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.

The Great Storm of 1872

Being situated in such a hilly region, widespread flooding is a rarity in Stoke-on-Trent, but occasionally chance extremes of weather have briefly put parts of the area under water. One startling weather event occurred on the afternoon of Sunday, 7 July 1872, when what the Staffordshire Advertiser described as 'a thunderstorm of great severity', struck the Potteries. Though it only lasted an hour and a half, it was so fierce that it left in its wake many dozens of flooded or damaged properties and a somewhat shell-shocked populace. Considering the violence of the storm and the damage it caused, remarkably few people were injured, though it seems there were many close calls.

It had been cloudy all day, but in the afternoon the sky began to grow much darker presaging a storm, the light becoming so dim that newspapers could only be read near to windows or by candle or gas light. The dark clouds then gave way to ones with a strange yellow tint to them and it was then that it started to rain, not in drops, but as a veritable deluge driven in by a fierce wind and accompanied by loud claps of thunder and multiple bolts of lightning. In Hanley there was one very alarming event when a bolt of lightning passed through the Primitive Methodist school room in Frederick Street (now Gitana Street), entering by one window and out through another. The only damage was a scorched paint board on the front of the building, but the room had been full of children when the lightning shot through and these now fled the room in panic. They had to descend a flight of stairs to get out of the building and while none had been injured by the lightning, several now fell and were trampled underfoot and bruised in the crush, though none of them seriously. 

During a service at Shelton Church, it rained so heavily that water forced its way through the roof and poured down into the building in streams. Buckets had to be brought to catch the water and the noise produced during the saying of the litany is said to have made for a very curious sound. Elsewhere in town, the lobbies of Bethesda Chapel in Old Hall Street were flooded, so too were numerous houses in town, notably in Nelson Place where part of the road nearby carrying a tramway was washed away. In Hanover Street, the downpour lifted stones up out of the road and deposited them at the bottom of Hope Street, where a heap big enough to fill two barrows was collected. The bottom end of Hope Street itself flooded, filling the cellars with up to a foot of water, floating heavy beer barrels in a brewery and boxes of live chickens in one house. The damage done to yards and gardens was tremendous. Nor were the local pot banks immune. The Cauldon Place works were flooded, though no serious damage was caused. Hanley's satellite villages were likewise hard hit. At Basford a lightning bolt shot down a chimney and blew away a portion of a mantle shelf in one of the rooms; Etruria saw dozens of properties flooded, as too did Bucknall, where the water rushing down the roads and through the houses quickly threw the Trent into spate, causing it to overflow. This caused enormous damage on the low-lying ground of the neighbouring Finney Gardens where Bucknall Park now stands, some of the walks, plants and flowers being washed away by the sudden inundation. 

Probably in no other part of the Potteries were the effects the storm so severe than in Burslem. Reporters on the scene shortly afterwards noted that even the oldest inhabitants had never before witnessed such a tempest, one stating that the rain 'came down in bucketfuls'. The rain here was particularly heavy and for more than an hour the thunder and lightning was incessant and at one point the wind rose to a terrible pitch causing major damage in several places. On the Recreation Ground (where the old Queens Theatre now stands), Snape's Theatre, a temporary structure of wood and canvas which had been constructed for the town's wakes week, was in a matter of minutes blasted to smithereens. A number of the thickest supports were splintered like matchwood and many of the rafters and seats were destroyed, while the canvas roof was torn to shreds as the wind hit it. Mr Snape was a veteran travelling showman, well liked in the district and there was a great deal of local sympathy for him over his losses. In the aftermath of the storm a fund was set up, subscriptions to which would hopefully help him in repairing the serious losses he had sustained. 

The Big House, Burslem.

Just down the road from where Snape's Theatre was taking a battering, part of an eight-foot tall wall between a timber Yard and the Big House was knocked down by the wind and rain, the accumulated flood water then rushed through the ground floor of the Big House with great force, blowing the front door open and then pouring in a stream down the turnpike road. 

At the Roebuck Inn in Wedgwood Place, the violence of the rainstorm split some of the roof tiles, causing a mass of water to cascade into the upper rooms, then down the stairs and out through the front doors. The Town Hall too received a soaking, the basement of which was flooded to a depth of three feet, which caused no end of problems for the hall keeper and his wife who had the job of clearing it all out. Likewise the row of houses in Martin's Hole – literally a hole or hollow near the Newcastle Road, where the roofs of the houses were on a level with the road – 'presented a truly pitiable appearance', the buildings being flooded to a depth of four and a half feet, ruining food stores and furniture and forcing the luckless inhabitants to seek shelter on the upper floor. 

Almost everywhere else it was the same story with only slight variations. Longport received a severe visitation with most of the houses flooded to several feet. At Middleport the canal overflowed adding to the chaos. At Tunstall, water poured into the police station and several houses doing much damage. In Smallthorne numerous houses were flooded and smaller items of furniture were flushed out of the doors and sent floating down the street. At Dresden as well as the numerous flooded properties, the road at the lower end of the village was split apart by the storm, leaving it looking for all the world as if it had been heavily ploughed, which made it impassable to traffic and men had to be brought in to make repairs. In Stoke, Fenton and Dresden as in Burslem, many householders were forced briefly to live upstairs as their ground floors filled up, sometimes as high as the ceiling. Longton too suffered torrential rain and likewise had some flooding, but saw much less material damage, though at one pot bank the downpour extinguished the fires in their kilns. 

Then the storm passed, leaving the Potteries in a battered state that it would take several days to recover from. That evening another storm broke overhead, but this turned out to be a much less severe event and caused no more serious problems.

