Here Lies (bits of) The Younger Despenser?

In the 1970s, the jumbled bones of a man, minus a skull, several vertebrae and a thigh bone, were unearthed at Hulton Abbey. That they had been buried in the chancel immediately suggested that the remains were those of either a wealthy member of the congregation, or one of the Audley family who had endowed the abbey. In 2004 the remains were transferred to the University of Reading, where a closer examination of the bones suggested that the body had been hung, drawn and quartered. This unusual and brutal form of execution was normally reserved for higher status individuals and inflicted for the most serious of state crimes such as treason. Radiocarbon analysis dated the remains to between 1050 and 1385, and further tests suggested they were those of a man over 34 years old.

Hugh Despenser the Younger in the Founders and Benefactors
Book of Tewkesbury Abbey, c. 1525.
Source: Wikimedia Commons.

Who the man was was unknown, though various candidates from the Audley clan were put forward, but each in turn was ruled out. Then, in an academic article published in 2008, Dr Mary Lewis of the University of Reading suggested that the remains could be those of  Hugh Despenser the Younger. Despenser was the son of Hugh Despenser the Elder, Earl of Winchester, and was related by marriage to the Audley family. He became a favourite, and possible lover, of Edward II and as a result held great influence at court. Despenser's greed, duplicity and politicking however, earned him numerous enemies, including many of his own relations and more dangerously Edward II’s estranged wife Queen Isabella. Despenser’s crimes finally caught up with him when, in 1326, Isabella and her ally, Roger Mortimer, 1st Earl of March, arrived in England at the head of an army of mercenaries, deposed the king and sentenced the Despensers, father and son to death as traitors. On Queen Isabella's orders, the Younger Despenser was hung, drawn and quartered.

‘On 24 November 1326…Despenser was roped to four horses…and dragged through the city to the walls of his own castle, where enormous gallows had been specially constructed…Despenser was raised a full 50 feet…and was lowered onto the ladder. A man climbed along side him sliced off his penis and testicles, flinging them into the fire below…he then plunged a knife into Despenser's abdomen and cut out his entrails and heart…the corpse was lowered to the ground and the head cut off. It was later sent to London, and Despenser's arms, torso and legs were sent to be displayed above the gates of Newcastle, York, Dover and Bristol.’

Dr Lewis based her identification on Despenser's relationship to the abbey's benefactors the Audleys (Hugh de Audley was his brother-in-law, but the family was not on the best of terms with Despenser, having been victims of his covetousness), the age of the remains, the age of the individual (Despenser was 39 at the time of his execution) and the cause of death, while the missing bones were cited as proof by their very absence. When in 1330, Hugh de Despenser's widow, Eleanor de Clare, petitioned the crown for the return of her husband's remains, she is said to have only received his head, a thigh bone and a number of vertebrae which were interred at Tewksbury; these match the parts missing from the Hulton skeleton.

The identification has yet to be proven conclusively by comparing the two sets of remains, but it is an interesting analysis and it is fun to speculate that the partial remains of one of English history’s bad boys somehow wound up being buried in a small, obscure abbey in North Staffordshire.

Reference: Mary E. Lewis,  'A traitor’s death? The identity of a drawn, hanged and quartered man from Hulton Abbey, Staffordshire', published in Antiquity. A quarterly review of archaeology vol. 82 (2008) p. 113-124.

A Very Gruesome Football

A startling and macabre discovery was made on Sunday 29 December 1907 on the farm of Mr Bassett, of Trentham, next to the Staffordshire estate of the Duke of Sutherland. Some children playing in a barn on the farm were seen to be kicking a curious object about. A farm hand went over to them to  investigate and on examining the ‘football’ found that it was a human skull. 

The police were called for and a search soon revealed some clothing hidden under the hay in the barn and a short while later a human skeleton was discovered. That particular batch of hay had been harvested in 1906 and as the police could not trace any disappearance from the locality in that year, they quickly came to the conclusion that the skeleton was that of a tramp. There was some evidence to support this as a piece of soap and several other articles often carried by tramps were found in the pockets of the clothing. 

