Am I Not a Man and a Brother?

By the late 1700s, slavery, most notably the trade in African slaves, was being increasingly seen by many in Britain as a great moral evil. Abolitionist pamphlets and literature distributed in taverns, coffee houses, assembly rooms, reading societies and private houses up and down the country brought home to the people of Britain the atrocities committed by the Atlantic slave trade, and attacked the entrenched attitudes and vicious practices of slave owners and the greed of the other moneyed interests that thrived on this inhuman traffic.

The anti-slavery movement had originated with non-conformist groups in Europe and America in the late 1600s. Quakers and other dissenters objected to slavery on both moral and religious grounds, but because of their unorthodox beliefs they were regarded as social outsiders and barred from public office and as a result their views were largely ignored save by their fellow dissenters. The movement had grown slowly in Britain during the 18th century, but it finally found a voice and a leader in 1786, when Thomas Clarkson published  An Essay on the Slavery and Commerce of the Human Species. This proved to be a rallying cry for the movement, bringing Clarkson into contact with other like-minded men and the next year he and eleven others formed the Committee for the Abolition of the Slave Trade. This Committee would become a Society as it grew and would coordinate the Parliamentary campaign led by MP William Wilberforce that resulted in the end of the international trade in African slaves. That eventual success was still a couple of decades away, but the Committee made a good start, not only by being led by men of intelligence and zeal, but also by utilising what could be considered an early example of product branding, namely an easy-to-recognise logo, mass-produced by leading Staffordshire potter Josiah Wedgwood.

Josiah Wedgwood.

Josiah Wedgwood like many abolitionists was a non-conformist, being brought up as a Unitarian. He was not an immediate recruit to the cause, his early life being devoted to setting himself up as a potter and businessman. However, he was always very keenly interested in the social movements of his time and their consequences for society at large. This found its way into his paternal attitude towards his workers, whom he housed in the new model estate of Etruria that he built around his factory, and can be seen in the interest he took in the American Revolutionary War and the French Revolution. His involvement in the anti-slavery movement, though, seems to have come about through the influence of his business partner Thomas Bentley. Bentley had worked as a merchant in Liverpool, a circumstance that might normally have made him a supporter of slavery, but he was firmly opposed to the trade and unlike the other merchants refused to go and meet the slave ships when they came into port. Doubtless Bentley's feelings on the matter influenced Wedgwood in this just as his knowledge of arts and science had done earlier in their friendship. Certainly, following Bentley's death in 1780, Wedgwood subscribed to all the tracts and pamphlets concerning the abolition of the slave trade and used his influence to do all that he could to help the cause.

Wedgwood became friends with Thomas Clarkson and in 1787 he joined the Committee for the Abolition of the Slave Trade shortly after it was set up. As an experienced businessman  Wedgwood would prove to be a valuable asset in the Committee's arsenal. He understood the value of publicity - he afterall, was the man who had pioneered the idea of the money back guarantee and the benefits of the 'By Appointment' status of Royal patronage - and he now came to the Committee with a brilliant idea to help promote their cause. Better still, he had the means to bring his plan to fruition and was willing to pay for it out of his own pocket.

Wedgwood proposed producing a classically inspired oval cameo based on the seal of the Committee. This showed a kneeling African slave in chains, imploring mercy or pity, with the motto 'Am I Not a Man and a Brother?' The idea appealed to the Committee and Wedgwood immediately got one of his best craftsmen, William Hackwood, to first model and then prepare for production what became known as the slave medallion. Hackwood used Wedgwood's black jasper to represent the supplicant slave, set against a white or cream background in the same ceramic body, with the motto moulded in relief above and partly around the figure. Then, once the working moulds had been made, the medallion went into production. Thousands were made and Wedgwood immediately began sending them out - again out of his own pocket - to interested parties. Thomas Clarkson, writing years later, remembered receiving his first batch and recalled the instant and telling popularity the slave medallion enjoyed.