Reference: Birmingham Daily Post, Tuesday 9 July 1872, p.5; Staffordshire Advertiser, Saturday 13 July 1872, p.5.

Peace Celebrations 1814

Napoleon Bonaparte
Author's collection

On 6 April 1814, with the last of his armies defeated and Allied forces fast closing on Paris, Napoleon Bonaparte the self proclaimed Emperor of France gave into pressure and abdicated. Several days later the peace was ratified at the Treaty of Fontainebleau and two decades of almost constant war in continental Europe were seemingly brought to an end. Some days more passed before the news reached Britain but when it did the country celebrated in style with parties and merrymaking. The numerous towns and villages of the Potteries were not left out and the Staffordshire Advertiser gave this initial brief overview of the local festivities, which as indicated would be followed a week later by a longer and much more detailed account of proceedings.

'When our express left the Potteries yesterday, the inhabitants of that populous manufacturing district were in the height of their rejoicings. Most of the manufacturers were giving dinners, &c. to their workmen: and the principal inhabitants dining together in parties at the Inns. At Stoke, in the morning, a numerous assemblage decorated with white favours, and displaying a profusion of flags, paraded the town. - Four fat sheep were roasted, which, with one hundred loaves of bread and four kilderkins of good ale, [i.e. 64 to 72 gallons] were distributed to those poor persons residing within the districts of Stoke, Fenton, &c. who were not to be partakers of the dinners given by the manufacturers to their respective servants. An illumination and display of fire-works, were to take place in the evening.

At Lane End, we understand, similar proceedings were adopted, and considerable preparations were making for a splendid illumination in the evening.

At Burslem, a subscription was entered into which produced nearly £800, an ox and two sheep were purchased, which were roasted whole in the market place, and the principal inhabitants assisted in carving and waiting upon those who chose to eat. 13 hogsheads of good ale succeeded. Sir John Barleycorn had an uninterrupted reign. The Gentlemen dined in the market hall, which was fitted up with much taste, and there was a splendid illumination at night.

At Hanley a large party of gentlemen dined together in the Market Hall, and we understand the principal Houses and Manufactories were to be illuminated in the evening, and a display of fire works to be let off.

At Etruria Manufactory, the workmen, (in number about 500) dined together in a large room at one o'clock. Mr. Wedgwood presided and the following toasts were drank (sic) with enthusiasm. The King – Prince Regent – Queen and Royal Family – Navy and Army of Great Britain – the Allied Sovereigns – Louis 18 – Field Marshal Wellington – a general and lasting Peace – Staffordshire Potteries – Commerce of Great Britain – Cause of Civil and Religious Liberty throughout the World – Land we live in, &c. The females were to be regaled with tea in the evening, & the apprentices have an adequate treat. In the village of Woolstanton a sheep was roasted and distributed with a proportionate quantity of ale to the poor inhabitants. At Tunstall the rejoicings take place this day. Our time is so limited we cannot enter into particulars, but hope to give an additional account in our next.'

Staffordshire Advertiser 23 April 1814, p.4

Soprano: The Musical Career of Lily Lonsdale (1)

'If only to hear the remarkable singing by Lily Lonsdale, the entertainments given by the Royal Gipsy Children are well worth attending... The young lady named is still well within her teens, but she sings with skill expected only from artistes far above her years, and has a voice of unusual compass and beauty.'

-  Western Mail, Cardiff, 27 December 1899

Elizabeth Longsdale, alias Lily Lonsdale

Elizabeth Longsdale, or Lonsdale, was born in Pitts Hill, Tunstall in 1878, the fifth of eight children born to William Longsdale and his wife Martha nee Maskew. Elizabeth's father was a potter by trade, but his great passion was for choral music and in the last decade of his life he served as the choirmaster at Christ Church, Tunstall. Given this background, it is hardly surprising that William and Martha raised a family of very musical children: their son Wilson became a noted local baritone and their youngest daughters Agnes and Ethel also became elocutionists, singers or performers as too did one of their grandchildren. But it was Elizabeth, under the stage name of Lily Lonsdale, whose star would shine the brightest. Unfortunately for William, though, he never got to see his daughter's rise to fame, dying at a relatively young age in 1889 when Elizabeth was only eleven years old.

Elizabeth first made her name as a soloist at local concerts before joining the North Stafford Amateur Operatic Society where she made her stage debut, eventually taking on lead roles, most notably as Iolanthe in the Gilbert and Sullivan comic opera of the same name. As was later noted in her obituary, it was after this that that she turned professional, joining Thomas Tomkinson's Gipsy Children, a local choir turned concert party. Unusually, this was composed of talented children or adolescents and had garnered quite a following in the Potteries, even earning several invites to Trentham Hall to entertain the Duke of Sutherland and his guests. This troupe – known from 1897 onwards as the Royal Gipsy Children – would be the starting point of several successful show business careers during its existence, most notably that of Gertrude Mary Astbury, who better known as Gertie Gitana, later enjoyed a stellar career in the music halls. When Elizabeth was with the troupe Gertie was a child prodigy from Burslem nine year Elizabeth's junior, who under the stage name 'Little Gitana' ('Little Gypsy') was already gamely tackling the multiple roles that members of the Gipsy Children were often expected to take on, be it singing, dancing, acting, yodelling, paper tearing, male impersonation and performing in musical or comedy sketches. Contemporary newspapers occasionally provided digests of the entertainments the troupe provided.

Lily's co-performer Gertrude Astbury -
'Little Gitana' - in later life. By this time
she went by the stage name 'Gertie Gitana'.

