Buffalo Bill Rides in... and Bows Out

Buffalo Bill and some of the Red Indians in 1890
Source: Wikimedia Commons

On 17 August 1891, former hunter and US army scout turned impresario, William Cody, better known as Buffalo Bill, opened his 'Wild West Show' for the first of six days of performances in the Potteries. The show was making a tour of Britain and had arrived from Sheffield several days earlier in three trains comprising 76 carriages, bearing 250 performers, several hundred horses and dozens of bison. Cody and his company also brought enough scaffolding with them to build a pavilion that could seat 15,000 spectators, which was quickly constructed not far from the train station in Stoke by local workers. A Red Indian village was also built nearby for the many native American performers and their families, which became a great attraction during their stay. In the main pavilion there were two shows a day at 3pm and 6pm and though it rained on the first day the weather improved as the week went on. Sure enough, as elsewhere, thousands of local people turned up to watch the likes of Annie Oakley with her sharp shooting, cowboys riding bucking broncos and especially the Red Indians riding around the pavilion, whooping their war cries as they attacked stage coaches or a pioneer cabin. At the end of each performance, Buffalo Bill himself, elegantly clad in his buckskin suit, rode into the arena mounted on a white horse and was wildly cheered by the crowd as he made his parting bow.

Thirteen years later on 21 October 1904, the people of the Potteries witnessed the last ever performance by 'Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show' to be held in Britain. The season had started here earlier that year on 25 April, most of the animals and some of the cowboys and stable hands having overwintered at Etruria, while the bulk of the company had gone home. Now after their last tour of the country, the show made a return to the area prior to departing for the Continent. They signed off with two final performances held on this day at the Agricultural Show Fields at Birches Head. The evening performance attracted a crowd of 12,500 people and at the end of the show the performers were bid goodbye by the audience spontaneously singing Auld Lang Syne.  

Reference: Staffordshire Sentinel, 17 – 18 August 1891; Staffordshire Sentinel, 22 October 1904.

Victim of a Mineshaft

At about 6.50 am on 12 December 1903, Thomas Holland, a 56 year old candle maker was walking along St John Street, Hanley, en route to his workplace in Charles Street, when the pavement suddenly caved in beneath him and he plunged to his death down a long forgotten mine shaft. Walking only a few yards behind Mr Holland that morning, was Joseph Pritchard a sanitaryware presser at Twyford’s, who was also on his way to work and was the only witness to what happened. Despite the fanciful stories that sprang up over the next few days about Holland plunging to his death whilst singing a prophetic Sunday School hymn, Mr Prichard’s account of the man’s demise was much more prosaic. Speaking to reporters only hours after the tragedy, he recalled how they had both been quietly walking along the street when the man in front of him ‘went all of a sudden. His arms went out, he went face forwards and the sudden fall jerked his basket into the gutter hole.’

As it was still pretty dark, Mr Prichard had not clearly seen what had happened and rushed forward thinking that the man had suffered a fit. Only when he bent down towards a dark patch on the pavement thinking it was the fallen figure, did he hear the sound of rocks tumbling down the pit shaft and the awful truth dawned on him.

A small crowd of residents and other early morning workers soon gathered around the hole, one of whom warned the Powell family in the nearest house, number 34, not to come out of their front door. Police, borough workmen and mine officials from Hanley Deep Pit were called and soon arrived on the scene with lamps and ropes hoping to effect a rescue, or to at least recover a body, but a lamp lowered down into the hole soon went out indicating that the mine was full of blackdamp or chokedamp, a lethal mix of carbon dioxide and nitrogen. By this time inquiries had identified the missing man as Thomas Holland and his family had been informed, but given the depth of the shaft and the presence of gas, there was no chance that he was alive and as a result his body was never recovered. Two days later with his family’s permission, a funeral service watched by thousands of people was held over the pit shaft, then contractors moved in to fill in the hole.

The tragedy caused a sensation in the district and a meeting was quickly arranged between Hanley Town Council, local colliery officials, foremen and workmen, H. M. Inspector of Mines and the Chief Constable. Here, in the light of a number of other incidents outlined in the meeting, it was decided that a thorough investigation would be made into the dangers posed by old pit shafts in the Potteries.

