A Titanic Engineer

Stoke-on-Trent's best known connection with the Titanic disaster is of course the ship's venerable skipper, Captain E. J. Smith, but a less well-known Potteries-born sailor who also perished in the Titanic disaster was Senior Fourth Engineer Leonard Hodgkinson. At the time of his death he was 46 years old, and like Captain Smith had spent most of his adult life at sea, albeit in a far different environment to that of his much more famous shipmate. As a member of the ship’s engineering staff, his working life was one spent for the most part in noisy, hot engine rooms, with little view of sea or sky save when he was off duty.

Leonard was born at 20 North Street, Stoke-upon-Trent, on 20 February 1866, the second son and fifth child of potter’s presser John Hodgkinson and his wife Caroline nee Steele. Educated at St Thomas’ School, Stoke, before the age of 15, Leonard was apprenticed as an engine fitter with Messrs Hartley, Arnoux and Fanning, in Stoke. Once his apprenticeship was done, Leonard left the Potteries sometime in the 1880’s and took up a position with Messrs Lairds of Birkenhead, lodging with his elder sister Rose, her husband Henry Mulligan and their children, who had settled in Liverpool sometime after their marriage in 1877. It was in Liverpool that Leonard met his wife-to-be, Sarah Clarke. The couple were married in West Derby, Liverpool on 14 February 1891 and within a few years the couple had three children.

North Street, Stoke

Leonard was now a seagoing marine engineer. He served for five years with the Beaver Line, whose ships sailed from Liverpool to Quebec and Montreal. In 1894, though, the Beaver Line went into liquidation and it may have been at this point that Leonard left and joined Rankin, Gilmour and Co., Ltd, which firm he also served with for five years, earning his first class certificate in the process. He may also have served with the Saint Line of ships which were owned by Rankin and Co., most of which carried the ‘Saint -’ title. Leonard’s final position with the company was as chief engineer aboard a ship with just such a title, the Saint Jerome.

For a few years between 1901 and 1905, Leonard quit the sea and set himself up in business ashore as a mechanical engineer, but in May 1905, he returned to his old line of work, joining the White Star Line, serving first as assistant engineer on the Celtic, later earning promotion to fourth and then third engineer.

According to family lore, Leonard Hodgkinson was keen to serve on as many vessels as possible before retirement, so was doubtless pleased after what appears to have been a six year stint aboard the Celtic, to be transferred over to the glamorous new Olympic (the Titanic's elder sister) when that ship came on-line in June 1911. Here he was briefly bumped back down to assistant engineer, but soon earned promotion to fourth engineer once again. Perhaps more troublesome for him and his family was the fact that the Olympic was to sail from Southampton. There is no indication that the whole Hodgkinson family moved to Southampton at this time, though it is a possibility, but if not, then Leonard had to put up at lodgings in between journeys and perhaps only got to see his family on a few occasions when he could make the journey back to Liverpool.

It was in early 1912, that Leonard travelled to Belfast where he joined the staff under Chief Engineer Joseph Bell, who were involved in getting the Olympic’s younger sister Titanic up and running. On 2 April he was signed onto the ship’s books for the delivery trip from Belfast to Southampton and on 6 April he was signed on once again in Southampton, now as senior fourth engineer.

A White Star engineer

As senior fourth engineer, Leonard Hodgkinson was the highest ranking of the five fourth engineers aboard the Titanic, one of whom was a specialist in charge of the ship’s refrigeration equipment. Whilst at sea their duties involved checking that the adjustments and routine maintenance of the ship’s machinery were carried out. They dealt with any minor problems as they arose, answered any orders rung down via the ship’s telegraphs and ensured that everything ran as smoothly as possible. As officers it was also their duty to supervise the firemen, trimmers and greasers who worked with them down in the bowels of the ship.

How Leonard’s days passed aboard the Titanic prior to its fateful collision is unknown, as too are his deeds on the night in question, as no accounts seem to exist noting him. If the story is to be believed, though, his fate and that of the 1500 other people who perished on the Titanic was foreseen by one of his relatives back in the Potteries, none of whom had any idea that Leonard was aboard the Titanic. According to the story she later told, two days before the disaster, Leonard’s 14 year old niece, Rose May Timmis, the daughter of Leonard’s elder sister Agnes, was sleeping in the same bed as her grandmother Caroline Hodgkinson (Leonard’s mother) when she had a nightmare. Rose dreamt that she was standing by a road in Trentham Park looking out over the lake, when a large ship steamed into sight. Suddenly the ship went down at one end and she could hear screams. Rose herself woke up with a yell that frightened her grandmother awake. When the frightened girl related her dream her grandmother snapped, “No more suppers for you, lady; dreams are a pack of daft.”

After a while, Rose drifted back to sleep once more, only to find herself dreaming the same scene and as before when she heard the people screaming she did the same. She recalled that her grandmother was furious with her this time. A few days later, though, the news of the disaster broke and the family learnt that Leonard had been aboard the Titanic and that he and the other 34 engineering officers aboard had perished with the ship. Though several bodies from the engineering department were recovered in the following weeks, Leonard’s was not one of them.

Though Leonard’s body was never found, he is remembered in several memorials, most notably on the Engineers Memorial, East Park, Southampton, the Titanic and Engineers memorial, Liverpool; the Glasgow Institute of Marine Engineers memorial; and the Institute of Marine Engineers Memorial in London. There is also a brass memorial plaque in the church of St Faithful, in Crosby, Liverpool, dedicated to the memory of the Chief Engineer and his Engine Room staff.

