Tag: Chesterton

  • Along the Roman Road

    A Roman legionary of the 1st Century BC.

    For centuries the island of Britain was home to a mix of Celtic tribes, living at varying levels of development and with differing degrees of contact with the wider world. Their existence drew fleeting Roman interest in 55–54 BC, when Julius Caesar crossed the Channel twice on short punitive expeditions against certain south‑coast tribes that he believed were aiding their fellow Celts in Gaul. Almost a hundred years later, though, in 43 AD, Celtic control of Britain came to an abrupt end when the Romans returned for good. Establishing a firm foothold in Kent and Essex, these disciplined invaders pushed inland, defeating or overawing the native inhabitants and securing their new province with a growing network of roads that they built as they moved inland. The Roman army advanced in three battle groups, each built around a legion. Legio II moved into the south‑west towards Somerset and Devon, Legio IX marched north towards Lincoln, and Legio XIV headed into the west midlands, establishing bases at Shrewsbury and Chester by around 50 AD. It was therefore in about 48–49 AD, five years after the initial landings, that the first Roman soldiers entered what would become the county of Staffordshire.

    Although South Staffordshire shows abundant evidence of Roman occupation, the north of the county was at that time a sparsely inhabited expanse of woodland and rough, hilly ground, that was largely unsuitable for farming. The Romans appear to have found little of value there and only scattered forts, small settlements and a handful of villas being constructed. North Staffordshire seems to have simply been a wild region through which military and civilian traffic passed en route to more important or profitable destinations.

    The route these travellers took was the Roman trunk road that once linked Derby with Chester, a route along which some Roman sites have been discovered. Local historian John Ward in his history The Borough of Stoke-upon-Trent, lists the road as the ‘Via Devana or Rikeneld Street’ (i.e. Rykeneld Street) an identification lent support by the Street being mentioned by name as a boundary of lands in Normacot granted to Hulton Abbey in 1223. From east to west, the road entered the county at Rochester, where an auxiliary fort—possibly occupied by a cavalry regiment—and its accompanying vicus (a trading settlement or village outside the fort) were established. From there it ran just south of Uttoxeter, then cut across country towards present-day Stoke-on-Trent, passing through what are now Tean, Blythe Bridge, Meir, Normacot, part of old Longton, Fenton and on to Stoke, where it crossed the River Trent. In 1887, workmen carrying out road improvements uncovered part of the Roman roadway near Stoke church, apparently the approach to the Trent crossing. Other sections have been found in Campbell Place, Stoke, in King Street, Longton and in Honeywall. Many Roman coins have been found all along the line of this old road, some in Stoke but the majority in Longton, where in 1960 a resident of Lightwood Road was digging in his garden and found an earthenware pot containing 2,461 coins 1,739 of which were Roman coins of the 3rd century. More recently in 2015 another large cache of over 2,000 coins and other items were discovered at Barlaston, which though some miles from the line of the Roman road, is certainly within it’s catchment area. The dates of the various coin finds along the road show that it remained in use throughout the entire period of Roman occupation in Britain.

    A detail of John Ward’s map of the Roman road from his The Borough of Stoke-upon-Trent (1843).

    The road may then have continued to Etruria before passing through present‑day Hartshill, Basford and May Bank towards Chesterton, where, as the name suggests, another small auxiliary fort stood. Built in the early Flavian period c.70 AD, this replaced an earlier temporary fort at Trent Vale that had been abandoned. A 16th to early 17th century antiquarian, Sampson Erdeswicke, noted in his work A Survey of Staffordshire that the rubble he found on the site ‘Rubbish of Stone and Lime’, suggested that the fort had once possessed walls of ‘marvellous thickness’ hinting at stone-built walls rather than a wooden palisade, though as Robert Plot notes in his Natural History of Staffordshire if that was the case none of these seem to have survived to the early 1680s when he visited the site, the valuable dressed stone most likely having been robbed away for use in other later buildings. More modern surveys have found the remains of a clay oven and cookhouse built into the supporting rampart and the remains of a bath house have been unearthed most likely outside the fort. Not far removed from the fort the remains of a marching camp has also been discovered off Loomer Road.

    Although pottery was a major industry in Roman Britain, surprisingly little seems to have been produced in North Staffordshire. Yet in 1958 the remains of a Roman updraught pottery kiln, together with evidence of a potter’s workshop beside it, were uncovered at Trent Vale. Dating to around 50 AD, the pottery was probably established to serve the military and appears to have produced a wide range of wares. These included flagons, storage jars, cinerary urns, bowls, cooking pots, lamp holders, incense burners and Samian‑style platters, along with more unusual pieces such as a so‑called ‘face vase’, a globular pot bearing a roughly moulded human face on one side. At a nearby civilian settlement at Holditch, some fragments of this ‘Trent Vale’ ware have been found, which proves that the pottery was used locally. Pottery fragments have also been found on the site of the fort at Chesterton, though none of these appear to have originated from the Trent Vale pottery. This is surprising as much of the pottery produced there was of high quality for the period, especially a group of gravel‑flecked pots that had been turned, finished and then decorated. Eight of these formed the kiln’s final load and were sealed inside when the clay roof collapsed during firing.

    The potter’s workshop, a wattle‑and‑daub structure with a thatched roof, was at some point destroyed by fire. As it stood dangerously close to the kiln, the nearest post hole lying less than two feet from the stoke hole, it is highly likely that sparks or flames from the collapsing oven ignited the building. There is no evidence that anyone died in the blaze, though some personal belongings such as buttons and coins were trapped in the debris. The Roman or Romano‑British potters who worked there also seem to have enjoyed games of chance in their leisure time, as several glass‑paste gaming counters were found on the site.

    The Trent Vale kiln was probably fuelled with wood from the local forests, but there is some evidence that coal was being used here in the Roman period. A number of small Roman industrial sites have been uncovered near to the River Trent in Bucknall, which were probably used for the smelting and forging of iron.

    Reference: Anthony Bell, ‘Excavations at Rocester, Staffordshire, by Fiona Sturdy in 1964 and 1968’, in Staffordshire Archaeological Studies, New Series, Nº3 1986, pp.20-51; Gary Cooper, Farmers and Potters (2002) pp. 13-14; Sampson Erdswicke, A Survey of Staffordshire (1723), p.9; Robert Plot, The Natural History of Staffordshire (1686), chapter 10, paragraph 67, p.434; John Ward, The Borough of Stoke-upon-Trent (1843) pp. 8-17. See also entries for Chesterton Roman fort in The Journal of Antiquities -https://thejournalofantiquities.com/2013/08/09/chesterton-roman-fort-north-staffordshire/; and Roman Britain -https://www.roman-britain.co.uk/places/chesterton/; Staffordshire Newsletter, 13 December 2016.

  • Zeppelins Over the Potteries

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

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

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

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

    German airship designer Count Zeppelin

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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