It seemed very likely that the tramp had snuck into the barn, climbed into the hay and fallen asleep. If this had happened immediately after harvesting and the hay was what is known as ‘sweating’ (i.e. the freshly cut plants were still giving off moisture, carbon dioxide and heat) this it was said would be sufficient to cause his death. That the body had been reduced to a skeleton after being only eighteen months in the hay was probably due the barn being infested with rats. 

Uttoxeter Advertiser and Ashbourne Times, Wednesday 1 January 1908, p.8

Boots! Boots! - A Potteries World Premier

Probably at some point in early to mid July 1934, Burslem hosted the world premier of the first film of an up-and-coming star, when, according to report, the Palladium Cinema in in Waterloo Road showed a new British comedy entitled Boots! Boots! The star of the production was George Formby Jr, the son of a notable music hall performer, who would go on to be one of the biggest home grown film stars of the early 20th century. In his most famous films, Formby was invariably cast as a gormless but cheeky character with an infectious grin and an astonishing skill with a ukulele, on which he played numerous very catchy tunes; his films still come over surprisingly well today. This early film, though, was a far cry from those later glossy productions. Apparently filmed over a fortnight on a shoestring budget in a room above a garage, the film has the feel of a review, with very little plot. George plays John Willie (a character invented by his father) a hotel boots who indulges in a number of comic encounters with the hotel manager, the chef, some of the hotel guests and a scullery maid (played by Formby's formidable wife Beryl). Discovering John Willie's prowess with the ukulele and the maid's dancing skills, the manager puts them in the hotel's cabaret.

George Formby later described Boots! Boots! as 'a lousy film', and certainly it seems very cheap and cheerful today, but on it's opening it proved to be a great hit across the country and effectively launched Formby's cinema career. By his own account he himself saw what a draw the film was when he secretly came to the Potteries to see the film open and was astonished to find that it was playing to packed houses. A Sentinel reviewer described it as ‘a distinctly happy piece of entertainment. There are plenty of laughs, an abundance of good tunes and the settings are up to standard for a film of this type.’

The reason why the exact date of the premier is unknown seems to be because the Palladium Theatre often went through periods when it did not advertise in the Sentinel, 1934 being one of these times and as a result the date is lost. The film was subsequently shown at the Roxy in Hanley for three days from 19 July and at the Regal, Newcastle on Bank Holiday, Monday, 6 August 1934, having gone on general release on 30 July. 

Reference: Staffordshire Sentinel 7 August 1934, p.3; correspondence of Jonathan Baddeley and David Rayner in The Way We Were supplement to the Sentinel, partially reprinted in The North-West George Formby Newsletter 36, Vol. 3, No. 12, June 1998, p.4.

In Grateful Memory of Timothy Trow

At about a quarter past four on the afternoon of 13 April 1894, a three year old girl named Jane Ridgway who lived with her parents at Steele’s Cottages alongside the Newcastle canal* in Boothen, Stoke, tumbled into the water. Nearby 21 year old Timothy Trow, a tram conductor who was in charge of the car working London Road that afternoon, was just about to signal to the driver to pull away from the West End terminus, when he heard a loud splash from the adjacent canal and saw the little girl in trouble. Without a thought for his own safety, Trow - a non-swimmer - got down from the tram, ran to the canal and jumped in. He managed to wade most of the way across the cut, the water only coming up to his waist, but then it fell away much deeper and Trow called out to his colleague the tram driver that he had cramp. The young man was in trouble and seemed to become helpless in the water. A passer by, Mr Henry Lloyd of Beresford Street, Shelton was one of several other men who rushed to the canal and he now jumped in to help Trow while another man, John Forrester of Wellesley Street, Shelton also plunged in and fished little Jane Ridgway out of the water. Timothy Trow desperately grabbed hold of Mr Lloyd who tried to pull him to the bank, but Lloyd too was struck by cramp and unable to hold onto the floundering man who threatened to pull him under had no option but to let go. Lloyd managed to scramble back to the bank where others hauled him out while John Forrester having handed Jane Ridgway to others, also tried to grab onto Trow, but to no avail. Every effort was made to catch the drowning man, but it was futile and in the struggle Timothy Trow disappeared from view and it was not until half an hour later that his body was found.

