The Battle of Burslem

Thomas Cooper, the Chartist whose
fiery speeches sparked the riots.

In 1842, a prolonged miner's strike had crippled the Staffordshire Potteries. Hundreds of men were on the streets begging and intimidating passers by, while surly mobs raided police stations to free those who had been arrested. The situation in the Potteries was likened to that of a powder keg ready to explode and all that was needed was a spark to kindle all into combustion. Enter Thomas Cooper (see here) lay preacher and Chartist firebrand, whose powerful speeches finally struck that spark and plunged the Potteries into two days of rioting and mob rule. During this period dozens of buildings were looted and destroyed and order was only restored after a clash between rioters and the army, an incident popularly known as the Battle of Burslem.

The confrontation took place on 16th August 1842. After a day and night of rioting and looting, early in the morning of the 16th crowds began to gather once more on streets of the Potteries. Of the five towns which had suffered in the previous day's rioting, Hanley had been hit the worst. Plumes of heavy fire smoke curled up from either end of the town and the streets were filled with debris. The parsonage was a smouldering ruin and at the top of Pall Mall, Albion House home of local magistrate William Parker had been reduced to a charred and broken shell. On the streets of the town by 7 o'clock a crowd of 400 to 500 people had gathered and were being addressed by two of the local Chartist leaders, young William Ellis and John Richards, the elder statesman of Potteries Chartism. Ellis was urging the crowd not to give up the struggle until the People's Charter became the law of the land. According to witnesses, though, it was the normally mild-mannered Richards who was more to the point. "Now my lads," he said, "we have got the parson's house down, we must have the churches down, for if we lose this day, we lose the day forever." Ellis then spoke again and urged the crowd to go to Burslem to join the crowd there. They were expecting to meet up with a large crowd who were coming to the Potteries from Leek and extend the rioting even further. By 9 o'clock, with shouts of "Now lads for Burslem" and "Now to business", the Hanley mob began marching north.

From Hanley to Burslem is a steady half hour walk for a healthy man and as they entered the town at about 9.30am, the crowd were singing a song that Thomas Cooper had taught them, "... the lion of freedom's let loose from his den, and we'll rally round him again and again." On their arrival in the town a part of the mob barged into George Inn which had only ten days earlier been attacked by outraged strikers and suffered substantial damage. To try and avoid further trouble, the owner of the Inn, Mr Barlow tried to buy the rioters off by giving them a shilling each; some of this was in half crowns and a dispute arose at the door as to the division of it. By this time the greater part of the mob had arrived and they immediately rushed in and filled the house. Mr Barlow had taken the precaution to remove the bulk of his cash; there was however £14 in coppers wrapped up in parcels of five shillings, which were all taken. Numerous bottles of wine, whisky and rum was also stolen, and the taps attached to the beer kegs were left running. Prominent amongst those who conducted this raid was George 'Cogsey Nelly' Colclough, a local lout who had flitted from one town to another the previous day, joining in with the burning and looting wherever he went. Like a moth to the flame he had followed the trouble back to his native Hanley and now thought to export his brand of local thuggery to the Mother Town. But the invasion of the inn did not go unopposed, for while the mob had previously only faced outnumbered police constables, they now found that they were in a town containing a small but formidable force of regular soldiers. They were surprised by a sergeant of dragoons and one or two other soldiers who were billeted at the inn, who hearing the noise, rushed into the bar and lobby to confront the troublemakers. Being in their undress uniforms they only had their swords to hand, but undaunted, the sergeant immediately drew his sword and began to cutting and swatting at the looters and in a few minutes the house was cleared. On being forced back into the street, the mob vented their anger by throwing stones at the windows, and in a very short time all the newly fitted glass was smashed and the house soon presented the same dilapidated appearance as it did after the attack in the night of the 6th.

The Leopard Inn, Burslem.

At the Leopard Inn, meantime, local magistrate Captain Thomas Powys was with Brevet-Major Power Le Poer Trench the commander of the 50 or so 2nd Dragoon Guards, who had been stationed in Burslem the week before. The two men had met shortly after the news had come in of a large crowd coming from Leek and Powys was doubtless consulting with the military as to what should be done if they tried to join the rioters. It was at this point that Thomas Lees the landlord of the inn came over with news that trouble that had broken out in Chapel Square. Captain Powys immediately asked for the Major's assistance and Trench quickly ordered his available men to horse. Most of the men were billeted at the inn, their horses being stabled outside and the troopers now came out into the cobbled courtyard and hurriedly got themselves and their animals ready for action. A flurry of stones came flying over the gate striking at least one soldier on the helmet, but unfazed they were soon clattering out of the courtyard and through the streets. Mounted on their big bay horses, the soldiers dressed in scarlet tunics, dark blue trousers with a yellow stripe down the side and tall, crested brass helmets on their heads, they were a sight to see and doubtless provided the townsfolk with a gallant if alarming show as they rode towards the Market Place.