The danger was real enough. For decades the locals had known and accepted the risks. In the mid-1880s, builders converting the old Queen’s Hotel into Hanley Town Hall had discovered an old shaft, which they put to good use by dumping rubble down it. Local historian Henry Wedgwood mentioned old exposed pit shafts protected only by flimsy wooden barriers and Arnold Bennett had used such a shaft to dispose of the love-lorn Willie Price at the end of his novel Anna of the Five Towns, published a year earlier. Now a Sentinel report revealed a catalogue of near-misses prior to the tragedy. There were trees that had vanished down holes in the ground in Hanley Park; the story of a drayman who watched in horrified astonishment as a rolling barrel of beer had suddenly plunged down a hole that opened up before him in Market Square, Hanley. A Port Vale player had also narrowly avoided death when a part of the Burslem Park pitch caved in just after he had passed over it. The investigation that followed identified where old pit shafts and workings were located and how they had been covered or filled in. In Hanley alone over twenty shafts, mostly covered with wood, were discovered and subsequently bricked over. 

Reference: Staffordshire Sentinel, 12-16 December 1903.

Vinegar and Vanity

Some of the unusual and dangerous practices indulged in by teenage girls to make themselves look attractive, were highlighted in 1901 in the tragic case of 15 year old Florence Henrietta Burton of Longton, who met an untimely end in the pursuit of beauty.

Florence was the youngest of four children born in late 1885 to coal miner Samuel Burton and his wife Harriet. Her father had died a few years after Florence’s birth and her mother had remarried, though by 1901, she was again a widow living at 3 Adam Place, Longton with her 18 year old son John Thomas Burton a potter’s presser, Florence who was a potter’s gilder, and an elderly boarder. The census was the last official document to record Florence alive, as the final act of a bizarre drama was playing out in the Burton family home.

For some time her mother Harriet had been getting increasingly worried about Florence, who had started drinking large amounts of vinegar and eating lemons. She had spoken to her daughter about it, but to no avail, the girl would scarcely eat anything without pickles or something else acidic. Florence’s friend Julia Brain later revealed that she knew that Florence had obtained large quantities of lemons from a local fruit shop ‘on trust’ and said that she had also seen her pour out a glass of vinegar, pour salt into it and drink it. When quizzed as to the reason for this Julia said it was to try and make her complexion ‘pale and nice’ giving her skin a translucent quality to make her more attractive; but in truth Florence’s beauty regime was gradually killing her. The end came suddenly in June 1901 when Florence was at work and suffered chest pains that made her so ill that she had to go back home. Once there she reportedly suffered a fit and died shortly afterwards.

As a result of her sudden death, a post-mortem was carried out by a Dr Howells, who reported to the inquest into the girl’s death that Florence had died due to heart disease caused by her unusual diet. Her practice of consuming large amounts of vinegar, salt and lemons would, he said, ‘disorganise the whole system, upset digestion and cause the person to be half-starved, though well and apparently well nourished.’

The Coroner, clearly flabbergasted by what he had heard, asked the surgeon, “Why do girls do these things?” Dr Howells answered, “To make them pale and interesting-looking. They like to look transparent.” - “And it kills them?” - “It does.” The Coroner commented on the folly of such practices and the jury returned a verdict of ‘Death from Natural Causes.’ 

Reference: Birmingham Mail, 28 June 1901, p.4; Coventry Evening Telegraph 28 June 1901, p.2.)

Murder in Mind

During a visit to Liverpool, a financially insecure pottery manufacturer, Theophilus Smith of Tunstall, asked one of his creditors, a merchant named Peter Wainwright, to return to the Potteries with him for a meeting. Very early in the morning of 21 June 1800, after travelling most of the way back to Tunstall, Smith stopped their carriage near to his home Smithfield Hall and said to Mr Wainwright that they should proceed the remaining short distance across the fields on foot. The two men were seemingly on good terms and had enjoyed a pleasant ride despite the distance, but as they crossed the field in the half-light before dawn, suddenly and without warning Smith drew a gun from his pocket. Thinking that the desperate potter was about to shoot himself, Wainwright pounced on the man, wrestled the gun out of his hand and threw it away. The crisis seemed to be over, but moments later as they continued their walk, Smith drew another pistol and fired at Mr Wainwright, but missed. The two men fought and Smith was thrown to the ground and begged forgiveness of his would-be victim. Evidently stunned by events, Wainwright relented and even let Smith get up and go to collect a coat he had left behind after leaving the coach, never thinking that Smith may have another pistol hidden there which he produced as they neared his home and shot Wainwright through the body just below the stomach. Though badly wounded Peter Wainwright again fought back, but Smith then drew a knife and the merchant received numerous cuts to his hands and jawline before he finally threw his attacker off. Smith then retreated to his house, leaving the badly injured man to stagger several hundred yards to a neighbouring cottage for help. Doctors were called who at first despaired of his wounds, but against the odds Mr Wainwright survived, though he spent several weeks recovering from his ordeal. 