'Mr Wedgwood made a liberal donation of these, when finished, among his friends. I received from him no less than five hundred of them myself. They, to whom they were sent, did not lay them up in their cabinets, but gave them away likewise. They were soon, like The Negro’s Complaint, in different parts of the kingdom. Some had them inlaid in gold on the lid of their snuff-boxes. Of the ladies, several wore them in bracelets, and others had them fitted up in an ornamental manner as pins for their hair. At length, the taste for wearing them became general; and thus fashion, which usually confines itself to worthless things, was seen for once in the honourable office of promoting the cause of justice, humanity, and freedom.'

Most of the medallions were distributed via the Committee, but Wedgwood sent out many more himself, most notably in 1788 when he sent a package of the cameos across the Atlantic to Benjamin Franklin, an old acquaintance from the Lunar Society and at that time the president of the Pennsylvania Society for the Abolition of Slavery. Wedgwood wrote 'It gives me great pleasure to be embarked on this occasion in the same great and good cause with you and I ardently hope for the final completion of our wishes.' Franklin replied, 'I am persuaded [the medallion] may have an Effect equal to that of the best written Pamphlet in procuring favour to those oppressed people.' Sadly for both, neither Franklin nor Wedgwood would live long enough to see those wishes fulfilled.

Wedgwood continued to actively support the anti-slavery movement right up to his death in early 1795. He bought shares in a company set up to form a colony for freed slaves in Sierra Leone; befriended and advised William Wilberforce who would lead the parliamentary fight against slavery; and he paid for the printing and distribution of an anti-slavery pamphlet that the Committee produced. Offering to pay the cost for the production of a woodcut block, he advised them to head their pamphlet not with the advertisement they had originally planned, but with the woodcut, a reproduction of the same image of the kneeling slave that had inspired his own ceramic contribution to the cause.

Reference: Thomas Clarkson, History of the Abolition of the Slave Trade, vol. II (1807)

Website: Wedgwood Museum

Cannons from the Crimea

Standing outside of the Brampton Museum in Newcastle-under-Lyme is a large black-painted cannon, mounted on a cast-iron limber. This was one of thousands of similar pieces of war booty brought back from the Crimea, following the fall of the Russian citadel of Sevastopol in 1855. In that city the Allied armies had discovered a large ordnance depot filled with 4,000 damaged or obsolete guns and these along with many of the guns captured during the fighting were later used as ballast on the merchantmen and troopships when they were bringing the army home. The Crimean War (1854-1856), had been a horrendous and utterly pointless conflict and perhaps as part of a wider public relations exercise to calm the national anger at the lives lost and at just how badly the war had been run, these cannon were freely distributed to towns and cities around the country.

Newcastle's cannon, weighing 2.8 tons is a 36 pounder made in 1840, and was presented to the Borough in 1857 by its then MP Samuel Christy. It was originally situated in Stubbs Walks, opposite the Orme Girl's School, Newcastle, where it stood until 1965, when it was moved to its current location. Such was the fate of most of these retired instruments of war and in the latter half of the nineteenth century it was no unusual thing to find a large, defunct piece of Russian artillery decorating a municipal park or fronting some grand civic building anywhere in Britain. Today, though, they are not so common; time and necessity have seen many of the others scattered or scrapped over the years and such seems to have been the case with a couple of cannons that came to the Potteries, no trace of which now seems to exist.

Newcastle's impressive Russia cannon in situ. The carriage was mass-produced at the Royal Armouries in Woolwich.

In his autobiography Past Years, Potteries-born scientist Oliver Lodge, mentioned a close encounter with a Russian cannon in his youth. Lodge recalled that at a very young age his father took him from their home in Penkhull down the steep hill to Stoke where peace celebrations marking the end of the Crimean War were taking place. A captured Russian cannon had been placed in front of the Wheatsheaf Hotel and Mr Lodge told his son to wait by the cannon until he came back for him. Looking up at the monstrous artillery piece, young Oliver wondered what they were going to do with the gun, half fearing but half hoping that they were going to fire it. However, nothing so exciting happened, instead the local dignitaries made several speeches before they all set off for lunch. Oliver's father went with them, minus his boy, and afterwards in the evening he went home having completely forgotten about Oliver. Only after returning home and being asked by his wife where their son was did he suddenly remember and went dashing off back down the bank to find the lad still obediently standing by the gun, utterly unconcerned at being left alone for several hours after everyone else had departed. 