The Titanic Engineers Memorial, Southampton

Leonard Hodgkinson was not the only member of his family to go to sea. His son Leonard Stanley also became a marine engineer with White Star and later Cunard.  He served on the transatlantic run most of his career, mainly on RMS Majestic before the war and later on the Queen Mary and the Queen Elizabeth.

Website: Encyclopedia Titanica

The Sneyd Colliery Disaster

The memorial to the men lost in the disaster.

At 7.50 am, on 1 January 1942,  a devastating explosion took place 800 yards below ground at No 4 pit of Sneyd Colliery, Smallthorne. In normal times the pit would not have been working on New Years Day, the miners considering it unlucky, but because of the demand for coal during the war, work had gone on as normal and a full shift was on duty at the mine when the explosion occurred. The blast was contained to one coalface in the 7-foot Banbury Seam of No. 4 pit. All other workings were unaffected by the explosion, but the thump was felt throughout the mine, some men in the pit noted that the flow of air changed direction, while on the surface people felt a bump and all the lights flickered. Everyone knew something major had happened and when a frantic telephone call from the pit bottom informed them that an explosion had occurred, for the safety of all, work was stopped and the miners were quickly evacuated from the unaffected parts of No. 4 pit as well as from the neighbouring No. 2 pit.

The Sneyd Mines Rescue Team sprang into action immediately after the blast and venturing down they rescued a handful of men from the pit bottom, but also found the first bodies. Teams were soon arriving from other local collieries including Chatterley Whitfield, Black Bull, Hanley Deep and Shelton; in total nine local mines rescue teams became involved in what soon turned from a rescue to a recovery effort. Beyond the mine, news of the explosion soon spread by word of mouth through the local community. Families and friends horrified by the reports they were hearing dashed up to the colliery to wait at the Hot Lane gate for news of their loved ones, but for many it would be the worst news. The bodies of 16 men were brought out that first day, but the rescue operations had to be postponed due to the presence of afterdamp and it was announced at that point that there was now no hope of finding anyone else alive. Up top, everyone came in to help, first aid staff were on duty at the ambulance room, the mine managers directed the rescue operation and the Inspectorate of Mines soon had staff on site to help out and assess the damage. Other staff did their bit too, the pit’s chief telephonist Mabel Caine was reported to have stayed at her post almost continuously for five days and nights, fielding thousands of phone calls and refusing all attempts to get her to take a long break.

On 5 January even before all the bodies had been recovered, nearly 80% of the workforce got back to work, but it was not until 10 January that the last bodies were recovered. The list of the dead was sobering, as of the 61 men and boys working on the face that morning, 57 had lost their lives in the blast, most being killed in the initial explosion, while two later died in hospital. The two youngest, David George Briggs from Stanfields and Albert James from Burslem were both aged 15, while the oldest Hamlett Gibson, from Cobridge was 65. There were many sad stories to be told of those who were lost. A Mrs Bennett of Moorland Road, Burslem, suffered a double bereavement, losing her 41 year old husband James and 17 year old son Robert, both of whom had been working on haulage; the family had only recently moved down from Scotland. Mr and Mrs W. F. Harrison of Cobridge lost two teenage sons, Frank aged 18 and Alexander Charles aged 17. Joseph Sherratt aged 38 from Porthill was one of two firemen who were missing. Married with two children and a third on the way, only hours before he had been enjoying a party with his children and some of their friends and had laid on a puppet show of ‘Sinbad the Sailor’ to amuse them. He had not been superstitious about working on New Year, but his wife had and handed him a silver three penny piece for luck. Another haulage worker from Burslem, William Docksey aged 27, had been at the pit for 10 years, He had a brother working elsewhere in the mine who immediately joined the rescue team in an effort to find William. And David Briggs one of the youngsters mentioned earlier, had enjoyed a brief moment of local fame only a short while before, when he was photographed with the Minister of Food, Lord Woolton, eating one of the first sandwiches to be served by the new central depot for providing sandwiches for the miners of North Staffordshire.

 

 Four survivors had been pulled out of the pit, who by sheer luck or their more sheltered position in the mine, had escaped serious injury or death. One was Ernest Stone of Burslem in charge of the telephone at the pit bottom, whose call had alerted those up top to what had happened. He had been seated in a recessed area off the main road when the explosion occurred and thus avoided the worst of the blast. When the first rescuers arrived, though very dazed, he stayed at his post for three hours refusing to go up until he was finally overcome with dizziness. Another equally lucky was George Read of Burslem, the chief hooker in charge of loading and unloading tubs into the cages at the pit bottom. Like Mr Stone he was in an area off the main roadway and likewise escaped the worst of the blast. After a day at home getting over the shock of what had happened, he returned to the pit to help in the recovery effort. Thomas Gibbons from Burslem aged 64, was not so lucky. He was working near to the pit bottom operating a compressed air machine that drew tubs from the Banbury seam when the explosion occurred. Hit by a tremendous blast of hot air, he was hurled against a wall and fainted. Coming to a short while later in complete darkness and covered in dust only his intimate knowledge of the mine saved him. Working out where he was, Thomas crawled along the passage to where it branched off from the Bambury seam to the return of the Holly Lane branch. After crawling along for another 200 yards he was discovered by some Holly Lane miners who gave him some water and got him transported to the surface, from where he went to hospital. The fourth ‘survivor’ had not actually been in that part of the pit, but had initially been listed with the missing. Mr J. Bailey from Hanley, had only started at the pit the day before and swapped his heavy hand lamp for a helmet lamp with another man that morning. This was later discovered by the rescue teams who presumed Mr Bailey was a victim, though he had already been evacuated from the mine with the other 600 men. The mix-up was only discovered when he later wandered into the Burslem Miner’s Hall to correct the mistake after finding that he had been listed as a victim.