'THE GIPSY CHILDREN - Mr Thomas Tomkinson's Gipsy Children have attracted crowded audiences to the Town Hall during the past week, on their return visit to Leek. Without doubt Mr Tomkinson has at his command one of the finest entertainments at present travelling, and the lengthy programme which includes musical items, comicalities, gymnastic displays, &c., is full of interest from start to finish. The first portion of the entertainment is composed of songs, dances, solos and choruses by the children, and it would be a difficult task to single out any performer, from Miss Lonsdale with her beautiful singing, to Little Gitana with her dry humour, who is more worthy of special praise than another. The second part consists of skipping-rope dances, clog dances, toe dances, character sketches and feats of equipoise on wire. The Musical Mascots give an excellent item, and the Urma Trio of charming young ladies go through a marvellous performance on the triple trapeze, which is suspended from the ceiling of the Hall. The mysterious Flying Lady, concludes the programme, and many are the suggestions made as to how this wonderful trick is done. The work of trying to please the audience extends down to the attendants who see that nothing is wanting for the comfort of their patrons. We strongly recommend those who have not already done so, to visit the Town Hall this evening (Friday) or to-morrow, when there will be a matinee, besides the evening entertainment.'

- The Leek Post, 3 December 1898

Elizabeth too occasionally performed in some other roles as the situation demanded taking parts in sketches and revealing an aptitude for comedy, but her best and natural talent was always singing. Slim and attractive and now in her late teens, Elizabeth had developed into a fine soprano singer possessed of a beautiful, well-modulated voice. Billed under the alliterative moniker 'Lily Lonsdale', she quickly became one of the star performers with the Gipsy Children, regularly granting encores to delighted audiences and earning fine reviews from equally enthralled reporters.

Though originally performing exclusively in the Potteries or North Staffordshire, by 1897, the reputation of the Gipsy Children was such that they took on a tour of the Midlands and Wales and were very well received. Lily – as we shall now call her -  like the other performers joined the troupe on the road and went wherever she was required. The performances took place in various locations, sometimes grander places such as theatres, but also in town halls or humbler public buildings like church halls or meeting houses. The company included not only the cast, but also the management and a small army of helpers. Indications are that many of the parents of the children were involved with the troop and joined them on tour and took on various roles such as helping the young performers with their costumes, serving as ushers for the audience, collecting tickets and scene-shifting. All the props had to be transported too and the Gipsy Children even took a large velvet curtain on a custom made extending brass pole with them to serve as the stage for the show where none existed. Such ad hoc arrangements were known in the business as 'fit-ups', because they could be fitted up anywhere to give a performance. Only in such ways could visiting performers take their acts to small out-of-the-way venues where no other suitable performing area existed.

Ernie Myers

Working with the Gipsy Children, experiencing life on the road, working in theatres and the numerous fit-ups, in front of varied audiences (including royalty if we believe Thomas Tomkinson's tale about how the troupe suddenly became the 'Royal' Gipsy Children) was doubtless good grounding for Lily in her intended profession. During this tour she honed her skills and earned many plaudits for her performances, but she must have felt that it was apprentice work and by mid 1899 she was looking to move on with her career. There may have been several other reasons behind this desire to spread her wings; for one she was now 20 or 21, a grown woman and was obviously getting rather too old to make a convincing gipsy child. Also by this time she was romantically involved with another member of the troupe, 28 year old comedian Ernie Myers and they doubtless wanted a bit of privacy for their relationship, while armed with their skills the prospects of a married life on tour as variety performers looked promising.

Lily's initial attempts at forging a new career, however, got off to a bumpy start. Having quit the Royal Gipsy Children in June 1899, she enlisted as a member of Leon Vint's Globe Choir that was formed from 20 to 30 young women and seemed a logical choice, but she soon regretted it. Lily joined the choir in September, but by December her voice was suffering from overwork and despite being under contract until the following summer she handed in her two weeks notice. At first Leon Vint was agreeable to her quitting her contract if a replacement could be found and Lily's sister Agnes working elsewhere in the company offered to step in, but for whatever reasons Vint then changed his tune and after seemingly plucking an excuse out of thin air and claiming that the two women had breached their contracts, he threatened to take the sisters to court, at which Lily and Agnes, angry at this volte-face, promptly resigned. To court they went, at Tredegar on 16th January 1900, but here Leon Vint's bully-boy tactics backfired when he admitted that he had indeed asked for a replacement and Agnes had agreed. The judge was also critical of the contract which he deemed very one-sided in the management's favour and as a result he promptly dismissed the case against the two women.

To support herself in the meantime, Lily had returned to performing with the Royal Gipsy Children. Her return, though, was short-lived and was effectively brought to an end only a few days after the successful court case when on 22nd January, Thomas Tomkinson, the founder of the Gipsy Children died from pneumonia at Dowlais near Merthyr Tydfil aged just 27 years. The company would carry on touring and performing under the care of Thomas's brothers, but in the reorganisation following his premature death, Lily and Ernie made their final break from the company and set off as independent performers. Taken onto the books of theatrical agent A. Borelli, they were immediately set up with a number of dates, one of the earliest being in Liverpool and whilst in the area they married at Prescot in Lancashire in April that year. Shortly afterwards they appeared in Salford, after which their manager put both of them on the so-called Moss and Thornton tour, taking in a series of theatres and musical halls across Ireland, northern England and Scotland.