The mood in the town had grown increasingly ugly with the arrival of the soldiers and Captain Powys knew that the crowd of people from Leek were even now on the outskirts of the town. If the two mobs joined up and went unopposed Burslem might well be utterly wrecked, so Powys decided that it was now time to restore law and order before things got completely out of hand.

An officer of the 2nd Dragoon Guards
in 1842. The helmet would have lacked
the black plume while on active duty.

Riding up to the top of St John's Square with Trench's dragoons posted on either side and 200 special constables behind them, Captain Powys faced the mob and began to read out the Riot Act in a loud voice. He then gave several other warnings and then read the Riot Act again, urging the crowd to disperse and go home peacefully. The crowd, however, were unmoved and milled about between the market or the Shambles, as it was called, and the Big House, Thomas Wedgwood's former home that still stands at the junction of Moorland Road and Waterloo Road, though at that time there was a walled garden before it. Powys then called out, "Clear the streets!" Then shouted, "Charge!" and led the dragoons towards the crowd. He had hoped to scare them off and the horse soldiers beat with the flats of their swords any who were slow in getting out of their way. The ruse did not work, though, for as one portion of the crowd fell back others spilled out of the side streets and alleys, back into the main crowd. Seeing the opportunity to cause more trouble, George Colclough set about the nearest soldiers with his stick, beating at their sword arms as they attempted to swat him. After a time several of the cavalrymen were so bruised by Colclough's attacks that they left him alone, which is said to have raised a cheer from some in the crowd.

By now it was getting towards noon and despite the best efforts of Captain Powys and the soldiers, the streets were still full of people. Some had climbed onto the roof of the Town Hall and the covered market, from where they threw stones at the troops and special constables. Powys, increasingly alarmed that the situation might escalate to the point where he might have to use the soldiers more forcefully, was repeatedly seen riding up to the crowds and calling out that the Riot Act had been read and urging people to return to their homes. He was joined in his efforts by others including an Irish naval officer, 41 year old Captain William Bunbury McClintock, who had come to town to meet his friend Major Trench, only to find himself in the eye of a storm. McClintock now rode back and forth from where the bulk of the troops were gathered by the Leopard Inn to check on what the crowds were doing. He saw 'a vast concourse of people in the Hanley Road, and a dense mob on the Smallthorne Road - the latter were accompanied by a band of music. I returned again to the troop, and told Captain Powys there would soon be bloody work.'

Word quickly spread, to the delight of the rioters in the town that the Leek mob of between 4,000 to 5,000 people was advancing down Smallthorne Road and they began moving up Chapel Square to meet them. As McClintock had noted, at the head of the crowd marched a band playing 'See the Conquering Hero Comes' preceded by a large number of men and boys shouting and waving makeshift weapons overhead, all of which could be clearly seen from Market Square. Captain Powys described it as 'the most tumultuous and violent mob which I have ever seen assembled, having seen many riots in the country and in London." He guessed that a clash was now inevitable and barely three minutes after McClintock had ridden back to the troop, Powys ordered Major Trench to move the troop forward to meet the crowd and he formed his dragoons up in sections diagonally across the road from the Big House to the Post office, so cutting the newcomers off from the bulk of the Potteries' mob in the Market Square. The special constables, meantime, closed up nervously behind the cavalry, among them local manufacturer Joseph Edge and his friend Samuel Cork. They looked so alarmed at this point that a kindly lady watching the action from a nearby house sent her servant over with a glass of wine for them both, hoping that the drinks would revive their spirits.

They needed it, for by now the fresh crowd was closing on the thin line of soldiers. Captain Powys on horseback was on the left of Major Trench, who with the other officers were in advance of the dragoons. A large crowd was assembled in the area above the Wesleyan chapel, to witness the arrival of the Leek mob. When about eighty or a hundred yards from the spot where the dragoons were stationed, the Leek party began to cheer and those in front waved their bludgeons. As the head of the procession entered the open space, the front ranks turned to the left, with the apparent intention of making their way by the Wesleyan chapel. About twenty or thirty deep of them had got so far when as Captain Powys later recalled, 'Immediately large volleys of stones, and brick ends were thrown by this mob at myself, and also at the military, I being then in the advance. Similar stones were thrown at the same time by the mob coming in the direction from Hanley at the military, myself and also at the special constables.'

By now the situation was intolerable. Stones were being hurled from both sides of the Market Square, striking horses and men alike and rattling over the cobbles. Captain Powys had thus far been the model of restraint, giving the crowd ample opportunities for a peaceful withdrawal, but it was now obvious that they were bent on trouble. Fearing for the safety of the soldiers, special constables and himself, by his own account he felt he had no choice but to use the soldiers to full effect and turning to Major Trench, Powys asked him to get his men ready to open fire. Trench agreed that the situation was getting out of control and gave the appropriate orders. As the soldiers sheathed their swords and primed their carbines, the large crowd moved forward as far as the Big House. The dragoons advanced slightly to counter them and only at the last moment when the front of the crowd was only six or seven yards away from the soldiers did it seem that the rioters saw the line of guns being raised and levelled at them. 'This movement on the part of the soldiers caused a strange movement amongst those in the front of the mob, and a look of terror came over their faces. Another moment and the order "fire" was given' and the rattle of musketry echoed out loud over the town.'

