Sunday 12 September 2021

East Sussex (2): Bateman's, Firle Beacon and the Long Man of Wilmington

An Exceedingly Good House, A Stroll on the Downs and a Chalk Figure of Questionable Age


East Sussex
On Wednesday we returned to Staffordshire from Liverpool. On Friday we headed south to visit my sister who lives in Heathfield, East Sussex, a 220-mile journey which should have been possible in under 4 hours but took well over five. The wonder of engineering that is the M25 demands you stop and marvel at it, then move on a little, stop and marvel again, and repeat, and repeat, and…...

The County of East Sussex
Bateman's is near Burwash, 7m NE of Heathfield, Firle Beacon & Wilmington are 13m from Heathfield in the direction of Seaford

Saturday was a major family party, my sister and partner, Peter, Lynne and I, the three members of the next generation with their spouses, and the six children they have produced between them, five of them under five. What could possibly go wrong? Actually, nothing did. The organisation was superb (thank you, Erica) and everybody behaved themselves as was appropriate to their age.

This blog is about travel, not family – they are too important for me to mess round with their privacy - so leaving Saturday with a faint if unmerited glow of patriarchal pride, let us move on to Sunday.

Bateman’s

Once all members of the younger generations had departed, Peter drove the old codgers the 6 miles to Bateman’s near the village of Burwash.

Bateman's in the Sussex Countryside

Now owned by the National Trust, Bateman’s is described as a Jacobean Wealden Mansion, Wealden being the easternmost District of East Sussex. Constructed of sandstone, with two storeys and gables above, the main eastern frontage was probably designed to be symmetrical, but whether the northern wing was built and then torn down, or never built at all is unknown.

Bateman's main (east) entrance

The house was built for John Langham, a lawyer in 1634 and fifty years later was the home of ironmaster John Britten. It later became a farmhouse and sometime in the late 18th century acquired the name ‘Bateman’s’ though nobody knows why. It was in poor condition by the end of the 19th century.

Rudyard Kipling at Bateman's

Rudyard Kipling in 1895
(Public Domain)

The house is old enough and interesting enough as it is, but it has a second claim to fame. Few become rich by writing, but occasionally a writer catches something in the public psyche and, as a by-product, the money comes pouring in. JK Rowling was such a writer at the end of the 20th century, her equivalent 100 years earlier was Rudyard Kipling.

Born in Bombay in 1865, he was educated in England and returned to India in 1883 where he worked as a journalist, wrote in his spare time and a started to create a reputation. He left India in 1889 and returned to England via Burma, Japan and North America. In London He married Caroline Balestier in 1892. They honeymooned in Japan, visited Caroline’s family in Vermont and subsequently lived there until 1896. Kipling wrote prolifically during this time including the two Jungle Books, and the Barrack Room Ballads.

Back in England the Kiplings searched for somewhere to settle down and in 1902 they bought Bateman’s. The house was in need of renovation - it had no running water upstairs and no electricity anywhere when they bought it - but they were to stay there for the rest of their lives. Rudyard Kipling died in 1936 and Caroline donated Bateman’s to the National Trust on her death three years later.

Inside Bateman's

Some rooms look more comfortable than others….

Inside Bateman's

… but all look dark as the renovations included re-staining the panelling back to its ‘original’ colour. The dark panelling of 17th and 18th century houses, at a time when the only artificial light came from candles, always seemed perverse. It is now believed that the original staining had probably been much lighter, but had darkened over time. Not knowing this, early restorers, including the Kiplings, faithfully returned the panelling to a colour that had never been intended.

Inside Bateman's

The Kiplings decorated the dining room walls with 18th century English ‘Cordoba’ leather hangings, depicting birds and foliage. Covered with silver leaf and varnished to glisten like gold, Kipling described it as ‘lovelier than our wildest dreams.’ After attempting, not particularly successfully, to recreate the original brightness and freshness in my imagination, I struggle with Kipling’s description, but tastes are forever changing.

Dining room, Bateman's

Bateman’s and The Kipling Family

The Kiplings had three children. The eldest, Josephine, was born in Vermont in 1892 and died of pneumonia in 1899.

A second daughter, Elsie, was born in February 1896, and a son, John, in August 1897. Both subsequently lived at Bateman’s with their parents, but only John’s room is currently on show.

John Kipling's room, Bateman's
John Kipling, 1915 (Public Domain)

John was 16 when the Great War broke out. He attempted to join the Royal Navy, but was rejected because of his poor eyesight. He then tried the army and was similarly rejected. Believing the war to be ‘a crusade for civilisation against barbarism,’ his father pulled some strings and John was commissioned Second-Lieutenant in the Irish Guards two days before his 17th birthday. He was killed at the Battle of Loos in September 1915. His body was not identified until 1992.

Rudyard Kipling remained a supporter of the war but became a trenchant critic of the way it was fought. In Epitaphs of the War he wrote:

"If any question why we died
Tell them, because our fathers lied."

