Hale is a pretty little place close to Liverpool and now in Cheshire, although traditionally located in Lancashire. Without doubt though, its most famous son is John Middleton, the ‘Childe of Hale’.
Click on the video above to discover the story of the Childe of Hale
Visiting the village recently I made this video to record the story of John Middleton who was said to have been 9 feet 3 inches tall, so tall that at night his feet were said to protrude out of the windows of his house.
John Middleton’s house
His life story is bound up with that of Sir Gilbert Ireland, whose body guard he was, and through whose connections he visited Brasenose College, Oxford and was presented to King James I in London.
Brasenose College, Oxford which has a number of portraits of John Middleton and still names the eights boat of the rowing club ‘The Childe of Hale’.
Modern statue of the Childe of Hale by Diane Gorvin
Although the village pub is named after him it used to be that there was a lot less visibly connected to him there, apart from his grave. Nowadays there is a plentiful supply of plaques and notices and a more than life size statue. But his grave is still the object of everyone’s visit to Hale. Strangely lettered the inscription reads, once you have worked it out, ‘Borne 1578 Dyede 1623 Here Lyeth the Bodie of John Middleton the Childe Nine Feet Three.’ Locally, in recent decades, he was always more associated with Speke Hall because his most famous portrait was long displayed there, but he had no direct connection with Speke Hall. The Ireland family, the local landowners whom he served, lived at the long demolished Hale Hall.
The grave of the Childe of Hale
Hale Hall, now demolished
Hale still has its Manor House, which once inspired John Betjeman to verse, and the local church is well worth seeing but you can hear the full story of the Childe of Hale by clicking on the video at the tope of this page.
The Manor House, Hale
St Mary’s Church, Hale with John Middleton’s grave in the foreground
Until 1867 there were two Unitarian churches in Dublin. Both could trace their history back to at least the mid-seventeenth century and both had a succession of distinguished ministers and comprised congregations that had a significant role in Dublin life. After the restoration of 1660 the English Independent and Presbyterian clergy who had occupied the prime positions in religious life in Dublin during the Cromwellian interregnum were removed from their posts. This really was the start of the congregations of Wood Street, which later moved to Strand Street and ultimately to St Stephen’s Green, and New Row, which later built a new church on Eustace Street in 1728. In 1867 the congregations of Eustace Street and St Stephen’s Green amalgamated at St Stephen’s Green and have been a single congregation ever since. But the building on Eustace Street remained, for most of its history being used by Brindley’s the printers, and it is still there today, although today it is really little more than the façade.
The history of this building deserves to be better known and properly understood. I first went to see it in the early 1990s when it was empty but looked intact and was still recognisable as an old meeting-house. I took this picture which was published in the Inquirer at the time.
Within a few years, however, the whole area around it in Temple Bar underwent massive refurbishment and changed from a run down backwater to a busy cultural quarter. In about 1995 the building was turned into the Ark, a children’s theatre space.
The meeting-house today
Undoubtedly this is a good use for the building although it is a shame to think that so much of the original building had to be demolished to allow it to happen. Only the façade and the two side walls remain from the building of 1728. All the rendering from the old building has been removed to expose the brickwork both inside and out. But it is still a very impressive building.
One of the two entrances to the building
Christine Casey, in her book Dublin in the Buildings of Ireland series, says of the building: ‘The C18 facade is a handsome essay in retardataire Carolean classicism…A red-brick two-storey six-bay front with entrances in bays two and five and large segment-headed sash windows.’ It’s always good to see a bit of retardataire Carolean classicism. But it is a very fine frontage and even if the rest of the building is gone, it remains as an impressive testimony to the people who built the church.
Not everyone approved of it when it was built. According to Thomas Witherow a Quaker remarked (there was also a Quaker meeting-house on the same street) that ‘When there is so much vanity without, there cannot be much religion within’.
Visiting Eustace Street over the summer I took some pictures of the interior. We can see the bare brickwork which once echoed to the sound of the sermons of such luminaries as John Leland and James Martineau.
Upstairs window brickwork
Looking through one of the downstairs windows
Apart from the windows there is nothing remaining that tells us how the interior of Eustace Street looked. However, about 110 years ago the Non-Subscribing Presbyterian magazine published two engravings of the interior without giving any source for these interesting views. The first showed the position of the pulpit.
The Eustace Street pulpit as it may have looked
The foyer of the building today
The windows that look on to Eustace Street are topped by a gentle arch but according to the Non-Subscribing Presbyterian images the now demolished windows at the back of the building were flat topped. At the back of the church there was a gallery which housed a clock and the organ.