There was a brief pause for Lily early the next year when she returned to the Potteries to have their first child, Jacob William or 'Jack', in February 1901, but hard economics and the strictures of contracts dictated that family life had to play second fiddle to their careers. So, while young Jack was left in the care of Lily's mother in Tunstall, Ernie and Lily went off to earn a living and so began the gruelling round of public appearances up and down the country that was the lot of jobbing variety performers in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

References: Obituary, Staffordshire Sentinel,  8 March 1929

Soprano: The Musical Career of Lily Lonsdale (2)

The Queens Palace, Rhyl

In the first few years on the road Lily and Ernie appeared in numerous venues up and down the country, including Belfast, Hull, Salford, Liverpool, Rhyl, Pentre, Tonypandy, Barry, Treorchy, Birmingham, Leeds, Derby, Coventry, Gloucester, Birkenhead, Argyll, Edinburgh and occasionally back on Lily's home turf in the Potteries. They were as yet only middle-ranking performers building up their reputations on the theatre and music hall circuit, all of which further honed their considerable skills. Despite now being married and performing at the same venues, they still appeared under their original stage names as separate acts, Ernie as an increasingly popular 'patter comedian' regaling the audience with amusing if outlandish stories and Lily in her role as a classical or ballad vocalist, though occasionally she too turned her hand to comedy, often performing in sketches or skits opposite her husband, such as when they were appearing at the Queen's Palace in Rhyl, North Wales in 1902:

'A very clever item is the amusing sketch entitled “The New Man” a burlesque in which much jesting and vivacity are introduced and which does the artistes credit. Ernie Myers well sustains the funny part, humour of course being a speciality of his which has made him a great favourite while in Rhyl. The mad woman's part is played by Miss Lily Lonsdale, the accomplished ballad vocalist who for the past week or two has charmed the audiences from day to day.'

- Rhyl Journal, 20 September 1902, p.2

They appeared in very mixed companies, sharing the stages with conjurors, ventriloquists, impressionists, acrobats, marksmen, puppeteers, clowns, jugglers, dancers and performing animals as well as other comedians and singers. On at least one occasion they were on the same bill as another married couple who performed as the double act 'Drum and Major'. The husband 'Tom Major', real name Tom Ball, would later adopt his pseudonym permanently and following the death of his wife Kitty, by a second marriage he became the father of future Conservative Prime Minister John Major. Probably the most famous bill that Lily and Ernie appeared on, though, was that for the Argyll Theatre of Varieties, Birkenhead, on 29 May 1905, when they were amongst the acts who for three nights appeared in the same show as the famous American escapologist Harry Houdini, then on a tour of Britain.

Their schedules could be gruelling, travelling from one venue to another and when there giving performances six evening a week, plus a weekday matinee. Lily sometimes had to sing up to six or seven songs per performance, so needed to make sure that her voice was in tip-top condition. Away from the stage, both she and Ernie needed to constantly keep their repertoires topical and refreshing; for Ernie this meant a constant search for new material for his comedy act, while Lily had to learn and practice the latest songs to keep her audiences entertained. The winter season did at least give the couple the chance to settle down for a few months into more regular work, when like many artists today they took on roles in traditional Christmas pantomimes. Lily and Ernie often appeared together in Aladdin, where Ernie gained a reputation for playing the villainous magician Abanazar and Lily made a memorable Princess. 

Though their workload was heavy, both of them were still young and the constant round of work paid for a very respectable lifestyle and by 1911 the couple had settled down in a pleasant house in Derby. By now they also had another child, a daughter, Lillian May, born in 1910, who when her parents were on tour along with her elder brother Jack were again left in the care of Lily's mother Martha, who had quit the Potteries and now lived with the couple in their new home. The children were doubtless left in the care of their grandmother for several months in August 1911, when Lily and Ernie and a few other acts set off on a journey to South Africa, where theatrical agent Edgar Hyman of the Empire Theatres Trust had booked them to perform at the Empire Theatre in Johannesburg. By December, though, they were back in Britain, once again taking up their respective roles in yet another performance of Aladdin.

Things carried on in the same vein for the next two years or more, but this happy period came to a shattering end when in 1914 the couple again set out for South Africa, this time at the invitation of the Africa Theatres Trust who had bought out Edgar Hyman's management company. Taking passage aboard RMS Briton they enjoyed the long voyage down, but on the approach to Table Bay at the end of the journey Ernie was taken ill and died suddenly on the morning of 7 April before the ship reached port. Lily was devastated, but the theatre community in Cape Town rallied around her. Harry Stodel, the local impresario who had booked them stepped in to organise the funeral, while the theatre company from the Tivoli music hall where they had been set to perform helped Lily through this hard time, for which she was very grateful. She was far from home and there are no indications that she had her children there with her to say goodbye to their father when he was buried at Maitland Cemetery, Cape Town on 8 April 1914.

After fulfilling what remained of her contract in South Africa, Lily took her lonely journey home. Back in Britain she quickly returned to her life back on the stage, a necessity now that she was the sole family breadwinner. This was a position made even more tenuous by the outbreak in August of what would become the Great War, with all the upheavals this caused. However, Lily was lucky, her reputation was high and she never stopped working during the war and after a few variety performances in London when she first returned to Britain, her work  took a new direction with regular employment on two long-running stage shows. She first landed a plumb role in the new musical farce Mind Your Own Business, written by Charles Baldwin and directed by Ernest Dottridge. Boasting a cast of forty performers the show starred comedian Arnold Richardson as restaurant proprietor Nathaniel Bloggs, with Lily as his daughter Ella, Vera Hind as a 'Sicilian Syren' and Leyland Hodgson as Ella's sweetheart, Dick.

