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innermost dock has (or will have when the works are completed) a link of connexion with the Great Float, and also with the Low Water Basin. Here, at this latter, we see more than at any other point the extent of the reclamation of beach-land hitherto almost useless. The Low Water Basin itself will afford an area of no less than thirty-seven acres, to all vessels drawing fifteen feet of water; and it is a most important feature in the plan, that steamers may enter it at all states of the tide. A massive sea-wall is being constructed from Seacombe Ferry to Woodside Basin, nearly a mile in length; and at about the centre of this will be the opening into the Low Water Basin: the opening and the Basin being both alike fitted for large vessels, let the tide be as it may. An arrangement of sluices is planned, whereby the Basin can be scoured out when necessary.

The further we advance from Woodside, the less developed are the Dock works. The Great Floating Harbour, and the wharfs and warehouses on the western side of it, are as yet only in an infant state, except one group of warehouses near the entrance of the harbour. These warehouses, however, are among the most interesting of the commercial elements of the place; for the general arrangements embrace a combination of facilities such as, perhaps, hardly exist in any other spot. The warehouses occupy three parallel oblong masses of buildings, with avenues between them. The Railway, besides being extended from its original terminus to the water-side at Monks' Ferry, will also be carried along the entire range of docks from end to end; shooting out its iron arms to encircle the steamboat quays, and to enter the very warehouses where the goods are to be deposited. Along the sides of the warehouses, and the avenues between them, the rails are already laid; and by the aid of 'turn-tables' and other appliances, a bale of cotton or a hogshead of sugar may be transferred from ship-board to the railway, the docks, or the warehouses, with a facility which, in all probability, is unmatched; at any rate, one can scarcely conceive modern improvements more judiciously grouped together in furtherance of a definite object.

Steam and iron are, in good truth, the two great working agents of our day. And Birkenhead has them both undeveloped, perhaps, in some instances, but having a germ within which tells of vigorous results in future years. Even while walking through the warehouses, we hear the clang and din of Laird's iron ship yard, in close vicinity to it; and if we visit that yard, we find evidence in abundance of the incessant activity with which these new denizens of the waters -iron ships—are being wrought. The scientific shipdraughtsman, the swarthy and lusty-armed smith, and the engine-maker-all are contributing their aid to the construction of these graceful monsters, if such a term may be permitted.

In process of time, as the dock works advance, the ground on which Laird's ship-yard is situated will be required; and that establishment will find a "local

habitation" elsewhere. But at present the three warehouses comprise the finished portions of the Dock Warehouse Company's works. They present the usual character of floors or stories of warehouses, with doors and cranes to assist in the elevation or lowering of goods; but the two points in which they do not resemble the generality of warehouses, are the very complete chain of connexion between them and the railways, and the means of deluging them with water in case of fire a most important matter, concerning which Liverpool and the insurance offices could tell many a sad tale,

THE WORKMEN'S DWELLINGS,

Birkenhead has the credit of having conceived and put into operation one of the most remarkable plans yet formed to apply modern improvements to dwellings for the working classes, How imperatively such works are called for, let our "Health of Towns' Commissions," and our "Sanatory Bills" tell. If society at large knew how very high is the rent which the poor pay for wretched accommodation, they would find that, even independent of kindly feeling, it would be really a profitable investment to build good and comfortable dwellings, which might be let at rents not exceeding those now paid for "fever factories," as the closelypent hovels are, with fearful expressiveness, sometimes called. If society would take the trouble to inquire how largely the poor-house, the hospital, and even the lunatic asylum, are tenanted by those who, but for their pestilent and pestiferous dwellings, might perhaps have been healthy and actively-working members of the community, they would find that, in addition to all that the poor really suffer, the middle and upper classes pay enormously for the defective system, in the shape of increased rates and increased voluntary contributions.