Elsie married George Bambridge in 1924. The marriage made her mistress of Wimpole Hall, the largest house in Cambridgeshire, so she was hardly inconvenienced when her parents donated Bateman’s to the National Trust. She lived at Wimpole Hall until her death in 1976 and, having no children, bequeathed Wimpole Hall to the National Trust as well.

The Nobel Prize and the Garden

In 1907 Kipling was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. He was the first writer in English to receive this honour and remains the youngest ever recipient.

He had described Bateman’s as "a good and peaceable place" but when bought the house had substantial grounds but no garden. The Nobel Prize funded the construction of a garden.

The lily pond, Bateman's garden

The Mill

Beyond the garden is Park Mill, built in 1750 on the site of an earlier mill. The National Trust restored the building and milling machinery in the 1970s.

The restored milling machinery, Park Mill, Bateman's

But Kipling, being a practical chap, had not bothered with the mill, but installed a turbine so the mill stream could supply him with electricity.

Kipling's turbine, Park Mill, Bateman's

From the mill we walked back through the grounds to the car park.

Bateman's and surrounding grounds

Kipling in Burwash

Peter drove us up to nearby Burwash, where Mr Kipling can be found warming a bench beside the High Street. He looked away from Lynne when she set next to him, but it was not rudeness, he just has a stiff neck.

Lynne and Rudyard Kipling, Burwash

When our daughter saw the picture, she said ‘I hope you told him to stop writing that terrible doggerel.’ Our daughter’s MA in Literature Studies convincingly outranks my qualifications for discussing poetry, but nonetheless I would (nervously) claim Kipling was a first-rate versifier, not a writer of doggerel.

As the ‘Poet of Empire’ Kipling ought to be out of fashion, but he isn't. His novels are in print, his stories are desecrated by the Disney Corporation and If is regularly voted the ‘nation’s favourite poem.’ He may have been a colonialist, it was intellectually impossible for an Englishman (indeed any European) of his time not to have been, but his colonial attitudes were always tempered by humanity and we should not blame him for the date of his birth. Popularity can be fleeting, but any writer being read 85 years after their death, is more than just ‘popular’. All right, I will come clean, for all his faults, I am a closet fan – well I was, now everyone knows.

When we, quite literally, took the road to Mandalay I wrote a post on his poem Mandalay (Click here for that post). The poem is ill-served by the familiar song simplifying and distorting Kipling’s intentions, but I admit that there is much wrong with it. Kipling’s geography is woeful and several lines sound impressive but mean little, but other lines are simply a pleasure to hear, and some say so much more and say it so eloquently.

From Burwash we returned to Heathfield for lunch, one of Erica’s fresh and innovative salads which I liked very much.

Later Peter drove us south to Firle Beacon.

Firle Beacon

Wealden

My last visit to the South Downs, was in 1962 - I was eleven and at Scout Camp. The Downs, with their long and regular wave-like shape were, I decided, rollers from the English Channel that had continued onto land. I remember us scrambling up the sides and running along the top like we were on the roof of the world, though they typically rise to only about 200m. Were we young enough to then roll down to the bottom?

Firle Beacon, 15km north east of Eastbourne and within the relatively new South Downs National Park, was closer to Rudyard Kipling’s description of "Our blunt, bow-headed whale-backed Downs" than my 60-year-old memories, though not too far from either.

This time, though, we did not scramble up the side, we drove along a minor road to a car park near the top. Then, we did not run along the whale-back, we walked, at a good pace, for just over a mile to the highest point, the Beacon at 217m, and then back to the car. Nobody suggested rolling down the side.

Peter and Lynne follow Erica and me towards Firle Beacon

It was a lovely walk, gently rising on the outward leg, over short grass, springy underfoot and past several earthworks, assorted tumuli and barrows according to the OS map. The only disappointment was that the slightly misty conditions spoiled the views across the surrounding land and the sea.

A disappointing view from Firle Beacon towards Cuckmere Haven and the sea

Wilmington

Back at the car park we descended to the A27, drove 3 or 4 miles east and found our way to the village of Wilmington which faces, Windover Hill, the next but one along the line from Firle Beacon.

The Long Man of Wilmington

The chalk downs of southern England have always been irresistible to those wishing to create a landmark. The oldest, the Uffington White Horse in Oxfordshire (we visited in July 2014), is late bronze/early iron age, the most recent, the Fovent Regimental Badges, are 20th century. White horses were popular in the 18th and 19th century, but there are only two human figures (other than riders), the Cerne Abbas Giant in Dorset and the Long Man of Wilmington.

The Long Man of Wilmington

Both were believed to be ancient, but as there is no written evidence for either before the 17th century they have been reassessed. Most chalk figures consist of trenches cut in the turf and backfilled with chalk rubble. Optically stimulated luminescence testing (no, I don’t know what it is either, but I am sure it is very clever) has suggested the Cerne Abbas figure may well be over a thousand years old. The Long Man may have started as chalk rubble, but now consists of whitewashed breezeblocks (which need a bit of a clean-up) so dating is problematic. The 70m high figure, drawn to look in proportion when seen from below, may have iron age, or even Neolithic, origins but it its earliest mention was in 1710.

