Wallasey History-Wreckers,USS Pennsylvania,Images past and present

Updated: 6 May 2007

1 of 2

Contents:

Page 1:
1. Wallasey Parish Church Fire
2. The Wallasey Wreckers & the US Pennsylvania
3. Leasowe Castle (Updated - New Images) Dec 04
4. Fort Perch Rock
5. World's First Solar Heated Building

Page 2:
Old Descriptive of Cheshire
Images in thumb nail format of Wirral Aspects
Personal Photographs taken by myself and daughter Lorna

I lived in Moreton, to the right, beneath Leasowe, it was great in the summer on those beaches
Location

SOME RESEARCH ON HOME TOWN HISTORY

Also below - Old and New Wallasey Images

When a teenager on Merseyside, I had heard of an excellent microfilm library in Liverpool, which housed old local newspapers. I had been wondering for a while what had happened to the old Wallasey Parish Church, the ruined stumps of which still rest on the present site in Wallasey Village. I was intrigued and went over to Liverpool on the ferry boat to see for myself. I was looking through old film of the Liverpool Daily Post. I had a slight idea of the dates so investigated for myself. The result was an excellent account of the traumatic night - February 1st 1857. This report was printed in the Liverpool Daily Post Feb 2nd 1857, on page 5. Following on from this, and connected with this church, is the story, also taken from the Liverpool Daily Post, of an account of the wrecking of the packet ship Pennsylvania, which had set sail from Liverpool en route to New York on Christmas 1838. Cornwall is traditionally the region of fantastic tales of wreckers and smugglers, but Wallasey was just as notorious, maybe worse! I live there no longer, having been away with HM Forces, now settled in Sutton Coldfield.

The following is a reprinted account direct from the microfilm of the original story which I had copied into a notebook all those years ago!

EXTRAORDINARY FIRE YESTERDAY - WALLASEY CHURCH BURNT DOWN

The Church today with the gutted tower still remaining

The Parish Church of Wallasey, an ancient edifice, was utterly destroyed by fire yesterday forenoon. We have made enquiries respecting the catastrophe, and the following is the result. It appears that yesterday morning, so early as 2 o'clock, an inhabitant of the village, on looking through his bedroom window, discovered smoke and flame issuing from the church, and immediately communicated the fact to the rector, the Rev P Haggit. The Rector and several of the parishioners proceeded at once to the spot, and found that the flames were breaking through the windows, and the fire presented an alarming aspect. A messenger was dispatched for the Birkenhead Fire Brigade and engine that being the nearest from which effectual assistance could be had in such an emergency. In the meantime the flames spread rapidly, the persons present being unable to do anything towards arresting their progress.

From every window the fire burst forth, and burnt with such brilliancy as to be visible from a distance of several miles. In a brief period the roof fell in, shortly afterwards the fire brigade from Birkenhead arrived at half past three, but even then any efforts they could make were inoperative from the want of a supply of water. After some time water was obtained and the engine got into play, but it was then too late to make any effectual efforts towards arresting the progress of the fire. The body of the church was completely gutted and presented nothing but a heap of smouldering ruins. The register books and some documents of value connected with the church were the only things saved from the conflagration. The organ created a few years ago, and which cost three hundred guineas, was totally consumed, also a handsome font, presented to the church by Mr Chambers. The church contained a set of six bells, which fell with a tremendous crash during the progress of the fire. Only two of the bells remain entire, the remainder being broken to pieces. The church underwent very extensive improvements a year or two ago, and a large sum of money was expended. A new roof was added, and the organ and the font previously alluded to were introduced at the same time. As to the origin of the fire there is little doubt. The fires connected with the flues for heating the building were lighted as usual about eight on Saturday evening, and it is supposed that some of the flues, becoming overheated, had ignited the flooring, and thus led to the fatal results which followed.

The loss is covered by insurance in the Sun Fire office to the extent of about £2000. The church was one of the oldest ecclesiastical edifices in the neighbourhood. The tower bears the date of 1530, although the church itself was rebuilt about 100 years ago. The ruins constitute an interesting sight; and during the whole of yesterday crowds went to view the desolation.

This image was taken February 25th 2007

The Wreckers

"God bless feyther and God bless mather and God send us a wreck afore morning"
Old Wallasey Prayer

Ordnance Survey

The prayer of the Wirral Wreckers was tragically answered on many occasions. At the foot of the old Wallasey Parish Church tower lie two weather worn and almost forgotten gravestones, concealing a tale of one such shipwreck on the Wirral shore. An apt resting place, looking out, as it does, over Leasowe Castle and the Wirral shore, the waters of Liverpool Bay and the very sandbank where disaster struck. On Christmas Day, 1838, the packet ship "Pennsylvania" set sail from Liverpool bound for New York. She proceeded to the mouth of the Mersey to await the first favourable wind. She was a superior and fast sailing freight carrying vessel, with cabins commodious and elegantly fitted. On this voyage there were 40 people on board, of which 5 were passengers. On the 12th day of Christmas, a Sunday, she finally put to sea on her fatal voyage. It was 10.30am and there was already a strong wind blowing from the southeast. The ship had a good run as far as Point Lynas, off Anglesey, which she reached by 9pm. Then she was totally becalmed for some 10 minutes, the proverbial lull before the storm. The wind freshened from the southeast, and soon after midnight the Pennsylvania was in the midst of a hurricane. It was the 13th day of Christmas. The storm continued unabated throughout the Monday. About the Pennsylvania efforts were made to clear the damage, and turn the ship about. When daylight came on Tuesday, Captain Smith, her Commander, tried to put back to Liverpool. On reaching Ormes Head, a course was plotted for the Mersey Lightship. Unknown to the Pennsylvania, however, the floating light had parted from its mooring the previous day. Normally it was anchored off the East Hoyle Bank to help guide mariners safely into the Horse and Rock Channels. The newspapers of the time were suspicious:

