More Merseyside Tales E-Book

Ken Pye

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 285

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

Local historian and broadcaster Ken Pye has collected a further fifty true tales that celebrate the weird and wonderful side of Merseyside's history. From the subterranean munitions factory at New Brighton and the bird-man of Speke, to wild tigers at Tranmere and a mysterious leprechaun, you are sure to uncover some truly amazing and extraordinary stories here. Richly illustrated, this fantastic collection will delight everyone interested in finding out more about Merseyside's strange and curious heritage.

Leseprobe

First published 2016

This edition published 2024

The History Press

97 St George’s Place, Cheltenham,

Gloucestershire, GL50 3QB

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

© Ken Pye, 2024

The right of Ken Pye to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the Publishers.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978 0 75097 895 8

Typesetting and origination by The History Press

Printed and bound in Great Britain by TJ Books Limited, Padstow, Cornwall.

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Introduction

The Naughty Nymphette of Neston

The Goddess Minerva

Lifesaving and Currant Buns

Hengler’s Circus and the Hippodrome

The Real Inventor of the ‘Mighty Wurlitzer’

William Hutchinson – Liverpool’s Remarkable Dock Master

Wild Tigers in Tranmere

Liverpool’s Grim Gaols and the ‘Long Drop’

The Smallest House in England

Miller’s Castle and the Nude Bathers of Bootle Strand

‘Stand and Deliver!’

A Casbah in West Derby

Childwall Village and its Abbey

The Body in the Derby Square Dungeon

Nova Scotia, Mann Island, and ‘Dickey Sams’

Eastham Ferry Pleasure Gardens

The Chinatown Paifong

‘Women and Children First!’

The Cathedral that Never Was

Judas Burning

The Earl and the Playhouse

The Palace and the ‘Creep Inn’

Abdullah Quilliam and Britain’s First Mosque

The Wallasey Hermit

Salty Dungeon Point

The Great Leprechaun Hunt

A Taste of Scouse

The Bird-Man of Speke

Almost the Bunbury

Revenge in the Commons

West Kirby’s Strange Burial Places

Lord Derby’s Mouse and The Whispering Arch

Moby Dick and Liverpool

HMS Thetis – A Floating Coffin

Strawberry Teas and Towers

Crypts, Catacombs, and Corpses

The Birthplace of ‘Being Prepared’

Hartley’s Village – A Sweet Community

Older than Stonehenge – The Calder Stones

Dingle – A Haven of Romance and Beauty

The Wailing Widow of Liscard Castle

Sea Shanties, Maggie May, and ‘Women of Easy Virtue’

The Star-Crossed Lovers of Wavertree Hall

Everton Village Cross and ‘Old Nick’

Scrimshaw, Scuttlebutt, and ‘Shiver My Timbers!’

Old Mother Riley, the Boxing Kangaroo, and Wild Willie West

The Dockers’ Umbrella

The Punch and Judy People of Merseyside

New Brighton’s Guinness Festival Clock

King Kong of Mossley Hill

Select Bibliography

About the Author

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I certainly hope that you enjoy this fully revised collection of Merseyside tales, and there are still so many more where these came from!

Of course, it would not be possible to produce such a broad collection of stories without help and support. I would therefore like to thank the staff of Liverpool Central Libraries and the Liverpool Record Office in particular; and the librarians and many of my fellow proprietors of the Liverpool Athenaeum.

I would also like to acknowledge the support and stories given to me by the Earl of Derby DL; the late Sir Alan Waterworth KCVO; Mumin Khan of the Abdullah Quilliam Heritage Centre; the Most Reverend Justin Welby, Archbishop of Canterbury and former Dean of Liverpool Anglican Cathedral; Ken Rogers, journalist and author; John Illingsworth, former governor of HM Prison Liverpool; Richard MacDonald, of the Reader Organisation; the late Professor Richard Codman III, and Julia Lisman. I am, as always, very grateful for their encouragement, time and friendship.

All images are copyright of the Discover Liverpool private collection, unless otherwise stated.

INTRODUCTION

TO THE 2024 EDITION

In my first volume, Merseyside Tales, I stated just how proud I am of being a born and bred Scouser, but one who has worked all over Merseyside (Liverpool City Region), and who loves the entire county with an abiding passion. One of the many things that make this part of the world so attractive for me, apart from its wonderful people, is its rich and diverse heritage. Whilst I find this endlessly fascinating I am particularly entertained and continuously amazed by the wealth of tales from its history that are odd, unusual, surprising, or simply bizarre.