The best view, more distant but with more context, is from the path leading from the village.

The Long Man and the path from Wilmington village

Wilmington Priory, Parish Church and Yew Tree

Wilmington Priory was founded in the mid-11th century as an ‘alien cell’ (a small overseas off-shoot) of a Norman Benedictine Abbey. Enlarged in 1243 it became a grange for the local Benedictine held lands. Alien cells were suppressed in the 100 Years’ War and the Priory passed to Chichester Cathedral and then to the Sackville family after the Dissolution of the Monasteries. Today it is owned by the Landmark Trust and consists of a few broken down walls and a 14th-century house used as a holiday let.

Some remains of Wilmington Priory

The Church of St Mary and St Peter was built in the late 11th century as a combined Priory/Parish church. It has inevitably seen much restoration and some rebuilding in 800 years’ service to the community.

The massive yew tree outside the church is even older, dendrochronology suggesting it has been growing here for some 1,600 years old.

The 1,600 year old Wilmington yew tree

It is not looking too bad, considering.

That finished the days sight-seeing. The convivial evening involved another fine dinner, featuring duck legs - always a favourite.

East Sussex

Part 1:Bodiam and Rye (2020)
Part 2:Bateman's, Firle Beacon and the Long Man of Wilmington (2021)
Part 3: Battle and Hastings (2021)
Part 4: Rottingdean and The Devil's Dyke
Part 5: Lewes and Charleston (coming soon)

Wednesday 8 September 2021

Liverpool (3): The Mersey Ferry and the Anglican Cathedral

Celebrating the Work of Gerry Marsden and Giles Gilbert Scott

The Mersey Ferry

Liverpool

The River Mersey is formed by the confluence of the Rivers Goyt and Thame in Stockport. It is reputedly 70 miles long, but after 50 miles of serpentine twisting through urban landscapes and a straight stretch shared with the Manchester Ship Canal, it has reached Widnes, barely 25 miles from its source. Here the river becomes the Mersey Estuary.

The estuary narrows between Liverpool and Birkenhead, so this is the obvious place to build tunnels for road and rail and, before that, the obvious place for a ferry.

Lancashire, Greater Manchester and Merseyside

There has been a ferry here since at least 1150, when the monks of Birkenhead’s Benedictine Priory charged a small fee to row passengers cross the river.

With two road tunnels taking the bulk of the traffic, Mersey Ferries now operate only two vessels, the MV Royal Iris of the Mersey and MV Snowdrop. Both were built in the 1960s but were extensively refitted – and renamed - in the early 2000s.

We had tickets for a 50 minute ‘Mersey River Cruise’, and to be sure of being on the 10 o’clock sailing we joined the crowd at the Pier head early enough to see the 9.30 ferry arrive. A few people got off, most of them wheeling bicycles, a few got on and within minutes the Royal Iris set off for Birkenhead leaving the bulk of the crowd still at the Pier Head. We were all waiting for the ‘cruise’.

MV Royal Iris of the Mersey sets off for Birkenhead

The Mersey here is almost exactly a kilometre wide but Birkenhead is a little upstream, so the journey is a tad further. The Royal Iris of the Mersey was back in plenty of time to load up for the ‘cruise’. The Snowdrop seemed to be having a day off.

Cruising on the Mersey

Mersey Cruising with Gerry and the Pacemakers

The sun shone and the river was calm and almost blue as we set off, rather predictably, to the sound of Gerry and the Pacemakers 'Ferry Cross the Mersey’.

The Beatles bursting of the dam created a flood of what were then called ‘beat groups’, many of them from Liverpool (‘Merseybeat groups’). Among the leaders were Brian Epstein’s second signing as a manager, Gerry and the Pacemakers whose first three singles all went to No 1, a feat never achieved before not even by the Beatles.

As Gerry Marsden sang, we headed downstream near the Wirral bank and then returned to view the Liverpool waterfront, staring straight into the morning sun.

The Wirral side of the Mersey

Their first two singles (released in March and May 1963) were pieces of fluff, cheerful upbeat tunes but with a hook so barbed that once it had encountered a twelve-year-old ear it could embed itself for the next 59 years (and counting) – I write from experience.

Their third in October 1963 brought a change of direction; You’ll Never Walk Alone came from Rogers and Hammerstein’s 1945 musical Carousel. Few would claim that Gerry Marsden had a great voice and You’ll Never Walk Alone had already been recorded by several more accomplished singers, including Frank Sinatra and Elvis Presley, but he brought his own personality and background to the song, and that made it about Liverpool. (YouTube Video) The city was then still walking through a storm as the docks that had once brought wealth endured their long, slow death. Liverpudlians pride themselves on standing by one another against those they believe have wronged them (and have ferociously long memories about who that is) and they enjoy a little mawkish sentimentality.

The Liverpool waterfront
Club Crest1
Shankly Gates, Anfield2

The song was immediately adopted by Liverpool Football Club and it has been played on the public address and sung by the crowd at every home game since 1963. The song title sits atop the club crest and the Shankly Gates at Anfield stadium, but the title refers not just to the song, but to the Gerry and the Pacemakers recording of it.