There are many circumstances that pointed out Birkenhead as a fitting scene for the establishment of some new system in such matters. It is a new town. In 1821 it contained but 200 inhabitants; whereas now it contains nearly 20,000; and the new streets are planned on such a scale, as to promise fitting accommodation for a population of 100,000 souls. Dr. Hunter Robertson, of Birkenhead, in a recently published Essay on the sanatory condition of that town, says, "Birkenhead is at this moment peculiarly fitted for the reception and adoption of any remedial or superior adaptation of projects suggested by skill, judg‐ ment, or experience. We have an adult population, the very presence of the great bulk of which argues the possession of health, strength, and energy, with the. natural characteristics of Englishmen, patient, laborious, and enterprising; in domestic relations, just, grateful, and affectionate. In these we have ready materials to mould and fashion towards a high destiny, by providing for all the means of pursuing life with knowledge, principles, and purposes, calculated to dignify humanity, and advance the progress of one

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portion of the country towards that proud prerogative of teaching others how to live.' Farther, living in a matured period of the world's history, we may be considered fortunate in possessing a consequent superior experience than its youth; and by imitating the conduct of our ancestors in innovations on customs, for the sake of the true and useful only, we best compliment the noblest portion of former times, and their wisdom; and yet how many of the inconveniences to which we are still subjected arise from an obstinate retention of old practices, and a neglect of the advantages which a well-arranged system of co-operation would bestow!"

Dr. Robertson, in a few details to which we shall allude further on, shows that even in Birkenhead a vigorous supervision is necessary, to prevent the recurrence of evils, in the way of house building, which Liverpool and Manchester have long had occasion to deplore. But, in the meantime, it behoves us to see what really has been done in two distinct and notable

instances.

ings at a low rent, it will be the strongest of all incitements to others to do likewise.

These workmen's dwellings, then what are they? One hardly knows at the first glance what to think of them. They are so totally unlike anything of the kind to which we are accustomed, that a standard of comparison is not easily suggested. They are not rows of cottages containing two or three rooms each, fronted and backed by gardens. They are not scattered cottages, speckling a valley and the side of a hill, like so many of our pretty, old English villages. On approaching near them, along one of the wide roads which will one day form a chief street of Birkenhead, they appear more like houses for the upper classes of society; and we feel puzzled how to associate them with the requirements and limited wants of a working population. If we look at the front and end elevations (Cuts, No. 2 and No. 3), there is, it must be owned, something altogether out of the usual order of things, in respect to workmen's dwellings. Let us, then, look closer, and see what are the details of arrangement.

In a part of Birkenhead quite aloof from the general buildings of the town, and situated at least a couple of miles north-west of Woodside Ferry, is a beautiful Gothic church, St. James's, now erecting from the designs of Mr. Lang (Cut, No. 1, top). This church, when the vast scheme of the neighbourhood is completed, will occupy a centre, from which eight broad and handsome streets will radiate in as many different directions; so that the church will, by-and-by, have one of the finest positions, relatively to surrounding buildings, that can often fall to the lot of such a structure.

When the Dock Company commenced their operations in 1844, "finding," as they state, "that they must either provide accommodation for the numerous workmen required for the construction of their warehouses and docks, or submit to great inconvenience, expense, and delay, in consequence of the want of it, they determined to erect a number of dwellings for their labourers and mechanics. After calculating the cost and returns from various descriptions of cottages submitted to them, they determined to build to the plans designed by C. E. Lang, Esq." This has been effected; and the scheme is not one whit the less One of these incipient streets, Ilchester-road, worthy of attention because it is founded on a com- and another westward of it, Stanley-road, enclose mercial basis: if the Company find that a fair return between them, at the end nearest the church, a trianfor their capital can be obtained by letting good dwell-gular piece of ground; and as this ground is scarcely

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half a mile distant from the uppermost or inmost of the Dock Company's works, it was selected as the site of the workmen's dwellings. On the other hand, as the streets in the neighbourhood will probably ere long be occupied by good houses, either for shops or private residences, it seemed desirable that the workmen's dwellings should not, by anything mean or povertystricken in their appearance, clash with the general architectural appearance of the whole. This seems to have been one of the principles which guided the architect in the invention of his plans; and the result is a highly curious one. At the extreme corner, fronting the church, will be a school-house, capable of accommodating five hundred children; and at one of the other eight corners fronting the church, between Corporation-road and Vyner-street, will be the parsonagehouse for the incumbent of the new church, when finished. Behind the school-house are the workmen's dwellings, presenting a frontage, or, perhaps we may rather say, an end elevation, on two sides of a triangle; so arranged that the block of buildings altogether furnish 350 dwellings for workmen.