"To say the violence of the gale drove her from her moorings is absurd. The floating light ......... makes its appearance ......... so regularly in the Mersey with every onslaught of the elements ...... (that one might suspect) that those who tended it felt so deeply for their own personal safety in times of danger that they quit their post. Again, during the past gale when most needed to guide vessels in distress, has this vessel parted her moorings. It is scarcely two months since she parted her moorings before a gale and came into port. To us this is very extraordinary and inexplicable"

The Pennsylvania still bewildered by the absence of the Lightship, dropped anchor off Hoylake, about three miles from the shore. It was now 1.30pm on Tuesday. Before another anchor could be dropped however, the vessel swung around, drifted, and struck the Hoyle Bank. The force of the gale rammed her into the bank 8 or 9 times, and she started to take on water rapidly. Strangely, two other packet ships, the St Andrew and the Lockwoods also struck the Bank, not more than half a mile apart. One cannot help but recall the words of James Stonehouse, writing in 1863:

"Many a fierce fire has been lighted on the Wirral shore on stormy nights to lure the good ship onto the Burbo or Hoyle Banks, there to beat and strain and throb, until her timbers parted ......."

In an attempt to reach the shore, the Pennsylvania's jolly boat was launched into the gale. Aboard it were 5 passengers, including one William Douglas, as well as the Chief Mate, Lucas B Blydenburgh, and several of the crew. Those worn gravestones in a Wallasey churchyard tell only too well the fate of that little boat. Only one of its occupants survived. Meanwhile back on the wreck of the Pennsylvania, the long boat, the only other prospect of escape, was lost in heavy waves, which also swept the Captain overboard. It was 3pm Tuesday. Much of the hull was now underwater. The remaining crew climbed desperately into the rigging where they were to cling for dear life for 19 hours. It was not until 10 am the next day that the steam tug Victoria took them off, except that is, three of the crew who had literally been starved to death of cold and hunger in the rigging during the night. 21 were saved from the wreck, 19 drowned. From the wreckers of the Wirral shore, the storm had come as a belated Christmas present. Liverpool newspapers commented:

"We lament to find that these infamous wretches, the wreckers, have been at their fiendlike occupation, plundering what the elements have spared, instead of seeking to alleviate the calamities of their fellow creatures. The wreckers who infest the Cheshire coast were not long in rendering the catastrophe a source of emolument to themselves. The property of the passengers and crew where plundered by them to an alarming extent. The Steward, who had in his trunk sixty watches and other articles of jewellery, found on regaining the vessel that the whole had disappeared". Some reports placed the value of the cargoes carried by the Pennsylvania and St Andrew as high as £400,000, so it is hardly surprising that the wreckers chose the Pennsylvania as their "especial prey". The Pennsylvania had suffered most, her state cabin has almost entirely been stripped. A number of plunderers were, however, taken into custody. One in particular, a John Bibby, boatman, is worthy of our interest. When apprehended he was found to have forty yards of new cloth, valued at £12, folded round his body. In his fishing boat were found books, a large and handsome cruet stand, a black coat, a pair of trousers, a pair of drawers and much else.

It transpired that the coat had belonged to the late Captain Smith and the cruet stand to the same ship. The trousers belonged to Mr Thompson, its sole surviving passenger. The owner of the drawers was never ascertained. Bibby claimed in court that the cloth had been given him by a man on the Pier Head. Nor had he any idea how the other articles had found their way into his boat. He was fined £27. In default of payment he was to be jailed for 6 months. He might have considered himself lucky, for it was an age when a not unknown penalty for wrecking was public whipping or even transportation. William Douglas, one of the 5 passengers, who along with the First and Second Mates, tried to escape from the wreck. however, the ill fated boat did not live long in the tempest. About midway between the vessel and shore, she swamped, and all on board were thrown into the sea. He succeeded in reaching the shore, he was immediately taken to Leasowe Castle but he only survived a short time. The Captain and First and Second Mates were also drowned. It was thus reported,

"His mortal remains (Lucas Blydenburgh) were attended to the grave by all American Captains in port, as well as by hundreds of seamen. The sight was most mournful"

The Inscription reads:

"Sacred to the memory of Lucas B Blydenburgh of New York, Mate of the Packet Ship Pennsylvania, who was drowned near Leasowe Castle after leaving the wreck during the Memorable Gale on January the 8th 1839. Aged 40 years"

Max Moeller Director of Research Services The Historical Society of Pennsylvania 1300 Locust St. Philadelphia, PA 19107 has replied to a question from me asking about ships images, he states that:

I have found two images reproduced in published sources (both of which should still be available in bookstores) of the U.S. Ship Pennsylvania . Neither of the originals are owned by HSP. They are: “Launch of the U.S. Ship Pennsylvania”, a wood engraving by R.S. Gilbert, July 1837 – private collection (reproduction found on page 271 of Russell Weigley’s Philadelphia: A 300 Year History, 1982); and “View of the Launch of the U.S. Ship of War Pennsylvania”, lithograph by Lehman & Duval after G. Lehman, 1837 – Library of Congress (reproduction in Edwin Wolfe’s Philadelphia: Portrait of an American City, 1990).

The following extract is taken from the book "Portrait of Wirral" by "Kenneth Burnley".

