Recollections of a Busy Life: Being the Reminiscences of a Liverpool Merchant 1840-1910

A Nemesis seemed to follow this violent outburst of speculation, and but few houses actively engaged in it survived very long.

Liverpool was also active in assisting the south to build and fit out vessels of war to prey upon American commerce. The "Alabama" was built at Birkenhead; she sailed away to a remote island and there took on board her armament. She and her sister ship, the "Shenandoah," did immense damage to American shipping, for which England had in the end to pay, as by the Geneva arbitration she was held responsible for allowing the "Alabama" to be built and escape.

American shipping has never recovered from this blow, but it is only fair to say that the cost of shipbuilding in America, by reason of her prohibitive tariffs, has mainly prevented her resuming her former position on the ocean.

The Southern Bazaar

Near the close of the war a huge bazaar was held in St. George's Hall, in aid of the southern prisoners of war. It was designated the Southern Bazaar, and the stalls were called after the various states, and were presided over by the leading ladies of the town, assisted by many of the nobility and society people. It was a brilliant success, money was plentiful, and men and women vied with each other in scattering it about. Upwards of £30,000 was realised in the three days.

The Volunteer Movement

No account of the doings in Liverpool in the 'sixties would be complete that did not describe the beginnings of the great volunteer movement, which was destined to occupy so much public attention, and to form such an important portion of our national defence. Liverpool can certainly claim to have initiated the movement. Mr. Bousfield endeavoured to revive this branch of the service in 1853. A few years later he formed a drill club, a very modest beginning, consisting of only 100 men, wearing as their uniform a cap and shell jacket. Captain Bousfield endeavoured several times to obtain recognition by the Government, but failed; and he had to encounter a considerable amount of chaff and ridicule. The public had but little sympathy with the young men who "played at being soldiers." Captain Bousfield was not discouraged, he loved soldiering and was an enthusiast, and his opportunity was soon to arrive. In 1859 the Emperor Napoleon III. became very threatening in his words and ways, and it was apprehended that he might attempt to invade our shores. Captain Bousfield quickly obtained the support of the Government for his volunteers, and the 1st Lancashire Volunteer Regiment was formed. The movement made rapid headway, until we had enrolled in the country upwards of 300,000 men. Colonel Bousfield soon obtained the command of a battalion, and in 1860 was presented with a sword of honour and a purse of £1,800. Liverpool furnished her full quota of volunteers. Colonel Brown commanded a regiment of artillery: Colonel Tilney the 5th Lancashire, a crack regiment; Colonel MacCorquodale the Press Guards; Colonel Bourne, with Major Melly and Captain Hornby (afterwards Colonel H. H. Hornby), the 1st Lancashire Artillery; Colonel MacIver commanded 1,000 of his own men; and among other active volunteers at this time we remember Colonel Steble, Colonel Macfie, Colonel Morrison, Colonel Clay, and many others.

We had also a squadron of cavalry, called the Liverpool Light Horse, Captain Stone in command. I joined the squadron in 1859, and greatly fancied myself mounted on one of my father's carriage horses. We exercised in some fields behind Prospect Vale, Fairfield.

I remember the 1st Lancashire being encamped on the sandhills between Waterloo and Blundellsands. It was the first time any volunteers had been under canvas, and the camp was visited by crowds of people.

Intellectual Life

Liverpool has been always too much absorbed in her commerce to take any prominent position in the world of literature and education, until recent years, when we have atoned in some degree for our remissness in the past, by the founding of our University. Professor Ramsay Muir, in a recent speech, however, claims that we had a Renaissance in Liverpool in the early years of the 19th century, when a group of thinkers, scholars, and writers, finding its centre in William Roscoe, gave to Liverpool a position and a name in the literary world, and she became a real seat of literary activity. To that remarkable man, William Roscoe, we owe the Athenæum, the Literary and Philosophical Society, and the Roscoe collection of pictures now in the Walker Art Gallery. This intellectual effort quickly lost its vitality, and for long years the Literary and Philosophical Society, and the Philomathic Society, struggled alone to keep burning the light of higher culture and literary activity.