In the first place, the block is divided by parallel avenues into five or six ranges of buildings. Each avenue is nicely paved and well drained, and has handsome iron gates at each end (as shown in Cut, No. 3) to keep out vehicles; thereby making the avenue a capital play-ground for children; while there is abundant room for foot-passage on either side of the gates; and the gates themselves can be opened, if occasion requires. In each of the avenues are the fronts of the houses on one side, and the backs of those on the other; so that no avenue need be over-crowded by the ingress and egress of the respective dwellers. All the avenues are named or numbered; and a general system, carried out by the proprietors, is adopted for

the thorough cleansing and good keeping of the avenues, and of the outsides of the dwellings generally. Then, as to the houses themselves. It is obvious, at a glance, that they are planned on the French system, of having many complete dwellings in each house; but they have this most vital advantage over the large and lofty houses of Paris, that the most efficient and scrupulous provisions are made for ensuring ventilation and drainage-the great source of mischief in ninetynine-hundredths of all our poorer dwellings. There are but three or four street-doors in each avenue; or, rather, there are no street-doors at all; for each house has a stone passage, open to the street, from whence the staircase and the doors to the separate dwellings proceed. Each house contains four floors, or flats, or stories, all above-ground (for there are no under-ground kitchens or cellars); and each story is divided into two distinct dwellings, one on either side of the stone staircase that runs up the middle of the house. The rooms forming each dwelling open into each other; and a door, opening from the outermost of these rooms into the staircase, and properly provided with lock, bolts, keys, &c., forms, in fact, the street-door for the family inhabiting that dwelling. The whole group of houses, from end to end, are fire-proof, being formed of brick, stone, and iron; wood-work being provided only where, for domestic comfort, such an arrangement is desirable. And even where planking and other wood-work is to be seen, it is so backed by brick, or iron, or stone, that an accidental fire would soon be extinguished, for want of material to work upon.

Who ever heard before of fire-proof dwellings, and comfortable dwellings, too, for workmen! It is much to live in an age when such a scheme is not merely talked about, but actually put into operation; for the means will be developed, by degrees, of deciding how

far the new plans meet all the requirements of the case. Eight dwellings, then, form each house; and when we enter one of these dwellings, we cannot but admire the mode in which every inch of room is made available, and cleanliness is provided for. Every dwelling consists of three rooms, opening one into another; one sitting-room and two bed-rooms; or parlour, kitchen, and bed-room, according to the wishes of the inmate. The sitting-room is provided with a range and oven; and at a convenient part of the room is a jet of gas, which is turned on for a certain number of hours in the evening, to be lighted or not at the option of the family. Around are shelves and recesses and cupboards, and other little arrangements which a family well know how to appreciate, The two bed-rooms open into or from this sitting-room; and in one of them (if not both) is placed an iron bedstead, lent to the inmates by the Company, to be used if desired, Those who know how much the use of metal in bedsteads conduces to cleanliness, will see the motive of this arrangement. In a small compartment, wholly closed from the rooms by a well-fitting door, are all the arrangements belonging to the water and drainage of a house, planned on such an admirable scheme, that each small dwelling of three rooms has a complete privacy from all the others, and a degree of salubrity in its constructive economy, such as the dwellers in many a house of higher rank might well envy.

