Little Gypsy Girl

Of all the famous names who have hailed from the Potteries, few in their lifetime gave more honest, unalloyed pleasure than Gertrude Astbury, who as ‘Gertie Gitana’ became a darling of the music halls prior to World War One. Her talent and staying power were considerable. In her prime, her name on the bill was enough to ensure a full house.and even in the twilight years of her career, she was still able to command a large audience.

Gertrude Mary Astbury, the eldest child of pottery turner William Astbury and Lavinia nee Kilkenny, a teacher at St Peter’s R. C. School in Cobridge, was born on 28 December 1887 at 7 Shirley Street, Longport, but the family lived at various addresses after that. When in 1954 the City Council decided to rename Frederick Street, behind the Theatre Royal in Hanley, as Gitana Street in her honour, Gertie wrote a letter to The Sentinel saying that she was very proud of the honour noting that ‘Gitana-street is adjacent to the theatre stage is appropriate.’ She then added, ‘I don’t think anyone knows of it, but it may be of some slight interest to mention that I actually lived in Frederick-street; my mother had a small shop there. I was three years old when we moved there and we were there for two or three years.’ There is no official evidence to support this story, but at the time of the 1891 census, Gertie was certainly living with her grandparents in Bucknall New Road, Hanley, while her parents and brother James lived in Burslem. Perhaps the family moved to Fredrick Street after the census was taken?

From a very early age, Gertie proved to be something of a musical prodigy. Apparently as a toddler she delighted in putting on performances for her dolls and by the age of four she had been enrolled into Thomas Tomkinson’s Gypsy Children as a male impersonator, singer and comedienne and was soon earning star billing as ‘Little Gitana’ (the Spanish word for a female gypsy). The tale told of her discovery is that she was seen dancing in the street (arguably in Frederick Street, Hanley) by two girls attached to the troupe who befriended her. She then went along to one of the rehearsals and began copying the moves. Thomas Tomkinson noticed her and recognising her ability, applied to her parents to let her join the troupe. Once in the line-up and out touring with the show first around the Potteries, then through Wales, Gertie honed her skills and there was no doubting her burgeoning talent and her performances were regularly singled out for praise in press reports. In 1896, her career was given a helping hand by two music hall veterans, James and Mabel Wignall, known professionally as Jim and Belle O’Connor, who took her away from the Gypsy Children and under their wing. Though the O’Connors were apparently somewhat protective of their young charge, it was not in any sinister way and Gertie always referred to them affectionately as ‘Uncle and Auntie.’ It was thanks to them that at only eight years of age, Gertie made her music hall debut at the Tivoli in Barrow-in-Furnace, where she sang the song, 'Dolly at Home.' Two years later at the age of ten, she had a major billing at The Argyle in Birkenhead, and her first London appearance came in 1900. 

By the age of 15, Gertie was earning over £100 per week, much more than her father earned in a year. At the age of 17, she topped the bill for the first time at The Ardwick Empire at Manchester. From late 1903 onwards, though often still appearing as Little Gitana, she was also being referred to increasingly as Gertie Gitana, the stage name she would adopt for the rest of her career. As she grew into womanhood, though, her skills and repertoire expanded and as well as singing she entertained by tap dancing, yodelling, and playing the saxophone, a relatively new instrument developed in the States and which at that time was something of a novelty in Britain. Her music hall repertoire of songs over her career included ‘All in a Row’, 'A Schoolgirl's Holiday', 'We've been chums for fifty years', 'When the Harvest Moon is Shining', 'Silver Bell',  'Queen of the Cannibal Isles', 'You do Look Well in Your Old Dutch Bonnet', 'Never Mind', 'When I see the Lovelight Gleaming', and most famously 'Nellie Dean' which she first sang in 1907. It was a song her younger brother James had heard in the United States and was an instant success for Gertie, becoming her signature tune. Her first gramophone recordings, dating from 1911–1913 (some of which can be heard online), were made in London on the Jumbo label.