One hundred and fifty years ago this stretch of coast was renowned for its wreckers; robbers and smugglers who would lure the Liverpool-bound vessels on to the sandbanks using decoy lights and flares. Once ashore, the wreckers showed no mercy towards the unfortunate crew and passengers; if their lives were spared, their cargoes and belongings were not. But not all wrecking was deliberate; winter storms claimed many ships, and local people were quick to arrive on the scene to salvage what they could. Henry Aspinall, of Birkenhead, wrote this vivid description of a severe storm in 1839: On 6th January 1839, the day was fine; a fair wind blew for outward-bound ships. Many left the Mersey under sail, among them the St Andrew, the Lockwoods, and the Pennsylvania, first class packet ships, loaded with valuable cargoes and emigrants together with a few saloon passengers for New York. On the morning of the 7th, the barometer fell to a very low point. The vessels had almost reached Holyhead, when suddenly the wind changed to the north-west and blew a hurricane. The three vessels at once put back for the Mersey, the only shelter in such a gale. Unfortunately the wind veered dead north-west, and took the three vessels on to the Burbo and West Hoyle Banks. The sea rose to a fearful height, and the vessels settled in the sand until they were literally smashed to pieces. No boats could live. The moment they reached the water they were swamped and all on board were washed away. Many were drowned and washed ashore at Leasowe, Hoylake, and the neighbouring coast. Such a sight I never saw before or since, nor should I like to. The scene deeply impressed. The beach was covered with wreckage and dead bodies. I vividly recall the latter . . it was, indeed, a most pitiful sight. To this day, in old Hoylake cottages, may be seen cupboards, doors, satinwood fittings, and glass and ebony door handles, washed up and appropriated by the finders , sad relics of a catastrophe which caused a great sensation in the district.

After a long time of searching for images of this ship I was contacted by Ron Blyden (Nov 06) who provided me with this artists "impression" of the fateful events described above. He also provided mew with a link to another painting, by the same artist, of the ship coming into Liverpool, passing Perch Rock. I am trying to obtain a copy of this image as well. Thanks to Ron, a descendant of Lucas Blydenburg. This is a "cleaned up" version of the original browned image.

The inscription beneath the painting:

Reads:

The loss of the Pennsylvania, New York Packet Ship, the Lockwoods Emigrant ship, the Saint Andrew Packet ship and the Victoria from Charleston, near Liverpool, during the hurricane on Monday & Tuesday Jany 7th & 8th 1839. Also the Ward from St Johns at anchor; the Victoria Steam Tug towing the Lifeboat and the Mountaineer steamer, with a view of Leasowe Lighthouse & Bidston Hill. This print is intended to represent the vessels shortly after they struck on the Tuesday afternoon from particulars given to the artist by Captain Sprowle of The Lockwoods; Captain Thompson of the Saint Andrew and by Captain Candler of the Victoria. (The perspective of the painting is as if the artist was out to sea, off Mockbeggar Wharf, looking back towards the Wirral. The River Mersey is to the left, the Dee off to the right - mk).

The artists viewpoint is obviously on the Mockbeggar Banks but has a section missing. Figure 1 is Leasowe Lighthouse and Figure 3 is Leasowe Castle whilst 4 is in the general direction of New Brighton and the mouth of the Mersey. But Figure 2 should be the Observatory/Lighthouse on Bidston Hill. On a line of sight from the imagined viewpoint of the artist this would make sense but then he has missed out Wallasey Brow and St Hilary's Church. The darker patch behind the ailing ship on the left is too low.

That this part of the coast in the past enjoyed a very sinister reputation for wrecking and similar offences may be gathered from an extract from the report of the Royal Commission for enquiring into the establishment of a Police Force in England in 1839. The County of Cheshire was said to be, with Cornwall, the worst in the kingdom for wreckers, and it was stated "that on the Cheshire coast not far from Liverpool, they will rob those who have escaped the perils of the sea and come safe on shore and will mutilate dead bodies, for the sake of rings and personal ornaments.". Stonehouse, writing in 1863, states: "Wirral at that time and the middle of the last century was a desperate region, the inhabitants were nearly all wreckers and smugglers, they ostensibly carried on the trade and calling of fishermen, farm labourers and small farmers, but they were deeply saturated with the sin of covetousness, and many a fierce fire has been lighted on the Wirral shore on stormy nights to lure the good ship on the Burbo or Hoyle banks, there to beat and strain and throb until her timbers parted and her planks were floating in confusion on the stormy waves. Fine times then for the Cheshire men. On stormy days and nights, crowds might have been seen hurrying to the shore with carts, barrows, horses, asses, or oxen even which were made to draw timber, bales, boxes or anything that the raging waters might have cast up. Many a half-drowned sailor has had a knock on the sconce, whilst trying to obtain a footing that has sent him reeling back into the seething water, and many a house had been suddenly replenished with eatables and drinkables and furniture and garniture where previously bare walls and wretched accommodation only were visible. Then for smuggling. Fine times the runners used to have in my young days. Scarcely a house in North Wirral that could not provide a guest with a good, stiff glass of brandy or Hollands. The fishermen used to pretend to cast their nets to take the fish that then abounded on our coasts, but their fishing was of a very different kind."

Formby, on the Lancashire side, was a great place for smugglers. I don’t think they wrecked as the Cheshire people did, these latter were very fiends. The Formby fishermen were pretty honest and hard-working and could always make a good living by their calling, so that the smuggling that they did was nothing to be compared to their Cheshire compatriots? The fishermen of Hoylake were always ready to board either in-bound or out-bound vessels from which they could obtain excisable articles for the purpose of ‘running’ them. The story may be truth or myth, that a parson, once minister to the old church ‘at Wallasey’, was as much addicted to wrecking as any of his congregation, and who would cry from his pulpit when news of a wreck was brought during service time: "Now, friends, wait till I get down from my pulpit and doff my gown, and then we all start fair", and he would head the stampede across the sandhills.