Back almost at our starting point, we headed up stream and across river to stop briefly at the Birkenhead ferry terminal and then continued up the rather industrial Birkenhead side to the Tranmere Docks.

Birkenhead Ferry Pier
The obelisk on the waterfront is a ventilation tower for the Mersey Tunnel directly below

You’ll Never Walk Alone was their third and final UK No. 1, though there would be 3 more UK top ten hits in 1964 (and 3 in the USA). The last of these was the title song from the film Ferry Cross the Mersey intended to rival The Beatle’s Hard Day’s Night. It did well enough for a film of its type.

Scenic Tranmere docks, Mersey Cruise

The song (Top of Tops Video on You Tube) has a simple tune with lyrics that might suggest a downbeat lack of ambition:

Life goes on day after day
Hearts torn in every way

So ferry, cross the Mersey
'Cause this land's the place I love
And here I'll stay

The song was the group's last significant UK or US hit. The Beatles were able to develop their music which became more sophisticated as their fan base grew up. Gerry and the Pacemakers did not, or could not. It took a couple of years for the charm to wear off, then they were gone. Gerry Marsden, though, carried on, appearing on children’s television and in a West End Musical and he kept touring, as a solo artist or as ‘Gerry and the Pacemakers’ with various line-ups in ’oldies tours’.

Turning round, Mersey Cruise

He had a heart bypass operation in 2003 and another heart op in 2016. He retired in November 2018, and died of heart problems in January 2021 at Arrowe Park Hospital on Merseyside, aged 78. He died just 8 miles as the crow flies from where he was born.  When he sang ‘and here I’ll stay’ he meant it, though he had moved ‘Cross the Mersey’ from the deprived area of his childhood to more affluent surroundings. (We will overlook his other home in Spain - the weather on Merseyside is not always as fine as they day of our cruise)

Coming to the end of the cruise

After a final glide past Liverpool’s two cathedrals, we were back at the Pier Head.

Liverpool's Cathedrals, the circular Catholic Cathedral and the enormous Anglican Cathedral

The Pier Head to the Anglican Cathedral

According to Google, the Pier Head to the Anglican cathedral is a 25-minute walk mostly along Duke Street. Unfortunately, we chose to walk via Park Lane and St James Street which looked a reasonable alternative on the paper map we had picked up in the hotel.

The gently rising Park Lane took us past the distinctive Gustav Adolf Scandinavian Church. An example of late Gothic Revival, it was built 1883/4 to serve Scandinavian seaman and migrants in transit to North America. The church is still active and part of a broader Nordic Cultural Centre. If you wish to attend a Lutheran church service, eat a sandwich without its top or indulge in conversational Swedish, Norwegian or even Finnish this is the place to go.

Gustav Adolf Scandinavian Church, Liverpool

At the top of St James is the Wedding House, a ‘one-stop shop for those planning their big day’. An earlier piece of Gothic Revival, it was built for the North and South Wales Bank which opened here, and not in Wales, in 1836. Despite its location it successfully developed a network of branches on both sides of the border before becoming part of the Midland Bank (now part of HSBC) in 1908.

The Wedding House, Liverpool

Looking towards the Cathedral from outside the Wedding House we realised we had picked the wrong route. The road to the left slants the wrong way, but the only access to the Cathedral is at its far end so that was where we had to go. This added the best part of 500m to our walk, had it been raining we would have been annoyed, but as we were strolling in pleasant sunshine it mattered little.

Liverpool Cathedral

As a bonus our route now took us past the entrance to Liverpool’s Chinatown. Liverpool may not have the largest Chinatown, but it does claim the oldest Chinese community in Europe and the tallest Paifang. Chinese seamen started to settle around the docks in the 1860s and estimates suggest there are over 7,000 Liverpudlians of full Chinese descent making them the city's largest ethnic group of non-European origin. There are thought to be another 25-35,000 people of mixed Chinese descent.

Paifang across Nelson Street, Liverpool

Liverpool Anglican Cathedral

The industrial revolution (1760-1840) changed England’s demographic landscape. Small market towns, mainly in the north and midlands, sucked in the population from the surrounding countryside as England turned from an agrarian to an urban society in a couple of generations.  The authorities reacted slowly, few of the new metropolises had parliamentary representation until the middle of the 19th century and none had city status.

But change was inevitable. In 1880, Liverpool, with the population already over 600,000 was made a city, followed by Birmingham, Bradford, Leeds and others.

Bishop Ryle3
Splendid Beard

The creation of new cities broke the historic convention that cities were just towns with bishops and cathedrals, but these changes also meant the Church of England needed more dioceses. In the same year as Liverpool became a city, John Ryle became the first Anglican bishop of Liverpool, but he was not Liverpool’s first bishop. After almost 300 years absence, the Roman Catholic church had re-established its dioceses in 1850, and with its large Irish Catholic population, Liverpool was among the first catholic dioceses. In 1880 Liverpool had two bishops and no cathedrals.

