north of King’s Dock we saw the Albert Dock, with the Marine Parade in front of it; also Salthouse Dock, Canning Dock, George’s Dock, with its landing-stage towards the river; and the enormous Prince’s Dock still further to the south, and a line of basins and docks beyond. These docks are not small pools, but large rectangular lakes, crowded thickly with magnificent shipping loaded with the produce of numberless countries, their tall masts rising towards the sky in dense groves, their yards so interlocked that it seemed impossible that they could ever be extricated. The sight gave us some idea of the number of vessels which belong to Liverpool, or annually visit this port.
Beyond this double row of docks we saw the vast city rising gradually from the water, with winding streets extending from the Custom House in all directions, the larger running eastward, with numerous churches and other public buildings scattered amid them; and far beyond, squares and parks, with streets of handsome private residences.
Little more than a century ago Liverpool possessed only three small docks, and the shipping belonging to the port amounted to only 236 vessels. At present upwards of 10,000 vessels belong to the port; while the ships entered outwards and inwards number upwards of 30,000, with a burden of more than four million tons. We went on board a training-ship for poor boys taken from the streets, to fit them for becoming seamen in the merchant service. There is also another ship to prepare officers, conducted on the same principle as that of the Worcester in the Thames. We then pulled on board a large Australian emigrant ship about to sail. She carried three classes of passengers. The first had very handsome cabins surrounding the saloon, which was fitted up in a luxurious style. On the deck below there were the second-class passengers, whose cabins were comfortable, but confined, and their mess-cabin was rather small for the number of people to occupy it. The larger part of the lower deck was fitted with rough wooden berths, partitioned off for each family, one sleeping-place being above the other, and a small space in front for the people to dress in. There was an after division occupied by the single women, who had a matron to superintend them; while the single men were also in a division by themselves. They were all under the care of a surgeon. There was a schoolmaster, to teach those who wished to learn during the voyage, and to act as chaplain. Constables were selected from amongst the most respectable of the married men, whose duty it was to keep order, and to see that the rules and regulations were properly observed. Of course, with so many people crowded together, it is highly necessary that cleanliness should be attended to. The ship was getting under weigh, and the people who had come to see their relatives and friends off were ordered into their boats. We witnessed many pathetic scenes. There was much fluttering of handkerchiefs as the boats pulled away, while the women crowded the sides, and the men climbed up into the shrouds and waved their hats. The moorings were slipped, the tug began puffing and snorting, and the stout ship commenced her voyage half round the world, bearing away many who were never again to see their native shores. Many thousands of people thus leave Liverpool for Australia, New Zealand, or the Cape, as well as for Canada, the United States, and South America, every year.
It took us four days to obtain even a cursory view of Liverpool and Birkenhead. We were very glad to be at sea again. The weather was hot, and running about all day was tiring work. Leaving the river, we steered along the Lancashire coast, but did not put into any of its numerous harbours, contenting ourselves with looking at the chart and reading a description of each place as we came off it. Our course was for the Mull of Galloway, the most southern point of Scotland; but we could not steer directly for it, as we should have run down the Isle of Man, “and sunk it, for what we could tell,” as Dick observed. We had therefore to keep to the eastward of that island. Among the places we passed were Lytham, Blackpool, and Fleetwood; and then, crossing Morecambe Bay, we passed Walney, to the south of the river Duddon. From Fleetwood a number of vessels run across to the Isle of Man. We were much amused on coming on deck in the morning to hear Dick Pepper remark:
“Hullo! what’s become of the land?”
It was the first time that we had been actually out of sight of land.
“How shall we manage to find our way now?” he asked.
I pointed to the compass.
“That will take us there,” I answered.