During the Great War, like many music hall performers Gertie turned her talents to entertaining the war wounded in hospitals or raising funds for the injured and she gained a following with the men in the trenches as a forces sweetheart. After the war, she appeared in pantomime, most notably as the principal boy in Puss in Boots, or as Little Red Riding Hood, and Cinderella. One amusing incongruous tale from this period is that she was reputed to have said the line in Cinderella, 'Here I sit, all alone, I think I'll play my saxophone', before removing the instrument from the stage chimney and bashing out a tune*. Two musical shows were specially written for her: Nellie Dean and Dear Louise, and in 1928, despite initial opposition from the O’Connors, Gertie married her leading man in the latter, dancer Don Ross. Don was as ambitious and driven as his wife and would later prove to be quite the impresario, bringing over one of the first Vaudeville strip-tease artists after a visit to the States, running a three-ring circus and organising variety shows; he later becoming King Rat of the Grand Order of Water Rats and founder and first president of the British Music Hall Society.

After the shows had run their course, Gertie returned to the variety scene, working for some time in partnership with blackface performer G. H. Elliott and an up-and-coming comedian Ted Ray, who liked her immensely. In his autobiography, Ray described both Elliott and Gertie as charming and courteous professionals, who never let their acts devolve into smut and no matter what their moods or what else was going on in their lives, never let an audience down or turned in a sub-par performance. 

However, determined to retire at 50, by her own design Gertie’s career was now winding down. Made rich by her tireless work over the years (“No gutters for Gertie.” she sometimes commented wryly on her wealth) she was able to retire in 1938, but the old trouper could not be kept down and ten years later she made a short but very successful comeback with other old music hall stars in the show Thanks for the Memory produced by her husband. The show was the centrepiece of the Royal Command Performance in 1948. Her final appearance was on 2 December 1950 at the Empress Theatre, Brixton. She retired completely after that and spent her remaining years quietly, though she increased her fortune by speculating successfully on the stock market. On her death she left just over £23,584 in her will, equivalent to £484,727.62 in 2024.

Gertrude Ross, nee Astbury, alias Gertie Gitana, died of cancer on 5 January 1957 in Hampstead, London, aged 69, and was buried in Wigston Cemetery, Wigston Magna, Leicestershire, where her husband had been born. Some lines from her most famous song, 'Nellie Dean' are engraved on the gravestone.

By all reports, Gertie, though no pushover after years toughing it in showbiz, was an incredibly good natured and generous woman, well-liked not only by her legion of fans, but also by her fellow performers who felt her loss. After her death her friend, comedian Ted Ray, wrote ‘She was the most gentle, loveable person I ever met… A perfect artiste in every sense of the word. I place her among the immortals.’ In his book My Old Man, former Prime Minister John Major, recalled how years later his father (who trod the boards as part of the act ‘Drum and Major’) expressed similar sentiments about Gertie. Her death made the TV and radio news of the time, papers including the Sentinel, carried glowing obituaries to the star and memorials were mooted, though the only one of note at the time was a memorial bench that was unveiled in Edinburgh. In the Potteries memorials to Gertie Gitana have for the most part been fleeting. The Gertie Gitana pub (later The Stage Door) has come and gone, likewise Gitana’s pub in Hartshill and today few save die-hard local historians or music hall enthusiasts remember her. But her name lives on in Gitana Street, an honour that never ceased to delight and surprise her. As her husband Don Ross recalled, on the day she died Gertie was fading away, but talking with him about this and that when unbidden she suddenly brightened up and said, ‘Fancy them naming that street in Hanley after me.’

Modern day Gitana Street, Hanley.
Source: Google Earth

*Comedian Roy Hudd in his foreword to Ann Oughton’s biography of Gertie Gitana, recalled asking Don Ross in later years if Gertie really had used the amusing ‘… I think I’ll play my saxophone’ line in Cinderella, but Don neither confirmed nor denied it.

Reference: Ann Oughton, Thanks for the Memory, passim; Ted Ray, Raising the Laughs, pp. 86-87; Evening Sentinel 15 February 1954 . 

Ken Ray's Soldiers: Private Philip Yates

Ken Ray, a long-time researcher into the lives of local soldiers has assembled an impressive list of North Staffordshire men who served in the Napoleonic Wars, the Crimea and the numerous colonial conflicts Britain participated in during the 19th and early 20th centuries. He has very kindly given me access to some of his documents which chart the lives and careers of ordinary men from the region who might otherwise have been forgotten. This is one of those stories...