This dramatic rescue that ended in tragedy made quite an impact in the Potteries and all involved were praised for their bravery, especially Timothy Trow whose selfless act in going into the canal despite not being able to swim won him a massive amount of sympathy. As a result, his funeral three days later was a grand affair attended by dozens of mourners, his parents, family and friends as well as 30 fellow tram conductors and drivers who had been let off work for the day to attend the service as well as several company officials. Numerous wreaths decorated the hearse and hundreds of people watched from the pavements while blinds were drawn in many houses along the route  that the funeral cortege took on its way from Timothy’s family home in William Street, Hanley to Hanley Borough Churchyard. 

The Timothy Trow Memorial, London Road, Stoke.
Image: Google Earth

All this and the church ceremony were reported in the Sentinel which several days later announced that a memorial committee was being formed to raise funds for a permanent memorial to the young tram conductor and during the summer news came that Timothy Trow, Henry Lloyd and John Forrester were to be recognised by the Royal Humane Society. By early October a sum of £47,11s had been raised, enough to fund an 8 feet tall obelisk made of grey granite to be sited in London Road near to the scene of Trow’s deed and a marker was placed on his grave in the cemetery. The inscription picked out in gold near the base of the obelisk reads: ‘Erected by Public Subscription in Grateful Memory of TIMOTHY TROW, tram conductor aged 21 years who lost his life by drowning near this spot, in an heroic effort attempt to save that of a child April 13th 1894.’

The remaining money from the collection was divided between Messrs Lloyd and Forrester. On 22 October 1894, a large party of council officials and a crowd of onlookers were in attendance when the obelisk was unveiled, after which Henry Lloyd and John Forrester were presented with their certificates from the Royal Humane Society while the Society’s ‘In Memorium’ certificate for Timothy Trow was later presented to his parents. Despite the depredations of years in the open and the unwanted attentions of an occasional vandal, the obelisk still stands today and forms to focus of ‘Timothy Trow Day’ on 13 April each year that still draws a crowd to remember one young man’s brave deed.  

* The Newcastle branch of the Trent and Mersey was a four mile long canal connecting Newcastle to Stoke. It no longer exists, having long since been filled in.

References: Staffordshire Sentinel, 21 April 1894, p.2 and 11 October 1894, p.3; Birmingham Daily Post 16 April 1894 p.8 and 23 October 1894.

The Man Who Missed Isandlwana

British Mounted Infantry and Zulus at the Battle of Gingindlovu

Newspaper accounts of the local soldiers involved in the battle of Isandlwana that trickled back to the Potteries in early 1879 occasionally mentioned a Private Frederick Butler of the 2/24th Foot who had been seconded to the Imperial Mounted Infantry. Initial reports in early March indicated that he was a casualty, but these were wrong. In a subsequent report in the Sentinel on 5th April 1879, his father William, the publican of the Bell and Bear Inn, Snow Hill, Shelton, noted that his son had survived and that the family had received a letter from Frederick detailing the fighting he had seen, but this potentially interesting letter was never published in the paper, leaving the readers to wonder at what his story may have been. Frederick was alive, that much is true, but he lived largely because he was nowhere near to Isandlwana when the battle occurred. 

1199 Private Frederick Butler, 2/24th and 2nd Squadron Imperial Mounted Infantry

Frederick Butler was born in 1858 in Alsager, Cheshire, the second of five children born to William Butler and Ann nee Melbourne. By 1861, the family had moved to the Potteries where William became the landlord of the Bell and Bear Inn, Snow Hill, Shelton. Fred's mother died in 1869 and later that same year his father remarried to Sarah Lloyd, by whom he had two daughters. Fred joined the army in 1877, being assigned to the 2nd battalion 24th Regiment of Foot as 1199 Private Frederick Butler. Later that year he and his battalion were posted to South Africa.

