Recollections of Old Liverpool | Page 4

anniversary of
our revered sovereign, George III. We used to keep his majesty's
birthday in great style. The bells were set ringing, cannon fired, colours
waved in the wind, and all the schools had holiday. We don't love the
gracious Lady who presides over our destinies less than we did her
august grandfather, but I am sure we do not keep her birthday as we did
his. The Mary Ellen was launched on the 4th of June, 1775. She was
named after and by my mother. The launch of this ship is about the first
thing I can remember. The day's proceedings are indelibly fixed upon
my memory. We went down to the place where the ship was built,
accompanied by our friends. We made quite a little procession, headed
by a drum and fife. My father and mother walked first, leading me by
the hand. I had new clothes on, and I firmly believed that the joy bells
were ringing solely because our ship was to be launched. The Mary
Ellen was launched from a piece of open ground just beyond the
present Salt-house Dock, then called, "the South Dock." I suppose the
exact place would be somewhere about the middle of the present King's
Dock. The bank on which the ship was built sloped down to the river.
There was a slight boarding round her. There were several other ships
and smaller vessels building near her; amongst others, a frigate which
afterwards did great damage to the enemy during the French war. The
government frequently gave orders for ships to be built at Liverpool.
The view up the river was very fine. There were few houses to be seen
southward. The mills on the Aigburth-road were the principal objects.

It was a pretty sight to see the Mary Ellen launched. There were crowds
of people present, for my father was well-known and very popular.
When the ship moved off there was a great cheer raised. I was so
excited at the great "splash" which was made, that I cried, and was for a
time inconsolable, because they would not launch the ship again, so
that I might witness another great "splash." I can, in my mind's eye, see
"the splash" of the Mary Ellen even now. I really believe the
displacement of the water on that occasion opened the doors of
observation in my mind. After the launch there was great festivity and
hilarity. I believe I made myself very ill with the quantity of fruit and
good things I became possessed of. While the Mary Ellen was
fitting-up for sea, I was often taken on board. In her hold were long
shelves with ring-bolts in rows in several places. I used to run along
these shelves, little thinking what dreadful scenes would be enacted
upon them. The fact is that the Mary Ellen was destined for the African
trade, in which she made many very successful voyages. In 1779,
however, she was converted into a privateer. My father, at the present
time, would not, perhaps, be thought very respectable; but I assure you
he was so considered in those days. So many people in Liverpool were,
to use an old and trite sea-phrase, "tarred with the same brush" that
these occupations were scarcely, indeed, were not at all, regarded as
anything derogatory from a man's character. In fact, during the
privateering time, there was scarcely a man, woman, or child in
Liverpool, of any standing, that did not hold a share in one of these
ships. Although a slave captain, and afterwards a privateer, my father
was a kind and just man--a good father, husband, and friend. His purse
and advice were always ready to help and save, and he was,
consequently, much respected by the merchants with whom he had
intercourse. I have been told that he was quite a different man at sea,
that there he was harsh, unbending and stern, but still just. How he used
to rule the turbulent spirits of his crews I don't know, but certain it is
that he never wanted men when other Liverpool ship-owners were short
of hands. Many of his seamen sailed voyage after voyage with him. It
was these old hands that were attached to him who I suspect kept the
others in subjection. The men used to make much of me. They made
me little sea toys, and always brought my mother and myself presents
from Africa, such as parrots, monkeys, shells, and articles of the

natives' workmanship. I recollect very well, after the Mary Ellen had
been converted into a privateer, that, on her return from a successful
West Indian cruise, the mate of the ship, a great big fellow, named
Blake, and who was one of the roughest and most ungainly men ever
seen, would