The Big House, Burslem, where troops and rioters clashed.

The soldiers fired directly into the crowd, not over their heads as some reported, and many bullets found a mark. Standing in front of the large brick wall that then stood in front of the Big House, was a 19 year old shoemaker from Leek named Josiah Heapy. Despite glowing reports from his employer, who later extolled his gentle character and claimed he had been forced to join the crowd, Heapy appears to have been actively engaged in throwing stones at the soldiers, at least, that is, until a musket ball struck him in the temple and blew his brains out against the gate post.

As Heapy's lifeless form slumped to the pavement, in another section of the crowd, a bricklayer named William Garrett got a ball through his back that exited through his neck and he too fell to the ground gravely wounded but he was eventually whisked off to the infirmary. According to reports others were hit, but in the confusion no one stopped to count the casualties, though it has been supposed that some of the wounded were carried off by their friends and died later. A report in the Bolton Chronicle later claimed that the true tally had been three people killed and six wounded, while reports from Leek spoke of numerous wounded being brought back into the town after the riots.

Some in the crowd seem to have been expecting this development, for shortly after the soldiers had fired their volley someone released a number of carrier pigeons which set off in the direction of Manchester. One of these birds was later captured and found to be carrying a note reporting that the mob had been fired on by dragoons and calling for 50,000 workers to join them in the Potteries. Some witnesses also recalled seeing plumes of gun smoke coming from the crowd just before the soldiers fired, though if this was the case, none of the soldiers or special constables were injured.

Most of the mob, though, was just shocked by the gunfire. From his position behind the dragoons, special constable Joseph Edge had watched all this in fascinated horror, as his son later noted: 'such a scene presented itself which we may pray may never be repeated in this good old town. So panic stricken was the mob that the men simply lay down in heaps in their efforts to get away from the cavalry... '

The 2nd Dragoon Guards open fire on the crowd from Leek.

Having stunned the rioters, the soldiers kept moving forwards and slinging their carbines, they drew their swords and followed by the special constables they charged their horses into the head of the crowd which scattered in panic before them. Immediately, thousands of people began rushing in all directions, many falling over each other in tangled heaps, others leaping through open windows, or into any available hiding place. Apocryphal tales abound. One Joseph Pickford of Leek is said to have taken shelter in a pig sty, much to the annoyance of its porcine occupants, whose squeals threatened to reveal his hiding place. Hundreds more escaped into the adjoining fields. Another story recalled how Thomas Goldstraw, a powerfully built man from Leek and a noted drummer, dropped his drum when the soldiers charged and quickly fled from Burslem back the way he had come, unaware at first that his son who had been nearby at the time had been shot through the thigh and was lying wounded in a field just outside the town. According to the storyteller, Goldstraw junior was later placed on a cart and transported to the surgery of an obliging physician, Dr Wright at Norton-in-the-Moors, who soon had him back on his feet again.

As the military swept past into the Moorland Road, a portion of the mob from the direction of Hanley, rallied and began throwing stones at the body of special constables, who advanced to the conflict in a dense mass, playing away with their truncheons, and completely routed the mob in that quarter. After the soldiers had charged a short distance up the Smallthorne Road, they were halted and recalled: their job was done as the mob, which just before had consisted of five or six thousand people was completely dispersed and the danger to Burslem had passed.

Reference: Staffordshire Mercury, 20 August 1842; Staffordshire Advertiser, 20 August 1842, p.3;  John Wilcox Edge ‘Burslem fifty years ago’, quoted in Carmel Dennison’s Burslem:People and Buildings, Buildings and People, (Stoke-on-Trent, 1996), pp. 36-37; Leek: Fifty Years Ago, (Leek, 1887), p.107 and 121.

Reg Mitchell Takes the Proverbial

Colin Melbourne's statue of R. J. Mitchell
outside the Potteries Museum and Art Gallery,
Hanley.

In 1911, long before he went on to design his world-beating racing planes and later the Supermarine Spitfire, 16 year old Reginald Joseph Mitchell, served a local apprenticeship. Originally from Butt Lane near Kidsgrove, but raised in Normacot, Reg was enrolled as a lowly apprentice engineer at Messrs Kerr, Stuart and Co, locomotive engineers in Fenton. Before moving on to the drawing office where he would make his name, he like the other apprentices had to spend time in the workshops getting his hands dirty working on the firm's machines. Reg's pragmatic father Herbert saw this as a sensible grounding for his ambitious son, but young Mitchell loathed this introduction to his profession, hating the grime-caked overalls he had to wear and the monotony of the work that kept him from what he really wanted to do. He was also less than enamoured with the workshop foreman.