The show would prove popular as it toured the country and Lily stayed on as a principal member of the cast until the end of 1915. She remained with the company for the winter season panto, but in February 1916, she announced that once the pantomime ended that she would return back to performing in variety. This plan quickly changed, though, when she was snapped up for another musical My Son Sammy, which would provide Lily with work for the rest of the war and beyond. She was again playing one of the principal roles, that of Vera Openshaw, while the titular character Sammy was played by comedian Arthur White, whose antics carried the show. Described in a similar vein to Mind Your Own Business, the show was a musical farce and a topical one with numerous songs touching on the military, such as 'Military Mad' and 'The Chocolate Soldier', the latter sung with verve by Lily herself, for as throughout her career she was widely praised for her commanding presence on stage and the beauty of her singing.

My Son Sammy toured the country with great success, it consistently played to packed houses, audiences seemingly delighting in anything that distracted them from the grim news from the front. Sometimes during a stop over, the cast would break off from their normal routine to put on special performances for wounded servicemen in the numerous war hospitals dotted around the country. For instance, in October 1918, Lily and her fellow performers were at the Grand Theatre, Hanley and put on just such a variety performance at the local war hospital, where many of the wounded were stretchered in by members of the Royal Army Medical Corps. It was a great success and Lily shone on home turf where she 'delighted the audience with her charming rendering of “The end of a journey.” In response to a determined encore she gave the popular “Joan of Arc” in splendid style.'

A few days later the company moved on to Middlesbrough and it was whilst there that on 11 November 1918, that the armistice was signed and the war ended.

The show went on for two more years with Lily still playing her part. Her career was going well, but the increasingly poor health of her mother was a concern and in mid-May 1920, whilst in Wigan, Lily suffered a nervous breakdown due to stress. The Stage put this down to her punishing work schedule, noting that she had played over a thousand performances in My Son Sammy. This was doubtless a factor, but by now her mother was in the last weeks of a long and painful illness. Lily recovered and trouper that she was got back to work a fortnight later in St Helens. However, on 21 June 1920, Martha Longsdale died back in Derby, putting a stop once more to Lily's performances. She and her relatives met up three days later in Tunstall for her mother's burial in the local churchyard.

Following this traumatic event Lily briefly left the cast of My Son Sammy and by mid-July she was headlining at the Gaiety, Durham as the star of The Rainbow Girl, described in the bylines as 'The most gorgeous and refined attraction of modern times'. Perhaps her time on this show was simply to give her a break from her normal routine and to allow her to pull herself together, or maybe she found that she could not fit into the new show. Whatever the case, after only a month Lily returned to her regular role in My Son Sammy. And there she remained for the next year when in December 1921 a sequel Sammy in Society was produced. Lily reprised the role of Vera Openshaw, but only for a short run of performances. It was time to move on.

Top of the bill. Lily briefly headlines in The Rainbow Girl.

After this long stint of very fixed work Lily moved back into the world of variety and a life akin to that she had led early in her career, and on one occasion at least she is said to have toured abroad once more, this time in Madeira. Also according to her obituary perhaps harking back to her father's choral background, she also occasionally dabbled in oratorio. Her long career now usually saw her receiving top billing wherever she went, but there were fewer mentions of her in the press. There was one notable exception in 1923, albeit for all the wrong reasons, when on 4 November, her son Jack died at the age of 22. He had been ill for some time and his death again hit Lily hard and his passing and funeral were given conciliatory coverage in The Era newspaper. Now there was only Lily and her daughter Lillian, who within a few years also started to pursue a career in the music halls and theatres. Her mother carried on as before.

A photo of Lily from her obituary.

For the next five years Lily worked constantly, but as was the case with many music hall stars, the workload and peripatetic lifestyle started to tell and by her late 40s her health had begun to suffer. In Wolverhampton in August 1928 the end was signalled when she suffered a seizure and collapsed on stage. She sat down to complete her final song, but as soon as the curtain fell Lily was escorted out to a waiting ambulance. What the seizure boded is never made clear, but from what little can be gleaned it ended her career and her life. She never recovered and on 2 March 1929 at the age of 50 she died at the Derbyshire Royal Infirmary. 

Mow Cop Castle

Mow Cop Castle from the Staffordshire side.

To the north of Stoke-on-Trent and standing smack on the Staffordshire-Cheshire Border, the hill of Mow Cop dominates the respective skylines of both counties and is also very much a natural demarcation point. To the south, the low rolling hills of North Staffordshire leading up to the hill seem to suddenly give way to the vast flat expanse of the Cheshire plain on its northern side. Nowhere is this better appreciated than from the highest point on the hill, where a circular stone tower, low wall and archway sit perched on a great prow of millstone grit rock, part of a jagged ridge of stones that appears to erupt from the surrounding greenery.

In truth the ruggedness of the hill owes as much to centuries of quarrying as to the vagaries of nature, while the apparently ancient ruin, known to one and all as Mow Cop Castle, is in fact South Cheshire's and North Staffordshire's most famous folly, dating back at best to the late 1740s. Though solid documentary evidence relating to the 'castle's' construction seems to have vanished over time, it's most likely that it was actually built as Medieval-style summerhouse paid for by the wealthy Wilbraham family of Rode Hall, Cheshire, who were perhaps keen to mark the edge of their lands and make use of the spot from which to admire the spectacular views of the two counties. Construction of the tower, archway and wall seems to have been carried out by a family named Harding whose descendants then became keyholders for the tower under the Wilbrahams. However,  either the Wilbrahams or the Hardings had slipped up in constructing the tower where they did, as by straddling the border it infringed upon the Staffordshire estate of the Sneyd family of Keele Hall. There are confused scraps of folklore suggesting that this fact was know from the earliest times and that the Wilbrahams and Sneyds held joint ownership and access to the site, but again there is no conclusive evidence of this and arguments as to which family actually owned Mow Cop Castle would blight its early history and lead to litigation in the mid 19th century.