In the immediate aftermath of the disaster a fund was set up to which many members of the public, collieries and companies gave money, while the proceeds of many local performances were also donated and money came in from abroad, even from as far away as soldiers serving in Iceland; over £17.000 was eventually collected and shared out amongst those who had lost a relative, the shares being determined by how many dependents the victims left behind. Families had been devastated by the disaster, many losing their main or only breadwinner. The disaster left 32 widows and 35 fatherless children, while of the 24 unmarried men 13 left grieving mothers and fathers and 8 left mothers who were already widowed. 

The question everyone wanted answered, was what had caused this appalling accident? The subsequent inquiry headed by Sir Henry Walker, concluded that the most likely cause was that tubs used to move the coal out of the mine had derailed and damaged an electric cable. Sparks from the cable had then ignited coal dust in the air and caused an explosion. Some writers have since disagreed with this explanation, and have advanced other perfectly valid theories, though after all this time any kind of definitive explanation of what happened is not possible as the mine is no more and all the witnesses are long dead.

Sneyd Colliery continued working through the war, but from the late 1950s onwards it was slowly swallowed up by a larger neighbour. Major reconstruction work at Wolstanton Colliery saw an underground connection made to Sneyd and from that point on coal gradually started being brought to the surface at Wolstanton. Coal ceased being raised at Sneyd in July 1962 and though for a time the shafts there were still used for sending miners down, eventually all the men were transferred to Wolstanton Colliery. The No. 4 shaft, however, remained open as a spare entry for the northern area of the expanded colliery until the final closure of Wolstanton in 1985. 

The Sneyd Colliery explosion has the dubious honour of being the last major pit disaster in the Potteries and it cast a long shadow in the city’s collective memory. A memorial comprising a pit wheel set in bricks was unveiled in Burslem town centre in 2007. It lists all 57 names of the dead on a plaque and carries another praising the mines rescue teams that worked so hard to bring out the bodies.

Reference: Evening Sentinel, 1 January 1942, p. 1; 2 January, p.1; 5 January, p.1; 10 January, p.1.

Characteristics of the Working Population

Published in 1847 by Charles Knight, The Land We Live In, was ostensibly a travel guide written for those adventurous souls who wished to make use of the new railways which were springing up all over Britain. One chapter was dedicated to 'The Staffordshire Potteries' and as well as containing descriptions of the six towns, it also gave an interesting pen-portrait of the ordinary people of the district.

'Whoever wishes to see the characteristics of the working population of a manufacturing district, should watch for the hour when all hands troop out to dinner, There is sure to be a something which an observant eye can catch ... If at the Potteries, he will observe that all the world ... wear little, natty, gray, hemispherical hats or caps - not the broad-brims which have recently had a season of favour among cricketers and steam-boat tourists, but having a brim curled up compactly all, round. These caps are made of coarse gray felt; and they form an extensive article of manufacture in the neighbouring town of Newcastle; for they are worn almost universally by the potters, men and boys, while at work and the feminine workers do not altogether reject then; The caps have the double reputation of being 'nice and warm' in winter, and 'nice and cool' in summer. If we further look at the groups of potters, while returning homewards to dinner, we can hardly fail to see that they are a whiteybrown race, so far as dress is concerned; the pottery materials are mostly of a light colour, and they leave their impress both on skin and on clothes...

As to the streets in which the operatives live, a passer-by would find it difficult to distinguish one house from another. They are like casts taken from the same mould. All are about of equal height, and have an equal number of windows; all the windows are decked with flowers, placed in pots which would shame our London flower-pots; all the street-doors open into the best parlours; and all the best parlours (or so many of them, that we feel tempted to jump to a conclusion as to the rest) have mahogany chests of drawers. It appears that the potters have a very commendable bit of pride concerning this article of furniture; and there can be little doubt that the treasures stored away in such receptacles often comprise no small amount of display and finery for the Sunday's wear. But we are not entitled to peep into the drawers; so will pass on.