The little republic of each house-the denizens of eight dwellings, or twenty-four rooms are eight independent states, so far as regards their domestic arrangements; but they form (if the term may be admitted) a sort of federal union in general matters. On the flat roof of each house is a fine large cistern, capable of holding one thousand gallons; and the supply of water is most abundant for all. Pipes descend to supply all the eight dwellings; and from time to time the whole of the drainage-pipes are flushed by a torrent of water let down from the cistern; all the rain-water, too, that falls on the house-top, is made to contribute to the completeness of the drainage. Down through the centre of the house, from top to bottom, runs a square shaft or hollow trunk, containing within it the drainage, water, dust, and gas-pipes belonging to all the dwellings the gas is conducted upwards; the drainage and dust are conducted downwards; and the water is conducted both upwards and downwards; but none of the pipes containing them are visible to the inmates of the dwellings: they are enclosed within the vertical shaft, which has iron doors to admit a workman within it when any repairs may be necessary to the pipes. If we were to follow the busy housewife in her daily sweepings of her set of three rooms, we should see one among many remarkable instances of the thoughtful care that seems to have presided over the planning of these houses. A small sliding iron door, eight or ten inches square, is fixed in one corner of a recess, close to the ground; and, on this door being lifted, all the dust and dirt from the rooms are swept into the opening, and the door immediately closed: from that

moment the housewife knows nothing, or need know nothing, of what becomes of the dust; it goes into the dust-shaft, which receives the dust from all the eight dwellings by eight similar openings, and thence descends to a very large dust-cellar beneath the level of the house. A locked iron trap-door, sunk into the avenue behind each house, when opened, gives access to the dust-cellar, and allows of the removal of all the dust; which, as well as the water and gas and drainage of the houses, is not left to the mercy of the inmates, but is superintended by a manager appointed to attend to the whole group of houses.

The ventilation, too, is skilfully managed. Every room has two or more air-bricks,' as the builders term them, fixed in the outer wall; that is, a space equal to the size af a brick is left open to the admission of air, covered within and without by an iron grating, and capable of being wholly closed by an iron shutter if necessary. Some of these openings are made near the floor, to admit the fresh air; while others are made near the ceiling, for the exit of heated and vitiated air; and there are also air-flues or ventilating shafts in different parts. The windows, made of cast iron and glazed with plate glass, are hung on pivots, so as to be opened to any extent with great readiness.

But the gardens-where are they? Are there none? It will be a drawback, in the minds of many, to the advantages of these admirable houses, that they have no gardens. But if we come to look around us, we find that such pleasant adjuncts are, indeed, very seldom placed within the reach of the working classes in a busy town. Where land, as in Birkenhead is valued by the square yard instead of by the acre, we may without difficulty understand how different an aspect the enterprise of building these houses would have put on, had gardens been attached to them: either the internal arrangements would have been less complete, or the rent would have been higher-in either case frustrating in part the main object in view. Yet, although they have not gardens, in the general acceptation of the term, they have a pleasant substitute for them, such as in England may well be regarded as a novelty. Each house, measuring perhaps about thirty-five feet by twenty-five, has a flat roof, bounded by a sufficiently high and strong parapet; and this constitutes one of the most acceptable terraces imaginable. It has quite an oriental effect; for all the roofs are on the same level, though they do not communicate with each other. A staircase and doorway lead up to the roof, just as if it were one of the stories of the house; and when on the roof, a wide prospect meets the eye, including the greater part of Birkenhead, the Mersey with its shipping, the opposite buildings of Liverpool, and a good deal of open country in the other direction. Now, as all the eight families, or the tenants of the eight dwellings constituting the house, have common access to this terrace, may it not form a pleasant substitute for a garden? It is a common drying-ground for all; and on a summer evening a most welcome spot it is to breathe the fresh air. And may not the

Mignionette, and the Geranium, and the Daisy find a operations were much less advanced than they now little corner, and enjoy the fresh air there too?

are, a lively writer in 'Chambers's Edinburgh Journal'
thus spoke of what met his view:-"When we had
passed a mere parterre of short streets overlooking
the river, we were at once launched into a mile's
breadth of street-building, where unfinished houses,
unmade roadways, brick-fields, scaffoldings, heaps of
mortar, loaded trains, and troops of busy workmen
meet the eye in every direction. It was like the scene
which Virgil describes when he introduces Æneas and
his companions into Carthage, but like nothing which
had ever met our eyes in real life. *
You ask for the most public buildings, and find they
are all in the mason's hands, excepting a few churches.
There is to be a capital town-hall-a capital market

