Stocks House was built around 1750 and had been the residence of Manchester notables like Hugh Beever, the wealthy cotton spinner, and Gilbert Winter, a prosperous solicitor, who was also a wine merchant and a director of the Liverpool and Manchester railway. By the time Crossley became the tenant, Stocks had already seen its finest days, but his principal concern was for the storage of his vast book collection, rather than establishing a sumptuous lifestyle. See
James Crossley: A Manchester Man of letters, chapter 9 for more details of the house and Crossley's occupation of it. What you will not find in the book is this poem written by Crossley, shortly after taking up residence in 1878:
STOCKS HOUSE
In former days the House of Stocks
Was famous for its fighting cocks,-
An old diversion rough and manly
That cheered the heart of noble Stanley
When tenanted by Gilbert Winter,
All said of Port there was no stint here,
with a host who both low to high
Was the best of all good company
But now the place deserted looks;
it is made a magazine of books,
Whose owner long ago himself
Was fitly placed upon the shelf.
There are no cocks now worth showing,
No brimming bumpers full and flowing,
No radiant dames, no pleasant stories,
No hearty toasts from fine old Tories.
The clock that overlooked the way
No longer tells the time of day,
But seems to say, - What need of clocks
To count the last few hours of Stocks.
I apologise for the format of the poem. I tried to set it out in verses, but this is the way it emerged. If there's a way of formatting it, I haven't been able to figure it out. The 'noble Stanley' is of course a reference to the landlord, Lord Derby, and port was dear to Crossley's heart, being his favourite tipple, of which he was said to consume a bottle every evening. The author, aged 78, looks back wistfully and remembers happier days. He was to remain in the house until his death in 1883.