. . . .

Private Philip Yates, Royal Regiment of Horse Guards (Oxford Blues)

Napoleonic Wars

The Life Guards and Royal Horse
Guards (foreground) at Waterloo

Philip Yates was born in Stoke or possibly Hanley Green in 1784. His parents remain unknown and nothing is known of his background though he may have received some education in early life as he was later able to sign his name, albeit in a rather shaky hand. He initially worked locally as a plumber and glazier before attesting for the Royal Horse Guards at Nantwich, Cheshire on 13th March 1805 at the age of 21. 

Yates saw service with his regiment in the Peninsula War in Spain and France at the battles of Vittoria (1813) and Toulouse (1814). At Waterloo he served in Lieutenant Colonel Clement Hill's troop Royal Horse Guards which with the Life Guards and King's Dragoon Guards formed the Household Brigade of heavy cavalry, Yates's regiment forming the second reserve rank of the brigade. As the reserve, the regiment should have held back to exploit any opportunities missed by the front rank in any charge and then cover the withdrawal, but when great cavalry charge of the Household and Union Brigades was launched to counter the first full-scale French attack on the Allied line, the Blues followed suit, clashing with a large force of French cuirassiers who were advancing in support of the French infantry. Unlike the front line regiments, though, they did not advance too far, maintained their formation and made an orderly withdrawal back to the main line. The Blues also saw plenty of action later in the day, skirmishing repeatedly with the French cavalry during their charges against the Allied line in the late afternoon. 

After Waterloo and Napoleon's abdication, the Royal Horse Guards remained in France until 1816, when they returned to their base at Windsor and the rest of Private Yates' service was at home. On his discharge from the army on 5th February 1827, Yates was described as being 43 years old, 5' 10½” tall, with brown hair, grey eyes and a fresh complexion; his conduct as a soldier had been good. The reason for his discharge was due to length of service and amounted to 22 years and 43 days with the Colours, plus the 2 extra years service granted to all Waterloo veterans.

Yates returned to the Potteries after his discharge, travelling from Windsor to Hanley Green, where he picked up the threads of his old life, helped on by a Chelsea pension. Five years later on 24th June 1832, he married widow Elizabeth Pope (possibly nee Orton) in Hanley. In 1841 they were living in Brunswick Street, Shelton. Philip was back working as a glazier, Elizabeth's trade is hard to read as too is that of her 15 year old son from her previous marriage, John Pope, though he may have been a pottery packer; the fourth member of the household was Philip and Elizabeth's eight year old daughter Elizabeth. On a personal note, when I looked at the 1841 census entry, I was surprised and pleased to discover that Philip Yates and his family lived only two doors away from my great, great, great grandparents Thomas and Ann Cooper and their family.

One Philip Yates died in 1847 aged 66 and was buried on 26th December 1847. He had lived long enough to apply for the Military General Service Medal, as it was awarded with the two clasps for his Peninsula War service.

Reference: UK, Military Campaign Medal and Award Rolls, 1793-1949, Battle of Waterloo 1815, p.23; UK, Military Campaign Medal and Award Rolls, 1793-1949: Napoleonic Wars 1793-1815, p.193; UK, Waterloo Medal Roll, 1815; UK, Royal Hospital, Chelsea: Regimental Registers of Pensioners, 1713-1882, p.58; WO97 Royal Hospital Chelsea: Soldiers' Service Documents;1841 census for Shelton, Stoke-on-Trent.

Elizabeth Smith and the Mason Connection

In the early 2000s I was contacted by Ernie Luck a collector and researcher of Mason's pottery who had been looking into a vague connection he had heard of existing between Captain E. J. Smith of the Titanic and the Mason and Spode pottery dynasties, a link he had gone on to substantiate. As well as providing me with much other information that helped me in my own research, Ernie subsequently sent me the following article detailing the Smith-Mason connection which he had written for the Mason Collector's Club newsletter in 2003 and he has kindly allowed me to reproduce it here in full.