The organ and gallery of Eustace Street as they looked before 1863
When Eustace Street was built times were difficult for Dissenters, they could frequently be the target of violent attacks, and from the earliest days there was a wall in front of the meeting-house. At some point before 1835 this was changed to the low wall and attractive railings which still stand there to this day. But neither the walls nor the railings were of much use when James Martineau added his name to a declaration in favour of Catholic emancipation which resulted in the windows being smashed by a mob.
The wall and railings today
It is good that this much has survived and that the space is obviously put to such good use. However, there has not always been such a clear understanding of the historical place of the meeting-house. Not long after the Ark was opened in 1995 members of Abbey Presbyterian Church were invited to hold a special service on the premises complete with baptisms of children as a way of connecting with the original history. This was a nice thing to do but rather misunderstood the nature of the history of the premises.
Inside the foyer today
James Martineau was ordained in this meeting-house on 26 October 1828. Back in 1992 I contributed an article to the Inquirer entitled ‘Martineau’s First Ministry’. If you would like to read it click on this link: Martineau’s First Ministry
Recently, when in Oxford, I visited the Christ Church Picture Gallery where one of the exhibitions, entitled ‘WISH YOU WERE HERE!‘ (1 July – 30 October 2023) The attraction of Christ Church in early photographic postcards, caught my eye. It is always interesting (and rare) to see a serious art exhibition that contains items that you could afford to buy yourself. There are around 70 postcards in the Christ Church exhibition but seeing them encouraged me to start my own small collection. Prices can vary but generally cards like this should be quite cheap, they were produced and sold in vast quantities by a variety of printers and are hardly rare. So I decided to create my own small collection and focused on cheap examples of pictures of the West Front/St Aldate’s view of Tom Tower. I picked this view because although every postcard from 1900 to 1950 (or indeed to the present day) looks superficially the same you realise when you investigate closely that this is not the case. Since Tom Tower is situated on a main thoroughfare there are plenty of social changes that can be observed and a multitude of minor small details that are worth exploring in the foreground. I will work out the best way to display these images of the West Front.
But I allowed myself a small diversion into a handful of pictures of Tom Tower itself. Mainly this was because I managed to get one picture that I had seen in the exhibition which must be quite rare and was accordingly slightly more expensive than the others. This is it:
‘Christ Church Oxford under Repair, Aug. 17th 1909’. No publisher named.
I think this is a wonderful postcard. All the pictures of Tom Tower alone, largely taken from over the road, somewhere near the entrance to Pembroke College, are basically the same. There might be a vehicle of some sort somewhere in view, or a bowler hatted figure standing under the entrance to the college, but not much more.
This picture, however, is very different. The publishers give us the exact date and show us Tom Tower, not as you would expect, but covered in scaffolding. If you had turned up in Oxford to do the touristy thing and saw the tower covered in scaffolding I imagine you would be disappointed. I don’t think you would want to buy a postcard that also obscured the view. If you turned up after the work was completed and the scaffolding had been taken away I don’t think you would want to buy a picture of how it looked during restoration, unless you were very interested in scaffolding. It can’t have had a long shelf-life and it can’t have been many people’s favourite view. And yet it is a compelling image, intriguing and lively. I am glad the unnamed publisher took this view and glad to get a copy for my collection.
This card, dated 14th January 1910, was sent by Emily to ‘Mr Hammond, “The Lilacs”, Skipton Cliffe, Andoversford, Glos.’ Mr Hammond appears to have been Emily’s uncle since she also included ‘love to Aunt’ at the end of the message. And it doubled as a birthday card – ‘With every Good Wish for Many Happy Returns of the Day’, she begins. Emily might have been a student in Oxford, she was certainly resident there because she also says ‘I sent you the paper for you to read Mr Whale’s speeches our Liberal Candidate for Oxford’. ‘Mr Whale’ was George Whale who stood in Oxford in the 1906 election and lost by just 100 votes. He stood again in January 1910 but a swing of 6.4% saw him lose by over 1,200 votes to Arthur Annesley his Conservative opponent. George Whale was a freethinker and the chairman of the Rationalist Press Association. A former Mayor of Woolwich he was never successful in getting elected to Parliament.
But this was the card that Emily chose to send to her uncle for his birthday along with news of the freethinking candidate on the eve of the election in Oxford. It was, I think, an inspired choice.