Whilst in South Africa, on 1st September 1878 Private Butler was detached to the Imperial Mounted Infantry. This as the name implies was a mounted force that recruited soldiers from the infantry regiments who had some experience with horses, just as the son of an innkeeper might. Butler was posted to the 2nd Squadron Mounted Infantry under Captain William Sugden (1/24th) being employed as a saddler until 12th September1879, according to the pay and muster rolls of the 2/24th. This squadron was sent to serve with No.1 Column ('the Coastal Column') under Colonel Charles Knight Pearson and was commanded by Captain Percy Barrows of the 19th Hussars. This force was to enter the Zulu kingdom some 50 miles to the east of Lord Chelmsford’s Central Column that would soon fall victim to the Zulu counterattack.

With his unit Butler crossed into Zululand on 11th January and over the next week they made steady progress into the interior. The Coastal Column claimed the honour of first blood as early on 22nd January, the same day that the Centre Column was being cut to pieces at Isandlwana, Pearson's men successfully fought off the first Zulu attack of the war at the battle of Nyezane or Inyezane, and Private Butler as a member of the 2nd Squadron Mounted Infantry doubtless played his part in the fighting there. It seems very likely that when he wrote home it was that battle he was describing and misunderstandings by his family and local reporters perhaps gave rise to the story of him having survived Isandlwana. Without seeing the actual letter he wrote it is hard to say if this was the case, but if Pvt Butler had merely noted in his letter home that he had been in a battle with the Zulus on the 22nd this could have easily led to the confusion. The news of Isandlwana, or 'Isandula' as early reports called it, dominated the news, obscuring Pearson's success 50 miles away. Equally, ‘Inyezane’ (as the battle was originally known) could have been confused with ‘Isandula’

Whatever the case, Private Butler was very much alive and served throughout the rest of the war, probably seeing action again with his unit at the Battle of Gingindlovu (2nd April 1879). Though they were not involved in the climactic battle at Ulundi, the 2nd IMI did take part in the search for the fugitive Zulu King Cetewayo after the battle. Butler also got his name in the local press one more time before returning home when a few brief accounts of local men in Zululand were noted in the Sentinel. In it Butler sang the praises of their much-criticised commander-in-chief.

‘Frederick Butler, son of Mr. Butler, of the Bell and Bear lnn, Shelton, writing on July 13th to his parents, makes special reference to the esteem in which Lord Chelmsford is held by the general body of soldiers at the seat of war, observing that they look upon him as “a brave and reliable man.”  He also, speaks the hardships the soldiers have to encounter, but gives also the bright as well the dark side of warfare in Africa.'

Staffordshire Sentinel and Commercial & General Advertiser, Saturday 23rd August 1879. p.4

Butler returned to the 2/24th regiment on 12th September 1879. For his service he was later awarded the South Africa Medal with 1877-78-79 clasp.

After the war Fred Butler remained in the army until the 1880s. After that he returned home to the Potteries and on 23rd August 1888 at Holy Trinity Church, he married Mary Jane Smith. At the time he was residing at 12 Brook Street. The couple would have two children. By 1891 Fred seems to have taken over the running of the Bell and Bear Inn from his father. He may also have joined the local rifle volunteers whose drill hall still stands at the top of College Road, Shelton. In this capacity he got his name in papers yet again in 1889, albeit for all the wrong reasons.

'A DANGEROUS PRACTICE. 

RIFLE SHOOTING AT SHELTON.

 DAMAGES £20. 

At the Hanley County Court on Wednesday, before his Honour Judge Jordan, an action was tried and decided, in which Frank Guildford, an engraver, living in Queen Anne-street, Shelton, sued to recover £50 damages from Fred Butler, William Butler, of the Bell and Bear Inn, Shelton; Sidney Smith, cabinet maker, Piccadilly; and J. W. Ault, sign writer, Snow Hill, for personal injuries. 

Mr. Boddam. instructed by Mr G. H. Hunt, appeared on behalf of the plaintiff; and Mr. Ashmall defended. £10 had been paid into Court, with a denial of liability. 