Elizabeth Smith (1855-1942) was the eldest of nine children born to Captain Smith's uncle George and his wife Thirza nee Leigh, and though her own story is nowhere near as glamourous as that of her famous cousin it is nevertheless an interesting piece of local history showing the connections - though often distant and accidental - that could build up between disparate families in such a self-contained region as the Staffordshire Potteries once were.

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Charles Spode Mason and his Descendants

by

Ernie Luck

Charles Spode Mason was the only son of Charles James Mason’s marriage to his first wife Sarah Spode. I have been unable to trace a record of his birth or his christening, but a consensus of the age attributed to him on various documents suggests he was born in 1820 or 1821.

Despite the ultimate bankruptcy of the business, his father Charles James was, by and large, a very wealthy and successful business man.  By contrast Charles Spode Mason appeared to have none of these attributes.  This may have been due to his privileged upbringing leading to slothful ways, or maybe Charles James was too busy with the business to ensure his son applied himself to his education; whatever the reason, the evidence, gleaned from a variety of sources suggests that he had neither a successful marriage nor a successful business.

Charles Spode did not get married until 1856 – the year of his father’s death – when he was 35 years old.  He married Elizabeth Leese, a sixteen year old, at St Paul’s Church, Stoke on Trent, on the 21 September.  Their only child, Mark Spode Mason, was born on 11 Feb 1858 at Terrace Buildings, Fenton.  Incidentally, Terrace Buildings Works was one of the lesser known Mason manufactories which, according to Reginald Haggar, was built by Charles James in 1835 and vacated in 1848.

Although Charles Spode was described as a Solicitor on his marriage certificate, the 1861 census return tells a different story because on that document he is described as having ‘No profession or trade’.  But it is the transcript of a letter held in the Haggar Archives which provide a rather damning insight into his professional status.  The letter was written in July 1933 to J. V. Goddard from a Mr J. Beardmore.  He writes ‘Midway between 1860 and 1870, it was intended that I should study law, and I was for a time in the offices of a firm of lawyers, and Mr Charles Mason called several times, a ‘wreck’, the butt, I fear of the clerks who spoke of him as a ‘broken down solicitor’, meaning perhaps ‘not legally qualified’’.  Things must have continued to go down hill for Charles because when he died in 1878 at the age of 57 years, he was a resident of the Stoke upon Trent Workhouse. 

My research of Charles’s son Mark Spode Mason was only accomplished with the assistance of his great-granddaughter Mrs Marjorie Burrett, who lives in East Yorkshire and a distant relative who lives in New Zealand (one of the Quaker Mason’s).  Without their prior research, progress would have been slow, if not impossible.  Although their research was accurate in essentials, the devil lay in the detail and my efforts to put some ‘meat on the bones’ proved to be not as easy as I had anticipated.  With two children born out of wedlock, his propensity to move frequently, and his use of ‘James’ as a first name, trying to find him or the family on the census was a researcher’s nightmare.

Mark married Elizabeth Smith at St Giles Church in Newcastle-under-Lyme on 23 April 1877. Elizabeth’s younger brother and sister, William and Emily were the witnesses.  Elizabeth was connected with another famous person; she was a cousin of Edward Smith, Captain of the ill-fated Titanic.

Left Elizabeth Smith (standing) and her sister Sarah, right Commander E.J. Smith. Elizabeth's marriage to Mark Mason forged a link between the Mason and Spode dynasties and the captain of the Titanic.

Elizabeth had two children before her marriage to Mark and there must be a serious doubt as to whether he was the father of Elizabeth’s first child, Ann, as he was only 16 years of age when she was born. Ann, was born on 28 July 1874 in the Union Workhouse, Chell (near Tunstall) and registered as ‘Ann Smith’ – no fathers name was provided. It looks as if Elizabeth’s family could not afford to provide for her and her child, or perhaps they threw her out because of what then, would have been a shameful event - their daughter having a child out of wedlock. How times have changed. On the 1881 census Ann, recorded as ‘Anne Smith Mason’, was living with her grandparents, George and Thirza Smith in May Bank, Wolstanton.