Smithfield Hall c. 1794. Detail of an engraving by W. C. Wilson after an illustration by E. Dayes.
The field in the foreground may be where Theophilus Smith attacked Peter Wainwright.
(Author's collection)

The alarm was immediately raised and constables raced to Smithfield Hall to arrest Theophilus Smith, but he had already fled his home and 50 guineas were offered for his capture. This was achieved a little time later in London where Smith was arrested in his lodgings by the Bow Street Runners. Sent for trial at Stafford Smith was sentenced to hang, but he cheated the hangman when on New Years Day 1801, whilst in the hospital at Stafford Gaol and having by some means got his hands on a couple of pistols, he shot and wounded his wife who was visiting him, then shot himself through the head, dying instantly. Fortunately Theophilus Smith was the only fatality of his two murderous assaults as like Mr Wainwright, Smith's wife survived the attack. 

It has been suggested that this final act and Smith's earlier attack on Mr Wainwright were because he suspected that Wainwright and his wife were lovers, though there seems to be no clear evidence to support this. 

Reference: Staffordshire Advertiser, 12 July 1800, p.3; 19 July 1800, p.4; 2 August 1800, p.3; 3 January 1801, p.4; The Annual Register 1800, Vol. 42.

Lights in the Night Sky

During a spate of UFO reports across North Staffordshire, a large number of witnesses around Beverley Drive and Wendline Close in Bentilee reported seeing a large, brightly-lit saucer-shaped object soar overhead shortly after 9 pm on 2 September 1967 and land in the fields at the far end of the Close, where it lit up the surrounding area like a bonfire. The object, described by witnesses as a dark orange disk surmounted with a glowing red dome, was then seen to hop from one field to another, attracting more onlookers as it did so. The police were called and before the object vanished the officers did witness unusual lights as the ‘saucer’ took off, but could draw no conclusions, suspecting that they were simply car lights. Two amateur investigators Roger Stanway and Anthony Pace later interviewed the witnesses and compiled a detailed report of the incident. 

Reference: Roger H. Stanway & Anthony R. Pace: Flying saucer report. UFOs, unidentified, undeniable. (1968). 

Ghastly Relics - A Very Tall Tale of the Potteries

Occasionally, stories related to the Potteries appeared in newspapers both in Britain and abroad that either cannot be proven (at least not yet), grew in the telling, or are so ridiculous that they had obviously been made up. The infamous story of the 'Man and Dog fight' peddled by journalist James Greenwood in 1874 would arguably fall into this category except that scandal it caused and the eventual  unravelling of the tale make for an interesting bit of local history in itself outside of Greenwood's work of fiction. 

At least Greenwood's tale initially had the gloss of truth to it and showed some imagination. Some stories though are simply the bits of nonsensical fluff that authors or reporters throughout history have concocted simply to fill up space. These often sensationalist tales were then repeated verbatim through syndication in other books or papers. The preposterous 'Ghastly Relics of Waterloo' is a prime example of the latter.

 Ghastly Relics of Waterloo.

