CHAPTER 12 1882 LIVERPOOL VIEWING  OF BERNARD’S PAINTINGS
Act IV,(1880-1890) scene 1

Venue: Walker Art Gallery
Date, September 15th, 1882, 3 p.m.

Those involved:
Edward W Cox
Charley Cox
Lindsay Hall
L Bernard Hall
Charles Walker

Scene: Room within the Walker Art Gallery, where local artists are featured. Lindsay and his son, Bernard, are standing next to Bernard’s paintings which are on show on the left side of the stage. On the right side, Edward Cox is featured with the book he has written and drawings taken from the book. Charley Cox and Charles Walker come in from stage left.

Lindsay: Charles, and Charley. How good to see you. How are you both? (they shake hands)

Charley: Well, considering. And how are you? You’re looking rather peaky these days.

Lindsay: Well, I hope I am looking like a proud father. Have you met my grown up son, Bernard?

Charles: Pleased to meet you Bernard. (shakes hands with Bernard) I vaguely remember meeting you at Eliza Cox’s funeral, but that must be 15 years or so ago.

Charley: 12, actually.

Lindsay: It is so nice for you to come to support Bernard in his work. What do you think of them?
(pointing out the paintings)

Charley: Very good indeed, But, actually, we are here to support my brother Edward, as well. That is him, over there. Did you not recognize him?

Lindsay: I didn’t even look properly. It must be even longer than 15 years since I saw him last. (He goes over and shakes hands with Edward.) And how are you keeping, Edward? Still up to your sketching, I see.

Edward : Well, I know I am not in the same league as your son, Lindsay. And I very much admire and envy his talent. But I am quite proud of my little book, which I have on sale here, and as you can see, many of my drawings feature in it. It is all about our local history, so you might find it of interest.

Lindsay: Garston? Well, of course, we all started out in that area. I certainly shall buy a copy.

Charles: I, too, am envious of both your talents. I cannot draw a straight line, although I am quite handy with a pen. We could have used you, Edward, in our writing group. Why didn’t you let us know you had writing talent?

Edward: I have no gift for fiction, and that seemed to be what you were wanting. I am happy enough to deal with real life and honest truths.

Bernard: I will buy a copy of your book, if you buy one of my pictures.

Edward: I don’t suppose there will be much similarity in value. What are your pictures worth these days?

Bernard: Well, the first one I exhibited here, entitled Cottage Scene in Bavaria in 1880, fetched 10 Guineas. Then I exhibited two last autumn, The Only Monastery Door, for 16 Guineas and Old Things for 10 Guineas.

Those you see here are my work from this year. Solitaire, is 10 Guineas, Consolation, is 8 Guineas, The Trysting Place is 12 Guineas, and Interior of a chapel in Bavaria is 10 Guineas.

Charley: Lucky you, having nudes as your main subject. I expect you get all sorts of fringe benefits. (He laughs and the others look uncomfortable.)

Edward: They are all excellent, but I must say the chapel picture is my favourite. Do you have a favourite, Bernard?

Bernard: Well I feel my main talent is in my drawing skills, and especially my nude studies. I feel the Trysting Place is my best work, and that is why it has the highest price tag.

Charles: Where were you trained, Bernard?

Bernard: I went to Kensington, London’s Grammar school - not to be confused with the one of the same name here in Liverpool. Then at Cheltenham College.

Eight years ago I started at the School of Design in South Kensington, under the French-trained Edward Poynter who stressed drawing skills, especially nude studies. I went abroad four years ago, after I had gained my teacher's certificate, and at Antwerp I studied under the Belgian master Charles Verlat, renowned for his history paintings, portraits and animal studies. He was a leader in the revival of interest in the graphic arts and from him I gained my strong interest in that.

In Munich I studied under Professor Ludwig von Loefftz, a history and landscape artist; and at this period the famous Karl von Piloty was director of the Munich academy. A studentship under von Piloty, a remarkable teacher, was a real prize for me.

Edward: I always wanted to ask you, Charles, are you in any way related to the man who started this Walker Art Gallery?

Charles: I only wish that I could claim him, but Andrew Barclay Walker is no where to be found in my family tree.

Lindsay: He was a brewer and alderman, and he offered to present this gallery to commemorate his term as mayor. He isn’t really noted for his interest in art, but he erected public houses of high architectural standards and gave generously to many good causes.

Charley: Generous to a fault. I heard his contribution to this place was more than £20,000, but I’m sure it was an astute move to promote his business interests. He wanted to improve the public image of brewing and alcohol drinking at a time when the temperance movement was getting a hold on the country. Luckily I managed to avoid its appeal. (chuckling again)

Bernard: There was a Liverpool Autumn Exhibition held here in Liverpool every year since 1871. I remember coming as a small lad. Then it was held in the William Brown Library and Museum and showed the Royal Academy’s annual exhibitions. I can remember saving up my pocket money and spending the threpence it cost me.

Edward: We should be proud of our Liverpool forebears. With the profits the Library, Museum and Arts Committee were able to purchases works for the council’s permanent collection. This was the first systematic attempt by a British public body to buy contemporary works for display in a museum or art gallery.

Charles: So when was this building completed then?

Edward: On September 28, 1874, Prince Alfred, Duke of Edinburgh, laid the foundation stone of the Walker Art Gallery and the council set aside £1,200 for the purchase of works of art. And five years ago, in 1877 - The 15th Earl of Derby opened the Walker Art Gallery on 6 September. I heard it received over 300.000 visitors in the first four months.

Bernard: Then in 1878 - 'And when did you last see your father?' by WF Yeames was bought from the Liverpool Autumn Exhibition for £750. It makes my 15 guineas pictures seem rather insignificant. And last year the building had an average of 2,000 visitors a day.