Elizabeth’s next child, Lydia Mason Smith, was born at May Bank on the 4 March 1877, seven weeks before her marriage to Mark.  On the 1881 census she is staying at Goose Street, Newcastle under Lyme with her grandmother, Elizabeth Mason, widow of Charles Spode Mason.

Mark and Elizabeth’s third child, Florence Coyney Mason, was born on 26 March 1879 at Goose Street, Newcastle.  She was undoubtedly named after Mark’s Aunt, Florence Elizabeth Coyney.

Two years later the family had travelled up to the north east of the country and on the 1881 census, Mark, (now calling himself James), his wife Elizabeth, and two-year old Florence were staying at a lodging house in Northowram, Yorks.  Some of the occupants were described as cutlery grinders which has significance because the occupation on Mark’s death certificate was recorded as ‘scissor grinder’. Why did Mark decide to move away from the Potteries, leaving the two oldest children with the grandparents? Why call himself James?  His Aunt, Elizabeth Spode, left him an inheritance to be paid on his twenty first birthday; was there some connection, or did he leave the area because of debts?  You can but speculate.

Their next child, Elizabeth, was born at 2 Smith Street, Hartlepool, on the 1 September 1884.  Elizabeth was the only child actually registered by Mark.  The name and surname of the father is recorded as ‘James Spence Mason’ on the certificate.  The name of the Registrar was Spence, so this may possible account for the discrepancy in Mark’s middle name.

Mark and Elizabeth’s last child, Charles Spode Mason - obviously named after his grand-father - was born on 25 April 1889 at 121 King Edward Street, Grimsby.  The family had finally settled in Great Grimsby, Lincolnshire; a major fishing area.

‘At noon, on Friday, 20 February 1891, an inquest was held at the Great Coates Railway Station, before the District Coroner (Dr C. B. Moody) inquiring into the circumstances attending the death of James [Mark] Mason, 33 years of age, scissor grinder, late residing at Drakes Buildings, Grimsby.  From the evidence produced it seems the deceased, who had been peculiar in his conduct for two or three days past, was observed walking along the Railway from Grimsby to Great Coates, on Thursday morning week.  After standing somewhat irresolute on the line, he watched the morning express from Grimsby approach and deliberately flung himself in front of the Engine; the guard iron struck him on the head and turned him out of the way, and when assistance arrived some few minutes later he was found lying in a ditch beside the railway line.  Life was then quite extinct.’  

So reads the opening paragraphs of the report of the inquest.  In her testimony, Mark’s wife Elizabeth told of the great difficulty they had experienced in maintaining the family of six since Christmas and how this had preyed on Mark’s mind.  At the end of the proceedings, the jury, in an act of generosity, kindly devoted their fees to Elizabeth because of her straightened circumstances.  There were no social services to fall back on, in those days. 

It is only recently that the true circumstances of Mark’s death have been unearthed.  Prior to this the family had always understood that Mark had been killed at a level-crossing on his way home – ‘drunk as usual’.  No doubt the truth had been suppressed to avoid causing the children any undue distress.

Mark’s widow Elizabeth remarried the following year - with five children to bring up perhaps out of necessity.  She married George William Johnson, a fisherman, on the 25 Dec. 1892 at St John’s Church, New Clee.  By the time of the 1901 census, Elizabeth had two more children, a son, George Johnson, 8 years’ old, and a daughter, Gertrude Johnson, 5 years old.  It was Gertrude who cared for her mother when she became old and infirm.

By the turn of the century, nearly all of Mark’s children had left home. Lydia had married John Cardy in 1896 and by the time of the 1901 census had borne three offspring; John, Florence Annie and George Hugh.  It is possible more children followed.

Florence Coyney Mason married George Illingworth on the 1 January 1908, at the Church of St Peter in Bradford. They continued to live in the Bradford area and, as far as I know, they did not have any children.