This is the second volume in my series of such stories, and I know that I have found another fifty of them that I am sure will entertain, delight, and hopefully surprise you too. As with volume one, all of my stories are true, and prove that truth is stranger than fiction.

I certainly hope that you enjoy reading them, just as much as I enjoyed researching and writing More Merseyside Tales.

Ken Pye

Liverpool, 2024

THE NAUGHTY NYMPHETTE OF NESTON

In 1765 on 26 April, Emily Lyon was born in Neston to the local blacksmith and his wife, and the family home still survives in the former fishing village. Emily’s father died not long after his daughter’s birth, leaving his widow and baby impoverished. So Mrs Lyon took her child to her hometown of Hawarden in North Wales, where she grew into a spirited, independent, and astoundingly good-looking teenager, with a very casual attitude towards sex and relationships. This meant that she was a challenge to bring up, but Emily was destined to have an interesting and unusual life.

When her daughter reached the age of 15, Emily’s mother decided that she should go to London to seek her fortune. Here, she first took a position as a nursery maid, but soon met a failed medical student from Edinburgh by the name of James Graham (1745–94). He was impressed by her beauty and immediately offered Emily employment in his brand new ‘Temple of Health’, which he had opened in fashionable Pall Mall, in August 1779.

Here, and for a fee of 2 guineas (£286 today), his patrons wandered through ornately furnished rooms festooned with glittering arrays of artificial flowers, and could also breathe in the heady, beeswax-perfumed air. Throughout this curious establishment the sounds of delicate music could be heard, played on violins, harps, harpsichords, cymbals, and tambourines. They could also listen to Graham delivering lectures on health and buy his patent medicines.

Patrons of the Temple of Health were also exposed to very scantily clad young men and women, including Emily (now known as ‘Emma’), who were called ‘Gods and Goddesses of Health’ and wafted rhythmically in time to the music in and around the candlelit rooms and passageways. These creatures draped themselves provocatively against exotically coloured, life-sized, nude, male and female Grecian and Romanesque statues. These young dancers were described by Graham as being ‘examples of physical perfection’ whose purpose was to encourage his clients to get into a more erotic mood!

By the end of 1780, the Temple of Health was so successful that Graham was turning away carriages from his door on a regular basis, and demand for his full range of services was in full swing. Customers were encouraged to experiment with strange contraptions and appliances described by Graham as ‘medico-electrical apparatus’.

Amongst Graham’s collection of pseudo medical equipment was the main attraction, his ‘Electric Celestial Bed’.

Electricity had just been discovered and its use as a medical aid had become all the rage, especially amongst the ‘idle rich’ and those members of the rising middle classes who were particularly concerned about establishing a personal bloodline!

For a fee of £50 a night (£7,400 today!), couples seeking to produce children would undress and lie on the bed, then have various parts of their bodies wired up. They would be subjected to a series of ‘stimulating electrical impulses and energising vibrations’ that were said to be designed to ‘encourage the libido and strengthen their amorous capacity’. Graham advertised that anyone who spent even one night in his ‘medico, magnetic, musico, electrical bed’ would be ‘blessed with progeny’, and ‘sterility or impotence would be cured completely’.

A newspaper report of the day described the bed as:

A wonder-working edifice, 12 feet by 9 feet. Its mattress is filled with sweet, new-mown wheat and oat straw; mingled with balm, rose leaves, and lavender flowers; as well as with hair from the tails of fine English stallions.

Overhead is a domed canopy, covered in fresh flowers and animated, musical, mechanical figures.

Stimulating oriental fragrances and ethereal gases are released from a reservoir inside the dome, from which is suspended, above the passionate couples, a large mirror that allows lovers to observe themselves entwined in amorous abandon.

A tilting inner frame puts couples in the best position to conceive, and their movements set off music from organ pipes, which breathe out celestial sounds, whose intensity increases with the ardour of the bed’s occupants.

So, the more you moved, the more the bed moved, and the more musical and perfumed it became. I don’t know about you, but I would find all this a bit of a distraction really!

