— The Blog for History Lovers —
We’ve dedicated this section of the blog for people who love history. More notably — Liverpool history.
Here you’ll find author interviews, as well as articles and sample reads from some of the history books we have published.
If you come away from the chaotic confusion of traffic that is Childwall Fiveways and make your way to Childwall Valley Road, you will find the roar of the traffic slowly receding as you walk down the hill and enter a tranquil world which has All Saints’ Church, at its centre. Even before you reach the church, and pass the gloomy depths of Childwall Woods, overhung by giant beech trees blocking the sun's rays from ever penetrating the leaf canopy, it becomes increasingly apparent that this place is quite ancient. And if you entered the Woods itself, you would see right away a dank, mossy roadway carved out of the solid sandstone, just wide enough for a carriage and horses; the meandering path once led visitors to Childwall Hall, which was the last in a long line of manor houses, dating back to the 1600s — sadly demolished in 1950. Returning to the road, what was once the focal point of the village, All Saints’ Church, comes into view, and across the road the castellated turrets of the 15th century Childwall Abbey compete with the church for architectural attention.
A lot of people from Liverpool will recognise the Royal Hotel (from historical photographs) that once stood outside Lime Street railway station. But beyond recognising the building, there’s not much that’s known about it aside from how it became a pub and was demolished in the 1960s.
The Royal Hotel was once owned by the Winslade hotelier family during the Victorian and Edwardian era until the 1930s.
We caught up with Dell Winslade for a heart-warming chat about his family’s legacy and how the book came to be.
‘Baptism of fire’ is an old but appropriate cliché for the experiences we’ve had to face during the Blitz. Deafening explosions followed by silence, a hush gradually filled by ringing ears, the roar of flames and the crash of toppling walls as the fabric of the city is slowly destroyed. And a constant awareness of death, civilians and fire-fighters.
We sat down with Flights of Fantasy author George Munday, and delved into his latest historical book project.
John Gibson was undoubtedly the finest sculptor to work for the Franceys brothers and although he went on to earn fame and fortune over a period spanning 60 years he never forgot his…
Henry Park was born on March 2nd, 1745, in Water Street, one of two boys and three girls, and he was baptised in the nearby St Nicholas Church. Henry’s father was an…
Liverpool endured a harrowing time in the Second World War as a major target for the enemy, suffering great devastation, both in her communities and infrastructure. In the first week of May 1941 alone, Liverpool experienced the heaviest bombing of the war in Britain outside London.
When the largest and most luxurious vessel in the world, the Olympic, visited Liverpool on 31 May 1911, one young woman was so taken with the ship that she decided her future was no longer with a Liverpool confectioner where she was working, but with the White Star Line on this sumptuous vessel. Not only did she live her dream, but she was also later transferred to the sister ship, the even larger Titanic, due to sail from Southampton on her maiden voyage on 10 April 1912. This was Ruth Harwood Bowker, and this is her forgotten story.
When the receivers were called in to the owners of Lewis’s of Liverpool in early 2010, it marked the beginning of the end in the slow demise of the iconic and much loved department store.
John Hussey has been a writer for many years and has published several books on the history of Liverpool as well as several history articles in various publications and journals in the UK and US.
I caught up with John for a quick Q&A on his new book Liverpool Forgotten Landscapes, Forgotten Lives.
There is little mention of Liverpool before the year 1207, as the small hamlet was not really important enough to warrant being documented — at least in anything that could be considered official. For example, in the Domesday Survey of 1087 that was commissioned by William The Conqueror for the purposes of gathering tax, it was too small to even be listed at all. We think that the place may be included in six unnamed berewicks covered by the Manor of West Derby, but even that is speculative.