Mr. Boddam stated that the action was for damages done to the plaintiff being shot by the defendants. - The plaintiff was engraver, and was in the employ of Mr. Fennell, of Mollart-street, Hanley. the 2nd of Mav the defendants were practising shooting in a garden connected with Cleveland House, which was in the possession of Mr. Butler, of the Bell and Bear Inn. They were shooting with a Morris tube, a species of invention with which persons were in the habit of practising shooting at targets. The tube carried a small bullet to a tremendous distance. The plaintiff at the time was walking down the public road at the rear of Cleveland Gardens, and as he was so walking was shot in the head by a bullet, which he thought he (the learned counsel) could clearly demonstrate was projected by one the defendants. Two operations were found to be necessary to get out the bullet, and plaintiff had to remain away from his work for a fortnight. He had sustained a considerable shock to his system. 

The plaintiff stated that about a quarter past one o’clock on the 2nd May he was walking along Lime Kiln Walk with two other persons, when he was hit on the left temple with something. He began to bleed, and found that he had got a hole in his head. Directly afterwards the sound of bullet was heard. It struck some boards near where he was standing, and was afterwards taken out the wood. 

His Honour: The bullet hit plaintiff’s head and grazed it ? 

Mr. Boddam: No; it went in and stayed there. Luckily for the plaintiff his skull was so thick. (Laughter.) 

The plaintiff continued that after seeing the police he went to Mr. Charlesworth who attended him until the end of the month. Mr. Charlesworth took out a portion of the bullet on the 4th May, and the remaining portion on the 20th May. 

Mr. Boddam stated that they had any number of admissions of liability. 

Mr. Ashmall said his clients were anxious to act generously with the plaintiff. 

Mr. J. Charlesworth deposed to extracting the bullet, most of which he took out the 4th May.

His Honour; Let me look at it. 

Mr. Boddam: You will see how admirably it was flattened by the gentleman's skull. (Laughter)

His Honour : A good job for him that he had got so thick a one. 

Mr. Charlesworth proceeded to say that the bullet was very bright and slightly grooved, from which circumstances he concluded that it had hit something else before striking the plaintiff; that in fact it was a richochet shot. The bullet lay one inch from the point of entrance.

His Honour: Was it in a dangerous position ?

Mr. Charlesworth: Not in very dangerous position. The wound was too high to be very dangerous: it struck on the thick part the skull. There would be no permanent injury. 

His Honour observed that the wrong being admitted, the only point for him to consider was the amount damages. 

Mr. Ashmall explained that two of the defendants were volunteers. The garden in which they were practising was ninety-five yards in length. There were palings at the bottom of it. On the other side of these palings was plantation twelve yards deep. This was bordered by another fence and beyond it, before the road was reached, was a field 300 yards in length, also bordered by a railing. The guns were sighted for 100 yards, he suggested that this bullet struck one of the trees, from which it glanced and then hit the plaintiff. There was nothing absolutely illegal in what the defendants were doing, and as soon as inquiries came to be made the defendants went so far to say that they would pay any reasonable compensation. 

His Honour said it was difficult matter to measure damages in a case of this sort. No doubt whatever that the defendants were engaged in a dangerous pursuit, and had they killed the plaintiff, would, he dared say, have been put upon their trial for manslaughter. The damages sustained by plaintiff were not serious, but still it was a dangerous thing to have bullet sent into his head. He thought that in giving a verdict for £20 and costs, he was giving a very moderate sum indeed.' 

Staffordshire Sentinel, Thursday 06 June 1889, p.3

Fred Butler appears to have died quite young, aged 33 in 1891.

References:

Info from Forces War Records and Rorkesdriftvc forum. 

Thanks to 1879zuluwar forum members Kate (a.k.a 'gardner1879'), John Young, '90th' and Julian Whybra for further information on Frederick Butler. 

In Glorious Biocolour

In the early to mid 1920s, a pioneering film maker Claude Friese-Greene and his assistant, drove a car from Land's End to John O'Groats. Using a specially developed process of early colour photography christened 'biocolour', their journey was immortalised in a documentary The Open Road, the purpose of which was to show off the new process. Due to film limitations only a narrow spectrum of blues, greens and reds could be captured by Friese-Greene's method, nevertheless the result was an impressive colourful snapshot of Britain in the 1920s.