In the Temple of Health, Emma Lyon soon became renowned as the most special of Graham’s beautiful bevvy of nubile young women, and was now titled the temple’s ‘Vestal Virgin’. Soon after taking up her position (if that is the most appropriate term!) at Graham’s bizarre emporium, Emma became renowned about London and the Home Counties for her beauty, and she had no difficulty attracting suitors. These often titled gentlemen soon introduced her to a much more sophisticated lifestyle. In fact, before long she became the mistress of Sir Harry Featherstonehaugh (1754–1846) of Uppark. However, in 1781, and at the age of only 16, she became pregnant but Sir Harry refused to support her or the child; perhaps he doubted that the baby was actually his.

Fortunately for Emma, though, she was quickly taken as the mistress of Sir Charles Greville (1749–1809), the second son of the Earl of Warwick, but he insisted that her baby be sent back to the Wirral where it was then looked after by Emma’s family. Sir Charles now improved his young lover’s social skills, developed her education, and taught her how to sing, dance, and act with some genuine talent. Emma now became the toast of London society and of the aristocracy, and she began to be invited to salons, levées, afternoon teas, weekend house parties, balls, and the opera.

In 1784, and now aged 19, Emma was introduced to Charles Greville’s uncle, Sir William Hamilton (1730–1803), who was the British ambassador to the Court of Naples. But, two years later and badly in debt, Greville reached an agreement with his wealthy and influential relative: in exchange for Hamilton settling all of Greville’s debts, Emma was sent to Naples to become his uncle’s mistress. This relationship was a surprising success and Emma began to make friends with the Neapolitan royal family. She also had quite some influence at court. In 1791, Emma and Sir William married, and the erstwhile exotic dancer from Neston became Lady Emma Hamilton. She was only 26 years old, whilst her husband was 60.

Then, in 1798, Rear Admiral Sir Horatio Nelson (b. 1758) was visiting the King and Queen of Naples when Emma caught the sailor’s eye (this was quite fortunate really as he only had one!). The popular and renowned naval officer and the still stunningly beautiful Emma were immediately drawn to each other. They fell deeply and passionately in love and began an affair. This very quickly became public knowledge as they were anything but discreet. However, the great naval hero was already married, and although this relationship had broken down Nelson’s relationship with Lady Emma Hamilton, who was of course still very publicly married to Sir William, now grew into a great scandal. Even so, Sir William was amazingly compliant, knowing full well about his wife and Nelson.

Emma on her wedding day to Sir William Hamilton, 6 September 1791. Emma was then 26 years old. (Liverpool Athenaeum library)

In 1801, Emma Hamilton bore Nelson a daughter, whom they named Horatia. Even though their relationship outraged the public, because of Nelson’s outstanding reputation and status in the country, British society pretended to find Emma and her affair with Nelson perfectly acceptable. But behind her back she was reviled and the subject of persistent and malicious gossip. Emma remained oblivious to this until Nelson was killed at the Battle of Trafalgar, on 21 October 1805. When the news was brought to her, Emma screamed and fell into a dead faint, and could not speak for almost a day. She later wrote, ‘Life to me is not worth having. I lived for him. His glory I gloried in … But I cannot go on. My heart and head are gone.’

In his will, Lord Nelson left Emma a small legacy of £800 (£57,000 today), and also as a ‘bequest to the nation’ asking that his friends, and British society, should continue to welcome and support her. However, society very quickly cast Emma aside and excluded her from the lifestyle that she had become so used to. The bereaved Emma soon found that she had many debts and the legacy was soon spent. In fact, by the spring of 1808, she owed more than £8,000 (£582,530).

In 1813, she was arrested for debt and spent time in the King’s Bench Prison in Southwark, although, because of young Horatia she was allowed to live in some very dismal rooms nearby. Emma was drinking heavily by now and was subject to long bouts of severe depression. In 1814, what friends she did have left had raised enough money to smuggle her and Horatia, now aged 13, to Calais in France. Here, they lived in cramped and poor lodgings where, according to Horatia, her mother spent the days lying on her bed drinking herself into a stupor – but not for long. In 1815 and at the age of only 50, Emma Lyon, the former exotic dancer from Neston and one-time Lady Hamilton, died an alcoholic in dire poverty, probably of cirrhosis of the liver. She was buried in the local church of St Pierre in Calais, which later became the Parc Richelieu. Here, in 1994, a memorial was erected to this tragic woman from Wirral.