One of the first jobs that Reg had when he started at Kerr, Stuart was the traditional one of tea boy, brewing up for the other apprentices and the foreman, the latter, though regularly complained that Mitchell's tea tasted like piss. Tired of his grumbling, Reg decided that if that was what he thought, then that was what he would get. The next morning Reg arrived at work and as normal took the kettle to the wash room, but instead of filling it with water he urinated into it, then boiled the kettle and made tea. Warning his fellow apprentices not to drink, Reg served the foreman as usual. The man took a sip, then a larger gulp and said, “Bloody good cup of tea, Mitchell, why can't you make it like this every day?” 

Reference: Gordon Mitchell, R.J. Mitchell, from Schooldays to Spitfire, pp. 21- 25

A Disposition to Riot

Between 1799 and 1801 food riots, brought on by scarcity and high prices which in turn had been caused by poor harvests and the effects of Napoleon’s continental blockade, regularly broke out throughout England. With imports being limited, grain was at a premium which increased the price of bread, the cost of a loaf jumping to an all time high of 1s.9d, while other foods such as butter and cheese saw similar hefty hikes in price, a situation not helped by greedy profiteers inflating prices further still. As many of the poor working classes lived off a diet in which bread and other basics played a major part, any serious increase in their prices was bound to cause problems and spark often violent protests. London, Birmingham, Oxford, Nottingham, Coventry, Norwich, Stamford, Portsmouth, Sheffield and Worcester, amongst other places all saw bouts of rioting at this time and the Potteries too suffered several outbreaks.

A satirical cartoon depicting a fat 'forestaller' being dragged along by a rope round his neck by a
 chain of countrymen, to the cheers of a crowd. Illustration by Isaac Cruikshank

On Monday 28 April 1800, a serious food riot broke out after a mob assembled at Lane End and seized a quantity of potatoes, flour and other goods, which they quickly shared out among themselves. The rioting became so serious and alarming that the local Volunteers were called out and the Riot Act was read, though to little effect. So the authorities had to get tough and the Volunteers were sent to capture the ringleaders and after a scuffle seven people were dragged off to Stafford gaol guarded by a party of the Newcastle and Pottery troop of Cavalry. They were William Hatton, William Doukin (or Dowkin), William Myatt, Solomon Harding, Emma Vernon, Ann Goodwin and Sarah Hobson, all of whom were subsequently sent for trial at the Stafford Assize in August. Most were acquitted, but 29 year old Emma Vernon also known as Emma Berks or Amy Burke, who was identified as the chief troublemaker, was found guilty of riotous assembly 'with other persons above the number twelve, and continuing together for one hour after Proclaimation'. 

At the time rioting was a capital offence and Emma was initially sentenced to be hanged on 30 August at Stafford, but on 13 August her sentence was commuted to one of transportation for 21 years to Australia. In June 1801, Emma Berks (alias Emma Vernon, Amy Burke) was one of 297 prisoners transported aboard the curiously named ship Nile, Canada and Minorca, which arrived in New South Wales on 14 December 1801. She would never return, dying in Australia on 1 July 1818, aged 47.

The April riot, though, was not the last to plague the area and in late September more trouble broke out. The Staffordshire Advertiser, whilst praising the exemplary fortitude of the locals during the ongoing food crisis, was dismayed to report 'that since Monday last [22 September] a disposition to riot has manifested itself in various parts of the Potteries.' Miners and potters were reported to have assembled in large groups and going to local food shops had seized provisions and sold them on at what they considered fairer prices. A troop of the 17th Light Dragoons quartered at Lane End, the Trentham, Pottery and Stone Troops of Yeomanry Cavalry, plus the Newcastle and Pottery Volunteers had been repeatedly called out to deal with these infractions and thus far had managed to keep a lid on the situation, curbing any dangerous acts by the mobs. Indeed, the only overtly violent act that the Advertiser could report was that one boy had been seized for hurling stones and was taken into custody. More pleasingly it was noted that some the inhabitants of Hanley and Shelton in an effort to stamp out the blatant profiteering at the root of the troubles, had made a collective resolution not to buy butter from anyone selling at more than 1 shilling per lb and various communities around the Potteries were following suit. Prior to this butter had been shamefully priced at 16d or 17d per lb. The Marquis of Stafford also stepped in and ordered his tenants to thresh their wheat and take it to market, which many did, selling it at the reasonable price of 12s per strike [i.e. 2 bushels]. The paper lauded such actions and hoped that it would promote further reductions in prices. Certainly it quelled the growing unrest in the area and by the the next edition of the paper the Potteries had returned to 'a state of perfect tranquillity', with 'the pleasing prospect of the necessaries of life being much reduced in price.'

(Staffordshire Advertiser, 3 May 1800, p.4; 23 August 1800, p.4; 30 August 1800, p.4; 27 September 1800, p.4; 4 October 1800, p.4)

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

Up, Up and Away

Balloonist Charles Green later in life.