Elementary education was almost entirely in the hands of the Church; middle class education depended upon the Liverpool Collegiate, the Mechanic's Institute, afterwards the Liverpool Institute, and the Royal Institution.

The fashion of sending boys to our great public schools did not set in until the 'seventies.

Such was the condition of intellectual life when, in 1880, the Liverpool University College was established, mainly through the efforts of the late Earl of Derby, William Rathbone, Christopher Bushell, E. K. Muspratt, David Jardine, Sir Edward Lawrence, Robert Gladstone, Mr. Muspratt, Sir John Brunner, John Rankin, and William Johnston. The first Principal, Dr. Rendall, rendered excellent service in these early struggling years, which were happily followed by still greater and even more successful efforts under Vice-Chancellor Dale, resulting in the granting of a Royal Charter in 1903, and the founding of a University. The Earl of Derby became Chancellor, and Dr. Dale Vice-Chancellor. The University has been nobly and generously supported by Liverpool men; indeed a reference to the calendar fills me with surprise that so much could have been accomplished within such a brief period. Its work is making itself felt in the general uplifting of the level of education, while the presence in Liverpool of such a distinguished body of professors has had considerable influence in giving a higher and more intellectual tone to society, and in opening up new avenues for thought and activity.

We must not omit to record the excellent work done by the School Board. When first established in 1873, the election of members provoked much sectarian animosity, but in the course of time, through the exertions of Mr. Christopher Bushell and Mr. Sam Rathbone, this hindrance to its success was overcome, and the excellence of its organisation was generally recognised. Its functions have, during the past few years, been transferred to the City Council.

One of the results of the School Board was the founding of the Council of Education, which provided, in the shape of scholarships, the means by which boys could advance from the elementary school to the higher grade schools and the universities. Mr. Sam Rathbone, Mr. Gilmour, and Mr. Bushell were very active in promoting this association.

Society in Liverpool

Society was much more exclusive forty or fifty years ago than it is to-day. The old Liverpool families were looked up to with much respect.

The American war considerably disturbed Liverpool society, and brought to the front many new people. Liverpool became more cosmopolitan and democratic, but there was no serious departure from the old-world courtesy of manner and decorum in dress until the 'eighties, when it gradually became fashionable to be less exacting in dress, and the customs of society grew less conventional.

In the 'sixties people of wealth and position surrounded themselves with certain attributes of power and wealth, which gave to the populace some indication of their rank and their social status, and in manners they were reserved and dignified.

Their homes were in the country or in the fashionable suburbs of the city, and their importance was measured by the extent of their broad acres. A house in London, in which they dwelt for three or four months of the year, was the luxury only of the older families, or of those of great wealth; the fashion of having a flat in London, with a week-end cottage in the country, was not known – this has followed the more democratic tendencies of our times. The bringing of people together in our railway trains, in steamers, in hotel lounges, and foreign travel, have had a distinctly levelling influence. In the 'sixties some old county families still made their annual pilgrimage to visit their friends in the family coach, and the circle of their acquaintances was limited and exclusive. The family carriage with the rumble at the back was a dignified and well-turned-out equipage. The dress carriage, with powdered footmen, was commonly seen in Hyde Park, and was de rigeur at Court drawing rooms, then held in the afternoon; the array of carriages at these functions made a splendid show.

Motors may have the charm of convenience and speed, but can never replace the smart appearance of the well-turned-out carriage-and-pair.

The 'sixties were the days of crinoline and poke bonnets, and although the wearing of crinoline was much ridiculed, ladies' dress in those days was much more becoming and graceful than many of our more recent fashions, and girls have never looked more fascinating than when they wore their pretty little bonnets; but perhaps I may be called old-fashioned; as we grow older our view points change. We had many old maids in those days – we have none now – and the old ladies with their hair worn in dainty curls surmounted by a lace cap were picturesque, and looked their part.

The Wellington rooms, which were opened in 1814, were regarded as the centre of fashionable society.

These rooms, which are only used five times in each year, are unique in their exquisite proportions and their charming Adams' decorations unspoiled by the modern painter and decorator. The floor of the large ballroom is celebrated for its spring, being, it is stated, suspended by chains.