And what, it may now be asked, does the working man pay for such a dwelling? To answer this, it must be borne in mind that the dwellings are really for working men, and not for poor men; for men in the receipt of weekly wages, for some handicraft employment; and not for those who are ignorant, day by day, how or where they will rest their head at night. Each dwelling or set of rooms lessens in rent as it approaches nearer to the top of the house. The lowest rental, we believe, is somewhere about half-a-crown a week, which includes payment for the three rooms, and those numberless little conveniences (including gas) to which allusion has been made; and from that point the rent rises to four or five shillings, according to various-a capital everything." advantages of situation, &c. ; but in every dwelling, even of the lowest rent, the sanatory arrangements are as fully carried out as in those of the more expensive kind. Some of the corner houses afford more than three rooms to a dwelling; and these command a higher rental.

These details have been somewhat long and minute; but the subject really deserves it; for while so much is being written and said about Sanatory Regulations and the Health of Towns, it is well to glance at what has actually been done. The building of these workmen's dwellings is, as the French would say, "un fait accompli;" the mind and the money have been applied; and it remains to see what results will be produced. Some of the dwellings are already occupied; and when the Dock enterprizes bring more population into that quarter, doubtless they all will be. As to the rate at which the speculation will remunerate the Dock Company (to whom the houses belong), they can afford to wait while the results develope themselves; but in all probability it will be quite sufficient. As to the advantage of a working man having three such. rooms and the other accommodations for three shillings or so, per week, let those decide who know what are the rentals in close, damp, ill-ventilated, and ill-regulated houses, in the midst of our busy towns. In a more central part of Birkenhead, a group of houses, very similar in many respects to those just described, has been constructed by one of the members of that family, the Lairds, whose name is so intimately associated with the recent progress of the town; and these, being nearer the scene of present working operations, are nearly all occupied.

THE NEW STREETS.

One hardly knows where Birkenhead begins or ends. So much that is new meets the eye on all sides-so many links are there between new buildings and green fields that the real extent of the town is left in doubt. And if a map or plan be referred to, the puzzle is rather increased than lessened, unless we carefully distinguish between the present and the future, the existing and the proposed, Two years ago, when the

The "capital everything" is coming by degrees. During the intervening period of two years, many of the buildings alluded to in this description have been advanced towards completion. Yet many of the streets are so long, and planned on such a grand scale, that several years must elapse before they are all built and occupied. And well so, too; for as the town is destined to grow with the growth of the docks, an incautiously-rapid extension of the town would be a useless sinking of capital: the members would outgrow the heart. Great, however, as are the works yet to be done, the plan shows how well arranged is the system which is to guide them. There is one street, sixty feet in width, extending for a length of two miles, in a perfectly straight line, from the vicinity of the market to the workmen's dwellings; and there are six other streets, parallel to it, and lying, like it, between the Park and the Docks, whose length varies from one to two miles. Beyond the workmen's dwellings, and all around the beautiful Park which will shortly call for a word or two of our notice, are other new streets, mostly of ample width. As a general rule, all the main streets extend from south-east to north-west; and are crossed in the other direction by shorter ones.

Few as may yet be the houses built in these five long streets, yet the underground arrangements are completed for establishing the town on a healthy basis. A most extensive system of sewerage has been formed, ramifying into all, or nearly all of the streets. Dr. Robertson, in the work before quoted, gives a tabular view that illustrates in a striking degree the comprehensive scale adopted in the arrangements of this new town. He states that there are eight miles of street sixty feet in width, thirteen miles about forty feet in width, and others of intermediate or of lesser width, making a total of about thirty miles of street, of which nearly twenty-seven miles are provided with sewers on a most ample scale.

Yet, even with all this completeness of arrangement, it would appear from Dr. Robertson's details, that the utmost vigilance on the part of the town commissioners will be requisite, to prevent the plan from being marred in part by individual negligence. Many houses and

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