Elizabeth married Swanson Carnes Trushell on the 26 August 1901 and had seven children over the next twenty years. Their eldest, Sidney Edward Trushell, is the father of Marjorie Burrett nee Trushell, who has provided me with a lot of information.  Most, if not all, of the descendants of Elizabeth Mason and Swanson Trushell are known right up to the present time.  They are too numerous to detail, but are illustrated on the accompanying family tree, although the most recent members of the family have been omitted to protect their anonymity.  The eldest living descendant is Elizabeth’s daughter (Mark’s grand-daughter), Joyce Coyney Clarke nee Trushell.

Charles Spode Mason Junior, the youngest of Mark’s children, died of TB at the age of 36 years on 24 January 1926.  He was employed as a Brewer’s cellar man and was staying at his mother’s house at the time of his death, so presumably he had not married.

We know very little of Elizabeth Smith’s first child Ann, except that she had a family and there are descendants living in America.

Acknowledgments: My special thanks to Marjorie Burrett, (a direct descendant of Miles Mason and Josiah Spode 1) and Lyane Kendall of New Zealand, a distant relative of the Mason family, for providing details of the Mark Spode Mason family tree.  My own small contribution was to provide a little more detail on the individuals and to successfully trace the whereabouts of an inscribed pottery mug presented to Mark Spode Mason shortly after his fifteenth birthday.  The mug in question was given to The Spode Museum Trust, Stoke in 1975 by a relative, to avoid any family dispute over ownership.

References: Birth, Marriage and Death certificates and Census Returns from the Family Record Centre London; The Grimsby News Fri. 20 Feb. 1891; extract of letter in the Haggar archives from the research notes of Peter Roden

Photo of Elizabeth and Sarah Smith courtesy of the late Marjorie Burrett.

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. 

What the Potteries Gave to Basketball

The Trenton basketball team 1896-97. Fred Cooper is bottom left with
the ball, his friend Al Bratton is bottom right.

In 1896, Frederick Cooper, a distant American cousin of mine, earned himself a place in the history books through the simple act of accepting a fee. Several years earlier, a dynamic new game called basketball had been invented that was gaining a strong following in the various YMCAs on America's east coast. Fred, already a keen sportsman had like many others quickly warmed to the game, becoming the star player and captain of the highly successful Trenton YMCA team that for the previous three years had dominated the emerging leagues. At first the new game had been played for fun and entertainment, but the groundswell of support soon saw seats being sold for popular teams and inevitably the money trickled back to the players that the crowds wanted to see. The result was that in 1896 Fred was the first to accept payment for a game and in doing so became the world's first professional basketball player.

Though he would make his name in the United States, Fred Cooper was actually born at 21 Bethesda Street, Shelton on 25 March 1874, the fifth of seven children – six boys and one girl – born to Thomas Cooper and Ann, nee Simpson. Fred's father, Thomas, had started out as a working potter but over the years had moved into small scale pottery manufacture. However, in the mid-1880s, in the wake of what was later described in Fred's obituary as 'some business reverses', Thomas and Ann decided to emigrate and join their eldest child, William who was already settled in the States, working at the Greenwood Pottery in Trenton, New Jersey. The Coopers left Britain early in 1886, travelling as steerage passengers (i.e. 3rd class) aboard the SS England, arriving at New York on 27 May 1886, from where they made the relatively short journey south west across the state to Trenton. As it turned out, Thomas would only enjoy his new home in America for a few years, dying in 1891 at the age of 56, but his wife and children settled into their new lives and over time became valued members of the local community.

Trenton, New Jersey, USA

On arriving in the States, Fred and his younger brother Albert, or 'Al' as he became best known, had been enrolled in the Centennial School where they soon got involved in sports and stood out as skilled footballers, a game their father had taught them. Fred especially proved to be an all-round sportsman, also taking up baseball, competitive running and later becoming a fine billiards player and a good bowler. His successes, though were at first eclipsed by his older brother, Arthur, who back in Britain had been such a skilled footballer that in the early to mid 1880s he played for Stoke F.C.'s junior team, Stoke Swifts. Arthur seems to have stayed behind for a year after the rest of the family emigrated, perhaps to help the Swifts in their attempt to win the junior league cup. Once this was over though, in 1887, he too took a ship to the States, but not before being presented with a handsome medallion by his team mates and the club. Once in the States, Arthur's success had continued, and it was not long before he was picked as a member of the All-America soccer team.