Admission to the rooms was carefully safeguarded, its members belonging almost exclusively to the families of position and standing. The balls were conducted on the strictest lines of propriety, carefully enforced by vigilant stewards, who would not admit of any rough dancing; and such a thing as kitchen lancers would not have been tolerated. Six or seven balls were given each year. The first before Christmas was often called the dirty-frock ball, as new frocks were reserved for the débutantes' ball, the first ball of the season. No supper was given, only very light and indifferent refreshments. The attendance gradually fell away, and it was felt that the time had arrived when something should be done to revive their interest. Accordingly, about 1890, during my presidency, the supper room was enlarged, electric light was introduced, and a supper with champagne provided, and in order to meet the extra expense the balls were cut down to five. These changes were very successful in increasing the attendance. There were great misgivings as to the introduction of the electric light, and its effect upon the complexions of the ladies. The old form of illumination by wax candles suffused a very soft light, but the candles were unreliable and often did damage to ladies' dresses.

In the 'sixties the only out-door games played were cricket and croquet. One of the most striking developments of modern days is the time now devoted to games, especially to golf and lawn tennis. In the 'sixties the facilities for getting about were very limited. The public conveyances consisted of a few four-horse 'buses, which started from Castle Street. To-day the bicycle and the motor-car bridge over distances with rapidity and little fatigue, and make us familiar with the beauties of our country, which was in old days impossible, while the electric tram carries the working man to his game at football or to his cottage in the suburbs. All this is a great gain, adding new interests to life, and is also very conducive to health and happiness.

The conditions of life during the past fifty years in every grade of society have greatly improved; they are brighter, healthier and happier.

There has been a decrease in the consumption of alcohol, less intemperance, and a striking diminution in crime and pauperism. With an increase of over fifty per cent. in the population there is less crime.

While the necessaries of life have not increased in cost, wages are from twenty-five to fifty per cent. higher, and the working classes no longer live in damp cellars or in dark courts and alleys, but have at their disposal cheerful, sanitary, and convenient homes.

CHAPTER IV.

BUSINESS LIFE

On my return home from Australia and South America I entered my father's office. It was noted for hard work and late hours. The principals seldom left for home before seven and eight in the evening, and on Friday nights, when we wrote our cotton circular, and despatched our American mail, it was usually eleven o'clock before we were able to get away, and many of the juniors had to work all night. In those days everything was done by correspondence, and mail letters often ran to a great length, frequently ten and twelve pages; and unfortunately the principals wasted much of their time in the middle of the day. The morning's work always commenced with reading the letters aloud by the head clerk, and afterwards the principals gave instructions as to replies to be sent, and laid out the work for the day.

In those times the business of a merchant's office was much more laborious, and the risks they ran were greater and longer than they are to-day, when we have the assistance of telegraphic communication with all the world. We often refer to the good old days, but they were days of much anxiety and hard work, and I doubt if the profits were as large; the risks were certainly much greater, and added to this there was a constant recurrence of panics. We had a money panic almost every ten years, 1847, 1857, 1866, of the severity of which we to-day can form very little idea. It was not merely that the bank rate advanced to eight, nine, and even ten per cent., but it was impossible to get money at any price. Bank bills were not discountable, and all kinds of produce became unsaleable. In addition to these great panics we had frequent small panics of a very alarming character. I well remember the panics of 1857 and 1866; the intense anxiety and the impossibility of converting either bills or produce into cash.

The main cause of all these troubles was that the banks kept too small reserves, and the provisions of the Bank Charter Act of Sir Robert Peel were too rigid. The object of the Act was to secure the convertibility of the bank note into gold, and it would no doubt have worked well had sufficient reserves been kept, but practically the only reserve of gold was in the Bank of England, and this was frequently allowed to fall as low as five or six million in notes. All other institutions, both banks and discount houses, depended upon this reserve, and employed their entire resources, relying upon discounting with the Bank of England in an emergency. This emergency arose about every ten years. The Bank of England was unable to meet the demand – a panic took place, and the bank had to apply to the Government to suspend the Bank Act, and allow it to issue bank notes in excess of the amount allowed by the Act. All this took time, the suspense was terrible, and many banks and honest traders were cruelly ruined. Immediately the Act was suspended the panic disappeared as if by magic, and traders began to breathe freely again.

