In the last chapter of my “Recollections” I spoke of the man—Joseph Williamson; the present will be of his “excavations.” In various parts of the world we find, on and under the surface, divers works of human hands that excite the wonder of the ignorant, the notice of the intelligent, and the speculation of the learned. Things are presented to our view, in a variety of forms, which must have been the result of great labour and cost, and which appear utterly useless and inapplicable to any ostensibly known purpose. Respecting many of these mysterious records of a past age, page after page has been written to prove, and even disprove, the supposed intent of their constructors; and it cannot but be admitted that after perusing many an erudite disquisition, we are sometimes as well-informed, and as near arriving at a conclusion as to the original purpose for which the object under discussion was intended, as when our attention was first engaged in it. In some instances, those who have discovered uses for the strange remnants of, to us, a dark age, have exceeded in ingenuity the projectors of those relics.

Could we draw aside the thick veil that hides the future from us, we might perhaps behold our great seaport swelling into a metropolis, in size and importance, its suburbs creeping out to an undreamt-of distance from its centre; or we might, reversing the picture, behold Liverpool by some unthought-of calamity—some fatal, unforeseen mischance, some concatenation of calamities—dwindled down to its former insignificance: its docks shipless, its warehouses in ruins, its streets moss-grown, and in its decay like some bye-gone cities of the east, that once sent out their vessels laden with “cloth of blue, and red barbaric gold.” Under which of these two fates will Liverpool find its lot some centuries hence?—which of these two pictures will it then present? Be it one or the other, the strange undertakings of Joseph Williamson will perhaps, some centuries from now, be brought again to light, and excite as much marvel and inquiry as any mysterious building of old, the purpose of which we do not understand, and the use of which we cannot now account for. They will be seemingly as meaningless as any lonely cairn, isolated broken piece of wall, or solitary fragment of a building, of which no principal part remains, and which puzzles us to account for at the present time.

Mr. Williamson’s property at Edge-hill, was principally held under the Waste Lands Commission. His leases expired in 1858. It commenced adjoining Miss Mason’s house, near Paddington, and extended to Grinfield-street. It was bounded on the west by Smithdown-lane, along which ran a massive stone wall of singular appearance, more like that of a fortress than a mere enclosure. Within this area were some of the most extraordinary works, involving as great an outlay of money as may be found anywhere upon the face of the earth, considering the space of ground they occupy. In their newly-wrought state, about the years 1835 and ’36, or thereabouts, they created intense wonder in the minds of the very few who were permitted to examine them. During the last few years, I believe they have been gradually filled up and very much altered, but they are still there to be laid open some day. Few of us know much of them, though so few years have elapsed since they were projected and carried out, since the sounds of the blast, the pick, and the shovel were last heard in their vicinity. Now what will be said of these minings, subterranean galleries, vaults and arches, should they suddenly be discovered a century hence, when their originator as well as their origin shall have faded away into nothing like the vanishing point of the painter? Here we behold an astonishing instance of the application of vast labour without use, immense expense incurred without hope of return, and, if we except the asserted reason of the late projector that these works were carried on for the sole purpose of employing men in times of great need and depression, we have here stupendous works without perceptible motive, reason, or form. Like the catacombs at Paris, Williamson’s vaults might have been made receptacles for the dried bones of legions of our forefathers. Again, they might have been converted into fitting places for the hiding of stolen goods, or where the illicit distiller might carry on his trade with impunity.

I hardly know in what tense to speak of those excavations, not being aware in what state they are at present. A strange place it is, or was. Vaulted passages cut out of the solid rock; arches thrown up by craftmen’s hands, beautiful in proportion and elegant in form, but supporting nothing. Tunnels formed here—deep pits there. Yawning gulfs, where the fetid, stagnant waters threw up their baneful odours. Here the work is finished off, as if the mason had laboured with consummate skill to complete his work, so that all the world might see and admire, although no human eyes, save those of the master’s, would ever be set upon it. Here lies the ponderous stone as it fell after the upheaving blast had dislodged it from its bed; and there, vaulted over, is a gulf that makes the brain dizzy, and strikes us with terror as we look down into it. Now we see an arch, fit to bridge a mountain torrent; and in another step or two we meet another, only fit to span a simple brook. Tiers of passages are met with, as dangerous to enter as they are strange to look at. It must ever be a matter of regret that after Mr. Williamson’s death, some one able to make an accurate survey of the property did not go through and describe it, because it has been greatly changed since then by the accumulations of rubbish that have been brought to every part of it. All the most elaborate portions of the excavations have been entirely closed up. In one section of the ground (that near Grinfield-street), where there was of late years a joiner’s shop, the ground was completely undermined in galleries and passages, one over the other, constituting a subterranean labyrinth of the most intricate design. Near here also was a deep gulf, in the wall sides of which were two houses completely excavated out of the solid rock, each having four rooms of tolerable dimensions.