The earliest plans of the Catholics ran into financial difficulties, the C of E produced an unworkable plan, then wondered if they needed a cathedral at all. The 20th century dawned and nothing had changed except the Catholic bishop was now a cathederalless archbishop.

In 1901 the C of E found a site and organised a competition to design their new cathedral, It was won by the 26-year-old Giles Gilbert Scott, the 3rd generation of the Gilbert Scott architectural dynasty and the man who later designed the red phone box (I refuse to call them, or anything else, ‘iconic’.) The design was grandiose, work started in 1906 and progressed slowly, halting during World War I.

Inside Liverpool Cathedral

Between the wars the Catholics set to work on an ambitious design by Sir Edwin Lutyens and the C of E continued doggedly with Gilbert Scott’s design. Ironically Lutyens was C of E while Gilbert Scott was Catholic. Work halted for World War II.

After the war, the Catholics dropped the Lutyens design and went back to the drawing board while the C of E laboured on, though the design was modified as money became tight.

Statues of Saints, Liverpool Cathedral

The Catholics adopted another plan in 1962 and their cathedral was completed by 1967 (we visited on Monday). Giles Gilbert Scott died in 1960 and his work was taken over by his son Richard, the cathedral eventually being dedicated in 1978. The Catholic Cathedral took 5 years, the C of E 72 years (Barcelona’s Sagrada Familia has been under construction for 138 years so far, so it was not that slow).

And was it worth the wait? Well, it is big - much bigger than the Catholic cathedral as the photo from the cruise showed. It is the largest religious building in England and the largest Anglican/Episcopalian Cathedral in the world (disputed by the unfinished Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City). At 180m long it is the longest cathedral in the world and the 5th biggest in terms of volume.

Stained glass window
I felt you and I knew you loved me by Tracey Emin

And is size important? Not really. The Catholic cathedral is innovative in design, plays with light in original ways, gives everybody a view of proceedings and is human in scale. The C of E Cathedral is just big, too big to be appreciated (or photographed) from the outside and a vast cavern inside. It is (I’m sorry) a bit ugly and the central tower is as charmless as the Mersey tunnel ventilation tower. But it does have some interesting corners, the people were nice, and the café provided a very acceptable coffee and a cake for our lunch.

Interesting corner, Liverpool Cathedral

And that lunch brought our visit to Liverpool to an end, and we returned home.

1Copyright Liverpool Football Club
2 Borrowed from Wikipedia, Photo by Andy Nugent, reproduced under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5
3Borrowed from Wikipedia, scanned from Illustrated London News (June 1900) by Tim Riley

See also

Liverpool (1): Castle Street and the Catholic Cathedral
Liverpool (2): The Waterfront, The Cavern Club and St George's Quarter
Liverpool (3): Ferry Cross the Mersey and the Anglican Cathedral

Tuesday 7 September 2021

Liverpool (2) The Waterfront, The Cavern Club and the St George's Quarter

A UNESCO Listing and How to Lose it, The Beatles, Several Statues and Some Forgotten Worthies

Liverpool Docklands

Liverpool

Liverpool docks are still worth seeing, despite losing their UNESCO World Heritage listing. Strand Street was a short walk from our hotel and we turned southeast along it and strolled in warm sunshine with the docklands to our right. The area has seen major redevelopments over the last two decades, but this was just outside the UNESCO defined zone.

Strand Street, Liverpool
One Park West (nearest camera) extends round the park and is not as oddly shaped as this angle suggests

Around the Albert Dock

Crossing Strand Street we entered the dock area, walking along the side of the 18th century Salthouse Dock and the Royal Albert Dock, its 19th century extension.

Liverpool's Anglican Cathedral across Salthouse Dock

Once the busiest and wealthiest port in the world, Liverpool docks gradually became too small as the size of ships increased until finally the unstoppable growth of containerisation brought them to a full stop in the 1970s. The vast army of dockers required to load and unload cargoes had long been dwindling and the new container port built downstream at Bootle provided far fewer jobs.

And the Catholic Cathedral

After a period of dereliction, the docklands were redeveloped in the 1980s as the city’s cultural hub and in 2004 the docklands and parts of the city centre became the ‘Maritime-Mercantile City' UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Royal Albert Dock from Salthouse Quay

Maritime and Slavery Museums

The red brick buildings on Hartley Quay, separating The Royal Albert and Canning Docks have been repurposed as a Maritime Museum and a Museum of Slavery.

We started with the Maritime Museum a large part of which was given over to a Titanic Exhibition. The Titanic may have been registered in Liverpool, the home of the White Star Line, but she was built and fitted out in Belfast and sailed from there to Southampton to begin her ill-fated maiden voyage. Lacking a substantive Liverpool link the exhibition, like local papers everywhere, attempted (sometimes desperately) to make the most of what connections there were. The leader of the band which played as the ship went down came from Liverpool (mildly interesting), the agency that recruited the band was Liverpool based (meh).

