There was another house at Seaforth which I must also mention, Barkeley House, the residence of Mr. Smith, commonly known as "Square-the-Circle Smith," from the fact of his claiming to have solved this problem. Mr. Smith was the father of Mr. James Barkeley Smith, who for many years did good work in the City Council. A sketch of the Seaforth of those days would not be complete without a reference to Rector Rothwell of Sefton, reputed to be one of the most beautiful readers in the Church; he drove down to the shore in his yellow gig, winter and summer, and bathed in the sea. Another grand old man was Archdeacon Jones, who succeeded his son as the Incumbent of Christ Church, Waterloo, and who died at the age of 96. I look back upon his memory with reverence, for he was a charming man; his presence was dignified, his features refined, almost classical, and he was endowed with a soft, silvery voice, and, both as a reader and preacher, he was greatly appreciated. I must mention a touching little incident. About two years before he died he broke his leg. I called with my wife to see him; before leaving he begged us to kneel down and he gave us his blessing, expressed in simple but beautiful language, and spoken with deep feelings of love and kindness.
I must now revert to my story. The railway from Waterloo to Southport was opened in July, 1848; it was called the "Shrimpers' Line," and it was thought it would never pay, as there was apparently no traffic. I remember, as a small boy, seeing the first train start from Waterloo; the occasion was a visit made by the directors to inspect the bridge over the river Alt, and my father was one of the party. The train consisted of two first-class coaches, and it was drawn by three grey horses, driven by a man seated on the top of the first coach. Some time after I saw the first locomotives brought from Liverpool. The Crosby Road was good enough, but the roads leading from the main Crosby Road to Waterloo were simply sandy lanes, and along these the heavy lorries, which carried the locomotives, had to be hauled. It was a work of great difficulty, as the wheels of the lorries sank up to their axles in the deep sand.
The railway was opened from Waterloo to Southport for some years before it was extended to Liverpool. To-day this line is probably the most profitable part of the Lancashire and Yorkshire system.
In 1849 my father bought a house in Edge Lane, then a very charming and attractive suburb. After passing Marmaduke Street, Edge Hill, there were no houses in Edge Lane on the south side until Rake Lane was reached. Here were the residences of Sir John Bent, Mr. George Holt, and others. The north side of Edge Lane, from the Botanic Gardens up to Laurel Road, was fringed with villas, surrounded by large gardens containing many fine trees, and the houses in this part were large and handsome; many of them still remain. Among those who then resided in Edge Lane were James Ryley, William Holt, F. A. Clint, Simon Crosfield, Mr. Lowndes, and Dashper Glynn. Mr. Heywood lived in Edge Lane Hall, then considered a house of much importance, surrounded as it was by a pretty park.
The principal events which dwell in my memory as having taken place at this time are the Fancy Fair held in the Prince's Park, in aid of our local charities, a very brilliant affair; and the opening of the great exhibition of 1851 in Hyde Park. It was a matter of grave consideration with my parents if I was of sufficient age to appreciate the exhibition, but in the end I was allowed to go to London; and I can only say, for the benefit of all youngsters of 10 and 11 years, that I greatly enjoyed that magnificent display, and it produced a lasting impression upon my mind. I recall at this day every detail. The wonderful show of machinery impressed me most, but the weaving of cloth and the various industrial processes were all of absorbing interest to my youthful mind, so much so that on one day I lost my party, and had to find my way back to our lodgings. Fortunately, half-a-crown had been placed in my pocket for this contingency, and with the help of a friendly policeman I had no difficulty.
The building of the church of St. John the Divine, at Fairfield, greatly interested me, and during my holidays I was taken up to the top of the tower to lay the first stone of the steeple. When the church was consecrated in 1854, Bishop Graham, of Chester, lunched at the "Hollies," my father being the chairman of the Building Committee.
After spending two years at a dame's school at Kensington, I was sent to the upper school of the Liverpool Collegiate. I was placed in the preparatory school, under the Rev. Mr. Hiley. From the preparatory school I proceeded to the sixth class. My career was by no means distinguished; four times a day I walked up and down from Edge Lane to school. My companions were Tom and Hugh Glynn; they, like myself, made but little headway. Dr. T. Glynn is now one of the leaders of our medical profession, and a short time ago I asked him how it was that we as boys were so stupid. He replied that our walk of eight miles a day exhausted all our physical and mental energies, and we were left good for nothing; and I might add we had in those days little or no relaxation in the shape of games. There was a little cricket in the summer, but this was the only game ever played, so that our school-days were days of unrelieved mental and physical work, which entirely overtaxed our strength. The Rev. J. S. Howson, the principal of the Collegiate, was very much beloved by the boys. I was a very small boy, but not too small for the principal to notice and address to him a few kindly words; in after life, when he became Dean of Chester, he did not forget me. His sympathy and love for boys and his power of entering into their feelings made him a very popular head-master.
At the age of 14 I was sent to Dr. Heldenmier's school at Worksop, in Nottinghamshire, where the Pestalozzian system of education was carried on. It was a celebrated school; many Liverpool boys were there with me, the Muspratts, Hornbys, Langtons, etc., and though we worked hard we had plenty of relaxation in the workshop and the playing fields, besides long walks in the lovely parks that surround Worksop, and which are known as the Dukeries. During these walks we were encouraged to botanise, collect birds' eggs, etc., and the love of nature which was in this way inculcated has been one of the delights of my life. The noble owners of these parks were most kind to the boys. We were frequently invited to Clumber, the residence of the Duke of Newcastle, who was Minister of War. The Crimean war was then being waged, and we considered the duke a very great person; and a few words of kindly approbation he spoke to me are among the sunny memories of my school days. The Duke of Portland, who was suffering from some painful malady, which caused him to hide himself from the world, was also always glad to see the boys, and to show us the great subterranean galleries he was constructing at Welbeck; but our greatest delights were skating on the lake at Clumber in winter, and our excursions to Roch Abbey and to Sherwood Forest in the summer. The delight of those days will never fade from my memory. We used to return loaded with treasures, birds' eggs, butterflies, fossils, and specimens of wild flowers. In the autumn Sir Thomas White always gave us a day's outing, beating up game for him; this we also greatly enjoyed; and how we devoured the bread and cheese and small beer which the keepers provided us for lunch!
We were taken by the directors of the Manchester, Sheffield and Lincolnshire Railway to the opening of the new docks at Grimsby. The directors had a special train which stopped to pick up the boys at Worksop. Charles Dickens was of the party. On the return journey, I was in his carriage; he gave me a large cigar to smoke—the first, and the last cigar I ever smoked, for the effect was disastrous.