(Cor. Boston Traveller)

'For the truth of the incident related below I have the most possible proof: George Shaw, a brave Englishman, when surrounded on the field at Waterloo by a number of the enemy, made a gallant struggle for existence, and fought his way back to his comrades over the dead bodies of a dozen Frenchmen whom he had slain. As a reward for his bravery, Wellington sent for the soldier, and in the course of his conversation with him, gave him permission to take home with him whatever relic he chose from the battlefield. Shaw's choice was the skeleton of a French General, killed in the action. The ghastly trophy was safely transported to England and hung in the soldier's closet at Hanley and Staffordshire, England, till he came to regard it is a nuisance and disposed of it to Samuel Bullock, a manufacturer of china. As bones form a large proportion of the ingredients from which English china is made, it occurred to the manufacturer that the remains of the poor General would look much better made up in some handsome ornament than dangling from a peg in an obscure closet; and in accordance with this inspiration, the French General was ground down, and, in due time, was metamorphosed into teacups and saucers; in which condition he adorns to this day the museum at Hawley, appropriately inscribed with the history of his transformation. It happened one day that Marshal Soult visited the museum, and his attention was attracted by the china, which has a bright pink tint and is ornamented with flowers. But when his eye rested upon the label, which enabled him to recognize in the collection the remains of one of his former generals, the marshal was deeply shocked; and, "wrapping his martial cloak around him," walked indignantly away. He did not forget to inform Napoleon, then at St. Helena, of the indignity which had been offered to the memory of their departed countryman. "It is no indignity," quoth Napoleon; "what more pleasing disposition can there be of one's bones after death than to be made into cups to be constantly in use; and placed between the rosy lips of ladies? The thought is delightful!" This was an aspect of the case which had net occurred to the prosaic marshal; but he was forced to content himself with it.'

The story seems to be a bare-faced mix of fact and fantasy the exploits of 'George Shaw' mimicking somewhat the story of Corporal John Shaw, a noted pugilist and artists' model who served with the Life Guards at Waterloo, where he was killed fighting several French cavalrymen. 

Reference: numerous US newspapers, see for instance The Somerset Press (Somerset, Ohio) 11 December 1879, p.1

England Expects

'The Battle of Trafalgar' by William Clarkson Stanfield
Source: Wikimedia Commons

On 21 October 1805, a British fleet of 27 ships commanded by Admiral Horatio Nelson caught up with and attacked a combined Franco-Spanish fleet of 33 ships off Cape Trafalgar between Cadiz and the Strait of Gibraltar. In the battle that followed, Nelson was mortally wounded by a sharpshooter, but before he died he heard the news that his fleet had inflicted a devastating defeat on the enemy force, capturing 20 ships, thus ending for good any lingering threat of a French invasion of Britain. It was also a victory that established British naval dominance for the next century. 

Admiralty records held at The National Archives in Kew, clearly show that despite hailing from so landlocked a region several men from the Potteries were involved in this decisive sea battle. Two of them served together aboard Nelson’s flagship, HMS Victory.

Corporal William Taft, Royal Marines, HMS Victory

Depending on which of his records you believe, William Taft, was born in Hanley Green (present-day Hanley town centre) in either 1775 or 1777, though the earlier date seems the most likely. There is no trace of his birth or of his parents locally, though their records like many others may have been lost when the registers of St John’s church in Hanley were destroyed in the Pottery Riots in 1842. Army and Royal Marine records, though, make up the deficit somewhat and through them we learn that William was the son of Ralph and Hannah Taft. In his teens he worked briefly as a potter, before he enlisted in the army in early 1793, joining the 11th Light Dragoons. He served with that regiment for just over two years before transferring to the 27th Light Dragoons on 25 April 1795. Records show that he was a smallish man being only 5’ 4¼” tall, (he was listed as 5’ 5” as a Royal Marine) with a fresh complexion, dark brown hair and brown eyes and the fact that he always signed with his mark reveals that like many common soldiers he was illiterate. Military life seemed to agree with him, though, and Taft remained with the 27th Light Dragoons until 20 October 1801, when for reasons unspecified he was invalided out of the service.

For a time Taft found employment as a labourer, but was soon drawn back to military service, though not this time in the army, enlisting instead in the Royal Marines at Rochester (probably the town in Kent) on 13 April 1803, where he joined Nº16 Company of the Chatham Division. Four days later Private Taft was posted as part of the marine detachment aboard HMS Victory. This big three decker first-rate ship of the line had just undergone an expensive reconstruction at Chatham dockyard and with its new crew on board in May it set sail for Portsmouth. Once there, the ship was joined by Vice-Admiral Horatio Nelson who chose Victory as his flagship.