The rest of the museum failed to engage us much, disappointing given Liverpool’s long maritime history.

Figureheads, Liverpool Maritime Museum

The 'Triangular Trade' first made Liverpool wealthy. Manufactured goods were taken to west Africa where they were bartered for human beings who were transported to the Caribbean and the USA where they were enslaved and sugar and cotton were brought back to Liverpool. Although the slave trade became illegal in 1807, the sugar, cotton and other products of enslaved workers were imported from the Caribbean until 1834 and from the USA for 30 years after that.

This was explained with the appropriate hand-wringing, but the teacher in me wanted a clear narrative illuminated by appropriate exhibits and that seemed to be missing.

Liverpool Museum of Slavery

The Tate Liverpool

On the outer side of the Royal Albert Dock we had passed the Tate Liverpool, which had a Lucien Freud exhibition. Despite my half-hearted suggestion Lynne was only interested in the nearby museums, but we returned to use the Tate's café.

Girl with a Kitten was painted in 1947. The girl in question is Kathleen (Kitty) Garman, who married Freud the following year. He depicts Kitty almost strangling the kitten; however you unravel that, it is unsurprising that the marriage did not last.

Kathleen with a Kitten, Lynne with a Cappuccino, Tate Café, Liverpool

From Canning Dock to the Three Graces

Billy Fury

Looking into the bright sunlight I recognised the statue on the end of Canning Dock from the silhouette of the quiff. I must be old!

Billy Fury, Canning Dock, Liverpool

Billy Fury, one of the first to be touted as ‘Britain’s answer to Elvis Presley' (who knew Elvis was a question?) had a string of hits in the late fifties/early sixties. He had the moves, but was trying to grow out of that when four fellow Liverpudlians decisively changed the direction of popular music in 1963. His various comebacks were thwarted by heart disease, he had surgery twice in the 1970s and died of a heart attack in 1983 aged 43.

Merchant Navy Memorial

Passing under the Museum of Liverpool we encountered a memorial to those members of the Merchant Navy who died 1939-45 and have ‘no grave but the sea’.

Merchant Navy Memorial, Liverpool Waterfront

One such was my mother’s brother (my uncle, had he live long enough) an 18-year-old apprentice on the MV Silver Cedar, torpedoed off Greenland 15/10/1941. It was the return leg of his first convey.

The Three Graces

The Three Graces came into view as we emerged from under the Museum of Liverpool.

Liverpool's Three Graces

Nearest the camera is the Port of Liverpool Building. Designed by Sir Arnold Thornley in Edwardian Baroque style and completed in 1907 it was the home of the Mersey Docks and Harbour Board from 1907 until 1994 when it was sold. The top floor now consists of luxury apartments with 2,000m² of office space below.

The Italian Renaissance/Greek Revival Cunard Building was popped into the space between the other two in 1917. It was the headquarters of the Cunard Line until they decamped to Southampton in 1960. It is now owned by Liverpool City Council.

Biggest and best is the Royal Liver Building. Designed by Walter Aubrey Thomas it was completed in 1911 for the Royal Liver Assurance group. The ‘liver’ in Liverpool is pronounced like the internal organ, but the ‘liver’ in the company name, and the birds on the towers is pronounced as in ‘not-dead-er’. (Almost everyone in Britain knows this, but 80% of this blog’s visitors are not British, so it is worth pointing out). In 2011 Royal Liver merged with the Royal London Group and the building was sold. It is now owned by Corestate Capital whose tenants, including ITV and Everton Football Club.

The Liver Birds on the towers were designed by Carl Bernard Bartels. One looks out to sea, the other looks over the city. They were based on the cormorants on the city crest (see top of post) but are now more closely associated with the city than the cormorants. Should they ever fly away Liverpool would cease to exist.

The Beatles Statue

Striding towards the peer head from the direction of the Liver Building is a group of four young men. Their movement looks natural and from a distance they could be real, though in fact they are considerably larger than life-size.

The statues, installed in 2015, are the work of Stoke sculptor Andy Edwards and show the Beatles as they were in 1964, just before they set off to conquer America. They are instantly recognisable as a group and as individuals, which is important in a work of this nature.

The Beatles, Liverpool Waterfront

John has two acorns clasped in his right hand; they are small, difficult to see and impossible to photograph. After the Amsterdam bed-in following their 1969 marriage, John and Yoko sent acorns to world leaders asking them to plant a tree for peace. Alternately they are cast from acorns picked outside the Dakota building in New York where John was murdered. It is not impossible they were just irregularities in the casting it was impossible to file off.

Paul carries a cine camera, a reference to his constant cine-recording of the band – and/or to his future marriage to photographer Linda Eastman.

Paul's cine camera, Beatles' Statue, Liverpool waterfront

Ringo’s boot allegedly bears the number 8, because that is his boot size. Interesting? Not much. We could not find it, but if, as another source says it is on the sole that is not surprising. And maybe it says L8, a reference to Liverpool 8, the district where he was born

The writing on George Harrison’s belt is in Sanskrit, a refence to his interest in Indian philosophy – or possibly Bengali to commemorate his 1971 concert for Bangladesh.