While speaking of the potters and their houses we may as well mention that they have the reputation of having more freeholds in their possession than any other class of operatives in this country. Among the more prudent men the earnings are large enough, in a cheap county, to permit them to lay by sufficient for the purchase of a small freehold dwelling; and it is said that near Burslem there is a row or street of houses consisting entirely of workmen's freeholds, this does not appear to be the result of any Building Society, Land Society, or Socialist scheme, but to spring from individual acts of prudence - so much the better. That some potters are reckless and poor, and some poor without being reckless, may well be imagined. We remember seeing a handbill emanating from the " Handlers' and Flat and Hollow Ware Pressers' Surplus Labour Society (a name almost as long as Boz's "Hot Muffin and Crumpet Baking and Punctual Delivery Company"), in which the grievances of the members were to be remedied by a certain labour-scheme - and the Reports of the "Children's Employment Commissioners" showed that there is much more squalor and more ignorance than there ought to be where so large an amount of wages is distributed every week; but we incline to think that the potters, as a class, would rank as high as most English operatives in intelligence and in comfort. Some of the witnesses who gave evidence before the Government Commissioner presented rather a gloomy picture of the people and their condition; while others felt that they could venture to take a more cheerful view of the state of things. One of them, a manager or foreman, said: " I do not think that there is a more respectable set of mechanics in England. They are great politicians ; for it is the practice, when the newspapers arrive, for one amongst them to seat himself in the middle of the room, and read aloud for twenty minutes; he is then relieved by another, and returns to his work." Here follows, however, rather an ugly spot -" If it happens that, in his turn, one of the persons cannot read, his place is taken by another and he works for him." There is a Potters' Emigration Society, whose funds have been devoted to the purchase of an estate at Wisconsin, in the United States of America, whither many of the potters have emigrated and it is said, prospered.'

Reference: Charles Knight (publisher) The Land We Live In, London, 1847

Visiting Burslem's Houses of Ill Fame.

Burslem town centre in the early 19th century.

The oldest profession in the world had its place in soft underbelly of the Regency Potteries. Prostitutes plied a regular trade usually around the local inns where there were rich pickings when the potters and miners rolled in what their wages. A brief memoir of the period reveals that then as now many of the local working girls were ordinary women driven to extremes by circumstances, the probable cause being abject poverty. A Short Memoir of Ann Sheldon, published in 1821, tells the story of the short life of a dedicated Burslem Sunday School teacher. Constructed around entries in Ann's diary, it reveals her to have been a noble spirited young woman, who saw it as her Christian duty to visit the sick and try to save the fallen.

In April 1813 following a class, one of her class members asked Ann if she would visit a woman who was very ill. Accompanied by a fellow teacher 'Miss B', she went to see the woman whom she soon discovered to be a local prostitute. They found her to be, 'a little better and very penitent.' Ann continued : 'she had been a very wicked woman for years, and is now little more than 30 years of age. Her parents died when she and her sister were young. As they advanced in years they got into bad company and lost their character. Masters would not employ them and they became common prostitutes.' The woman, exhausted and frightened by her illness, told the two teachers that if she lived she was determined to leave her 'wicked course of life.'  

After praying together they left her. The two young teachers had obviously been shocked by the interview and though the nature of the woman's illness is never stated, the impression we are left with is that it was contracted as a result of her calling. Both came away from the house burning with a desire to save others from such a dangerous and degrading career.

The next day, Ann and Miss B set out once more and found a woman to direct them to the 'houses of ill fame'. They visited two buildings, but met with a mixed reception, made all the more galling no doubt, by the fact that at least two of the girls they encountered were old Sunday school scholars.

In the first house 'we found a young woman about seventeen years of age, who lived by herself, and was three years ago a Sunday scholar.' The girl was unmoved by the teachers entreaties, Ann went back many times to invite her back to the school, but to no avail.

There were two women in the other house: 'we found a woman about twenty-seven years of age; who met in class about two years ago: we both spoke as close as possible for an hour and a half; they shed many tears and confessed they had a hell upon earth. There was another woman present, a companion in sin, who appeared to take no notice: - I said to her come down on your knees, and cry to the Lord, to have mercy upon your soul, before it is too late: we all bowed the knee before God, and found much liberty in prayer.'

It is unknown whether Ann and Miss B efforts were successful. The biography remains silent on the matter. Ann herself died at a young age in 1819.

Reference: John Tregortha (publisher)  A Short Memoir of Ann Sheldon, Burslem 1821

Elijah Fenton

Elijah Fenton

Elijah Fenton, poet, biographer and translator, was born at Shelton on 25 May 1683. His father John Fenton, an attorney at law, and one of the coroners for the county of Stafford, was of an ancient family and possessed of a sizeable estate, while his mother Catherine Meare claimed direct descent from an officer in the army of William the Conqueror. Elijah was the youngest of their twelve children, and not being likely to inherit any of the family estate he was destined from an early age to be placed into some form of employment. He was an intelligent child  and the church was therefore chosen as his future profession. Accordingly, after being educated locally, on 1 July 1700 he was admitted as a pensioner of Jesus college, Cambridge, where he earned a reputation as a diligent student. He gained his B.A., in 1704, but being an adherent of the old Stuart dynasty he denied himself the chance of taking holy orders by declining to take the required oaths of allegiance to the Crown. 

Seeking out alternative employment, Fenton became first an usher in the school of a Mr Bonwick, in Headley in Surrey, but was soon afterwards patronised by the representative of the noble Boyle family. He was subsequently appointed as secretary to Charles, 4th Earl of Orrery and later tutor to his son Lord Boyle. The Boyles were residing in Flanders and it was during his time there that Fenton produced some of his early poetry.

On returning to England, he opened a grammar school at Sevenoaks in Kent. Though this added to his growing reputation as an able tutor to the gentry, the school was not a success and Fenton turned to publishing a series of verses. These received some favourable notices and he attracted the patronage of Henry St. John (later 1st Viscount Bolingbroke) and resigned his teaching post in 1710. This connexion, together with his abilities and amiable manners, brought him to the attention and earned him the friendship of the great and learned of his day, most notably one of the great British poets of the 18th century, Alexander Pope, who became a lifelong friend. 