THE GODDESS MINERVA

On the top of the dome of Liverpool’s grand and glorious Town Hall, with its four clock faces flanked by lions and unicorns, sits the statue of the goddess Minerva – the Roman equivalent of the Greek goddess, Athena. She sits in powerful and benevolent guardianship over the city and, as the goddess of wisdom, warfare, strength, science, magic, commerce, medicine, teaching, creativity, the arts and poetry, and as the inventor of spinning, weaving, numbers and music, she is a perfect symbol of Liverpool – ‘the world in one city’, a European Capital of Culture, and an internationally renowned World Class port.

The people of Merseyside, and of Liverpool in particular, certainly know how to celebrate life and community, and some of the most famous people in the world have visited our Town Hall over the centuries. They have come here for balls, presentations, official receptions and grand formal dinners. Most of these dignitaries, including royalty, seem to have succumbed to the power of the city to encourage self-expression and self-indulgence.

This is why, on the list of people who have had to be carried, or in some cases dragged, out of the Town Hall more than a little worse for wear, you will find Mark Twain (1835–1910), author of Tom Sawyer; King Edward VII (1841–1910); General Ulysses S. Grant (1822–85), US Army general and president; and a young William Ewart Gladstone (1809–1898), who later became prime minister four times.

Prince William Frederick (1776–1834), Duke of Gloucester and Edinburgh, also celebrated rather too well at the Town Hall. This was at a civic function in 1803, after which the prince was quoted in the local press as saying, ‘by the time of the 24th toast, the entire hall had lost count of the proceedings’. Even the Duke of Clarence (1765–1837) got ‘falling down drunk’ at a formal reception in the building on 18 October 1806. Some reports said that he was carried out singing to his carriage on Dale Street. Also known as ‘Sailor Bill’ and ‘Silly Billy’, on 26 June 1839 he ascended the throne as King William IV!

However, one visitor to Liverpool Town Hall had very little cause to celebrate. On 6 November 1865, Commander James Waddell (1824–86), the captain of the American Confederate warship, CSS Shenandoah, came into the main entrance of the imposing building. In his hand he carried a letter addressed to Liverpool’s Lord Mayor, surrendering his vessel to the British government. Earlier that day he had lowered the Confederate flag aboard his ship and formally handed his vessel over to Captain Poynter of HMS Donegal, mid-river on the Mersey. This was the last official act of the American Civil War (1861–65), which therefore ended, not in America, but in Liverpool.

The goddess Minerva sits on the dome of Liverpool Town Hall in benevolent guardianship of the people of the city. (Discover Liverpool library)

The goddess Minerva gazed down on all these proceedings in silent, perhaps amused benevolence.

LIFESAVING AND CURRANT BUNS

As shipping on the River Mersey increased during the eighteenth century, it became necessary to build navigation aids and hazard warnings to guide vessels as they sailed in and out of the dangerous estuary. By 1763, there were two lighthouses on the Leasowe shore, but one of these was badly damaged in severe weather. This was replaced in 1771 by a new lighthouse re-sited on the top of Bidston Hill – not the present building on the hill, though.

The remaining lighthouse, which is the one still standing onshore at Leasowe today, carries the date stone inscribed ‘MWG 1763’. This also commemorates the then Mayor of Liverpool and notorious slave trader, William Gregson (1721–1800).

Leasowe Lighthouse. (Discover Liverpool library)

The lighthouse later acted as the clubhouse for the Leasowe Golf Club, which was established in 1891, when a course was laid out on the common land around the building. The golf club moved to its present site, adjacent to Leasowe Castle, in 1893. In 1894, Mr and Mrs Williams, who had been keepers of the lighthouse on the Great Orme at Llandudno, transferred to Leasowe. Sadly, shortly after they moved, Mr Williams died and the Mersey Docks and Harbour Board, who had responsibility for the building, made Mrs Williams one of the first female lighthouse keepers in the country.

When the lamp was finally turned off and the lighthouse ceased to operate, on 15 July 1908, Mrs Williams moved into a cottage nearby. But the enterprising widow kept the lighthouse as a teahouse, serving ‘teas, minerals and light refreshments’ to summer visitors and, on Sunday afternoons, to golf club members. This service was extremely popular and her currant buns were said to be particularly scrumptious.