To show off his colour photography to its best advantage, Friese-Greene mostly filmed rural scenes, the bucolic imagery of which suited his additive process, but there were occasional forays into industrial areas and one of these was in the Potteries and internal evidence suggests that the visit took place in 1926. After a brief panoramic view of the district from some high vantage point, Friese-Greene then visited the Wedgwood factory at Etruria. Here he found to his delight that he was able to film indoors quite easily due to the large expanse of windows in the workshops. He filmed a thrower at work and paintresses putting finishing touches to the wares. This was followed by a perhaps overlong display of Wedgwood wares from vibrant lustres to the more subdued colours of the famous Portland vase.

Suffice to say, though ingenious, Friese-Greene's technique never took off, losing out to the more versatile Technicolor. As a result, his film went into storage and remained unseen for 80 years until it was restored and aired in 2006 in a BBC documentary entitled The Lost World of Friese-Greene.

Anarchy in Etruria

In early March 1783, the local economy was in decline and people were going hungry. A poor harvest the year before plus the knock-on economic effects of the American Revolutionary War had caused food to become scarce and prices to rise sharply and a number of food riots broke out in Newcastle and the Potteries as a result. The most serious of these took place around the canal at Etruria and may well have been started by some of Josiah Wedgwood's workers.

A view of Wedgwood's Etruria works from across the canal.
From The Life of Josiah Wedgwood (1865) by Eliza Meteyard.

There had been some trouble in Newcastle for several days and the rioters there seem to have joined or inspired the riot that broke out at Etruria on Friday 7th March. The trouble started when a barge carrying much-needed supplies of cheese and flour moored up at Etruria where the food was to be off-loaded before being distributed around the Potteries. However, at the last moment the barge's owners decided to send the boat on to Manchester. Within a short time of this decision shop owners in Hanley and Shelton heard the news and they in turn informed their angry customers. They had probably heard about the barge's departure from some of Wedgwood's own workers, certainly that suspicion was voiced in a letter written by Josiah Wedgwood junior, son of the famous potter. Later that same day Josiah junior wrote to his father - who was then in London on business - describing how when the news spread about the departing barge, several hundred men women and children had quickly gathered and chased after it along the canal, finally catching up with it at Longport. Believing that the boat had been sent away to increase the scarcity of provisions and thus up the prices even more, the crowd were in a black mood and not to be trifled with, so when they found that the bargee would not pull the boat over one of the crowd leapt aboard to tackle him. The boatman immediately cut the tow rope and slashed at the man with his knife and voices from the crowd on the towpath called out “Put him in the canal.” A ducking may well have been the man's fate had not another bargee come to his rescue and he had been able to escape onto another craft, albeit leaving his own barge in the hands of the mob as he did so.

The captured boat was then hauled it back to Etruria in triumph and by late afternoon was tied up alongside Wedgwood's Etruria works where the crowd unloaded the cargo into the factory's crate shop. Most of the rioters then went home meaning to return the next day for distribution of the goods. In the meantime a few men were set as guards. At about 7.30 that evening four of these sauntered up to Etruria Hall and asked for something to eat and drink while they were on watch. Another of the Wedgwood children, Josiah's older brother, 17 year old John went to them and stood talking with them for a time then too did their mother Sarah Wedgwood who also spoke with them for a while before the men went off. The nervousness of the Wedgwood household at this point is, evident in young Josiah's hasty missive to his father, but the family were not bothered any further that evening and at breakfast the next day things were still quiet.

A considered account of what happened next is difficult to come by, certainly none seem to have been carried by newspapers of the time. However, two anonymous letters were circulated by the press which – though they vary in details – give a rough idea of how events unfolded thereafter.