Fenton's friendship with Pope seems to have energised him and over the next few yeas he produced a series of poems. Pope also managed to get his friend additional patrons, first as private secretary to the politician James Craggs and after the latter's death he secured him the patronage of Lady Trumbull who appointed Fenton as tutor to her eldest son. He was to enjoy the lady's patronage until his death nine years later.

During this period he produced further poems and a tragedy Mariamne, which though deemed unfit for performance by the then poet laureate, went on to earn Fenton over £1,000. There was also a profitable collaboration with Alexander Pope, who asked Fenton if he would assist in a translation of The Odyssey. Fenton duly translated books 1, 4, 19, and 20, his style apparently being so similar to Pope's that it is difficult to tell them apart.  Fenton also wrote the Life of John Milton, a biography that continued to be reprinted into the 19th century. His last significant work was an edition of the poems of Edmund Waller. 

Though seen today as a minor 18th century poet, at the time Fenton's skills were highly regarded by his contemporaries and may indeed have improved were it not for by his habitual idleness. One of Fenton's early biographers, none other than Dr Samuel Johnson of dictionary fame, touched on this in an amusing pen portrait of his fellow Staffordshireman.

'Fenton was tall and bulky, inclined to corpulence, which he did not lessen by much exercise; for he was very sluggish and sedentary, rose late, and when he had risen sat down to his book or papers. A woman, that once waited on him in a lodging, told him, as she said, that he would "lie a-bed, and be fed with a spoon." This, however, was not the worst that might have been prognosticated, for Pope says, in his Letters, that "he died of indolence;" but his immediate distemper was the gout.'

But, Johnson notes further, Fenton's faults were outweighed by his intelligence and the kindliness of his character.

'Of his morals and his conversation the account is uniform: he was never named but with praise and fondness, as a man in the highest degree amiable and excellent. Such was the character given him by the earl of Orrery, his pupil; such is the testimony of Pope; and such were the suffrages of all who could boast of his acquaintance.

By a former writer of his Life a story is told, which ought not to be forgotten. He used, in the latter part of his time, to pay his relations in the country an yearly visit. At an entertainment made for the family by his elder brother he observed that one of his sisters, who had married unfortunately, was absent, and found upon enquiry that distress had made her thought unworthy of invitation. As she was at no great distance he refused to sit at table till she was called, and, when she had taken her place, was careful to shew her particular attention.'

Fenton died at the age of 47 on 16 July 1730, in Easthampstead, Berkshire, most likely from health problems related to gout and is buried in the churchyard of St Michael and St Mary Magdalene's Church, Easthampstead, with an epitaph by his friend Alexander Pope. It reads:-

To the memory of Elijah Fenton of Shelton in Staffordshire,

who dyed at Easthampstead Anno 1730, aged forty seven years.

In honour of his great integrity & Learning.

William Trumbell Esq erected this monument.

This modest stone what few vain marbles can

May truly say, here lies an honest man

A poet blest beyond the poets fate

Whom heav'n left sacred from the proud and great

Foe to loud praise and friend to learned ease

Content with science in the vale of peace

Calmly he look'd on either life & here

Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear

From natur's temp'rate feast rose satisfy'd

Thank'd heav'n that he had liv'd and that he dy'd.

A. POPE

Reference: John Ward, The Borough of Stoke-Upon-Trent (1843); Samuel Johnson: Lives of the English Poets (1779-81); ed., Hill (1905), 2:257-66

Illustrations: John Ward, The Borough of Stoke-Upon-Trent (1843)

Thomas Cooper Sparks the Pottery Riots

One of the least known literary associations with Staffordshire, is that of Charles Kingsley's novel Alton Locke. Tailor and Poet, which was published in 1851. The story of the rise and fall of a self-taught working man who is eventually imprisoned for rioting, is based upon a real person and a real incident. The person was the Chartist leader, Thomas Cooper, who was arrested and sentenced to two years in prison, for the events he had prompted in the Staffordshire Potteries.

Thomas Cooper was born in Leicester to a working class family and from an early age displayed a precocious intelligence, the development of which was only limited by the fact that most of his lessons were self-taught. Occasionally, he had been known to immerse himself so deeply into his studies that the sheer mental effort he put forth ended on one occasion, at least, in him being physically ill. He worked at various jobs, mostly as a teacher, lay preacher and journalist, but eventually, appalled by the conditions endured by many factory and workshop workers, he became a convinced Chartist, a member of that Victorian working class movement which supported the introduction of a People's Charter, which called for fair representation for the working population. The Charter's six points demanded votes for all men at 21, annual general elections, a secret ballot, constituencies regulated by size of population, the abolition of property qualifications for MP's and the payment of MP's. Most of these points eventually became laws of the land and form a part of the state we live in today, but none of these things came into being until the latter half of the nineteenth century, long after the Chartist movement itself had collapsed.