‘Tom Tower Christ Church, Oxford’. Published by Vincent of Oxford. Posted 4th September 1915. Sent to Mrs Ewan Jones of Cricklewood by ‘All’, they were planning to drive to Oxford ‘with little Julian’ in the afternoon.
The other postcards of Tom Tower are all difficult to date precisely, especially when they were unposted, but they were mostly taken before the First World War, although similar examples could remain in print right up to the 1940s.
‘”Tom” Tower Christchurch, Oxford’ by J. Salmon Ltd., Sevenoaks. Unposted.
‘Christ Church, Oxford’. Published by Penrose and Palmer. Posted by Dorothy to Mrs England in Acocks Green, Birmingham on 12th November 1926.
This last photograph, published by the local firm of Penrose and Palmer, is another favourite of mine. The road is wet after a downpour and the photographer has caught a reflection of the building in the road. It’s a fine photograph. It falls somewhere between the direct images of Tom Tower on its own and the wider (landscape) views of the whole West Front but it is actually a more characterful and interesting picture than most of them.
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This memorial near Liverpool’s Pier Head is dedicated in honour of the Heroes of the Marine Engine Room. It is often referred to as the ‘Titanic Memorial’ because the original intention was to commemorate those lost in that disaster. The RMS Titanic was registered in Liverpool and the headquarters of the White Star Line was not far from the Pier Head, indeed the building is still there to this day. Although the Titanic didn’t visit Liverpool there were many local connections with the ship and there are a number of Titanic memorials in the city to this day.
But the original idea of the memorial was to commemorate the 244 engine room staff who remained at their post after the ship struck the iceberg on 15th April 1912 keeping the ship’s systems running as long as possible to help people escape as the ship sank.
However, by the time it came to be erected, two other major naval disasters needed to be commemorated. The first was the sinking of the Empress of Ireland which was another Liverpool-registered ship which had regularly made the crossing from Liverpool to Quebec between 1906 and 1914. On 29th May 1914 it sank after a collision in the mouth of the Saint Lawrence River with the loss of 1,012 lives. The next year, during the First World War, another ship with very close Liverpool connections was sunk by a German U-boat on 7th May 1915. This was the Lusitania which was sunk about 11 miles off the coast of Ireland with the loss of 1,201 lives. It was a brutal attack on a passenger ship which also included a number of American citizens at a time when the United States had not yet entered the war.
The Memorial to Heroes of the Marine Engine Room in front of the Liver Building
So when the memorial was unveiled in May 1916 it was dedicated to ‘All Heroes of the Marine Engine Room’. It was designed by Sir William Goscombe John and is seen as one of the first memorials to commemorate the heroism of working men who are depicted on the memorial. As Terry Cavanagh puts it in his Public Sculpture of Liverpool it is ‘a rare example in Liverpool of the commemoration not of a single, high-ranking individual but of the “ordinary” workers of the city’.
The west face of the memorial: Two engineers, one holds a stoking-hatch lever and the other a spannerFigures on the east face: Two stokers, one holding a cloth, the other a shovel. The four figures above, on the corners, represent the elements and, at the very top, four female figures represent the sea
Something like £4,000 was raised from donations around the world before August 1912 to build the memorial. When it was finally unveiled on 9th May 1916 it was done with very little ceremony although it still attracted large crowds, many of them mourners of people who were lost on the Titanic and the Lusitania, although by then the intention was to honour all maritime engine room fatalities incurred during the performance of duty.
Memorial to the Missing of the Naval Auxiliary Personnel of the Second World War
Many more memorials have been added to the Pier Head since the Second World War including the Merchant Navy War Memorial (Memorial to the Missing of the Naval Auxiliary Personnel of the Second World War), the Merchant Navy Memorial dedicated to the men and women who gave their lives in both World Wars and have no other grave than the sea, and an area with a succession of memorials of sailors of different nationalities who served in the Second World War including Belgian, Dutch, Chinese, Norwegian, and Polish merchant seamen and other servicemen and women. In addition there are plaques remembering the sinking of the SS Arandora Star, torpedoed off the coast of Donegal in 1940 with the loss of over 800 people, mainly non-combatants; HMT Lancastria which was sunk while evacuating servicemen at St Nazaire on 17th June 1940 with the loss of about 6,000 people (said to be the worst disaster in British maritime history); and a memorial to the ships that repatriated 20,000 people held in captivity in the Far East up to the end of the Second World War.
Merchant Navy MemorialIn memory of members of the Polish Navy and Polish Merchant Fleet
Video: The Royal Liver Building clock strikes 4 o’clock
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