While his brother's career blossomed, Fred left school and found work as a sanitary-ware presser at one of Trenton's pot banks, a job he would do for the better part of three decades. He continued to pursue his love of sport in his spare time through the local YMCA, which acted as a youth club for boys and young men of religious families like the Coopers. Here he found a kindred spirit in another keen footballer named Al Bratton, with whom he seems to have formed a winning partnership, not only on the football pitch, but also when the two of them decided to try their hand at the new game of basketball that was sweeping through the YMCA branches. Only a few years had passed since Canadian-born training instructor James Naismith had dreamt up the indoor game to placate a group of YMCA trainees at the School for Christian Workers, Springfield, Massachusetts, who had been chafing at their inactivity during the long winter months. Though rough-hewn at first, with early games resembling pitched battles between oversized teams, basketball proved an immediate hit and when Naismith published an article on the game it was quickly taken up by YMCA branches along America's east coast. Soon, matches were drawing sizeable crowds and more and more teams sprang up, one of which was Trenton YMCA.

Fred Cooper and Al Bratton first joined the Trenton YMCA basketball team for the 1893-94 season and had an immediate and lasting impact on how the game was played. In those early days, basketball was a game of individual dribblers working their way through the opposition before attempting a shot at the basket, a method that favoured heavy-set players who could push their way through the field. According to one of basketball's early chroniclers, Cooper and Bratton changed this, creating a more fluid game by drawing on their footballing skills to develop a system of short, swift passes between them on the run, a style of play that completely unbalanced opposing teams.

'The Trenton system of passing was definite. It meant to carry the ball to the opponent's basket in order that a goal might be scored, and time and again I have seen Cooper and Bratton in those early days, pass the ball back and forth between them – no one else touching it – and score against all the efforts of the entire opposing team. I have seen them do this trick away from home and witnessed the spectators rise en masse and cheer the brilliant exhibition in spite of the fact that it was being done by invading players.'

For the next three seasons, the Trenton YMCA dominated the game in New Jersey and eastern Pennsylvania by which time Fred was the team captain and unofficial coach. Despite his refinements to the game, rough play characterised basketball in those free-wheeling and largely unregulated years, with physical injuries being an all too common feature of play, both on and off the court. Not only was there brawling between players, but partisan crowds took whatever opportunities came their way to try and injure or discomfort the rival team and as a result fighting between players and spectators was not unusual. Though the YMCA had quickly lauded Naismith's new game for promoting a useful spirit of 'muscular Christianity' - a healthy body breeding a healthy mind - the rough-housing and unsportsmanlike behaviour drew the Association's displeasure and increasingly basketball teams deserted the YMCA gyms, or were ousted by outraged officials and had to find other venues to play in.

Warren Street, Trenton, with the Masonic Temple nearest the camera.

Such seems to have been the case at the Trenton YMCA. Unspecified 'trouble in the gymnasium', followed by a string of disagreements between the branch secretary and the YMCA team saw the basketball players shifting their base to the Masonic Temple, a large building in downtown Trenton. Here the team made use of the large reception room on the top floor, where a 12 feet high mesh fence with gates at either end was built enclosing the court. This 'cage' was a new innovation, built to stop the ball going out of play so readily and prevent some of the troubles caused by resultant clashes with spectators. The Trenton team were the first to employ this device and though its use eventually fell out of favour, its early employment coined the term 'cager' as a snappy way to refer to a basketball player, a term that is apparently still in use today.

It was in this cage that Fred Cooper and his team mates made history by playing what is presumed to be the first professional basketball game on 7 November 1896, against Brooklyn YMCA. The game had been advertised in a local paper three days earlier (another first) and provisions were made for a sizeable crowd, raised seating being built around the court. Seats were priced at 25c, standing room cost 15c. Nor would the organisers be disappointed by the turn out, 'a large and fashionable audience' of 700 turning up to watch.

The Trenton team came out smartly dressed in red sleeveless tops, black knickerbockers and stockings and white ankle shoes. There were seven in each team, two forwards, a centre, two side centres and two defenders. This was before the days of the tall men in basketball, all of them being average sized, Fred himself was only 5 feet, 7 inches tall. In accordance with the practice of the time, the home team supplied the referee and the visitors chose the umpire.