The tower today is nothing more than an empty stone shell, with bars on the windows and a grill over the doorway stopping anyone from getting inside, but when it was first constructed it was much more useful, comprising a lower and upper storey with a staircase, wooden floors, a roof, windows and a stout wooden door at its entrance. Keys to the door could be obtained at times from Rode Hall itself or - for the convenience of visitors - from a cottage near to the summer-house. Indeed, it appears that from very early in its history, the Wilbrahams were quite happy to let members of the public make use of the tower for their own recreations. As a result, the castle became a favourite picnic spot and playground for the locals and despite the competing claims over the years of families and landowners as to who owned what, the castle came to belong very much to the people of Mow Cop itself and their voices would be loud in determining its fate.

Primitive Methodism

A memorial stone commemorating the first camp
meeting held at Mow Cop in 1807.

The hill and castle also hold a special place in the religious history of the region as Mow Cop was very much the spiritual home to the Primitive Methodist movement that originated in North Staffordshire in the early part of the 19th century and the castle its unofficial symbol. The movement's founders, two Potteries-born Wesleyan preachers, Hugh Bourne and William Clowes, were hoping to restore a spirit of revivalism to mainstream Methodism. Inspired by tales of American camp meetings which they felt mirrored the  outdoor preaching of John Wesley and the early Methodists, the men organised the first in a series of camp meetings at Mow Cop on May 31, 1807. This drew a sizeable crowd and resulted in many converts, but despite its success the Wesleyan Church frowned on the fervent brand of evangelism employed and refused to recognise these converts, while Bourne and Clowes were reprimanded for their actions. There was probably an element of snobbishness in the censure too, as both Bourne and Clowes were uneducated working men and their brand of Methodism was decidedly working class in its following, many of Bourne's and Clowes's early converts being some of the roughest of working class men and women from in and around Mow Cop and the Potteries.

As Bourne and Clowes refused to stop holding further open-air meetings, both men were dismissed from the church and after failing to gain re-admittance in 1810 they took the step of founding Primitive Methodism, and in February 1812 in a meeting held at Tunstall, they took the name The Society of the Primitive Methodists. From these humble beginnings the Primitive Methodists would grow into a considerable faction of the Methodist church with a wide following across Britain and branches in the United States and around the British Empire and maintained their independence until the Methodist Union of 1932.

Kings of the Castle
The Wilbrahams left Rode Hall for Lancashire in 1800 and though some repairs were made to the castle over the years, it suffered the ravages of time, neglect and petty vandalism. The floors and wooden fittings were pilfered or destroyed, the door was taken down and put into storage, while the Wilbrahams and Sneyds still debated their claims to the site. Matters came to a head in 1847 when the Wilbrahams refitted the old door to the tower and locked it, which effectively restricted access to the Sneyds and the public at large who had previously had free access to the structure. The next year the Sneyd family's men broke into the tower which act resulted in a court case in 1850 that sought to establish who actually owned the castle. However, faced with a baffling array of contradictory evidence, the jury in the case returned the verdict that the Wilbrahams owned the castle but the Sneyds owned the land, which left them back at square one. The judge refused to accept this fudged verdict and instead pronounced a joint ownership and that henceforth both families should hold keys to the castle, joint responsibilities for its upkeep and with a few provisos both families had to maintain public access to the hill and castle.

However, probably as a result of this apportioning of responsibility the castle gradually fell into a state of complete neglect over the next half a century and by the beginning of the 20th century had effectively been reduced to the bare stone shell seen today. Only the locals seem to have continued to appreciate the castle and as was seen when the castle passed to its last private owner they rallied to its cause.

By the late 19th century most of the quarries that had dotted Mow Cop had closed down, however, in 1918 and 1922, a local businessman, Joseph Lovatt, bought up the competing land rights from the Wilbraham and Sneyd trustees and having cleared the debris from some of the old quarries near to the castle, he began fresh diggings for building material. Though he was himself a Methodist with an interest in preserving Mow Cop Castle (which he now owned) Lovatt's actions raised fears amongst the locals that his quarrying might undermine or damage its foundations. Moreover, Lovatt fenced off the castle, which increased local ire at being excluded from their local beauty spot and they protested and eventually broke down the walls and fencing. This prompted a second court case to determine the future of the castle, the villagers arguing that they had common rights to use the castle and its environs. The case dragged on for three years and when it finally concluded the judge pronounced that the castle was not built on common land and that the rights of the locals were more a matter of accepted custom than a matter of law. Though the old custom carried some weight, the problem was that no one was sure exactly what their right of access to the castle entailed and the local authorities on either side of the county border had made no efforts to clarify these.

Lovatt may have won the case, but it had not done his reputation any favours and he soon determined to get this troublesome parcel of land off his hands as soon as possible. To this end in 1927, he offered it to the Bourne Trust, the successors to the Primitive Methodist movement, these being an obvious choice to pass the site on to. After careful consideration, though, the Trust determined that its upkeep was beyond their means and refused to take up Lovatt's offer. So, in 1935, Lovatt offered the castle and six acres of land including the famous local stone pillar Old Man of Mow, to the National Trust. This was accepted and on 30 May 1937, the deeds were formally handed over at a grand ceremony attended by ten thousand people.

