MERSEY may be described as the most modern of our rivers. There was a time, in fact—and that not measured by geological computation—when, so far as knowledge of it went, the Mersey could hardly be said to be in existence. Even the great estuary where a world’s argosies now assemble escaped the attention of the Romans, and we come down to the beginning of the eleventh century before we find the Mersey named in any record. It is mentioned for the first time in a deed of the reign of Ethelred, and there it figures less as a river than as a boundary mark concerning a grant of some lands “between Maersae and Ribbel.” It has been said also of the Mersey that it got its name from the fact that it formed the northern limit of the kingdom of Mercia. Another derivation, and not an altogether unlikely one, when considered along with the chief seat on its banks and the open channel beyond, is that in “Mersey” we have the Celtic word “Marusia,” signifying quiet or sluggish water. A more curious derivation, and one lending itself to the belief that in the early history of our country the character and identity of the Mersey were very different from what they are to-day, is that the word is from the Anglo-Saxon “Meres-ig,” or “Sea-Island.” It is known that what is now the Wirral Peninsula, forming the western boundary of the estuary of the Mersey, was at one time cut off from the mainland by the sea. It is known also that the Dee flowed over into the Mersey; and as the two rivers must then have appeared as one, with a common mouth, it is easily seen how in the long ago the Mersey would escape recognition altogether.
But the river that was to minister to the greatness of Lancashire, and through Lancashire to aid so materially in the development of industrial Britain, was, of course, no sudden creation. It may have been for ages nothing but quiet or dead water, but Nature in her slow and sure way was all the while working in its favour. For centuries, vessels, as they sailed up and down the west coast, passed by the Mersey, and found their way instead up the Dee to Chester, or up the Ribble to Preston, and occasionally up the Lune to Lancaster. But, even as they did so, these streams were gradually becoming less navigable. A strong tidal flow raised sand barriers at their entrances, and for some considerable distance upwards, that meant danger to shipping. The same cause gave the Mersey its opportunity and its individuality; and once the bar at its mouth was crossed, there were found not only capacious and safe anchorage, but possibilities for commercial enterprise that have gone on increasing from the moment at which men began to take advantage of them.
THE MERSEY.
The Mersey has its origin in three other streams that come down to it from Yorkshire and Derbyshire uplands; and when it becomes for the first time entitled to the name, it is among huge factories, and not by willow-covered banks. The three streams in question are the Tame, the Goyt, and the Etherow. Starting from the Peak district, and running between Derbyshire and Cheshire, the Goyt strikes a northerly course, and for a considerable distance forms the boundary line between the two counties. Near to the village of Mellor it receives the Etherow, which has come down from the breezy region known as the backbone of England, almost at the meeting-point between Yorkshire, Derbyshire, and Cheshire. Like the Goyt, the Etherow serves as a boundary line between Derbyshire and Cheshire. It runs through Longdendale, where is one of those artificial lake districts which come by way of compensation to the country from the town; for here, on the slopes of Blackstone-edge, are the reservoirs which until recently were thought sufficient for the water-supply of Manchester and district. Four in number, they mean a daily supply of 25,000,000 gallons; but that is not enough for the steadily increasing population of the great city and its environs, and Manchester has therefore gone much further afield, and tapped Thirlmere, so as to secure an additional supply of 50,000,000 gallons. From here the Etherow runs merrily down to where the Goyt comes northwards to meet it. The combined stream, now of somewhat doubtful identity, goes westward to Stockport, and receives there the Tame from beyond Saddleworth, on the Yorkshire borders.
NORTHENDEN (p. [245]).