In 1929, Leasowe Lighthouse was put up for sale, but was not disposed of until 1930, when Wallasey Corporation bought it for £900. Mrs Williams died in 1935, and the lighthouse was closed to the public, boarded up and no longer used. It became a local curiosity and remained a popular landmark until the setting up of the North Wirral Coastal Park in 1989, when it once again began a new lease of life as the Ranger Station and Information Centre. Leasowe Lighthouse is now open to the public and is worth a visit.

HENGLER’S CIRCUS AND THE HIPPODROME

On West Derby Road and facing the end of Everton Road, just east of Liverpool city centre, is a builder’s yard on an area of semi-derelict land. Those who know nothing of what once stood here simply drive or walk past without giving it a second’s thought. And yet, this was the site of two of Liverpool’s most famous places of entertainment – Hengler’s Grand Circus and ‘the Hippy’.

Henry Hengler (1784–1861) was a famous circus performer throughout Britain during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, and his son, Frederick Charles Hengler (1820–87), known as Charles (and also as ‘Handsome Hengler’), followed in his father’s footsteps. Charles first became a ‘rope dancer’, which was another term for tightrope walker, and then gained a popular reputation as a skilled horseman, performing with a number of touring circus troupes. But Charles had always wanted to branch out on his own so, in 1848, he opened his own spectacular, touring, tented show, known as ‘Hengler’s Cirque’.

Soon, he realised that it would be far more efficient, and profitable, to have permanent shows in the larger cities around the country. So he began to acquire spacious buildings that could be redesigned and converted to accommodate his particular form of spectacle and entertainment. In 1863, Hengler bought the old Prince’s Theatre in West Nile Street in Glasgow, followed by equally grand premises in Edinburgh, Dublin, Hull, London and, of course, Liverpool.

In the great port, with its rapidly increasing population of people craving diversion and distraction from their often hard way of life and work, Charles constructed his first circus building on Dale Street. This was a large, single-storey, circular theatre built entirely of wood and canvas. It stood on the site of the old Saracen’s Head Inn, which had once been one of Liverpool’s most important coaching inns. This had been demolished in 1855, and Hengler’s Grand Cirque gave their first performance in their new building on 16 March 1857.

With acrobats of all types, horse riders, animal trainers and clowns, the people of Liverpool were thrilled and delighted by what they saw at the Cirque. A contemporary description of the theatre reads:

Hengler’s Cirque Varieties has opened, in Dale Street … a handsome, commodious, and spacious theatre, devoted to equestrian performances, which has been constructed by Messrs Holmes and Nicol of this town, on the model of Franconi’s famous Cirque, in the Champs Elysees, Paris.

The building, though of a temporary character, is most admirably suited for the purpose for which it is designed; and while accommodating an immense number of spectators, who can all easily witness the performances, the ventilation is perfect, and with an entire absence of draughts. There is nothing to offend the senses of smell or sight.

The audience is placed in compartments round the circle; the frequenters of the boxes being seated on cushioned chairs, with a carpeted flooring under their feet. The compartments entitled ‘pit’ and ‘gallery’ are also very comfortable, while round the whole building runs a spacious promenade.

The ceiling is covered with coloured folds of chintz, which give a brilliant and cleanly appearance; and the pillars supporting the roof are neatly papered, and ornamented with flags and shields. The whole aspect is, in fact, what has long been a desideratum in this country, and we regret it will have to be pulled down again in a few months.

And so it was, because in 1861, the ground on which Hengler’s building stood was sold and the ambitious impresario had to find a new site for his very successful show. The circus troupe gave their final performance on Dale Street on 14 March 1861, and Liverpool City Council’s former municipal buildings now stand on this site.

Undaunted, Charles Hengler soon found a new location in the town, on a street named Newington, which still runs between Renshaw and Bold Streets. With incredible speed, and with equally incredible expenditure, he constructed a brand new, specially designed, lavishly decorated circus building. A newspaper report of the time said that the new cirque was of ‘greater magnificence and more complete than anything of its kind erected in Great Britain’.