To show the truth of what Stonehouse says, the description of the fate of the schooner Mary Betsy which sailed from Wexford on 24th October 1820, will suffice.

On Wednesday the 26th, they picked up a Liverpool pilot, and by 4 p.m. a dreadful gale had sprung up. Two hours later the vessel struck on a bank, beat off and drifted ashore. The crew endeavoured to launch the boat but failed, so took to the rigging where they remained about five and a half hours drenched by every sea. Cullen, one of the crew, said, I do not know how I held on as I was quite unconscious; hearing a noise below I looked down and saw a large crowd of one hundred or more people with horses and carts. It was just at break of day at a place called Mockbeggar.’ (Leasowe). He goes on to tell how two carpenters working at Mrs Bodee’s (Mrs Boode; Leasowe Castle) took him in a cart to the lodge where restoratives were applied and he received every kindness. The captain (Thomas Lambert) and four of the crew who were drowned were buried in Wallasey Churchyard. No humanity was shown by anyone on that shore but by Mrs Bodee and her servants and the two carpenters. The pigs with which the vessel was loaded were scattered up and down the district, some of them alive. The wreckers completely stripped the vessel, leaving nothing but the standing rigging and the masts, but as one informed of another, dreading the strong arm of the law, a great deal of the plunder was restored.

A grave or pit discovered during the building of New Brighton Palace (Fairground) revealed evidence that it had been used by smugglers and wreckers for the purpose of concealing their goods, and that it was also possibly the scene of even graver transactions; for the workmen engaged, on reaching the pit, were completely overcome by the sickening stench emanating from it, and only by the use of enormous quantities of disinfectants could the work of removing the contents, whatever they were, be carried on. Old residents in the neighbourhood are firm in the belief that the contents represented human remains, and there certainly has not been advanced any evidence to the contrary.

Speaking of much more recent times than 1820, Lucas P. Stubbs says: ‘In spite of the activity of the local coastguards in later years, many of the residents of Wallasey, if a wreck occurred in the night from which merchandise was washed ashore, were ready to assert “seeking’s finding and finding’s keeping.” It is doubtless true that many cases of hams, sides of bacon, casks of rum, sugar, molasses, etc., and even cases of silk, have been found washed ashore in the night-time, and such have occasionally found lodgement in certain cottages or been carried and hidden in the sandhills in the hope of being removed later by those who had hidden them.’. A master builder of Wallasey once told the writer that his workmen had had an unexpected treat from a barrel of grapes, found on the shore, which had been rolled in the night to a house then in course of erection. It is a fact, too, that a certain sandhill was years ago discovered to be covered with sugar. A hogshead of sugar washed ashore had been rolled by the populace to this point and then broken up. The sugar hill was much frequented by children who put the mixture of sugar and sand into their mouths, sucked the sugar, and spat the sand.

The scenes that followed the wreck of the brig Elizabeth Buckham on 26th November 1866 have been graphically described by Mr Bertram Furniss: ‘She went ashore and broke up before assistance could be rendered. Laden with rum and coconuts which floated ashore and were soon taken possession of by inhabitants. On the shore casks of rum were broached; some carried the spirit to their houses, others drank it on the spot, fights ensued, and the whole police force of Wallasey (five in number), was quite inadequate to cope with the tumult. Towards evening they were fully occupied lifting the sleeping carousers to a safe place above high-water mark to prevent their being drowned by the rising tide. At least two deaths occurred, one “the boots” at the Victoria Hotel. At the inquest Coroner Churton referred to the prayer at the head of this chapter and added that on one occasion, when a wreck was reported while the congregation at Old St Hilary was listening to the sermon, the rector said to those who were moving prematurely towards the door, “Keep your seats till after the collection and then we can all start fair”. A slight variation only on the tale related earlier.

No bodies came ashore from the wreck, nor did any of her timbers for several months after. Her log-book floated ashore at Wallasey which proved her to be the brig Elizabeth Buckham, 242 tons register, built at Whitehaven in 1839, owned by Mr J. Thompson of that place and commanded by Captain T. Wylie. Before the tax on salt was removed in 1825 large quantities of it were smuggled.

There are strange stories extant of boats clustering round the salt flats when they arrived in the open estuary. These boats took away a few tons of salt to be replaced by river water. This salt thus surreptitiously obtained was landed on the Lancashire and Cheshire coasts where it was readily sold to customers at a comparatively cheap rate. Immense quantities of salt were then smuggled and there is no doubt that large fortunes were made by this illegal trading. The object of shipping the river water was to make weight; every flat load previous to leaving the works was carefully weighed and the contents registered. On the arrival of the flats in Liverpool if the weight was deficient the duty had to he paid on the deficiency, and if the weight was over, the duty had to be paid on the surplus.

It was necessary evidently to try to prevent this illicit trade and in the parish register under the date 1753 we find recorded the burial of Christopher Bibby of Seacombe, Salt Officer. In Gore’s Directory of Liverpool for 1756 in the list of Officers of Custom, Riding Officers, appears Francis Stuart, Seacombe, and Edmund Hayworth, Rock. It was once recorded that on the wreck of a vessel laden with silk stuffs several bales were ‘wrecked’ and concealed in the cellars at Mother Redcap’s, and at a later date distributed amongst the villagers of Liscard, Wallasey and Bidston. The following summer the inhabitants all appeared in similar patterned stuffs of superior material.

Mother Redcap's about 1888. I can recall this building as a youngster in the 1960s. Sadly demolished and a Nursing home was built on the site.
My mother died there in 1999, which is why it is very poignant for me. Liverpool is on the extreme left of the painting. Seacombe Ferry behind the image on the sands.