Charles Green was quite a celebrity when he arrived in the Potteries in early October 1826. A pioneer balloonist, five years earlier, Green had become famous almost overnight when he made a special ascent into the air in his coal gas filled balloon at George IV's coronation. Since then he had become a professional balloonist, touring the country giving displays and allowing a lucky few to take a ride up with him. Now that thrill was open to the people in North Staffordshire and to one lucky passenger would fall the chance to make local history by joining Green in the first ever flight over the district.

The first ascent was to take place from Shelton late in the afternoon of Tuesday, 3rd October 1826. 'A vast concourse of persons' had assembled according to a reporter for the Staffordshire Advertiser. A carnival atmosphere prevailed, a band had been arranged to keep the onlookers entertained and enclosures had been set up for paying guests. The most exclusive of these for 'the most respectable inhabitants' was rather thinly populated at first, but started to fill up after 3 p.m., allaying fears that Green would not be fully compensated for his visit to the area. Another cheaper enclosure was also pretty well filled. Most of the locals, though, opted for a free view, an immense number of whom were camped out in surrounding fields, streets and yards, perched on roofs or leaning out of windows.

The weather was cloudy but favourable despite a brief shower which dampened those waiting for the launch. Half an hour or so before the main event a small pilot balloon was released to check on the wind direction, Green then got to work preparing the large crimson and gold striped main balloon for its trip over the Potteries. There was at this point some anxiety as to who, if anyone, would accompany Green on his historic flight. Some days earlier a suitable companion had been selected, but who this was is a mystery as the man backed out shortly before the launch and it seemed very likely that Green may have to go up alone. Indeed, the celebrated balloonist had clambered into the basket or 'car' as it was then called and was making his final adjustments prior to lift off, when the band suddenly struck up the popular Irish melody 'Fly not yet' to get his attention. A last-minute replacement had been found, the Reverend Benjamin Vale, perpetual curate of Stoke-upon-Trent had volunteered to go.

Vale was not a local having been born in London in 1787 and despite his religious credentials he seems to have been a rather prickly and erratic character, who was prone to rubbing people up the wrong way. Years earlier he had gone to Australia in hopes of setting up a ministry, but had left under a cloud when in a fit of misplaced patriotism he had illegally seized an American ship in Sydney Harbour, much to the annoyance of the local governor who had cleared the ship and who promptly sent Vale packing back to Britain. The rebuked clergyman had then served in his native London for a time before securing his position in Stoke. Years later he would become the Rector of St James Church, Longton, but his flock never seemed to have warmed to him and in 1842 his home fell prey to an angry mob during the Pottery Riots. Yet, whatever his other faults, Vale does not seem to have lacked in physical courage and after briefly justifying his decision with his anxious friends, to the applause of the onlookers he eagerly stepped forward to join Mr Green for this first historic trip.

Vale's friends crowded around the car when the clergyman had taken his seat and expressed their wishes for a safe journey. The balloon was allowed to rise into the air to a considerable height above the gathered crowd, ropes still holding it secure while it did so. Here, Mr Green released some ballast and dropped a parachute over the side attached to a basket that carried a cat, which floated safely back down to earth. After a short while suspended thus probably to give the crowd a good view of the 'buoyant and splendid machine', it was drawn back down to earth, two flags were handed over which were fixed at either end of the car, the ropes were released and with the band playing and crowd applauding the balloon rose gracefully into the air. To those on the ground the balloon remained in sight for about twenty minutes before vanishing into a cloud for ten minutes, then reappearing briefly in the distance as a dark-coloured ball. The rest of the journey was instead charted by Reverend Vale who subsequently wrote an account of the historic flight, which was printed in the Staffordshire Advertiser several days later. Shorn of its evangelical asides, it makes for an interesting first aerial view of the Potteries.

'At four o'clock the flags were presented to us, and we left the earth; the wind blowing rather to the north and east, and the barometer standing at 29.4. I continued to answer the salutations from below as long as I could distinguish particular objects, and afterwards occupied myself in general observations with Mr. Green without feeling a particular sensation of any kind. By degrees, the objects on earth became so small, that the most extensive manufactories appeared like so many mole hills,and the people appeared like so many black and white specks. I could not but think how truly ridiculous it was for men of immortal minds to weary themselves unnecessarily, and strive with each other for the possession of such mud-heaps as the establishments on earth now appeared to be; and I looked about with great anxiety to observe that humble church preferment which I was so anxious to obtain, and which many were so anxious to confer on me. I looked, however, in vain – it had already mingled in the obscurity of distance, and nothing remained but a huge dark sod, with a mud-heap where Hanley stood, and another where Lane-End might be supposed to stand.

One of Charles Green's balloons in 1836

At five minutes past four, the barometer standing at 26.2, we entered a very thick cloud of a yellowish white colour; we were then little more than half a mile high, i.e. 58; the cloud had a  peculiarity of taste which I am not now able to describe, and the feel of it was somewhat soapy. Having now lost sight of the earth, we adjusted the ballast, put out the grappling iron, and properly fastened it; Mr. Green then untied the mouth of the balloon, and I looked up into it, which from the pureness of the gas appeared to be empty. Mr. Green left the mouth of the balloon open, that as the gas might expand, it might find itself a passage downward through the mouth. When Mr. Green observed the balloon to become fully distended, he opened the valve and let out some of the gas; and as this led to me making some remarks about the valve, he permitted me at proper times to open the valve myself. The first time I opened the valve I think I did it with some hesitation, but opportunities multiplied and I went about it at last as if it had been my business.