The Victoria History of Staffordshire notes that a Russian cannon was presented to the town by W. T. Copeland in 1857 and erected opposite the Wheatsheaf Hotel in 1858, as per Lodge's memoirs. In 1858, the Illustrated London News carried an interesting illustration of what was called Stoke-upon-Trent's 'Russian trophy', along with some background information.

Author's collection

'RUSSIAN TROPHY AT STOKE-UPON-TRENT.' 

'We give a representation of the Russian Trophy as mounted and in closed at Stoke-upon-Trent a few weeks ago. The gun is placed on a stone platform, as shown in the Illustration, in which the Royal arms, in Minton's tiles, is inserted. On the stone parapet an ornamental railing of a handsome pattern is placed, and at each angle of the square of the platform a pillar in cast iron rises, to carry the wrought-iron scrollwork, which was manufactured by Mr. Haslam, of Derby, and is an excellent specimen of the old art of ironworking, now so ex­tensively superseded by the process of casting. All the ironwork is coloured in imitation of Florentine bronze, and richly gilt in the more decorative parts of the design. The whole is surmounted by a large globe lamp, which forms the principal feature of the construction, as the erection, being placed at the junction of three streets, requires a prominent and well adapted mode of lighting. The trophy was in­augurated by Mr. Alderman Copeland, one of the members for the borough, who also defrayed the expenses connected with mounting the piece. The work was designed and carried out under Mr. Edgar, architect.'

Longton also received a gun, but even less is known about that one. There is a brief note in the Staffordshire Sentinel in 1867 that reads: 'The same committee reported a resolution, in accordance with a suggestion from the Council, to remove the Russian cannon from the front of the Town Hall to the space within the railings at the front of the Court House... The proceedings were approved, and the recommendation adopted.' In his Sociological History of Stoke-on-Trent, E. J. D. Warrilow includes a photograph of Longton Court House with the cannon situated behind the railings as described, but a second photo taken in 1950 shows that the gun had been removed. It was resited to Queen's Park, Longton, where it stood in front of the clock tower. However, it has long since vanished and its current whereabouts are unknown.

Stoke's gun was also later moved, to a site in Hill Street by the old town hall in about 1874, but what finally happened to this and Longton's cannon is unknown. The most likely scenario is that the valuable metal was sacrificed to the war effort early in World War Two, and ironically perhaps went on to become part of a more modern arsenal. 

Contrast this sad end with that of the Newcastle gun which has achieved a certain status in the area. Between 1919 to 1942, during its time in Stubb's Walks, the cannon was joined by a World War One training tank as a companion, but the tank was sent to be scrapped during World War Two. When the Crimean gun was shifted from its original site in 1965 some feared that it too was destined to be melted down and contractors arrived to find that some of the pupils from the Orme Girl's School had hung a notice on the gun - 'Hands off our cannon'. They need not have worried. Today, the cannon points out over the Brampton Park, providing a striking and novel photo opportunity to visitors to the town's museum. 

Reference: Oliver Lodge, Past Years: An Autobiography (Cambridge, 1931) pp. 22-23. E. J. D. Warrillow, A Sociological History of Stoke-on-Trent, p.385, Illustrated London News, 12 June 1858, Staffordshire Sentinel, 6 July 1867, Victoria History of Staffordshire Vol. VIII., p.180.

Website: Crimean Cannon International Database

The Railways Come to Town

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

Stoke Station in 1863
(Author's collection)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Titanic Engineer

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

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

North Street, Stoke

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

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

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

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

A White Star engineer

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

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

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

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

The Titanic Engineers Memorial, Southampton

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

Website: Encyclopedia Titanica

The Sneyd Colliery Disaster

The memorial to the men lost in the disaster.

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characteristics of the Working Population

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

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

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

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

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

Visiting Burslem's Houses of Ill Fame.

Burslem town centre in the early 19th century.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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