Mother Redcaps is the black & white building on the left.

Adam’s Weekly Courant of 2 January 1757 records the wreck of the ship Cunliffe, from Virginia, laden with tobacco, etc. She took the ground on Mockbeggar Wharf; was floated off but "a violent storm" arose and drove her ashore ‘on the main’ opposite Wallasey Church, where doubtless the inhabitants gave her their unwelcome attention. We gather from Mr Kitchingman’s notes that contraband was temporarily hidden in Mother Redcap’s and surrounding grounds. The goods were removed later secretly over the moor, through or round the then small village of Liscard, along a lane (now Wallasey Road) and down the old lane, now the footpath to Bidston, right on to the Moss where the road as such ended. It was a most difficult and dangerous passage to Bidston, the only way being round by Green Lane, Wallasey, and past Leasowe Castle. Many people who attempted to cross the Moss without a guide, as late as 1830 became bog foundered and had to be rescued. The Moss, undrained till the making of the Birkenhead docks in 1844, was full of cross pools, morasses and long, winding inlets forming a kind of labyrinth. There was only one reliable but tortuous passage over it. At a dangerous place was laid a large pair of whale’s jawbones across the water, which with rude crossbeams formed of tree stems made a bridge. There were no posts or rails, and the jawbones had to be found almost by instinct. This spot was said by the superstitious to be haunted, and many persons would not cross the Moss, particularly the jaw bones, where it was said that two people had been drowned at different times and haunted the spot. The superstition was fostered and spread by the smugglers, and the place was for years afterward known as the ‘jaw bones’ They were to be seen in 1840, but soon afterwards decayed and felt into the Moss.

After crossing the jaw bones’ a track led to the left towards Wallasey Pool to an old farm afterwards known as ‘Hannah Mutche’s Farm’, situated at the east end of the Moss and surrounded by a moat. This old farm was the haunt of the contrabandists and a noted hiding-place from the Press-gang, the sailors escaping there from Mother Redcap’s. It is thought by some that the old Moss holds forgotten money and valuables. From the ‘jaw bones’ (which was a kind of marshalling place) in a southerly direction, a track led towards Bidston along which contraband was taken sometimes and delivered at the ‘Ring-o’ Bells’ at Bidston, where there were places of concealment in the farm buildings. The farm to the west of Bidston Church was formerly the Ring-o’-Bells Inn.

If it were reported at the "jaw bones" or on the Bidston side of the Moss that it was not safe to proceed to Bidston, the contraband was diverted to the westward along the edge of the Moss and taken to the old Saughall windmill. This was a most remarkable structure, built of wood with strong oak beams and gaunt, primitive sails standing on a rough base of stone, with a large wheel on the ground for turning the mill round. The mill stood entirely by itself, a little way from the edge of the Moss but a full mile away from the village of Saughall Massie. Secret meetings of various kinds, political and otherwise, were held in this old mill, which was the home of numerous ravens and said to be haunted. It was repaired and in use, and is shown in the Ordnance Map of 1840, but shortly after was demolished and later still a large house built on the site.

From Bidston a packhorse track continued in a southerly direction under the skirt of Bidston Hill and Wood to Noctorum, then southward along a narrow, packhorse road (too narrow for carts) and along a rough stone causeway, the stones of which are still to be seen for half a mile between Prenton and Storeton. Another hiding-place may have been a cave in the Yellow Noses, for the walls were profusely decorated with incised dates and initials, the earliest one being 1619. This cave had a narrow opening, which was obscured by a landslide some years before the promenade works made entry impossible. The cave was accessible from the garden of the house above, called Rock Villa. In the cavern proper is a well, which no doubt proved valuable to those who frequented it, and the air is quite fresh even at the furthest end, showing that there must be an outlet. There are several interesting stories of tricks being played by the smugglers on preventive officers but it is difficult to get authentic particulars. One is told of information being given to a preventive officer at Mother Redcap’s that two kegs of rum were about to be taken in a donkey-cart to Bidston via the Moss. As he lay in wait near Liscard, the donkey-cart came along and was pounced upon by the waiting officer, but on examination the kegs were found to contain ale which was stated to be for the ‘Ring-if-Bells’ at Bidston where a shortage had occurred. The rum had been removed from the kegs and sent on in cans by another route to be replaced in the kegs on arrival.

On another occasion a ship with tobacco on board was wrecked, and the watching officers saw two men run from the part of the wreck on the shore, along the beach northward, with two small bales as though they were about to depart for the Wallasey side. It took some time on the soft sand to overtake them, and when they were caught the packages were found to contain cabbage leaves and ferns. In the meantime their friends had made free with the real tobacco in the wreck. On another occasion one of the wreckers crept down the beach from the Moor at the north end some distance away and lay down in his clothing in the water at the edge of the receding tide. The attention of the only officer, who was ins Mother Redcap’s drinking, was called to the supposed drowned man. He ran along the sand to the body and began by taking the man’s watch and was about to rifle the pockets when the apparently drowned man sprang up and knocked him down. Meanwhile a cask of rum and some other goods had been removed from the Redcap cellar by his confederates and started on their way to the Moss. No blame was attached to the drowning man, who said he had fallen down in a fit and thought he was being robbed by some stranger. Chapter 12 "The Rise & Progress of Wallasey".