At ten minutes past four, we were as near over Blithe Marsh Bridge, beyond Lane End, and then gliding into another current of air, we drifted towards Cellar Head. We now had a good view of the clouds beneath us, layer on layer, the last layer appearing to rest in sullen silence upon the earth, while all the rest appeared to move, each layer seeming to be directed by a peculiar current of air.

At fifteen minutes past four, we approached Werrington windmill, which we saw directly, and at the same time we heard the halloo and greetings of persons who were too much diminished by distance to be observed by us. The barometer then stood at 24.2, and our distance was nearly a mile, i.e. 98.

At twenty minutes past four, we passed over Consol Woods, and heard several guns fired, and had a good view of the bleak and hilly country over which we were about to pass.

At thirty minutes past four, we threw out ballast to check the descent of the balloon, which Mr. Green considered too rapid. We now held out the flags, and it was evident that we were going downwards, as the flags were blown upwards. I looked earnestly towards the earth to discover the first appearances again. What appeared narrow straight lines hardly distinguishable, turned out the be the King's highways; what appeared to be a mushroom, turned out to be a hay-stack; and what appeared to be a solitary bush, turned out to be a plantation or a wood. We again heard voices, and a curious humming sound, which Mr. Green explained as being produced by a shower of very small rain falling on the balloon; a sound which in his earlier experience, had very much alarmed him. We then crossed Churnet River, and the Canal in the neighbourhood of Belmont House, and saw the reflection of the balloon in the water. The rain had now condensed the gas, and the lower part of the balloon collapsed.

At thirty-five minutes past four, we found ourselves descending over a woody district, and threw out ballast in order to pass over it. As we ascended, we got into another current of air, which drove us rather southerly, between Ipstones and Kingsley. Here it was somewhat cold. A voice was now heard distinctly crying out “Come down, come down.” Mr. Green answered “Not yet.” and I vociferated “Silence.”  and I have since learned that a good hostess understanding Mr. Green to say “yes, yes,” and supposing me to say “mistress,” little thinking that she did not appear to us bigger than a pin's head, went in and fetched out some brandy to regale us. The barometer now stood at 23.1 and our distance was about a mile i.e. 1.2.

At forty minutes past four, the barometer stood at 20.1, so that our elevation then, (which was our highest elevation) was a little above two miles, i.e. 2,047. Mr. Green thought it proper here to tie the mouth of the balloon to keep out the atmospheric air; and he mounted on the very edge of the car to accomplish it; as it was not possible for him even so to reach it, I hung upon a cord my whole weight to bring the mouth of the balloon low enough, and in this manner it was effected. I now heard the sound of a horn, and Mr. Green heard the sound of carriage wheels, so that we concluded some public coach was passing, and we stooped a little from our elevation to examine the ground for a descent.

At fifty minutes past four, a heavy storm came on, and we were obliged to hasten our descent. Nothing but stone walls appeared to greet us in this moorland country, and we both prepared for the worst that could happen to us. Having come down low enough for the grapple to touch the earth, we called to the first object we saw to come and render us assistance. Two men that appeared were unable to overtake us. The grapple caught on a wall and dragged an immense part of it to the ground. Again we swept the distance of a long field, and again the grapple caught on another wall which it served as it did the first. In this manner our velocity was checked, and other persons coming up, we made a safe landing, after having been in the air, as near as possible, an hour, and having passed over at least 25 miles.'         


Reference: Staffordshire Advertiser 7 October 1826, p.4 ; J H Y Briggs, ' A Staffordshire Clergyman: The Reverend Dr Benjamin Vale,  L.L.D. (1787-1863)' in Staffordshire Studies (Keele, 1987) pp. 141-153.                                

Ken Ray's Soldiers: Private William Walker

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 William Walker, 1st Battalion 4th Foot (King's Own), 

Napoleonic Wars 

There were several men from the Potteries that we know of who served in Wellington's army in Portugal and Spain during the Peninsula War (1808-1814), but few had quite so impressive a record as Private William Walker of the 4th King's Own Regiment of Foot who saw action in virtually every major land battle fought by the British Army during the Napoleonic Wars. Most likely the son of John Walker and Elizabeth, nee Lawns, he was born in Burslem and baptised at Stoke-upon-Trent on 8th October 1775. William seems to have received little or no education and initially found work locally as a potter. How or why left the Potteries and suddenly arrived at Ashford in Kent is unknown, but it was there on 19th June 1799 that he enlisted for 'unlimited service' with the 1st Battalion 4th Foot, with which he would serve for the next two decades.

The uniform of the 4th Kings Own Regiment from 1799 to
1809, after which the breeches and stockings were replaced
with grey trousers.