This chasm is now quite filled up. The terrace extending from Grinfield-street to Miss Mason’s house is threaded with passages, vaults, and excavations. At the northern corner there is a tunnel eight feet high, and as many wide, which runs up from what was once an orchard and garden, to a house in Mason-street. The tunnel is, I should think, 60 yards long. As the ground rises up the hill, there are several flights of stone steps with level resting-places. About two-thirds up, where the first flight is encountered, may be seen a portion of a large vault which runs a short way southwardly. A small portion of the top of the arch, between it and the steps, is left open, but for what reason I never could make out. The further end of this vault opens into another great vault, which I shall presently describe. The passage is very dry, but the air has a cold “gravey” taint, very unpleasant to inhale. At the second landing there is a sort of recess, into which rubbish from the garden above is shot down through a spout or funnel. At the top of the passage is a doorway opening upon the back of a house in Mason-street. This passage or tunnel was evidently intended for a mode of communication between the house and the orchard. In the garden or orchard, and near the tunnel mouth, were four lofty recesses, like alcoves, three of which were four feet deep. In one of those recesses, which was carried much further back than the others, the stones were lying as they fell, and there was a channel on one side of the flooring which seemed to have been intended for a drain. Through a large folding gate access is obtained from Smithdown-lane into a wide passage or vault, in shape like a seaman’s speaking trumpet. It is broad enough to accommodate two carts at least, and has been used when the stone has been carted away from the delph at its eastern end. This vault is constructed of brick. It gradually deepens at the eastern end, and is about 15 feet wide, and 20 high. At the opening it is not more than 15 high. The top outside is covered by soil, and forms part of the garden previously mentioned. At the left hand side of the tunnel end will be found a vault, running northward for about fifty or sixty feet. The end of this vault is the limit of Mr. Williamson’s property. The tunnel already described as running up to Mason-street crosses the top of this vault. This vault is about thirty-six feet wide and perhaps thirty feet high, but the floor has been considerably raised since Mr. Williamson’s time by debris and rubbish of all sorts thrown into it. In the right hand corner of the vault, about ten feet from the ground, there is the mouth of a tunnel which runs up first towards Mason-street, it then turns and winds in a variety of ways in passages continuing under the houses in Mason-street, and opening upon many of the vaults. To the left of the entrance vault, there is a large square area from which immense masses of red sandstone have been quarried. It is forty feet from side to side. There is a vault in the southern wall opposite the wall just described. It runs towards Grinfield-street, and is composed of two large arches side by side, surmounted by two smaller ones. In the eastern face of the quarry there is an immense arch perhaps sixty feet high; and about thirty feet from its entrance there is an immense and massive stone pier from which spring two arches on each side, one above the other, but not from the same level. The pier is hollowed on the inside by three arches. On the left hand wall inside the arch there are two large arches, from which vaults run northwardly, and on the right hand side of the wall there are also two vaults which extend to a great distance in a southwardly direction, towards Grinfield-street. From these vaults, other vaults branch off in all sorts of directions. The houses in Mason-street all rest upon these arches; and as you passed along the street, the depth of some of them at one time was visible through the grids. The construction of these arches is of the most solid description, and seems stable as the earth itself. There are some openings of vaults commenced at the end near Grinfield-Street, but discontinued. These arches seem to have given way and presented a curiously ruined aspect. In the lower range of vaults there was a run of water and what Williamson called “a quagmire.” In several places there are deep wells, whence the houses in Mason-Street seem to be supplied with water. Sections of arches commenced, but left unfinished, were visible at one time in various places. The lowest range of arches opening from the Grinfield-street end run to the northward. From the roof of many of these vaults were stalactites, but of no great length. The terraced gardens are ranged on arches all solidly built. The houses in Mason-street are strange constructions. In one house I saw there was no window in one good-sized room, light being obtained through a funnel carried up to the roof of the house through an upper floor and room. This strange arrangement arose from Mr. Williamson having no plan of the house he was building for the men to work by, consequently it was found the windows had been forgotten. He never had, I believe, any drawings or plans of either his houses or excavations. The men were told to work on till he ordered them to stop. In another house I went through there was an immense room which appeared as if two stories had been made into one. The bedroom—I believe there was only one in the house—was gained by an open staircase, run up by the side of the west wall of the large room. After passing the room door you mounted another flight of stairs which terminated in a long lobby, which ran over the top of the adjoining house, to two attics. The gardens of this house were approached by going down several stone steps (all was solid with Mr. Williamson) past the kitchen, which was also arched, and thence down another flight of stone steps until you came to a lofty vaulted passage of great breadth. You then entered a dry, wide arch. From this another arch opened in a northwardly direction. At the end of the principal vault was a long, narrow, vaulted passage, which was lighted by a long iron grating which proved to be a walk in a garden belonging to two houses at a distance. This passage then shot off at right angles, and at length a garden was gained on a terrace, the parapet wall of which overlooked the large opening or quarry previously described; and a fearful depth it appeared.

Some of the backs of the Mason-street houses project, some recede, some have no windows visible, others have windows of such length and breadth as must have thrown any feeble-minded tax-gatherer when he had to receive window duty into fits. These houses really appear as if built by chance, or by a blind man who has felt his way and been satisfied with the security of his dwelling rather than its appearance. The interiors of these houses, however, were very commodious, when I saw them years ago. They were strangely arranged, with very large rooms and very small ones, and long passages oddly running about.

I recollect once going over a house in High-street which Williamson erected. The coal vault I went into would have held at least two hundred tons of coals. In all these vaults and places the rats swarmed in droves, and of a most remarkable size. I once saw one perfectly white. Wherever Williamson possessed property there did his “vaulting ambition” exhibit itself.

Such is a brief account of Williamson and his works. A book might be filled with his sayings and doings. Amid all his roughness he was a kind and considerate man, and did a great deal of good in his own strange way. His effects were sold by Trotter and Hodgkins on the 7th June, 1841, and one of the lots, No. 142, consisted of a view of Williamson’s vaults and a small landscape. I wonder what has become of the former. Lot 171 was a “cavern scene” which showed the bent of the man’s taste.