Return To Mother Redcaps - a poem by Christopher George

And it's men to your oilskins and women your shawls,
There’ll be brandy and whiskey and rum for us all!...
And what did we care if we killed two or three?
We’ll still go a-wreckin’ down at Wallasey!
"The Wallasey Wreckers" by The Wreckers

The old wreckers' inn on the shoreline,
long gone but you recall it from childhood
as you visit your mother in the home on the hill
above river: smell of an accident, urine and feces

in the fluoresced halls. Mum's every need cared
for, starched pillowcases and a starchy matron
with gold watch pinned to her blouse. All planned,
accounted for: her medication times

and supper at 6:00 pm, pills and food in plastic
compartments--all decreed, regulated, measured.
Mum's life, or what's left of it, tidied away, plotted
on charts in actuarial plats. You wonder

what happened to the parrot gabbling on your
shoulder, that lithe hilarious youth wading
in the cold tide laden with chests brimming
with spade guineas and pieces of eight.

© 2006 Christopher T. George

Printed by kind permission of author.

Leasowe Castle

Leasowe Castle on the central middle ground left

The original Leasowe Castle was built in 1593 by Ferdinando, the 5th Earl of Derby. In the following year he was awarded with the Manor of Wallasey, and in 1594 became the Mayor of Liverpool. The original purpose of the building is not known but it is likely to have been built in connection with sporting activities, possibly as a viewing area for the famous Wallasey races, the forerunners of the Derby race. The original octagonal tower was built with an entrance door five and a half feet above ground level. This would have given security and protection against flooding from the high tides, and also the ground floor would have served as a stable. The walls were built three feet in width, and a later owner, possibly William the 6th Earl of Derby constructed four turrets onto the original tower. T he Stanley family (the Earls of Derby), seem to have given up the building within a century of its construction, and it rapidly deteriorated to a ruin. Once known as The New Hall it soon became known as Mockbeggar Hall, a name commonly given to old ruined manorial halls. A chart of North Wirral, the Grenville Collins Pilot of 16SO shows the castle named as Mockbeggar Hall, and the foreshore as Mockbeggar Wharf, a name still used on today's Ordinance Survey Maps. The castle passed through several families until bought in 1802 by Mrs Boode. Her daughter Mary Anne married Colonel Edward Cust in 1821 and the castle remained in the Cust family until 1895. Edward Cust, the 6th son of Lord Brownlow, tried initially to run the castle as a hotel, unsuccessful he then took up residence in 1843 and made many additions to the building. In 1911 it was bought by the Trustees of the Railway Convalescent Homes, who ran the place until 1970. It was later bought in 1974 by the Wallasey Corporation who did little with it, Wirral Borough Council eventually reselling it in 1980 to Ken Harding who opened it again as a hotel.

Leasowe Castle, with radio beacon, taken by me in May 1971 taken from Moreton Shore

Sir Edward Cust made many additions to the castle. In 1836 when the Star Chamber of the Court of Westminster was being demolished (so called because the ceiling was decorated with stars), he saved the oak panelling and used them to line the ground floor dining room. He used this room as a library but it became known as The Star Chamber. Some of the oak used for panelling came from the old submerged forest at Leasowe and Meols. Sir Edward was known as a bit of a joker and he placed an oak seat at the bottom of the castle garden overlooking the sea. He named the seat 'Canute's Chair' and had carved on the back, "sea come not hither nor wet the sole of my foot". There are some people, however, who believe that King Canute actually visited Leasowe in 1016 AD. There are no traces of the chair today. Not far from the chair were the "Mermaid Stones". These three boulders are thought to have been deposited by the glaciers from the last lce Age. They are associated with the legend of the Mermaid of the Black Rock, who is supposed to have sat upon the stones. Leasowe Castle is now a hotel and hit the news around December 2003 with a story about them sueing a soldier serving in Iraq because he got wounded and had to postpone a wedding.

Kenneth Burnley wrote in his 1981 book "Portrait of Wirral":

Do not go to Leasowe Castle expecting to see a fortress on a hill, surmounted by tall towers and surrounded by a moat. Castellations and turrets it has got, but there the likeness ends. Built in 1593 as “New Hall” by Ferdinando, fifth Earl of Derby, the castle has had a colourful history during its existence. Its original purpose is uncertain; the popular theory that Ferdinando used it as a grandstand for viewing the racing on the “leasowes” can probably be discounted, as it would appear that the racecourse was too far away to make this a worthwhile proposition. Ormerod is probably nearer the truth:

“Whatever the ostensible reason for the creation of a structure so substantial that sea air and the storms of over three centuries, in an exposed situation, have failed to affect it, it is more likely that it originated in a desire on the part of the builder to be prepared for any eventuality which the disturbed times in which he lived rendered probable.”

A stone bearing the date 1593 and the “three legs” emblem of the Isle of Man (the Earls of Derby being Kings of Man from 1407 to 1735) has been removed from the castle and is on display at the Williamson Museum and Art Gallery in Birkenhead. The castle’s present unplanned, sprawling appearance is the result of the work of its several owners who have added extra towers, wings, turrets and outbuildings. Towards the end of the seventeenth century the castle became derelict and acquired the name “Mockbeggar Hall”, a name given to any deserted or lonely building. Memories of this era of the castle’s history are still perpetuated in the “Mockbeggar Wharf”, the name given to the sands along the shore opposite the castle. After having been used as a farmhouse for a period, the Egerton’s of Oulton occupied the building and probably gave it its present name. The castle was sold in 1786 to a Robert Harrison, and again in 1802 to Margaret Boode, daughter of the Rector of Liverpool, and friend of the shipwrecked. As we have seen, in Chapter 2, Mrs Boode was tragically killed in an accident in Wallasey in 1826, and the castle passed into the care of her son-in-law, Sir Edward Cust. After unsuccessfully running the castle as an hotel, Sir Edward resided there off and on until his death in 1878. During his period of ownership, Sir Edward transformed the castle from a building into a home. He built the perimeter wall and entrance, panelled the dining room with wood from the original Star Chamber at Westminster, and fitted out the library with oak timbers from the submerged forest at Meols. He was probably responsible for “Canute’s Chair”, a huge oak seat which stood on the sea wall above high-water mark. The chair, which bore the inscription “Sea come not hither nor wet the sole of my foot”, disappeared some twenty years ago.