There were two bodies of the Chartist movement, the physical and the moral-force Chartists, who sought to bring about social change by revolutionary or evolutionary means. In his early days, Cooper was a supporter of the former faction. He was a fire and brimstone type of preacher, who like all great orators could move people with his speeches. This power comes through in Cooper's autobiography, which is widely regarded as one of the finest working class 'lives' written during the Victorian age. The book, though,written in Cooper's later years after he had become a convinced moral-force Chartist, tends to carefully skate around his fiery physical-force youth and he presents himself as a far more reasonable man than he actually was in August 1842, when he arrived in the Potteries. Only by bearing in mind, that Cooper at this time advocated revolution of sorts, do the events he inspired in the Potteries make sense. Though he says in his book that he proclaimed, 'Peace, law and order', the resulting riots that left one man dead, dozens wounded or injured and many buildings burnt or ransacked, indicated that he said more than he was letting on.

Cooper arrived in the Potteries, after a tour of several major towns and cities in the Midlands, and here he was to make a number of speeches before moving on to Manchester. The area was in the grip of a wage dispute. In June, 300 Longton miners whose wages had been drastically cut had gone on strike. By July, the strike had expanded to all of the pits in north Staffordshire, and hundreds of miners were on the streets, begging for money, and with the pits being closed, the potteries through lack of coal, could not fire their kilns and were also closed. By early August, the dispute had attracted widespread attention, certainly the Chartists expressed sympathy for the miners' action, but contrary to later claims that the subsequent riots were Chartist inspired, it was mostly miners and not Chartists who did the rioting. The Potteries were a powder keg, ready to explode and Cooper's arrival, as he himself admitted was 'the spark which kindled all into combustion'.

Thomas Cooper addresses the crowd at Crown Bank, Hanley

Standing on a chair in front of the Crown Inn, a low thatched building at Crown Bank in Hanley, on Sunday, 14 August, Cooper addressed a crowd of upwards of 10,000 people, delivering a brilliant Chartist speech to his audience. He look for his text the sixth commandment, 'Thou shalt do no murder'. Throwing his net wide, he drew on examples of kings and tyrants from history, such as Alexander, Caesar and Napoleon, who had violated this commandment against their own people, even as their own government would be prepared to do. The next day, he addressed an equally sizeable crowd and moved a motion, 'That all labour cease until the People's Charter becomes the law of the land'. What followed, Cooper later regretted. As the crowd dispersed. rioting started around the Potteries towns in all except Tunstall and the borough town of Newcastle. Police stations were attacked, magistrate's houses ran­sacked and burned, as were Hanley Parsonage and Longton Rectory. By the 16th, the chaos had lasted a day and a night, but on that day, the most famous, or infamous incident of the uprising occurred, what is known locally as 'the battle of Burslem'. Following the rioting in Stoke, Shelton, Hanley and Longton, a great crowd moved towards Burslem, there to meet a crowd coming from Leek. Here, though, the authorities played their hand, when a troop of mounted dragoons stopped the crowd from Leek. The magistrate in charge read the Riot Act, then tried to reason with the men, but when it was clear that they were bent on trouble, the soldiers were ordered to fire. One man from Leek was killed and many injured, the crowd was routed and the disturbances ended overnight, but for many weeks afterwards, the Potteries were full of troops and vengeful magistrates arresting rioters and Chartist leaders.

Cooper, horrified at the events he had unleashed, had tried to escape, but he was arrested and eventually tried and sentenced to two years in Stafford Gaol, on charges of arson and rioting. Here, he spent his time profitably, learning Hebrew and writing his book, The Purgatory of Suicides. On leaving prison, though, his views were found to differ considerably from the new mainstrean in Chartist thought, and he became increasingly a moral-force activist and remained so for the rest of his life.

It was in the two or three years after leaving prison, that Cooper was interviewed by the Rev. Charles Kingsley, whose Christian Socialist movement had inherited many of the Chartist beliefs. Kingsley had sought out several old Chartists and educated working men on whom he wished to base the life of the major character in the novel he was preparing. Thomas Cooper, was obviously the chief amongst these, certainly his autobio­graphy, written many years after Kingsley had published Alton Locke, shows many striking similarities between Cooper's life and that of his fictional alter ego. The riot that Alton inspires in the book, for which he too is committed to the prison, takes place in the countryside, amongst agricultural labourers, but behind it there is the faintest echo of the struggle in the Potteries, that one historian has considered the nearest thing to a popular revolution that the Victorian age saw.

After 1845, Thomas Cooper turned his talents mainly to writing, but he also lectured on subjects such as history, literature and photography. In this capacity, he made a number of return visits to the Potteries, to the place where on that day many years before, he had 'caught the spirit of the oppressed and discontented', in seeking to establish the basis of a democratic society.

Reference: Charles Kingsley, Alton Locke. Tailor and Poet (1851); Thomas Cooper, Life of Thomas Cooper, written by Himself, (1872).

Zeppelins over the Potteries

During the First World War, the action for the most part took place along a line of trenches stretching from the. Belgian coast, down to the Swiss border, where massed armies, huddled in their trenches, were launched in pointless attacks in the face of merciless machine gun and cannon fire. For the civilians back home the war was distant, though those left at home may have had relatives in the trenches, the Great War was an impersonal thing. True, foodstuffs were in short supply, and women took a great leap forward in society by going to work in the factories and on the farms, but the prospect of imminent death from enemy bombers, was still a generation away, or so it seemed. Then there came the Zeppelins. In a bold move, the Germans attempted to disrupt British life and industry, by sending over fleets of hydrogen-filled airships to drop bombs on anything they thought worthy of being destroyed. Two of these airships, at least, made it as far as North Staffordshire, and though the damage they did was insignificant, the authorities fell that they were such a threat to British morale, that the circum­stances of the raids were not fully reported until a month after the war had ended.