Since then the National Trust has maintained the structure pretty much in the state that they received it. Matters of ownership and public access are a thing of the past and though the castle itself is now closed for safety's sake and to dissuade potential vandals, people can still visit and walk around the structure, while its hilltop vantage point with its impressive views across two counties is open to all.

Looking out over Staffordshire from Mow Cop

Reference: Philip R. Leese, Mow Cop: A Working Village (2010); Mow Cop: Living on the Hill (2011)

The Railways Come to Town

Railways, or at least horse-drawn or gravity drawn railroads, running to or from canal wharfs, had been employed on a small scale by local collieries for a long time. By 1750, there was scarcely any important colliery that did not have its own set of rails. Mechanical railway engines, however, did not appear until the early years of the 19th century and in 1825, the world's first line, the Stockton and Darlington Railway was opened for business.

Stoke Station in 1863
(Author's collection)

Many entrepreneurs around the country saw the potential offered by this new form of transport, but most of the leading local potters failed to take up the cause of the railway. Thus, though many of the early lines ran tantalisingly close to the Potteries, little if any real effort was made to secure the district its own line. At first, this was no great problem. Early trains were slow and prone to breaking down, nor was there as yet a comprehensive system of railways, whereas there was a tried-and-tested network of canals. Also, during the years 1834-1837, there were the series of strikes organised by the potters union, which left manufacturers unwilling to risk their fortunes on a railway venture. From the late 1820s, however, many began to feel that the district needed to grasp the nettle and get its own railway line.

In 1833, the Grand Junction Railway obtained an Act of Parliament to construct a line from Liverpool to Birmingham. This would not run through the Potteries, the closest it came was through Madeley and Whitmore. Though transport could be laid on from the Potteries for those using the line, it still necessitated a coach journey of eight miles before passengers even saw a train.

Because of this unsatisfactory situation, in 1835, the Potteries Branch Railway Committee was formed to petition for a Potteries branch to the new line. They requested George Stevenson to survey a route to the Potteries which would be presented to the Grand Junction Railway, The Grand Junction Railway, opened to great acclaim in July 1837, Crowds of people from the Potteries flocked to Madeley and Whitmore to watch the first trains pass, and it seemed only a matter of time before the Potteries were linked to the line, but by 1839 and on through to 1844, the mood of the local promoters became one of disillusionment. The trade depression of the early 1840's, made money scarce. The G.J.R and the Manchester and Birmingham Railway Companies, made but later broke promises to the P.B.R.C., while the Potteries petitioners themselves made many mistakes. By the end of 1844, the rot was complete and several of the interested parties showed themselves to be in favour of an independent line through the Potteries. It was not until 1845, though, that the real revival of interest in Potteries' railway schemes came to fruition with the 'Railway Mania', that swept the country.

The reason for the mania was an upturn in the economy. The depression ended, money became plentiful and investments in the new railways grew into a frenzy. The Potteries were seen as a growing industrial centre and as a result there was a rash of schemes for local railway connections. The competition to supply a Potteries line became so heated that the Board of Trade postponed its decision on the local proposals to allow a year's cooling off period. During this hiatus, the Potteries' interests finally responded with some speed and determination. A new, dynamic railway company came into being, the North Staffordshire Railway Company. This soon challenged the dominance of the Grand Junction Railway in the west midlands and north-west. The new company then took a major step towards securing parliamentary recognition by taking over its major transport rival in the district, the Trent and Mersey Canal. The N.S.R.'s petition to Parliament was well received and as a result three Acts authorising the N.S.R's construction of a line through the Potteries came into effect in 1846.

The first section of the new railway line from Stoke to Norton Bridge, was completed in 1848. Stoke was the main terminus for the area and here the N.S.R. stamped its signature on the area by constructing what was then one of the most impressive buildings in the Potteries - Stoke Station, From here, the first train to use the line, the No, 1 train Dragon, pulling a series of six-wheeled crimson carnages bearing the company logo the Staffordshire Knot, inaugurated rail travel in the Potteries later that same year. By 1848, the remaining sections of the local network been laid down and from this time the North Staffordshire Railway became a force to be reckoned with.

In 1847, even as the main route was being constructed, the idea for a Potteries Loop line linking the towns was been mooted, but no progress was made until 1858. That year the North Staffordshire Railway gained permission to extend Earl Granville's private colliery line to Hanley, A freight line was opened in December 1861 and the first passenger service started in 1864. The original loop line stretch from Hanley through Etruria, Burslem, Tunstall and Kidsgrove and was later extended to Fenton. By 1873, there would be a station  in Sun Street, Hanley and a service of 50 trains a day running at 15 minute intervals.

The advent of the railway also allowed the locals to visit other towns and cities they offered a quick and relatively cheap method of getting around the country. Thus, from the 1850's, it became possible to catch excursion trains from Stoke Station, to places such as Chester, Birkenhead and the Isle of Man.

Smith Child - Admiral of the Blue

The deck of an 18th century warship.
Illustration by W. H. Overend.

Smith Child, later an admiral in the Royal Navy who also dabbled locally in the pottery industry, was born at the family seat of Boyles Hall, Audley in early 1729, being baptised in the local church on 15 May that year. He was the eldest son of Smith Child of Audley and the wealthy heiress Mary nee Baddeley, whose family had a long Staffordshire pedigree. The Childs by contrast were originally a Worcestershire family one branch of which had migrated to North Staffordshire, settling in Audley. They had once possessed considerable property, but most of this had been lost by the future admiral's father, whom local historian John Ward described as 'a man of polished manners, but wasteful in his habits'. His marriage to Mary Baddeley was therefore quite a coup by which his family inherited several of the Baddeley estates that his eldest boy, Smith, would inherit. In a slightly comic preamble, Ward then continued his account of Mr Child to describe how his son came to join the Royal Navy.