On the Saturday morning the crowd gathered back at the canal side and some of the goods seized the day before were sold off at what were considered by the crowd to be more reasonable prices. One of the letters states that this was at two-thirds the normal price, while sometimes the goods were given away. The meagre proceeds were then handed over to the disgruntled owners of the captive barge. The authorities meanwhile had taken steps to deal with the rioters. An express message had been sent to Lichfield asking for some companies of the Staffordshire Militia to come to their aid. Closer at hand, though, were a company of the Carmarthen Militia who that day had arrived in Newcastle on their way back to Wales. Due to the troubles in Newcastle itself and now in Etruria, the commanding officer was asked if he could help in dealing with the rioters. He agreed, and the force put itself at the disposal of the local magistrates who now had the job of quelling the disturbances.

Some justices went to meet with the mob still gathered around the captured boat, but the Militia were kept at a distance while the officials tried to settle matters peacefully. Here the letters are at odds with one another, one stating that all efforts to get the mob to disperse, including getting the master potters (whose workers formed the bulk of the mob) to try and influence them, but to no avail, while the other letter states that the magistrates' efforts were a success and that the mob agreed to leave, providing the boat was left where it was. Judging by the fact that several days later the mob was demanding the return of the boat the latter seems the most likely state of affairs, but the details still remain confused.

Nothing of great significance seems to have happened on the Sunday, though some of the local manufacturers and officials held a crisis meeting at Newcastle to discuss how best to calm the situation down and deal with the mob. A subscription was entered into perhaps to placate the rioters, Josiah Wedgwood's son John was present at the meeting and donated £10 to the fund. But after the quiet Sunday, Monday saw a return to the stand-off of previous days as the mob gathered at Etruria once more. This time they were in a far more bullish mood and sent messengers to the magistrates outlining their demands, namely to have the boat delivered back to them and its contents sold there.

After a quiet Sunday, Monday saw a return to the stand-off as the mob gathered once more, this time outside Billington's (probably the premises of Richard Billington, who carted coals for Wedgwood and rented 38 acres of the Etruria estate), where there was a meeting of the master potters and several officials. These included John Wedgwood in his father's stead, Dr Falkener of Lichfield, Mr Ing and Mr John Sneyd of Belmont (a neighbour of the Wedgwoods), who harangued the mob on their bad behaviour and the detrimental effect it would have on the price of corn, as too did John Wedgwood and Major Walter Sneyd of the Staffordshire Militia. The latter was there at the head of a detachment of the Staffordshire Militia, who stood by ready if needed. The masters and officials though still hoped that the rioters would listen to reason and a generous subscription was again raised, John Wedgwood giving £20 this time. The mob, though, did not accept this graciously remarking caustically that the money would not have been provided had they not caused trouble and made the manufacturers sit up and pay attention. They continued calling for the boat to be returned to them and the corn to be sold on fairly. Their demands became so loud and threatening that the Riot Act was read out and the mob was told that if they did not disperse to their homes in an hour's time, that the Militia would be ordered to fire on them. The crowd, though, were defiant, jeering that the militia men dared not fire on them and that if they did then the rioters would attack and destroy Keele Hall, the ancestral home of the Sneyd family of Major Sneyd was the current heir. According to some accounts the rioters also put their women and children at the front confident that the soldiers could not fire on them.

Despite this, after the hour had passed, the chief magistrate Dr Falkener was apparently on the verge of ordering the nervous militiamen to fire, when two of the rioters accidently fell down and made him pause and consider his actions. One of the Sneyds, huzzaring as he did so, got about 30 of the men to follow him, intending perhaps to charge the mob, but his effort was thwarted by women in the crowd who called out, “Nay, nay, that wunna do, that wunna do.” and embarrassed by the mocking cries the militiamen baulked, turned back and left the crowd alone. Unable or unwilling to take firm action, the officials agreed that the corn taken in the boat should be sold on at a fair price. And for now that was that and the crowd had their way. The magistrates, though, were now determined to make the leaders of the riot pay for the trouble they had caused and to bring the disturbances to an end once and for all.

