petitioner and the party cited denied the charges made against them.

Mr. Barnard, KC. and Mr. Lailey were, for the petitioner; Mr. Marshall-Hall, KC., Mr.Haldenstein, and J. W. Orr for the respondent; and Mr. W. B. Campbell for the party cited.

After the sitting of the Court.

Counsel having conferred together and seen the learned Judge in private for upwards of one hour and a half.

Mr. Marshall-Hall said that the respondent had never contested the adultery charged at Naples, but he did seriously deny any other charge made against him, and after the cross-examination yesterday those charges would not be persisted in, and he was quite willing that all charges made against the petitioner and the party cited should also be withdrawn and the jury discharged, and that a decree of judicial separation should be pronounced on certain conditions.

Mr. Barnard said that he was willing to withdraw all the charges made against the respondent -other than the one of adultery at Naples. The petitioner, however, was desirous of going into the box to deny the truth of the charges made against her.

The evidence of the girl Anita Esposito, taken on commission at Naples, was read, and went to show that the respondent had made her acquaintance in Naples five or six days before Christmas, 1906, and that the intrigue between them had continued for five months, during which time the respondent visited and passed the night at various hotels with her.

Further corroborative evidence, taken on commission, having been read,

The petitioner denied on oath that there was the slightest truth in the allegation made against her, and

The Cavaliere Antonino Cariello, in answer to Mr. Campbell, said that until the citation was served upon him in October he had no suspicion that the respondent had anything against him. He was a close friend of both Mr. and Mrs. Bicknell, and there was not a shadow of truth whatever in the charges made against him.

The respondent, in reply to Mr. Marshall-Hall said that he admitted his adultery at Naples with the girl Anita Esposito, but he denied the statement made as to the payment of money. That statement was not true. Ho had never struck his wife, and there was no truth in the charges of cruelty made against him. He did not drink to excess, nor was he habitually addicted to the use of drugs. There was no truth in the suggestion that he had ever committed adultery with Flora Cox.

Mr Justice Bargrave Deane accordingly pronounced a decree of judicial separation with costs, and gave the custody of the elder child to the respondent, and that of the younger one to the petitioner. Questions of access to the children would be dealt with in Chambers.

Judgment accordingly.

Liverpool Election 1841

August 15, 2018 Will Gray1 Comment

The Westminster Review says of the 1841 election, “the annals of parliamentary warfare contained no page more stained with the foulness of corruption and falsehood than that which relates the history of the general election in the year 1841”.

At the general election in 1841, the candidates for the two Liverpool seats were Lord Sandon and Mr. Cresswell, the sitting Tory M.P.’s, and Sir Joshua Walmsley, and Lord Palmerston standing as Whigs/Liberals. Why on earth Palmerston was standing in Liverpool when he had no connexion to it is a slight mystery, – still an arrogant, bombastic, opportunistic, womanising Foreign Secretary is hardly unknown in British political life. Sir Josh’s own version of the election follows shortly. The short piece below is from the Tory supporting Spectator.

Cooke’s Royal Amphitheatre of Arts, Liverpool

LIVERPOOL. Lord Sandon and Mr. Cresswell visited their supporters for the first time on Friday, and have personally addressed the electors. There was a large meeting at the Amphitheatre on Monday. Lord Sandon avowed himself ” such a Free-trader as Mr. Huskisson “; and endeavoured to show that Mr. Huskisson was such a Free-trader as Lord Sandon. He asked the electors what claim Lord Palmerston had upon them, when he had to accompany deputations from the town to complain of the Foreign Secretary’s inattention and neglect of the commercial interests of the country ?

The Spectator 26 June 1841, Page 6

Each of the Tories had a majority of over a thousand votes.

William Huskisson (1770-1830) had been one of the M.P.’s for Liverpool between 1823 and his death in 1830. Amongst other ministerial roles, he had been President of the Board of Trade; he was regarded as one of the few men who could reconcile Tory merchants to a free trade policy; hence Lord Sandon’s comments, in what was a very mercantile city. Huskisson is now rather better known as the world’s first railway passenger casualty when he was run over and fatally wounded by George Stephenson’s Rocket, at the opening of the Liverpool to Manchester railway. We’ll come to Sir Josh’s own version of this as well.