'Once, during a visit to Scot­land, (where he went on mercantile business,) he was introduced to and entertained by the Duke of Hamilton, whom he accompanied in one of his hunting excursions (such as are described in Sir Walter Scott's Waverley), and being in that country during the expedition of the ill-fated Charles Stuart, in 1745, he was twice arrested, after the defeat of the rebel forces, on suspicion of being the Pretender, to whom he bore a strong resemblance. He travelled from Scotland in company with Lord Glenorchy, who advised him to bring his son up to the Navy, and introduced him to Lord Anson, the Circumnavigator, at that time one of the Lords of the Admiralty'.

- Ward, p.86

Enjoying the patronage of the politician Earl Gower as well as Vice-Admiral Lord George Anson, young Smith Child entered the navy in 1747 as a midshipman aboard the 50 gun HMS Chester, under Captain Sir Richard Spry. He was commissioned lieutenant on 7 November 1755 whilst serving in the Mediterranean aboard the Unicorn, under Captain Matthew Buckle, and returned home to become a junior lieutenant aboard the ancient Nore guardship Princess Royal commanded by Captain Richard Collins. He subsequently served as a lieutenant on various ships, seeing action during the Seven Years War at the sieges of Louisbourg in North America in 1758 and at Pondicherry, India, during 1760-1.

A distant view of  Newfield Hall, left.

During the peace of 1763, Smith Child returned home and erected a large pottery factory in Tunstall, that between 1763-1790 produced a range of earthenware goods. The following year he married Margaret Roylance of Newfield, Staffordshire  acquiring a significant estate from her family. Initially he lived with his wife at Newcastle-Under-Lyme, but the following year he inherited his uncle’s seat, Newfield Hall, Tunstall, a large three storey house with a five-bay entrance front and seven-bay side elevation, that enjoyed impressive views over much of the potteries. In 1770, he moved into the hall rebuilding it and in his time on shore cultivated a keen interest in agricultural and other useful pursuits. Here the Childs lived a happy life and raised their five sons: Thomas, who as a midshipman was drowned at sea in 1782; John George whose son later became heir to the family estates; Smith who died without children; and Roylance and Baddeley, whose names recalled their most recent family history.

At the beginning of what became the American Revolutionary War, Smith Child resumed his naval duties and in early in 1777, was given command of the hospital ship Nightingale in the Thames. Later that year he was promoted commander of the store ship HMS Pacific on 30 October 1777, taking the ship out to North America in the summer of 1778. 

A typical third rate ship of the line like Child's ship HMS Europe.

He was posted captain on 15 May 1780, taking temporary command of the Raisonnable, but in August 1780 in the most important move of his career, Captain Child was given command of the 64-gun HMS Europe and took part in two important sea battles for the control of the strategic Chesapeake Bay. As part of Admiral Marriot Arbuthnot's fleet, Child participated in the Battle of Cape Henry on 16 March in which the British fought off a French fleet attempting to enter the Bay. Positioned in the vanguard of Arbuthnot's fleet, Europe was one of three ships left exposed by the admiral’s poor tactics, losing eight crewmen killed and nineteen wounded to the punishing French bombardment. The British won this round despite their casualties, but the vital waterway would be the scene of one more dramatic fight. 

This was the Battle of the Chesapeake, also known as the Battle of the Capes, fought against a slightly larger French fleet on 5 September 1781, when HMS Europe along with the 74-gun HMS Montagu, formed the leading part of the centre division of Admiral Sir Thomas Graves' fleet, and was heavily involved in the fighting that ensued. These two ships suffered considerable damage in the intense two hour fight, at the end of which Europe was left leaking badly, her rigging cut up and a number of guns dismounted. Nine members of her crew were killed, and a further 18 wounded. Outgunned and battered by the encounter, the British fleet eventually withdrew from the action, finally losing control of the bay, which soon after resulted in the the Franco-American victory at Yorktown. The knock-on effect of this saw the withdrawal of British forces from the war and Britain's eventual recognition of the newly-born United States of America. This outcome was no discredit to Smith Child, though, who had fought well and his standing in the navy enabled him to obtain preferment for most of Europe's officers when the ship returned home and was paid off in March 1782.

18th Century naval officers and crewmen.

After serving for some time in the Impress Service at Liverpool, in November 1795 Smith Child was given command of the HMS Commerce de Marseille, a French ship that had been surrendered to the Royal Navy in the 1793 Siege of Toulon. The ship, originally a 118-gun three-decker, had been converted to a store and transport ship, and was loaded with 1,000 men and stores for transport supposedly on a secret mission to the West Indies. The ship was in somewhat poor condition before sailing and she was further damaged in a storm not long after setting out on her voyage; as a result Child was forced to return to Portsmouth.

Child was promoted to Rear Admiral on 14 February 1799, but saw no further action. Subsequently promoted to Vice Admiral on 23 April 1804, and Admiral of the Blue (the junior position in the rank of full admiral) on 31 July 1810. 

At home, as well as being a noted pottery manufacturer, the Admiral served at times as a Justice of the Peace for Staffordshire, a Deputy-Lieutenant of the county, and was a highly respected member of the local landed aristocracy. He died of gout of the stomach on 21 January 1813 at Newfield, and was buried in St. Margaret’s Church, Wolstanton, under a plain tombstone. His son and heir John had died two years previously, so Smith Child's estate passed to his five year-old grandson who would later become the Conservative M.P, and noted philanthropist Sir Smith Child.

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

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