Two of the ringleaders of the mob had been quickly identified as Stephen Barlow and Joseph Boulton. According to report, Barlow was born in Hanley Green, was aged about 38 and seems to have had a chequered history prior to the riots, having apparently served in the Staffordshire Militia, but had been drummed out for bad behaviour. He may also have had previous with the law as records show that four years earlier at the Epiphany Assizes at Stafford of 1779, one Stephen Barlow was in court for some unspecified crime he had committed in Penkridge. At some point he had married and by 1783 was the father of four small children and was living in Etruria. The authorities certainly knew where to look for him and that night after the riot, magistrates and constables converged on his house. On hearing the men at the door, Barlow quit his bed naked and attempted to escape by climbing up the chimney. He probably would have got away except that in his haste he dislodged some bricks and when his pursuers came out to see what was happening they caught sight of him hiding on the roof behind the chimney stack. When he was brought down, Barlow refused to get dressed and though it was a cold night suffered himself to be transported stark naked all the way from Etruria to Newcastle. After subsequently being taken to Stafford Gaol, Stephen Barlow was held there until his trial.

So too was Joseph Boulton, but he remains a shadowy figure in this drama as nothing seems to be known of his background. Beyond noting that two ringleaders had been captured at home that night and sent to Stafford gaol, his name was not mentioned in contemporary newspapers, though John Wedgwood who was at Stafford to witness the trial wrote to his father in London and noted that the man had been acquitted by the court. Stephen Barlow, on the other hand was not so lucky. The judge in summing up at the trial on 15^th March, detailed Barlow's offence and laid out the law regarding riots in the clear and clinical manner of the Riot Act. “That all persons to the number of twelve or more, who remain in any place in a tumultuous manner after proclamation has been made for the space of one hour, subject themselves to an indictment for capital felony. “ In other words, the death sentence.

The message this sent out was clear, namely those hundreds who had assembled and been involved in the rioting on 10^th March, most of whom had since either fled the area or had thus far escaped detection, were just as guilty as Barlow and could expect the same treatment if caught and convicted. Barlow meanwhile was sentenced to death without a quibble and on Monday 17^th March 1783, exactly a week after the riot, at Sandyford near Stafford, he was escorted to the gallows by a body of militia and there he was hung by the neck until he was dead. His body was then returned to the Potteries and buried locally two days later.

It had been a startlingly quick chain of events which did indeed have the desired effect quelling any further disturbances, but it perhaps shocked many law-abiding citizens too, disturbed by such arbitrary use of the law. Looking back from over half a century later even local historian John Ward - who as a solicitor had very little sympathy with rioters – seems to have been taken aback by this blatant show trial. Writing about Stephen Barlow, he noted that he 'became a victim rather to the public safety, than to the heinousness of his crime.' According to some accounts Barlow was not the only victim, as more than one paper reported briefly that following the execution, Barlow's wife hung herself in despair.

Josiah Wedgwood though was not so understanding. The danger the riot had presented to his family, estate and pot bank had shaken him and being a noted disciplinarian where his own workforce was concerned, the likelihood that many of them had been involved in the troubles doubtless rankled. On returning to the Potteries and hearing in detail what had gone on, Wedgwood felt compelled to put pen to paper and produced a short tract entitled An Address to the Young Inhabitants of the Pottery in which he hoped to quell any future disturbances by attempting to explain the wrong-headedness of the rioters and to examine and dismiss their supposed grievances. Though couched as a well-meaning sermon to soothe young minds, the piece arguably comes across as being rather sanctimonious given the recent circumstances; the musings of a rich man offering up self-serving arguments to poor people who simply wanted food.

Reference: John Ward, The Borough of Stoke-Upon-Trent, pp. 445-446; Ann Finer and George Savage (Eds.), The Selected Letters of Josiah Wedgwood p.268: Correspondence of Josiah Wedgwood, Vol. 3, pp. 8-9; Derby Mercury, Thursday 13 March 1783, p.3; Cumberland Pacquet and Ware's Whitehaven Advertiser, Tuesday 25 March 1783, p.3; Manchester Mercury, Tuesday 25 March 1783, p.1; Kentish Gazette, Saturday 29 March 1783, p.3; Northampton Mercury, Monday 24 March 1783, p.3; Stamford Mercury, Thursday 27 March 1783, p.2; Ipswich Journal, Saturday 22 March 1783, p.1; Hereford Journal, Thursday 3 April 1783, p.3.