George's belt, Beatles' Statue, Liverpool Waterfront

Different sources tell different stories about each Beatle, as though the ambiguities were deliberately planted.

Problems with the UNESCO World Heritage Site

Liverpool lost its UNESCO listing in 2021 over problems in the dock area. Nothing in this post so far has suggested why – but here are some photographs I did not include.

The Three Graces from beneath the Museum of Liverpool with Peer Head Building left

Three Graces first came into full view was as we emerged from beneath the Museum of Liverpool. The museum is, I am told, very good, and there should be a Museum of Liverpool, but should it be in an angular concrete slab perched diagonally across the waterfront walkway between the 18th/19th century docks and the three great early 20th century buildings. It is the right museum in the wrong building in the wrong place.

On the left of the picture above is the Peer Head building. The Mersey Ferry needs a ticket office, but it does not have to be this big – the building also contains commercial premises – nor this ugly.

The Waterfront with the Peer Head providing a 'new façade' for the Cunard Building and the Museum of Liverpool to the right

Looking at the Three Graces across Canning Dock, the Museum intrudes on the left while the modern Latitude Building intrudes from the right.

Three Graces across Canning Dock

From the eastern corner of Canning Dock, the Latitude Building is hidden by the Longitude Building and beside it as a box known as Building Three.

How to lose a UNESCO World Heritage listing

Building Three jars with the other two though all were part of the same development. They might have been acceptable elsewhere but not here?

Liverpool Council knew the development was controversial and UNESCO have been in conversation with them for some time. The construction on Bramley Dock of a new 55,000-seater stadium for Everton (construction started August 2021) was the final straw.

Liverpool Council argued that Our World Heritage site has never been in better condition and if they are talking about the physical state of the buildings, they are right, but the site is more than the sum of its parts. Liverpool has chosen commercial development over heritage and I think that is a shame, particularly as other parts of the city would have benefitted from such development.

Matthew Street and The Cavern Club

From the Peer Head we walked in a straight line between the Cunard and Port of Liverpool buildings….

Down the side of the Cunard Building, Liverpool

….back across The Strand and Castle Street…

Castle Street, a wilted self-importance from every angle

To North John Street. In fifteen minutes, we were at the entrance of Matthew Street, home of the legendary Cavern Club. Unfortunately, the John Street end was closed by roadworks so we made our way to the other end – a long detour for a short distance.

Matthew Street is an alley a little over 100m long. It is narrow, dingy and even on a bright sunny day looks dark and, well, greasy – the slight shine of the paving stones makes them appear permanently slicked with urban drizzle.

There is still a Cavern Club and you can pay a fiver to have a look around if you like, but it is not where the Beatles performed almost 300 times. That was just across the alley but was filled-in in 1973 during construction work on the Merseyrail underground loop..

The Cavern Club, Matthew Street, Liverpool

Opposite, John Lennon leans against the wall of the Cavern Pub. Being instantly recognisable (like the Peer Head sculptures) is important in this kind of work, but this could be any young man of a certain period. Arthur Dooley (1929-94) was a well-respected Liverpool sculptor, but I would say this was not his best effort.

John Lennon leans against the Wall of Fame, Matthew Street

Lennon leans against the Wall of Fame, the names of 1801 bands and artists who performed at the cavern are inscribed in the brickwork. Apart from The Beatles, the list includes the other leading lights of Merseybeat like Gerry and the Pacemakers and The Searchers and many big names not normally associated with Liverpool such as The Rolling Stones (performed Nov '63), Ben E. King (Nov '66) and Queen (Oct '70). Being the right age we recognised many names well-known at the time, several stirring up memories I had all but forgotten.

According to guide books, and Google maps, Matthew Street also has a statue of Cilla Black. We could not find her, so asked the doorman at The Cavern. Cilla’s outspread welcoming arms had proved too tempting to those wanting to swing on them, he told us, and she had been taken away for repair.

Stanley St runs across the bottom of Matthew Street and that is where Eleanor Rigby can be found. She sits on a bench in an attitude of weary resignation looking down at a sparrow pecking crumbs off a copy of the Liverpool Echo, though that part of the statue has apparently gone missing.

Eleanor Rigby, Stanley St, Liverpool

Unlike the previous statues in this post, being instantly recognisable is not an issue and the sculptor, Sir Thomas Hicks, was free to use his imagination. Sir Thomas Hicks, better known as Tommy Steele, was a lad from London’s East End who graduated from singing in coffee bars to his first No 1 single in 1957. He was soon dubbed as ‘Britain’s answer to Elvis Presley’ but like the equally durable Sir Cliff Richard and Billy Fury, who suffered under the same soubriquet (Elvis was apparently a multiple choice question!), he was nothing of the sort. His career of 65 years (and counting) diversified into musical theatre, song writing, sculpture and more.

While performing in Liverpool in 1981, he offered to create a sculptural tribute to the Beatles. Liverpool City Council accepted and Eleanor Rigby has sat there since 1982. I hope she gets her paper and sparrow back soon.