Happily far larger reserves are now held by all banks, and banking business is also conducted on more prudent lines, and trade generally is worked on a sounder basis; payment by bills is now the exception; margins and frequent settlements on our produce exchanges prevent undue speculation, and the system of arbitration now universal has put a stop to the constant litigation which was a frequent cause of contention and trouble and loss of valuable time.

I was admitted a partner in my father's firm on the 1st January, 1862. The previous year had been a very successful one. My brother Arthur had visited America, and believing that war between the North and South was inevitable, had bought cotton very heavily, upon which the firm realised handsome profits. But it was at the expense of my father's health; the anxiety was too much for him, and this, coupled with my mother's death on the 1st August, 1861, so prostrated him, that he was ordered to take a sea voyage, and it was arranged that I should accompany him.

Voyage in the "Great Eastern."

On the 7th September, 1861, we embarked on board the steamer "Great Eastern," for New York, the Liverpool dock walls being lined with people to see the great ship start. She was far and away the largest vessel built up to that time, being 679 feet long, 83 feet beam, 48 feet deep, with a tonnage of 18,915; she was propelled by two sets of engines, paddle and screw. It was a memorable voyage. Three days out we encountered a heavy gale, which carried away our boats, then our paddle wheels. Finally our rudder broke, and the huge ship fell helplessly into the trough of the sea. Here we remained for three days, rolling so heavily that everything moveable broke adrift, the saloon was wrecked, and all the deck fittings broke loose. Two swans and a cow were precipitated into the saloon through the broken skylights. The cables broke adrift, and swaying to and fro burst through the plating on one side of the ship. The captain lost all control of his crew, and the condition of things was rendered still more alarming by the men breaking into the storerooms and becoming intoxicated. Some of the passengers were enrolled as guards; we wore a white handkerchief tied round our arms, and patrolled the ship in watches for so many hours each day.

My father was badly cut in the face and head by being thrown into a mirror in the saloon, during a heavy lurch. I never knew a ship to roll so heavily, and her rolls to windward were not only remarkable but very dangerous, as the seas broke over her, shaking her from stem to stern, the noise reverberating through the vessel like thunder. We remained in this alarming condition three days, when chains were fixed to our rudder head and we were able with our screw-engines to get back to Queenstown. My father returned home, not caring to venture to sea again, but I embarked on board the "City of Washington," of the Inman Line, and after a sixteen-day passage arrived in New York.

An amusing incident occurred during the height of the storm we experienced in the "Great Eastern." We were rolling heavily, the condition of the great ship was serious and much alarm was naturally felt. At this juncture a small brig appeared in sight under close-reefed sails. As she rode over the big seas like a bird without taking any water on board, we could not help contrasting her seaworthiness with the condition of our giant ship, which lay like a log at the mercy of the waves. The brig seeing our position bore down upon us and came within hailing distance. My father instructed Captain Walker, of the "Great Eastern," to enquire if she would stand by us, and to offer her master £100 per day if he would do so, but no answer came. The little vessel sailed round us again and again, and the next time she came within hailing distance my father authorised Captain Walker to say he would charter the ship, or if necessary buy her, so anxious was he that she should not leave us. She continued to remain near us all day, and then the weather moderating she sailed away on her voyage. Two years afterwards the captain of the brig called at the office, saying he had been told by a passenger that Mr. Forwood had offered him £100 per day for standing by the "Great Eastern," and claiming £200, two days' charter money. I need not say he was not paid, but I think my father made him a present.