The first raiders came on the night of the 31 January 1916, Several cities through­out the Midlands were surprised to find airships over them, since few had thought that the area was within the radius of such craft. This was in the days before the blackout, and the major manufactories of the Midlands were a blaze of lights and fires, and in North Staffordshire, the glow was particularly noticeable from the pot banks and steel-works of Stoke on Trent, which were obscured only by a slight ground mist.

A squadron of Zeppelins had crossed the coast that night. One attacked Walsall at 8.10 p.m., and later at 12,30 a.m. There, the Mayoress, Mrs. S. M. Slater, was fatally injured in a bomb blast. The Wednesbury Road Congreg­ational Chapel was dem­olished by a bomb and other unspecified damage was done. At 8.30, another airship suddenly loomed out of the dark over Burton on Trent, and dropped a cluster of bombs, one of which fell on a mission house, where a clergyman's wife was holding a service, and in the blast three of the congregation were killed and a forth fatally injured.

Not long after the Zeppelin over Burton had begun its attack, engines were heard moving towards Trentham and the Potteries, and presently, the Zeppelin appeared, cruising slowly overhead. Its obvious target could be seen miles away, the light from the Stafford Coal and Iron Company's blast furnaces. The raider circled the foundry like a vulture and dropped half a dozen bombs in close succession. However, these fell on the spoil banks between the colliery and the furnaces, where they made several large holes, but did no serious damage.

After that the elusive raider sneaked off. Its course was only a matter of speculation, though engines were heard over Hanley, then Wolstanton and as far west as Madeley, where it dropped a flare over open country. It's raid, though it must have injected some excitement into the area, caused no harm and it must have used up its stock of bombs, or been searching for a secondary target.

German airship designer, Count Zeppelin

The second Zeppelin raid, though, was more dramatic, and took place during the night of 27 to 28 November 1916. It was a clear, dry night over the Midlands, there was the nip of an autumn frost in the air, perfect weather for an air raid. So, perhaps, at 10.45 p.m.. when the warning was received in the Potteries that Zeppelins had been sighted, few were surprised. The whole district was blacked out. and air raid precautions were put in place the special constabulary, the fire brigade and doctors and nurses were all alerted and went to their stations. Positive information was soon received that a raider was making for North Staffordshire, and at a few minutes before 1 a.m, the steady drone of aero engines was heard and the Zeppelin was sighted over Biddulph. slowly making, towards the Kidsgrove-Goldenhill-Tunstall area of the Potteries. Then the bombs came crashing down.

One unnamed witness, had been up late and was just going to bed at about 1 a.m., when he heard a 'deep rumbling, long-sustained explosion' and thought that there had been a serious colliery accident nearby. He went into another bedroom to ask if anyone else had heard the noise, when there were further explosions, two short sharp blasts, then another 'accompanied by a rending sound', then a series of four or five blasts in succession. The witness looked out of a bedroom window and caught sight of flashes off towards the Chesterton area, followed by the thudding boom of the detonations. The bombard­ment went on for about half an hour until the Zeppelin drew nearer to the witness' house and dropped another bomb about half a mile away 'that shook every brick and window in the house', before it moved. The witness had counted 21 explosions.

The first bomb blew a hole in a spoil bank at Birchenwood Colliery, Kidsgrove, while the second two landed not far off from the Goldendale Iron Works. The forth landed in Tunstall, impacting in the back yard of No. 6 Sun Street, and the explosion destroyed the sculleries and outhouses of Nos. 2, 4, 6 and 8, but shards hit other houses, as well as a nearby Roman Catholic church. Luckily, no one was killed and only one person was injured, a Mr Cantliffe of No. 8 Sun Street, who was hit in the chest by shrapnel, but he later made a full recovery in the North Staffordshire Infirmary. Had the raider circled in that area for a time, there is little doubt that there would have been a great deal of destruction and many more casualties, but the Zeppelin moved on, leaving Sun Street battered and bruised and in such a state that it would for days attract a horde of sightseers.

The Zeppelin cruised over Tunstall and out across Bradwell Wood, where the burning mine hearths seem to have attracted the raider away from the areas of population. This area was just a mass of calcinating ironstone left to smoulder out in the open, but which obviously seemed to have given the impression of being an ironworks of some description. Certainly the Germans thought so, and the area was heavily bombed, watched from a distance by our nameless witness. Explosion after explosion reverberated over Chester­ton, but the only damage done was to a shed that was knocked over and the closest that any other bomb got to the public, was when one of the last of these landed behind Bradwell Lane, Wolstanton. A later report summed it up succinctly as a 'particularly futile' attack on the area.

As it had circled over Bradwell Wood and the area around Chesterton and Wolstanton for some time, illuminated in the flashes from the bombs, many locals had spotted the airship. But finally, spent of its bomb load, the raider turned south-east and was last sighted passing low over Blurton Farm coming from the direction of Hartshill. This was at 1.35 a.m., the Zeppelin then vanished into the dark at a 'moderate speed'.

