CHAPTER V.
LIVERPOOL—CHESTER—SHREWSBURY—WORCESTER—HEREFORD.
Steamers leave Dublin every week-night for Liverpool, as they do Fall River for New York, and the distance is about the same. It involves a trip of a few miles out of Dublin harbor and bay, across St. George's channel, and four miles up the River Mersey at the other end. It is an English custom to put the name of the river last, while Americans put it first. It would sound very odd to an American to hear the remark River Ohio or River Mississippi; and so it would to an Englishman, to hear the expression Thames River.
Every wise tourist, on visiting New York for the first time, is on deck early to see the approaches to the harbor, and the scenery below the city. One visiting Liverpool will do likewise; for this is to be his first view of the Mother Country. We were on our steamer's deck at 5 o'clock a. m., on Friday morning, May 3. In the distance, on our right, towered up, though somewhat obscurely, the bold headland of Holyhead, a part of Wales. As we approach it we discover the great gorge in the rock, and the bridge over it, and also the white lighthouse and long, substantial breakwater for the defence of the harbor. Sweeping in a curved course to the southeastward we see the Welsh high uplands, with their thrifty farms and many windmills. Behind these, as a splendid background, the Welsh mountains loom up, and the peaks of Snowden and other highlands show themselves.
We now pass an interesting object,—an assemblage of rocks called the Skerries, three miles or so distant from the Welsh shore. They are very dangerous, and are lighted, being directly in the way of passage to the River Mersey. Next we arrive at Point Lynas, the pilot-station for Liverpool. Near it is Orme's Head, a rough promontory on which is a lighthouse, having a Fresnel light, one of the most powerful in the world. To add to the picturesqueness of the scenery, here and there are little Welsh villages, cosily situated, and nestling at the base of the hills. Among them is Llandudno and the watering-places; and so we anticipate a higher type of civilization, signs of which are on every hand.
Not far from the mouth of the Mersey, fresh evidences of commercial life present themselves. Steamers, pilot-boats, and tugs thicken, and we know we are nearing a port of no ordinary importance. We pass the Northwest Lightship, and soon after hear the bell-buoy on the bar sending out its plaintive warning as it pitches and rolls. Like faithful sentinels are Formby and Crosby lightships; and at the right is Rock Light, at New Brighton.
This place is the end of the peninsula, which for five miles stretches down the river, and is the shore opposite Liverpool and its suburbs. It is a pleasant and cheap watering-place, and one much sought by the common people. Steamboats from Liverpool run half-hourly between the places. New Brighton has a good beach, and there are many restaurants along the upper side. An old stone fort is one of the objects of interest, and free to visitors. On any fair day may be seen thousands of people promenading over the beach, or riding in teams or on Irish donkeys, which are at various stations ready for hire, most of them owned by aged men and women, and let for a single ride or by the hour. Here are stands for the sale of round clams (quahaugs, as we call them), muscles, periwinkles, and, it may be, a few poor oysters. There are also cheap refreshment tables, and facilities for the entertainment of children, such as Punch and Judy, swings, revolving horses. From this place, along the right bank of the river, the landscape is diversified with low hills, clean fields, woods, and groves, with here and there a little settlement. Opposite the city proper lies Birkenhead, a busy place, with docks and shipping, of its own, and a population of 65,980. In 1818 Birkenhead had but fifty inhabitants, but they have trebled since 1851, a rapidity seldom witnessed in the Old World.
Up the Mersey on the left side, the landscape is picturesque and rural. Along the river, on comparatively level land, with a slight rise at the rear, and some especially elevated points at the extreme upper end, lies the substantial and sombre city of Liverpool. It has literally forests of masts. There are no wharves extending into the river, but at stated intervals are openings into the famous docks. These are controlled by oaken gates, of which there are eight in all, some of them a hundred feet wide. They are opened and closed twice daily, at turns of the tide. The docks are built of hewn stone, the oldest of a perishable sandstone, but the newer of granite. They are built somewhat in the rear of the outer or river docks, and open into each other. The spaces between them are used like our wharves, as sites for large warehouses and sheds of deposit. These docks and landing-places extend five miles on the Liverpool side of the river, and two miles on the Birkenhead side. In the aggregate, the docks cover 404 acres, or about two thirds of a square mile. The aggregate length of the wharf space is sixteen miles on the Liverpool side, and ten miles at Birkenhead. The cost was $50,000,000, $35,000,000 of which was expended at Liverpool. The Landing Stage, as it is called, where passage is taken to the steamers, is an enormous floating platform, supported on iron tanks, and is along the business centre of the city, outside of the main street or sea-wall, which is five miles long, eleven feet thick, and forty feet in average height from its foundations.
At the beginning of the eighteenth century Liverpool had but one dock; but between 1830 and 1860, over twenty-five new ones were opened.