Charley: Edward, tell us a bit more about your book - after all you are being featured here too.

Edward. It’s called 'Some Account of Garston, and of the Ancient Chapel of St. Michael formerly existing there'

Charles: And what is the story behind these sketches?

Edward: Well this is Garston Village, (pointing out sections on his sketch) as it was in 1850, showing Garson Hall standing on top of the rock to the left, with the village cross at the bottom of the steps. It is done mostly from my recollections of what it was like when we were children, and its from a southerly direction, and you can see the remains of an enclosure wall in the foreground.

Charley: I remember the Hall. What exactly is the history of it that you are trying to bring out in your book?

Edward: Garston Hall was a half timbered building situated on a rocky promontory and once formed a picturesque scene as it stood overhanging the lower mill dam of Garston Dale. During the medieval period the Hall was a monastic grange, held by the Benedictine monks of the Priory of St. Thomas the Martyr of Upholland, near Skelmersdale in Lancashire, who were permitted to collect the tithes.

The links with UpHolland are confirmed by a decree made in 1334, by Roger, Bishop of Litchfield, directing that Brother William of Doncaster, who was formerly a Prior, was residing alone in the 'manor house at Garston, contrary to the Rule and to good order'. The Bishop commanded that the monks recall him to UpHolland at once, under the threat of excommunication. It would appear that ex-Prior William had quarrelled with his monastic brethren, and they had sent him away to Garston for the sake of peace. William returned to UpHolland at a much reduced rank. A few years later, John the Prior of UpHolland, appeared in court in 1350 against Nicholas de Bold and others who were accused of stealing goods and chattels valued at 100 shillings from monastic land at Woolton and from 'his fold at Garston'.

Charley: Naughty, naughty. (The others ignore him.)

Edward: The hall has been approximately dated to 1480 although it may have replaced an earlier building. The building faced south and consisted of a centre structure with two cross wings arranged in an H - shaped ground plan. The wings were gabled at each end and a large octagonal chimney shaft rose in the centre of the west wing. The remains of a strong walled enclosure with a ditch, apparently much older than the Hall, surrounded the house, and one of its lines continued as a boundary to the field above the lower mill dam which was known as the Monk's Field.

After the dissolution, Garston became the property first of the Duchy of Lancaster, and then of the Bishops of Chester, but it was leased successively to two recusant families, the Andertons and the Gerards.

There was a local tradition, that a room in Garston Hall was once used as a Roman Catholic Chapel, but I could find no trace of it at the time of my research. This room may have been in the east wing however, which had long since perished. The existence of a chapel would hardly be surprising, taking into account the widespread religious deviance in the locality.

Charley: The place is swarming with Irish Catholics.

Edward: THis is a much earlier period I am talking about. But, indeed, there seemed to be few, if any, Protestants in the village of Garston. The ancient chapel of St. Wilfred, which had been confiscated as a chantry under Edward VI, was used only as a rent-receiving centre, rather than for Protestant worship. The village also produced several priests, who were smuggled abroad for their studies and ordination before returning for a life of service and as a hunted missionary. Three priests came from the Garston Chaloner family alone, and a daughter Helen was imprisoned for several years under Queen Elizabeth for harbouring such a priest - a crime for which saw a number of women hanged.

Lindsay: And what is that other sketch?

Edward: Garston Village Cross at the head of the Mill Dam. In the book I talk about the mill pool and the narrow dingle leading to the Mersey. I wanted to capture the essence of this wonderful place before it is changed, as it no doubt will be, beyond all recognition from industrial and urban growth.

The railway company's search for a suitable access point to the south docks sparked off a marked increase in the industrial development of the area. Yet the presence of industry was nothing new to this narrow gorge. When Adam de Gerstan gave permission to the monks for the erecting of a tanning or fulling mill in the Dale, it was reputed to be the first mill in Lancashire to be erected for manufacturing purposes.

Below the mill pool the villagers operated a fishery but the enterprise was curtailed at the end of the 18th century when a vitriol works was erected on the site. In the early 1790's John Blackburne transferred his saltworks to that site from Liverpool. The Vitriol Works were closed in 1798 and the announcement carried in the local press regarding the sale also described the accompanying estate; '...an excellent house, lately built, and a good garden, suitable for the Manager or Director, and upwards of 5 acres of good land of large measure, with a great number of beautiful oak and other trees, the whole forming that beautiful spot, well known as Garston Mill Dale', Despite the industrial continuity, the view from Garston Hall is still quite beautiful - the image of a thriving fishing hamlet with a couple of water mills. You must make sure you visit it again before it is too late.

Charles: I will do that indeed, and I am most interested in your book, despite only having spent a few years of my late childhood here in Liverpool, but I do remember that area with great fondness.

Charles: How is your son Edward getting on with his painting, Charley?

Charley: He has come to his senses and gone back into the cotton brokerage business. But I daresay he will continue to dabble in his free time. I only wish he had the genius of you, Bernard.

Bernard: That is very kind of you to say, but it will take many years before I will be considered an established artist, and I spend all my time doing it. I depend on my parents to keep me - as the few pounds that I have made are certainly not adequate. But I have hopes that eventually I will make a name for myself and be remembered in future generations for my work.

Charles: Well done to you, Bernard, and to you Edward. It has been a great privilege for me to be here today. I would greatly like to buy one of your paintings, Bernard, and I shall ascertain from my wife which would please her most, and get back to you.

Bernard: Thank you very much. I will be happy to know that it is in the home of one of my father’s oldest friends. (They shake hands.)

curtain down.