There had been a number of bombing raids over Britain that night and many came to a grim end. Certainly the North Staffs raider never made it back to Germany. Lord French, reporting the fate of several of these Zeppelins in a communique, made special reference to the airship that had bombed the Tunstall area. It appeared that after leaving the North Midlands, the airship hail taken a direct route towards East Anglia, from where there was but a short stretch of sea separating her crew from their homeland. However, before she even reached the coast, the Zeppelin had been repeatedly attacked by aeroplanes of the Royal Flying Corps and by ground-based artillery. Perhaps she was damaged, since Lord French's report noted that the last part of her journey was made at a very slow speed and the airship was unable to reach the coast before day was breaking. By the time she reached Norfolk, however, it seemed that the crew had managed to make repairs, and after running a gauntlet of coastal batteries, one of which claimed a hit, the Zeppelin was seen making off to the cast at a high speed and at an altitude of about 8,000 feet. But more planes came at her. About nine miles out at sea, the Zeppelin was attacked by four machines of the Royal Navy Air Service and further fire came from an armed trawler. Worried like a bear with terriers at her heels, the airship struggled on until gunfire ripped into her hydrogen filled body and she went crashing down in flames into the sea at about 6.45 a.m. No survivors were noted.

Reference: Staffordshire Sentinel, Friday, 27 December 1918, p.4

Jane Austen and the Clay of Staffordshire.

Through the efforts of potters such as Thomas Whieldon, Josiah Wedgwood, Josiah Spode and many others less well known, between 1750 and 1800 the local pottery industry had undergone a tremendous revolution. In 1762 when Wedgwood was just beginning his career as a major manufacturer, there were 150 potteries in the district employing over 7,000 people. By 1800, the figures for both had doubled. The improvement in trade was matched by technical developments and the use of new resources which improved the quality of the products produced. Thus the salt-glazed wares of one decade had been displaced in turn by creamwares and porcelains and by the turn of the century by bone china. All in all it had been quite an achievement in so short a time, As the words of the Wedgwood Memorial had it, these enterprising potters had 'converted a rude and inconsiderable manufacture into an elegant art and an important branch of national commerce.'

It was an improvement noted by none other than that great observer of her age, the novelist Jane Austen. Jane never visited the Potteries and had only a vague notion of its location (she thought it was near Birmingham and may have been confusing the district with the Black Country). She was, however, part of the genteel social set that these new, finer, highly decorative wares were aimed at, for whom buying the latest thing in pottery became something of a craze.

In her letters Jane writes of visiting the Wedgwood showrooms in London and in one gleeful missive to her sister Cassandra in June 1811, she writes 'I had the pleasure of receiving, unpacking, and approving our Wedgwood ware' and anticipates the arrival of a new Wedgwood breakfast set for their mother, 'I hope it will come by the waggon to-morrow; it is certainly what we want, and I long to know what it is like'. 

A decade earlier, though, her enthusiasm for Staffordshire pottery found a release in one of her early novels. Though not published until after her death, Jane Austen's Gothic conceit, Northanger Abbey, was revised and finished between 1801 and 1804. In chapter 22, there is a short witty passage that may be the first literary appreciation of the Staffordshire Potteries and their rising status amongst the ceramic capitals of the world. 

'The elegance of the breakfast set forced itself on Catherine’s notice when they were seated at table; and, luckily, it had been the general’s choice. He was enchanted by her approbation of his taste, confessed it to be neat and simple, thought it right to encourage the manufacture of his country; and for his part, to his uncritical palate, the tea was as well flavoured from the clay of Staffordshire, as from that of Dresden or Seve. But this was quite an old set, purchased two years ago. The manufacture was much improved since that time; he had seen some beautiful specimens when last in town, and had he not been perfectly without vanity of that kind, might have been tempted to order a new set.'

Though the line about a breakfast set made two years earlier being 'quite old' is a touch of Austen wit, it nevertheless reflects the real situation at that time, when local manufacturers were working day in, day out to keep their wealthy clients happy with newer and more exciting goods.

Reference: Letters of Jane Austen (1884); Northanger Abbey (1817)

A Million to One Chance

On the afternoon of Sunday 9 May 1943, 40 year old colliery maintenance worker Joseph Boulton of 12 Blake Street, Burslem, was engaged with others in recapping a winding rope at the top of No. 2 pit at the Sneyd Collieries, Burslem, when he overbalanced and fell backwards head first down the pit shaft. He turned several somersaults and in his headlong fall happened to see a wire guide rope glistening with oil from the light reflected from the top of the pit shaft which was rapidly disappearing from his view. Reaching out he grasped the guide rope first with one hand, then with the other, and succeeded also in wrapping his legs around it, the thick coating of grease preventing any serious injury from friction burns. In this way he slowed his descent and eventually came to a stop and stepped off at a pump inset about 300 yards from the top of the pit shaft. The pump attendant was not there, so Mr Boulton sat in the pump house and read an illustrated magazine until a manager Mr J Hebblethwaite, and other colliery officials, who had expected to find him dead at the pit bottom, found him with only slight burns to one hand and one leg. They were amazed to see the man and find that he was comparatively unhurt, but insisted on him receiving first-aid treatment at the ambulance room before he went home and went to bed.

Describing his miraculous escape to reporters Mr Boulton said 'A million-to-one chance saved my life.'

Reference:Liverpool Daily Post 11 May 1943, p.3; Staffordshire Advertiser 15 May 1943, p.7