Just seven months after moving from Dale Street, in October 1861, the fabulous New Grand Cirque Varieté opened its doors to an expectant public. They were not disappointed because the show was just as impressive as its advance publicity had promised. This was because Charles Hengler was not just a gifted showman in the sawdust ring but in print, too. He paid for sensational printed advertisements, posters, and handbills, which announced ‘Great Novelties’ and ‘Screaming Comic Scenes’. They also promoted exhibitions of ‘horsemanship of the highest order’ presented by ‘Mr Williams’ who made ‘astounding leaps’.

The public were also invited to see ‘Miss Emily Cooke’ execute ‘exquisite poses of grace and beauty’, and to witness special appearances of ‘Mr John M. Hengler’ (1831–1919). He was one of Charles’ three sons, and performed outstanding feats of physical dexterity on the ‘corde elastique’. This was a tightrope secured at both ends by springs, which gave it ‘bounce’, enabling the acrobat to execute complicated leaps and somersaults.

Hengler was also a pioneer of Christmas pantomimes, which were proving to be extremely popular in Victorian England. In 1863, he presented daily matinee and evening performances of ‘Brilliant Equestrian and Gymnastic Acts’, followed by a show with the magnificent title of ‘Blue Beard, or Harlequin King of Mischief, and the Fairy of the Coral Grotto’.

A riotous pantomime in full and watery flow in Hengler’s Circus. (Discover Liverpool library)

This featured dazzling, gloriously decorated and illuminated scenes, state-of-the-art special effects and fabulous costumes, as well as a large cast of very dramatic actors and actresses. Its impact on audiences was unprecedented and they came to see this show in their tens of thousands. Ticket prices for the boxes and best seats sold for three shillings each, and sixpence for seats in the gallery; children were charged at half price.

After only seven years at Newington, Hengler once again had to close down his grand circus building. This time it was to make way for the new Central Station and train tracks of the Cheshire Lines Railway. In 1870, Hengler closed his theatre and, failing to find another site that suited his ambitious standards, decided to move away from Liverpool – but not for long. Large, approving audiences and therefore huge profits were always guaranteed in the great sea port, so in 1876, Charles Hengler returned to Liverpool. He opened his latest Grand Cirque on West Derby Road, just on the edge of the district of Everton, on 13 November 1876. This lavish new building had been designed by the well-known theatre architect, Jethro T. Robinson (d. 1878). A feature of the show was a water spectacular, in which the circus ring would be flooded with 23,000 gallons of water in just thirty-five seconds!

For another twenty-five years Hengler’s Grand Cirque continued to entertain the Liverpool public with stunning and complex productions, as well as with circuses and pantomimes; all with performing animals, acrobats, high-flying trapeze artists and clowns. This was even though Charles Hengler had died in 1887. However, by the end of the century, audience numbers were tailing off as tastes changed.

In 1901, Hengler’s Grand Circus building was closed so that it could be completely redesigned, now by the renowned theatre architect, Bertie Crewe (1860–1937). In August 1902, it reopened as the Royal Hippodrome Theatre of Varieties. Gloriously reconstructed in a sumptuous Louis XV style, and increased in size to make the lobby and auditorium more spacious. Not only were there tiered balconies and boxes, but it could seat 3,500 people, with space for another 500 standing. The high, circular ceiling featured painted panels by the artist Walter Sickert (1860–1942). Above the proscenium arch were five more painted panels representing the five senses.

The inaugural programme began with the very large orchestra playing the National Anthem. This was followed by ten variety acts that were headlined by the renowned troupe of acrobats, the Sisters Dainaff. For the next twenty years, the Royal Hippodrome provided the people of Liverpool with thrills as well as with top quality music hall entertainment, which was often spectacular and always popular.

Among the stars to appear here were the great escapologist, Harry Houdini; the miniature clown with giant boots, Little Tich; Charlie Chaplin, before he became the internationally famous star of silent film comedies; Gracie Fields; Fred Karno’s comedy dancing troupe; and the popular Liverpool-born comedians, Rob Wilton and George Robey. George Formby Senior also appeared here, as did the handsome and powerful weightlifter, the Great Hackenschmidt. It was during this time that the popularity of the theatre resulted in it becoming known affectionately as ‘the Hippy’.