From his own records at his discharge it is clear that Walker saw service almost immediately in an expedition to North Holland in 1799, under the Duke of York – the indecisive 'Grand Old Duke of York' of nursery rhyme fame. There his regiment took part in the fighting at Castricum on 6th October, a defeat where they suffered heavy casualties. Walker was one of these, receiving a gunshot wound in the left leg, but he survived, was evacuated back to Britain and spent the next few years on home service. In 1804, Walker's battalion served under a much better commander, the visionary General Sir John Moore at Shorncliffe, where they underwent a rigorous regime of training. From there in 1805, the 1st battalion went to Hanover and later served at the Battle of Copenhagen in 1807. The battalion was back with Sir John Moore in Sweden in 1808, when he was given command of the force sent to the Iberian peninsula to support Portugal and Spain against the French. However, after some initial successes by the Spanish to oust the French invaders, the arrival of Napoleon at the head of a massive army saw the effective collapse of the Spanish forces before them and Moore and his men, including Private Walker, were forced on a 200 mile retreat to Corunna on the northern Spanish coast. It was an epic, gruelling march through mountains thick with snow and the French in close pursuit, but because of the rigorous training they had received under Moore the 4th suffered less hardship than many units. On reaching the coast, Walker with his fellows fought in the Battle of Corunna on 16th January 1809. Sir John Moore was killed in the fighting, but the battle effectively blunted the French attempts to thwart the evacuation of the British Army.

The next year, though it receives no mention in his records, Walker was probably involved in another near disaster for the British, when the 4th Foot were sent on the Walcheren Expedition in an attempt to capture Antwerp. However, sickness quickly took a hold on the army causing many deaths and the expedition had to be abandoned. The 4th Foot suffered like the other regiments, but was one of the first of the Walcheren units to be sent to join Wellington's forces in the Peninsula, where the 1st Battalion joined the 5th Division at Torres Vedras near Lisbon in Portugal in November 1810. The following year the 4th Foot took part in the Battle of Fuentes de Onoro, but positioned on the far left of Wellington's line they took no active part in the fighting and received no casualties, though Walker was later to carefully add the battle to his list of engagements. Instead his real baptism of fire in this new phase of the Peninsula War would come in 1812.

The final attack on Badajoz, showing British troops assailing the walls with ladders

Having evicted the French from Portugal, two fortresses barred Wellington's safe passage into Spain. The storming of the first of these at Cuidad Rodrigo did not involve the 4th Foot, instead they with many others were sent against Badajoz in the north. A heavily fortified town that had already endured two sieges, Badajoz now underwent a severe bombardment to breach its walls before the troops were sent in. This took place on 6th April 1812 and saw Wellington's men put to their sternest test with four separate attacks made on the heavily defended breaches. The 5th Division of which the 4th Foot were a part, attacked the San Vincente bastion on the north-west corner of the town. Fighting their way through massed musketry, cannon fire, grenades, mines and lines of wooden poles dotted with blades and spikes, the 4th Foot were badly mauled, but managed with others to get over the wall and into the town, where they fell on the French defending the walls from other attacks and soon afterwards the town fell. The ordeal of Badajoz was not over, though, as driven into a frenzy by what they had endured the bulk of the British troops then went on a two-day rampage of looting, rape and murder through the town. Private Walker though, was not among them, as during the assault he had been shot in the neck and at some point nearby French soldiers had bayoneted him in the left arm and left leg and left him for dead. Again, he would live, but like most of the wounded Walker probably had to wait until the looting army had exhausted itself two days later before he got any medical treatment.

It is a testament to William Walker's toughness that by July 1812, he was back in the ranks and fit enough to take part in Wellington's long march and brilliant victory at Salamanca followed by his advance into Madrid. The following year, Walker fought in the battle of Vittoria which sounded the death-knell of the French army in Spain. Walker's record then reads almost like a tally of the clashes that finally pushed Napoleon's soldiers back over their own border – Palencia, San Sebastian, Bidassoa and Nive – all of which he seems to have passed through without any injury worth noting. The last action of the regiment before they swapped one war for another, was to help in the blockade of Bayonne just over the French border. Wellington's army was still there when news reached them of Napoleon's abdication and the war it seemed was over.

Released from the war in Europe, in May 1814, Walker's regiment was sent across the Atlantic to take part in the War of 1812 against the United States of America. He and his comrades were witness to great success at the battle of Bladensburg, where they helped rout the Americans, but disappointment and defeat at Baltimore and again at New Orleans, but a final success in the last clash of the war with the seizure of Fort Bowyer. By this time, though, the belated news that a peace treaty had been signed finally filtered down to the combatants and the British troops withdrew. But though another war had ended, an old one was to briefly flash back into life in dramatic fashion, for in late February 1815, Napoleon escaped from the island of Elba and returned to France. Europe was thrown once more into turmoil and Britain needed its troops for the war that was sure to come.