The ship was in the Mediterranean when on 5 March 1805, William Taft was raised to corporal and he served in that capacity during Nelson’s dash across the Atlantic in pursuit of the Franco-Spanish fleet and later at Trafalgar. As the lead ship of the weather division, Victory was in the thick of the action from the beginning of the battle, crippling the French ship Bucentaure with it’s first broadside before becoming involved in a protracted fight with another French ship Redoutable and the ship’s company suffered many casualties as a result, most notably Admiral Nelson, who was shot by a French marksman and taken below where he subsequently died. Corporal Taft was another of the injured, badly wounded in the upper left arm during the fighting; his shattered limb could not be saved and was amputated at the neck of the humerus (i.e., just below the shoulder ball joint). Surviving the fight, the amputation and a violent storm that nearly wrecked the battered warships after the battle, Taft was admitted to the hospital in Gibraltar on 29 October 1805, being formally dismissed from Victory’s crew on 4 November 1805. On 10 January 1806, Taft was transferred to the hospital ship Sussex for transport home and just over a month later on 11 February and presumably back in Britain, he was discharged at headquarters. Only three other documents list his progress after that; on 3 March he was dismissed from the Royal Marines as an invalid and the next day he received a pension of £8. Then on 7 April in the Rough Entry Book for Pensioners we learn that he was a married man and was lodging at the Wheat Sheaf, Market Place, Greenwich. His fate after that is unknown.

Like all the surviving sailors and Marines who fought at Trafalgar, William Taft was also awarded prize money of £1 17s 8d and granted a Parliamentary award of £4 12s 6d. Presumably because of his career-ending injury, Taft also received £40 from the Lloyds Patriotic Fund.

Private William Bagley, Royal Marines, HMS Victory

William Bagley was born in Stoke in about 1774, though nothing is known about his parents, nor much about his early years, though at some point prior to serving in the Royal Marines he spent 4 years and six months as a soldier in the 4th Dragoons. He seems to have been married, certainly he had a daughter named Susannah who later lived in Hanley, but there are no local records of who William’s wife was, nor of Susannah, these again may have been victims of the records burnt in the riots in 1842. After his army service William may have returned to the Potteries as he was listed as having worked as a potter prior to joining the Royal Marines.

He enlisted in the Royal Marines on the same day as William Taft, 13 April 1803, and although Bagley was posted to Company 7 of the Chatham Division there seems to have been a connection between the two men, perhaps they were friends. It is notable too that after Bagley and William Taft were both posted to HMS Victory on 17 April, they were always listed together, Bagley and then Taft, in the ship’s muster roll. On his enlistment William Bagley was described as being 5’ 10” tall, with dark hair and a fresh complexion.

Unlike Taft, Bagley was never promoted, but he was much luckier during the battle of Trafalgar and survived the encounter uninjured. After the battle Victory was towed to Gibraltar for repairs before returning to Britain in December 1805. Bagley was discharged from the ship on 17 January 1806 at Chatham, but on 26 January he suffered a serious fall at headquarters and died from his injuries. He did not collect his prize money from the battle which was donated to the Greenwich hospital, while his personal effects were returned to his daughter Susannah in Hanley.

Private Richard Beckett, Royal Marines, HMS Royal Sovereign

Private Richard Beckett was a 24 year old from Burslem, 5’ 6” tall with light hair a fair complexion and grey eyes and prior to enlisting had worked locally as a potter. He had enlisted in the Royal Marines at Stafford on 2 May 1803 and served for 7 months with the Chatham Division before being moved to the Portsmouth Division where on 31 August 1805 he was posted as part of the Royal Marine detachment aboard HMS Royal Sovereign. Like Victory, this ship was a first-rate three decker and at Trafalgar she served as the flagship of Admiral Cuthbert Collingwood, the second-in-command of the fleet. The ship had recently had her keel re-coppered and as a result she was a very fast sailer, a fact which showed as she led the lee squadron of the fleet into battle, racing ahead of the other British ships and being the first to break the enemy line. 

For most of the battle Royal Sovereign fought with a Spanish ship the Santa Ana. Both vessels suffered heavy casualties before the Santa Ana surrendered, but Private Beckett was uninjured. Like everyone in the fleet he was entitled to prize money, £1 17s 8d in his case, but did not collect it and the money was instead donated to the Greenwich hospital. He did, though pick up the Parliamentary award of £4 12s 6d given to men of his rank. He was illiterate and signed his mark.