In June 1931, following further changes in public tastes, the theatre closed. The Hippy’s last night as a music hall was a sentimental, extravagant and boisterous affair. The programme included the famous and popular music hall stars Harry Champion, singing ‘Any Old Iron’, and Vesta Victoria, singing ‘Waiting at the Church’.

One month later, the Hippy reopened as a cinema with the number of seats now reduced to 2,100, and with a presentation of the early Universal Studios horror film, Dracula. This played to over 30,000 people in the first week, and it is said that the star of the film, Bela Lugosi (1882–1956), came to Liverpool to promote his film at this time. However, the author has yet to find any evidence to support the claim.

The Royal Hippodrome Cinema remained a popular venue for Scousers for the next four decades, and in 1959, as an 8-year-old boy, I remember being taken to the Hippy by my mother, to see the double feature of Tom Thumb and The Wizard of Oz. I was dazzled by the magic of both films, shown as they were in the exotic surroundings of the Hippy, with its blue and white plaster mouldings, swags of drapery, naked cupids in every corner and lush, velvet curtaining. I also remember falling in love a little with Russ Tamblyn and Judy Garland!

However, the local population of the area declined during the late 1960s, and the Royal Hippodrome closed on 16 May 1970. Its final film was Winning, starring Paul Newman, but the old building did not win and it lay unused and derelict until 1984, when sadly the once famous and much-loved Hippy was demolished.

THE REAL INVENTOR OF THE ‘MIGHTY WURLITZER’

The world-famous Wurlitzer Theatre Organ was manufactured and produced by the Wurlitzer Company in New York, USA. However, they did not invent this remarkable, self-contained orchestra. It was the creation of Robert Hope-Jones, who had been born on 9 February 1859 at Hooton Grange, Cheshire, which lies between Chester and Birkenhead.

The family was wealthy and musical, and young Robert developed an enthusiastic interest in music as a child. This was encouraged by his parents and he developed this whilst studying at Birkenhead School. He also became an accomplished organist, playing regularly at church as well as at home. However, Robert also had a serious interest in engineering and upon leaving school he began an apprenticeship at Laird’s shipbuilders, also in Birkenhead.

Two of the great technological developments of the age were the electric telegraph and the telephone and, in 1881, Robert gave up his job with Laird’s to join a brand new organisation, the Lancashire & Cheshire Telephone Company. Here he entered into his new career with passion and dedication, and he was soon promoted to the position of chief engineer with the company. Robert learned much during his time there, especially about the developing science of electronics. He also decided to combine his love for music with his technological skills and, at work and at home, he began experimenting with an electrically driven system for delivering air to pipe organs.

Previously, mechanical bellows had to be manually pumped to create the wind pressure to produce the music from organ pipes, now Robert could do this using electric motors and pneumatic pumps. He was so successful with his experimental designs that between 1890 and 1914 he took out more than forty patents in both Britain and America.

It was at this point that Robert decided to go into business for himself and, in 1892, the Hope-Jones Electric Organ Company of Birkenhead was created to turn his designs into practical instruments. Controversially, he employed women to work in his factory, which caused the men in his workforce to immediately go on strike.

Not only was he bad at industrial relations but he was also no accountant. He seldom paid his bills on time and was always being hounded by creditors and disgruntled investors. Nevertheless, his technical and inventive skills were remarkable, as were the sophisticated electrically driven pipe organs that he was now producing.

Eventually, though, he realised that he had to close down his now failing Birkenhead business completely and, in 1903, he and his wife emigrated to America. Sailing aboard the SS Teutonic from Liverpool, he arrived in New York on 7 May 1903. Despite his recent experiences and his business ineptitudes (which he failed to acknowledge or overcome), Robert immediately opened a new business in the town of Elmira in New York, building electro-pneumatic pipe organs. Here, he developed the idea of constructing a complex organ, comprising not only a vast array of pipes but also many other instruments and sound effects. He also invented a system that allowed this device to be installed in theatres, behind great louvred screens which projected the sound around even the largest auditoriums.

Robert Hope-Jones, the real inventor of the ‘Mighty Wurlitzer’. (Discover Liverpool library)

Not only this, but his organ could be played remotely from a separate console at the stage, connected to the main instrument by electric cables. Robert also developed the idea of special stop tabs to control the volume of the complex organ, as well as the vast variety and combinations of instruments it could imitate and sounds that it could produce.