What followed became known as 'The Hundred Days', Napoleon's last throw of the dice that ended in his final defeat at the battle of Waterloo on 18th June 1815. The 4th Foot served with Wellington's army in Belgium and fought at Waterloo, but it seems that Private William Walker was not with them.  The records of the 4th Kings Own show that the regimental drum major also named William Walker received the Waterloo Medal which was awarded to all those who served in the battle, but there is no evidence that our Private Walker was a medal recipient. Evidence seems to suggest that the William Walker who later claimed four clasps to the Military General Service Medal in 1847-48 for his Peninsula War service was also the aforementioned regimental drum major.

  

After peace was finally declared and the occupation of France ended, the 1st Battalion 4th Foot were posted to the West Indies. Two and a half years later on 7th May 1821, at St Ann's in Barbados, 46 year old Private William Walker was discharged from the army, the reason given that he was worn out from his long years of service and the effects of his wounds. Walker was described as being 6' ¼” tall, light haired, grey eyed and with a fair complexion. His discharge certificate also indicates that for 4 years and five days of his 22 years and 55 days of service with the 4th Foot he had served as a corporal, but does not indicate when this was, nor why he had been reduced back to private. Whatever the case his conduct as a soldier had been 'very good' and the record was careful to note all the battles he had participated in and when he had received his wounds.

Walker returned to Britain on the first available vessel and his discharge was confirmed by the Chelsea commissioners later that year. What he did, where he went and what the ultimate fate of the old Peninsula veteran was after that remains unknown.

Ken Ray's Soldiers: Gunner Aaron Wedgwood

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...

- - - - - - 

Gunner Aaron Wedgwood, H Troop Royal Horse Artillery,

Napoleonic Wars

Though not closely related to any of his most famous namesakes, Aaron Wedgwood was certainly a member of the extended Wedgwood family of Burslem that included the great Josiah Wedgwood amongst its notable members. Born in Burslem in either late February or early March 1789, Aaron was the third child and eldest son of Richard Wedgwood and his wife Ann nee Lowndes. Aaron's father was the son of another Aaron Wedgwood, a potter of some repute, some of whose wares are today held in the British Museum collection. As a scion of a lesser branch of the family, the younger Aaron seems to have received little or no education, though in his teens he was apprenticed as an engraver in the pottery industry. However, on 4th February 1806, just before his 17th birthday, he cast all this aside and enlisted in the Royal Horse Artillery at Newcastle-under-Lyme.

Gunner Wedgwood was enrolled in H Troop Royal Horse Artillery. Armed with lighter cannon and with teams of horses to pull them for rapid deployment into action, the RHA were intended to work in concert with the cavalry, though they often filled in as regular static artillery on the battlefield. Not that Wedgwood saw any early action as H Troop spent the bulk of the Napoleonic Wars on garrison duty in Britain, mostly at Woolwich, Warley or Canterbury. There were two notable breaks from this routine, the first was in 1809 when H Troop took part in the ill-fated Walcheren expedition to the Low Countries, and in 1815 it was one of several troops of the RHA who served in the Waterloo campaign in Belgium. At Waterloo the Troop was placed in support of the soldiers fighting in and around the château complex of Hougoumont on the Allied right. Placed forward on the ridge like other artillery teams, it suffered heavily from enemy fire and the several cavalry and infantry attacks that day. H Troop suffered many dead and wounded, one of the dead being their commander Captain William Norman Ramsay. Command then devolved onto Captain John May.

Following the Allied victory, H Troop was stationed at Amiens, France as a part of the army of occupation, during which time Wedgwood like the other members of the Troop received the Waterloo Medal for his part in the action. In 1817, the Troop moved to Bailleul, where, following a reorganization of the RHA, H Troop became G Troop.

Eventually the Troop returned to Britain and Wedgwood was still with it, but not for much longer. His conduct as a soldier was, it seems, rather patchy and when he was discharged from the army on 30th June 1820, the stated reason was 'irregular conduct', while the section noting his general conduct was left blank. He was sent on his way with 5d a day pension. The discharge papers reveal that Wedgwood was a relatively short man only 5' 5¾” tall, with brown hair, grey eyes and a fair complexion. In total he had served 14 years 182 days in the army.

Though Aaron Wedgwood's discharge papers were signed at Woolwich, there is a pencilled notation on the back sheet that reads '80 miles from Pontefract to Newcastle'. On their discharge soldiers were usually provided with the fare to get them back to the town where they enlisted, though what he was doing travelling from Pontefract is unclear. It may be that he was based there and his discharge was merely confirmed at Woolwich.

Little is known about Aaron Wedgwood after his discharge, though there is some circumstantial evidence to suggest that he did indeed return to the Potteries. He may well have been the man of that name who married one Mary Ann Hudson in Hanley in 1823. There were two other Aaron Wedgwoods married locally a decade later, but these men seem to have survived well into the mid-19th century. That Aaron Wedgwood never applied for the Military General Service Medal perhaps indicates that he died before 1848. One Aaron Wedgwood died locally in 1837, and this may well have been our man.