St George’s Quarter

We found somewhere nearby for a snack and a beer and then headed north east along Victoria Street to the St George’s Quarter.

All cities have to deal with the juxtaposition of modern and much older buildings. Sometimes it looks fine, sometimes it doesn’t. I can’t make my mind about the building – student accommodation, I think – on the corner of Victoria and Crosshall Streets, but it is hard to ignore.

The corner of Victoria St and Crosshill St, Liverpool

In the next block we walked between the Dixie Dean and Shankly Hotels. The Liverpool music scene may wax and wane, but football goes on for ever."

St George’s Hall

No less an authority than Nikolaus Pevsner called St George’s Hall one of the world’s finest neo-Grecian buildings. It contains a concert hall,  Liverpool Register Office and the Coroner's Court. Opened in 1854 it was part of Liverpool's World Heritage Site.

St George's Hall, Liverpool

St John’s Gardens

My photograph is of the rear of the hall as we approached through St John’s Gardens – no, not a typo, St John’s gardens really are outside St George’s Hall.

Minor memorials clutter the park, but there are seven major statues dating from the first decade of the 20th century, when the garden was laid out. The Boer War themed memorial to the King’s (Liverpool) Regiment has a commanding central position.

King's Regiment Memorial, St John's Gardens, Liverpool

The other six are of individuals. Liverpool born William Gladstone, Prime Minster four times between 1868 and 1894 lurks behind the memorial above. The remaining worthies are generally long forgotten and I photographed William Rathbone rather at random.

William Rathbone,, St John's Gardens, Liverpool

He was, I have learnt, responsible for the first District Nurses, and founded the institutions which became the Universities of Liverpool and Bangor - a contribution worth remembering and celebrating (someone ought to tell the pigeon).

Wellington’s Column and the Steble Fountain

On the north side of St George’s Hall is the Walker Art Gallery.

The Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool

Beside it is a patch of open concrete where the Duke of Wellington - cast from melted down cannons captured at Waterloo - has balanced on his pillar since 1865. The city decided to honour him after his death in 1852 and then spent 13 years raising the money and finding a suitable site. In front is the Steble Fountain, donated in 1879 by a former city mayor, just to fill this space.

Wellington's Column and the Steble Fountain, Liverpool

Whatever you might think about pillar and fountain, it is impossible not to admire the dolphins playing round the bases of the street lamps.

Dolphins on the street lights, Liverpool

Back to the Waterfront

We returned to the waterfront to ensure we had tickets for the Mersey ferry tomorrow morning, the walk providing an opportunity to photograph the Liver Birds silhouetted against the early evening sun….


Liver Birds silhouetted against the evening sunshine

… and all three Graces in evening sunshine.

The Three Graces, Liverpool

We had to dodge the skateboards and electric scooters to get the right distance and angle, but I don’t begrudge the youth of Liverpool their fun on this huge paved open space. We had a free and interrupted view of the buildings, which is now available only from here. Had we gone a little further back (and been capable of walking on the Mersey) we would have no view at all as someone had parked an enormous cruise ship in the way.

Cruise ship docked at Liverpool
MSC Virtuosa, 331m long, 16 decks and capable of carrying 5,000 passengers. Don't fancy it myself.

Dinner at Gino D’Acampo’s

Having booked Lynne’s birthday dinner at Gino D’Acampo’s yesterday, it seemed appropriate to turn up and eat it.

Gino D'Acampo. Restaurant, Liverpool

The restaurant is large and busy with an open kitchen and, I thought, tables too close together for the current conditions.

Aperol has existed since 1919, but we first noticed it two years ago in Portugal and now it is everywhere. Is it just a dumbed down Campari (sweeter, less bitter and lower in alcohol), and is its recent success due to marketing or is there more to it? Lynne nobly volunteered to test a pre-prandial Aperol spritz while I had a Negroni – a more grown-up cocktail (I have become more accepting of cocktails since out Cuban trip last year). Aperol, she said was all right - but she wouldn’t bother again.

They accompanied the bread board - focaccia studded with tomatoes and olives, ciabatta, pecorino flavoured grissini and pesto.

Aperol Spritz and bread board, Gino D'Acampo, Liverpool

Lynne had a swordfish steak with sautéed potatoes and salsa verde, I had slow roasted pork belly with radicchio, balsamic vinegar and hazelnuts. We drank a Sicilian catarratto, crisp and dry it was a fine accompaniment, but definitely a wine that needed food.

The restaurant was large and busy, the menu was enormous – a host of mains, not to mention pizzas, pastas and bruschettas - and the staff buzzed around efficiently. There was nothing wrong with the food, indeed it was good, but I felt like our dining was the final process in a vast factory. Perhaps it is me, perhaps I just prefer smaller, less industrial, restaurants.

See also

Liverpool (1): Castle Street and the Catholic Cathedral
Liverpool (2): The Waterfront, The Cavern Club and St George's Quarter
Liverpool (3): Ferry Cross the Mersey and the Anglican Cathedral