Arrested in New York in 1861

On my arrival in New York I was arrested, searched, and confined in the Metropolitan Police Station while communications passed with Washington. On my demanding to be informed of the reason of my detention, the Chief of Police told me that an Englishman had been hanged by President Jackson for less than I had done; this was not very cheerful, and he added he expected orders to send me to Fort Lafayette – the place where political prisoners were detained – but he declined to give any reason. I was however released the following day, but kept under the surveillance of the police, which became so intolerable that I went to Canada, and returned home through New Brunswick to Halifax. The journey from Quebec over the frozen lake Temiscuata, through Fredericton to St. John's, was made on sleighs. I slept one night in the hut of a trapper, another at a log hut on a portage where I was detained for a day by a snowstorm. An amusing incident happened on this journey. At Grand Falls I was called upon by the Mayor, who wished, he said, to show me some attention and prove his loyalty to the old country, as he understood I was an envoy going from the Southern States to England. I told him he was mistaken, but he would not accept my denial, and insisted on driving me part of the way in his own magnificently appointed sleigh, and giving me a supper at a place called Tobique. At Halifax another incident befel me. The hotel in which I stayed was burnt down in the night. I escaped with my luggage, but none too soon, for the hotel was only a wooden erection and the fire very quickly destroyed it.

On our arrival home at Queenstown, we heard with great sorrow of the death of the Prince Albert, and of the probability of war between England and America, arising out of the "Trent" affair. I received a communication from the War Office, requesting me to send full notes of my journey across New Brunswick, giving approximately the size of the villages and farm buildings I observed, as it was proposed to march 10,000 British troops up by this route to protect Canada.

The reason of my arrest in New York was, I learned, that the authorities believed that I was conveying despatches and money and intended to cross the military lines and enter the Southern States. My father's firm being largely engaged in business with the South, there was some foundation for this impression. I should add that I received through Secretary Seward an expression of President Lincoln's regret that I should have been subjected to arrest, and an intimation that if I visited Washington he would be glad to see me, but I was then in Canada and did not care to return to the United States.

Political feeling ran very high in New York. I was passing one afternoon the St. Nicholas Hotel, Broadway, when I heard someone call out "Sesesh" (which meant a Southerner), and a man fell, shot down almost at my feet.

Leech, Harrison and Forwood

The business of the firm of Leech, Harrison and Forwood was mainly that of commission merchants, and receiving cotton and other produce for sale on consignment. It was an old firm with the best of credit, and a good reputation. The business was large but very safe, and we never speculated. I was very proud of the old concern. The business was founded in 1785 by Mr. Leech, who took into partnership Mr. James Harrison, whom I remember as a cadaverous looking old gentleman with a wooden leg, and as he always wore a white cravat his nickname of "Death's Head and a Mop Stick" was not inappropriate. He retired about 1850.

Shortly after I was admitted a partner my father's health became indifferent, and at his wish we bought him out of the firm and took over the business. We decided to also become steamship owners, and by arrangement with a firm in Hartlepool we became the managing owners of several steamers, which we put into the West Indian trade in opposition to Mr. Alfred Holt. We had not been very long in the trade before the principal shippers, Imrie and Tomlinson and Alex. Duranty and Co., also formed a line of steamers, and it seemed at the moment as if we must be crushed out of the trade, the opposition was so formidable; but with the dogged determination so characteristic of my brother Arthur we persevered, and in the end forced both our competitors to join us. We then formed a large company, the West Indian and Pacific Co., which was an amalgamation of the three concerns, my firm retaining the management. The business rapidly grew and separate offices had to be taken. For nine years my brother devoted his time to the management of the steamship company, leaving me to work our own business. It was a heavy responsibility for one so young. Our capital was small, and our business in cotton and in making advances upon shipping property very active, but we were well supported by our bankers, Leyland and Bullins. I was a neighbour of Mr. Geo. Arkle, the managing partner, and shall be ever grateful for the confidence he reposed in us. I remember his sending for me in 1866, telling me that we were face to face with a panic, and as he wanted us to feel comfortable we must cheque upon the bank and take up all our acceptances against shipping property. The system of banking was then very much a matter of confidence. During the whole of my business career we never gave our bankers any security. Mr. Arkle perhaps carried this principle too far. I remember his refusing to open an account for a man who was introduced to my firm by highly respectable people in America, and who had brought with him a draft on Barings for £80,000 as his capital, Mr. Arkle requiring that my brother and I should ask him to open the account as a guarantee to him that we were satisfied as to the man's character, to which he attached more value than to his capital. About the year 1870 we admitted my brother Brittain into partnership. Prior to this we opened a house in Bombay, which was managed by my old school friend, G. F. Pim, who was afterwards joined by my brother George.