Viscount Sandon (1798 – 1882),was the Tory M.P. for Liverpool between 1831 and 1847 when he succeeded his father as Earl of Harrowby.

Sir Cresswell Cresswell, (1794 – 1863), was born Cresswell Easterby. He took the surname Cresswell in 1807 when his wife inherited much of the Cresswell family money. His mother was also a Cresswell. He had a reputation as a “violent Tory”. He was elected as one of the Tory M.P.’s for Liverpool in 1837, and again in 1841. He resigned his parliamentary seat in 1842 when he was made a judge of the Court of Common Pleas.

Agitation Dinner – Daniel O’Connell in Liverpool, January 1836

August 8, 2018 Will GrayLeave a comment

The Corn Exchange, Brunswick Street, Liverpool. “Drawn by G. and C. Pyne about 1827, engraved by T. Dixon.” Courtesy of the Internet Archive and the University of Toronto. http://www.victorianweb.org

AGITATION DINNER.-The Radicals of Liverpool dine Daniel O’Connell, M.P., Mr. Sheil, M. P., and Mr. Wise, M.P., at the Corn Exchange, Liverpool, on Wednesday next. The tickets are one guinea each.[Present day value – £ 1,172] The trio are to arrive by the mail-packet from Dublin on Wednesday morning, and an attempt is about to be made by the Irish Catholics to get up a procession from the pier where they land into the town; and for this purpose all the Hibernian clubs are to turn out with their flags and instruments of music. The place of dining will hold about 1,000 persons. This occasion will be Dan’s first public appearance in Liverpool, and the novelty of such a species of agitation may in consequence draw together a large mob. (The Times 25th January 1836)

This rather short cutting from the Times has a very pleasing circularity. A whole strand of the story runs through Liverpool at various times, and this one almost certainly brings together two different bits of the family. Mr. Sheil, M. P., and Mr. Wise, M.P. are Richard Lalor Shiel and Thomas Wyse, who were two of the leading founders of the Catholic Association along with Daniel O’Connell. Both were at school with Patrick Grehan II at Stonyhurst, in Lancashire. Tom Wyse was married to Princess Letizia Bonaparte [Napoléon’s niece] The marriage was fairly rocky, and in May 1828 they agreed to a separation.

Letizia threw herself into the Serpentine in Hyde Park in a suicide attempt [probably from the newly built bridge] and was rescued by Captain Studholme John Hodgson who became her lover. They had three children together, who all used the surname Bonaparte-Wyse rather than their father’s surname.

Dan the man is the father-in-law of a cousin of a great aunt, and the other person who is highly likely to be at the dinner is Joshua Walmsley. There are a number of reasons to suppose this. He was a newly elected councillor, certainly wealthy enough to afford the cost of the dinner, politically ambitious, and as a grain merchant unlikely not to have wanted to be seen at a political event at the Corn Exchange

Joshua was a Reformer,[or Whig, or Radical, the terms were fairly interchangeable] councillor won 260 votes in Castle Street ward or just over 73% of the turnout. The ward returned three Whig, or Reformer, councillors. The polling place was at the two windows of the King’s Arms Hotel fronting Castle-street. He was re-elected unopposed in 1838, and became mayor in November 1839 – 1840 while the Reformers still had a majority on the council with 28 councillors , and 16 aldermen against 20 Tory councillors.

This was the first election to Liverpool Town Council, held on Boxing Day 1835. It was conducted under the provisions of the Municipal Corporations Act 1835. The Act reformed local government replacing corporations which were largely run by un-elected freemen, by councils elected by ratepayers.

After the election of Councillors on 26 December 1835 and the Aldermanic election in January 1836, the composition of the council was 44 Reformer councillors, and 15 aldermen, and 4 Tory councillors and 1 alderman. At the meeting of the Council in January 1836, sixteen Aldermen were elected by the Council, eight for a term of six years and eight for a term of three years. 15 whigs and 1 Tory.

Joshua Walmsley was elected Mayor of Liverpool in 1839, and was knighted on the occasion of the Queen’s marriage in 1840.