Then, and now - my photo taken December 2004. The name "Cust" can be made out on the left hand column

After the death of Sir Edward Cust, the property was owned by several other members of the Cust family, until it became the Leasowe Castle Hotel in 1891. It was bought by the Trustees of the Railway Convalescent Homes in 1910 and, except for a short time during the First World War when it was used to accommodate German prisoners, was occupied by retired railwaymen right up to 1970. As I write, (1981), the castle stands empty, derelict, as it did 300 years ago, a twentieth-century Mockbeggar. Only security guards walk the rooms where shipwrecked sailors were com forted. It is the castle nobody wants. Wirral Borough Council, the owners, have made ambitious plans for its future; these have been scrapped, and the castle is up for sale yet again. What does the future hold for this fascinating piece of Wirral’s, no, England’s, history? I recently visited the castle to try to capture something of its past and perhaps to glimpse its possibilities for the future. As I turned into the driveway a watery November sun bravely tried to penetrate the veil of grey cloud, and a biting easterly wind cut across the waste flats of the foreshore. The colourless afternoon gave the grey stone walls of the castle a cheerless appearance. Away from the busy Leasowe Road, it was like stepping into another world; the weather worn stone dogs keeping watch over the main gateway eyed me curiously as I passed into the castle grounds. The immediate surroundings of the castle are very bare, only a few hardy shrubs being able to survive the merciless winds and sandy soils of these parts. From the main driveway, the castle appears a hotchpotch of additions and extensions, the black and white timbering contrasting sharply with the sturdy grey stone of the main structure. The drive curves gently to the right of the castle, the main doorway being sensibly placed in the lee of the prevailing westerly winds. A massive stone lion keeps watch over the main doorway, which leads into the entrance hall. My first impression on entering this lofty hail was that of age and decay (an impression justified by my subsequent wanderings). Tiles were loose on the floor, and paint was peeling from the walls. And yet, as I stood alone within these cold stone walls, I felt a sense of grandeur. A fine stone and iron staircase takes pride of place in the entrance hall This is the renowned “Battle Staircase”, so called because of the hand painted nameplates of famous British battles set into the wrought-iron rails. Erected by Sir Edward Cust, the hand-rails also show the dates of the battles, the sovereign reigning at the time, and the generals in command of the troops. I noticed that, regrettably, some of the nameplates were missing, apparently removed by visitors.

Just inside main gate, on left hand side

My guide suddenly appeared from one of the many door ways leading off the entrance hall. We wandered down a long, dusky corridor and peeped into side rooms: kitchens, laundry rooms, showers, all once busy during the castle’s occupation as a convalescent home, but now quiet and empty. A spacious snooker room complete with table waited expectantly for the next pair of players to chalk their cues. Was I imagining it, or did I hear the click of cue against ball, ball against ball? Echoes of games past, perhaps? Doorways led to stairs; here there were bedrooms looking out across the grey waters of the Irish Sea and across the dreary Moreton plain to the Welsh hills. Everywhere the damp had penetrated; and indeed, workmen were busy making good rotting timbers where the weather had got in. A bright nursery room resounded no more to the sounds of children playing. My guide showed me an escape route hidden behind a false bookcase, a hiding place behind a huge mirror on the landing, and grim spiral stone stairways thick with cobwebs and leading down into the bowels of the castle. The daylight was beginning to fade as we neared the end of our tour; the cold which had permeated the thick stone walls had found its way into the depths of my being; and I found myself eagerly anticipating my own cosy room and fire awaiting me at home. But my guide had more in store for me yet. Like all good hosts, she had left the best till the last. Unlocking a sturdy door, we entered what must surely be the most attractive room in the castle. The “Star Chamber” was originally a dining-room and was fitted out by Sir Edward Cust with the original panelling from the Star Chamber in the Old Exchequer Buildings at Westminster. The light oak panelling in the walls sets off the exquisite ceiling of gilded stars on a pale background. Four old tapestries depicting the four seasons complete the magical effect of this room; it is sad that the original furniture is no longer here to complement these fine decorations. As I was leaving, the setting sun cast a rich, rosy glow across the room and the panelling seemed to be reflecting the flames from the roaring fires which surely burnt in the great hearth over the centuries.

December 2004

Before leaving the castle, I looked up to the alabaster bas relief on the landing, which depicts Wirral as it was in the days when “From Birkinheven unto Hilbree a squirrel might leape from tree to tree”. I pictured the castle, a haven for the ship wrecked, its rooms warm with life, a place of comfort on the deserted, wild, unfriendly Wirral coast. Will these rooms and corridors ever again hear the cosy chat of people relaxing after a day’s work? Will fires ever again flicker in the cold hearths? Will children ever again run up and down its staircases, discover its secret passages, run across its lawns? Will the laundry and shower rooms ever again run with condensation? The castle would make a fine hostel, school, nursing—home, museum, leisure centre. Its possibilities are endless. Or will it continue to decay, cold, silent, with only the ghosts of times past to walk its rooms and corridors?

Inland from Leasowe Castle, there is little to interest us. Acres of post-war housing cover the low-lying land of the north Wirral plain, with only the playing-fields of Cadbury’s extensive factory providing any relief before the outer housing of Moreton is encountered. The Henry Meoles School (formerly Wallasey Grammar School) squats on the marshy perimeter of the housing estate, looking out across a dreary landscape towards the slopes of Bidston Hill and more housing in the Fender Valley. (Even more so now, 2004, the green fields are vanishing fast under the greedy plough of modern developers).