The game started with seven minutes of 'fierce playing' before Newt Bugbee, one of Trenton's side centres scored the first goal. Fred did not disappoint either, leading the scoring by gaining six points for three baskets, while a player named Simonson scored Brooklyn's only point with a free throw three minutes before the game finished. Trenton's team played the full 40 minutes, while Brooklyn had one substitution. The final score was a 16-1 victory for Trenton.

Following the game, Trenton's manager hosted a supper for both teams at the Alhambra Restaurant, where the Trenton players received their historic payment. There has been some disputing the amount actually paid to the players after the various expenses were deducted, but the accepted version of events was that quoted in Fred's obituary in 1955. 'All the players collected $15  each, but Fred Cooper was the captain and manager (sic) and was paid off first. Thus he became the first professional basketball player in the world. He was proud of this distinction all his life.'

Many versions of the story add that Fred as the captain was also paid a dollar more than his compatriots, which if true also made him the game's first highest paid player. Also, the 'professional' status is perhaps somewhat fuzzy as he still worked as a potter; semi-professional, might be more accurate. That argument aside, it started a trend that would lead to the fully professional game seen today

As they had with the new swift style of play and Trenton's 'cage', other teams quickly followed Trenton down the professional route. This in turn led to the formation in 1898 of the first professional league, the National Basketball League, which Trenton under Fred Cooper's captaincy promptly dominated, winning the first two NBL titles. By this time the team had been joined by Fred's younger brother, Albert. Tall and handsome and as skilled as his brother, Al Cooper proved to be an accomplished goal scorer and easily the best player in the new league.

Despite their successes, during the first few NBL seasons, Fred was growing disillusioned with the Trenton team. His brother Al and Harry Stout, Trenton's top scorer did not get along, while the team's co-owners had also had a falling out. Keen for a fresh start, at the beginning of the 1900-1901 season, he quit the Trenton squad to coach a new team in nearby Burlington. The result, though, was embarrassing. Though Fred was an excellent coach, his new team lacked Trenton's pool of of talented players, the result being that Burlington lost its first eight games before Fred gave up. He was immediately snapped up to coach the Bristol team, before going on to coach at Princeton University between 1904-1906. It was not until 1910 that Fred returned to coach the struggling Trenton Eastern Basketball League team and did so successfully, winning the EBL title the following year. He was replaced as the coach the next year, but returned to coach Trenton one more time ten years later. His last stint as a team coach was at Rider College in the 1920s.

Fred and Catherine and their eldest children
Thomas and Mabel.
Photo courtesy of Susan Corrigan.

Alongside his sporting career, Fred enjoyed a happy family and social life. In 1901, he had married Catherine Carr and the couple had three children. Like his siblings he was an active member of the Trenton community, becoming in time a church elder, and a member of various local and national patriotic orders and Masonic lodges. As noted earlier he had worked for many years as a sanitary-ware presser at the Enterprise Pottery, which generously allowed him time off for his coaching duties, but he quit his job in 1922, when on the strength of his sporting career, he was offered a position as a director of local sports grounds, a posting that eventually led to him becoming head of the city recreation department.

Fred Cooper died in January 1955 at the age of 80, being buried in Greenwood Cemetery, Trenton. The local paper gave him a fulsome obituary, while the National Basketball Association,  heir to the early leagues that Fred and others had helped to forge, did not forget its pioneering sportsman. In February 1955, the NBA presented the city of Trenton with a bronze plaque in honour of Fred and his groundbreaking professional match, which was placed on the site of Trenton's old Masonic Temple.

The memorial plaque to the first
professional match.
Photo courtesy of Grace Cooper

Reference: Robert W. Peterson, Cages to Jump Shots: Pro Basketball's Early Years (New York, 1990) pp. 32-37.  Obituary, Trenton Evening Times, 7 January 1955. 

Family information courtesy of Grace Cooper and Susan Corrigan.

Website: Pro Basketball Encyclopedia.

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

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)