Private Joseph Sergeant, Royal Marines, HMS Prince

Joseph Sergeant was born in Clayton in about 1775 or 1776. He worked briefly as a glazier, but on 10 January 1798 at Kidderminster he enlisted in the Royal Marines. On his enlistment he was described as 5’ 5” tall with brown hair and a fresh complexion. A member of Company 37 of the Chatham Division on 22 December 1803, Sergeant joined the marine contingent aboard HMS Prince a second-rate ship of the line attached to the Channel Fleet which by October 1805 was part of Nelson’s fleet set to engage the Franco-Spanish fleet at Trafalgar. A slow ship, Prince was passed by most of her division as they sailed into battle and by the time the ship arrived at the fighting the battle was nearly over, though opening fire on a couple of enemy ships Prince managed to set fire to and de-mast the French ship Achille. Prince launched boats to rescue Achille’s crew and managed this before the ship exploded. HMS Prince suffered no damage and took no casualties and proved herself a real godsend in the week of storms that followed the battle, rescuing numerous crews from sinking ships and transporting then safely to Gibraltar before going back for more.

Sergeant received his share of the prize money of £1 17s 8d from the battle but did not collect the healtheier parliamentary award and the money went to the Greenwich hospital. He stayed aboard HMS Prince and just over a year later on 12 November 1806, he was promoted to the rank of corporal of 58 Company. On 20 December 1808 he was promoted once more to sergeant of 55 Company. He remained in the Royal Marines until he was disbanded from the service on 13 September 1814. What happened to him after that, though, is unknown.

Private William Shield, Royal Marines, HMS Defiance

William Shield was born in Newcastle, Staffordshire in about 1778 and initially worked as a papermaker. He enlisted in the Royal Marines at Banbury on 14 July 1803 and attached to Company 101 of the Portsmouth Division. Only nine days later he was assigned to HMS Defiance, a remarkably short amount of time, which may indicate that Shield already possessed some military experience. He was described as being 5’ 5” tall with light hair, light eyes and a fair complexion.

HMS Defiance was a nimble 74 gun third-rate ship of the line that prior to Trafalgar saw action at the battle of Cape Finisterre on 22 July 1805. At Trafalgar the ship captured two enemy vessels, storming the French ship Aigle with a full boarding party. Defiance suffered serious casualties as a result with 57 killed and 153 wounded, but Shield managed to get through the battle uninjured.

Shield collected £1 17s and 8d, his share of the prize money and stayed in the service until he was discharged on 16 October 1815 with ‘impared sight’. What course his life took after this is unknown, but he was still alive in 1847 when he applied for and received the Naval General Service Medal with the Trafalgar Clasp.

John Bitts, Landsman, HMS Naiad

John Bitts claimed to have been born in Stoke, Staffordshire, but as with many of the other men here nothing is known of his background or family, no local records mention him. He was aged 24 at the time of the battle of Trafalgar which puts his date of birth in 1781 or 1780. He seems to have been illiterate, signing with his mark and no indication is given as to how he had ended up in the navy, save that he joined the crew of the Naiad on 17 March 1803 as a volunteer. His ship was part of Nelson’s fleet at Trafalgar, but being a small frigate Naiad kept out of the fighting between the bigger ships, though she was involved in the mopping up after the fighting ended. He escaped the battle uninjured and unlike many Bitts claimed both the prize money of £1 17s 8d and the Parliamentary award of £4 12s 6d. Nothing is known of his life and career after Trafalgar.

John Williams, Carpenter’s Crew, HMS Leviathan

According to his navy records, John Williams was born in Stoke, Staffordshire, in about 1778, but nothing more is known about his early life. The records state that he had been pressed into the navy and that prior to joining the Leviathan on 24 February 1803, he had served aboard the frigate HMS Pegasus in the Mediterranean. As part of the carpenter’s crew, Williams would have worked to keep the ship in a good seaworthy condition. The Leviathan was a 74 gun third rate ship of the line and at Trafalgar was one of the ships of the weather squadron that followed HMS Victory into battle, where she captured a Spanish vessel. Williams got through the battle uninjured and later received prize money of £1 17s 8d.

Reference: The National Archives, ADM 44 Dead Seamen's Effects; ADM 73 Rough Entry Book of Pensioners; ADM 82 Chatham Chest: ADM 102.