Inscription above a door leading into part of the Castle - December 2004

December 2004

December 2004, the open doorway centre has the inscription over it, see above.

The Lodge House at the Main Gate - December 2004

Grooves can clearly be seen where the main gates would have fitted into when closed - December 2004

Fort Perch Rock

Fort Perch Rock has stood on a natural outcrop of sandstone on New Brighton beach for over 150 years yet many people know very little about this coastal defence battery. New Brighton has only existed as a town since 1830 when James Atherton first laid out the resort that he hoped would rival its southern namesake. Before the construction of New Brighton, the area was just a desolate piece of rocky and sandy foreshore leading up to fields belonging to the village of Liscard. However, close to this coastline was the Rock Channel through which all ships had to pass to enter the Port of Liverpool. In times of war this was the ideal place to erect temporary forts and batteries of cannon to protect Liverpool. Throughout the 18th century whenever England was at war batteries of cannon would be brought to the area and located on the Red Noses and on a site where Victoria Road now stands. During the Napoleonic wars, Liverpool merchants began to lobby for more permanent defences to guard Liverpool from attack. However, after the defeat of Napoleon's fleet at Trafalgar in 1805 fears subsided and nothing was done. It was not until the 1820s that the first plans for a fort were drawn up. Captain Kitson came up with plans to build a sandstone fort below the high tide level on the rocky outcrop known as the Perch Rock. The name Perch Rock came from a wooden perch built in the 1690s to warn passing ships of the danger of the sandstone rocks in their proximity. Work on the Fort was started early in 1826 and on 31st March that year the foundation stone was laid. The Fort was built of sandstone, the foundations were of local stone quarried at the Captain's Pit and on a site we now know as the Tower Grounds. The rest of the stone came from Runcorn and was brought down the river on barges. Fort Perch Rock opened on 30th April 1830 and had cost £26,965 Os. 8d. to build. The Fort was armed with sixteen 32lb. cannon which fired out to sea and two 18lb. cannon which could be used to defend the Fort from attack from the land. These cannons fired round balls of iron and used gunpowder. To store the gunpowder and ball a magazine was located in the Fort. There was also accommodation for 100 men in time of war. Throughout the 19th century the guns were continually improved in 1861, 68lb. cannon with a range of 3170 yards were installed mounted on granite sets which can still be seen inside the Fort today.

By the 1890s the Forts muzzle loading cannon were obsolete and were due for replacement. Before more modern longer ranging guns could be installed the Fort had to be remodelled. This work took place between 1894 and 1899 and included the filling in of the parade ground the installation of three mounted 6 inch guns and an observation and firing post constructed on the east tower. A large electric light was also fitted which could beam out across the estuary. The walls facing out to sea were lowered by 15 ft. giving the Fort the appearance it has today. In all of its military history Fort Perch Rock was never called upon to fire a shot in anger but a few incidents did occur. At the beginning of the First World War a Norwegian vessel which had been at sea when hostilities started did not identify itself when asked to do so by the Fort. A warning shot was fired across its bow, the shot landed on Formby beach. The ship was eventually identified as not hostile, the Captain did not know that a war had started and thought that the fort was merely practicing. The shot that landed on the beach at Formby was returned to the Fort and put on display with the inscription 'A Present From New Brighton.' The Commander of the Fort in World War II, Colonel C.J. Cocks claimed to have fired the first British shot of the War from Fort Perch Rock. A small fishing smack under sail in the Rock Channel could not be identified fifteen minutes after the War had started. A shot was fired at the boat causing panic to its crew. Luckily it was identified as friendly in time and allowed to sail into the estuary.

A common occurrence when the guns were fired at Fort Perch Rock was for the windows in shops in Victoria Road to shatter. This was because Victoria Road is on the same rock strata as the Fort and vibrations carried through. The Second World War proved the end for coastal defence batteries as air power had taken over from sea power. in 1957 the War Department put the Fort up for sale. It was bought by local business man T. Mann and T. Kershaw for F4,000 which is less than it cost to build in 1830. The Fort is currently owned by Norman Kingham and is open to the public throughout the summer and at weekends- It is well worth a visit and includes interesting artefacts such as a four seater toilet!

More information can be gained by reading Ken McCarron's book 'Fort Perch Rock and the Defence of the Mersey.'

Visit the Fort Perch Rock site for more information

The World's First Solar Powered Building

On Leasowe Road is the first building in the world to be heated entirely by solar energy. St George’s School was built in 1961 to the designs of Emslie Morgan, a “genius” who spent a lifetime looking into ways of harnessing the sun’s rays. His research resulted in the “Solar School”, a matchbox like building with, on one side a drab, windowless façade and on the other I0,000 square feet of glass, a giant solar wall. The wall is built of glass leaves two feet apart. These draw the ultra violet rays from sunshine and bounce them around the walls of the classrooms. The walls become warm and heat the air. Hardly any warmth escapes through the school’s massively thick roof and walls covered with slabs of plastic foam. On the coldest days it is always 6o degrees Fahrenheit inside, and in summer the school is cooler than its more conventional neighbours, for panels inside the glass wall can be turned to deflect heat or absorb it. It need hardly be said that, despite the uniqueness of the building at the time of its erection, it was left to foreign designers to take up the invention and use it on a world wide scale.

From the book Portrait of Wirral by Kenneth Burnley 1981.

New Brighton Lighthouse - New Brighton Tower

Penny Bridge, Leading to Birkenhead

Leasowe Lighthouse, the oldest in England, built in 1763 with 660,000 handmade bricks.
The next 5 images, like the above, were all taken on 12 February 2004