In his book “Old Times In The Potteries” published in 1906, William Scarratt tells us there were 50 houses in Tunstall in 1740.
These houses, which Scarratt called cottages, were built of brick. Most had tiled roofs although a few were thatched. A house called The Cottage at Clay Hills was thatched as were cottages in America Street, a building at the Round Well (where Ladywell Road joins Roundwell Street) and six properties in Watergate Street.
Whether thatched or tiled, these two storey houses had four rooms. Known as “two up and two down”, they had two rooms downstairs and two rooms upstairs. On the ground floor was a large front room behind which was a small back room. Upstairs there were two bedrooms.
There were some houses with tiled roofs at The Flash, near where High Street becomes Brownhills Road, and six more on the site of the former community centre built in the 1990s, which is now occupied by Tunstall Children’s Centre.
A group of buildings stood on the site where the town hall and the market hall were erected during the second half of the 19th century. There were houses in Mill Street (The Boulevard) and near the Swan Inn in High Street.
Tunstall, which is one of Stoke-on-Trent’s six towns, was very much like a country town as late as 1854. The oak and other trees around Greengates House, the large house built by William Adams in the 18th century near where Furlong Road joins High Street, were quite leafy. Rooks built their nests in them, and there were wild ducks on the pond in front of the house. There were several large trees in the courtyard at the back of the house, and the cawing of the rooks was noisy enough in springtime. Little birds built their nests in the hedgerows below Christ Church – I have found them there. Nobody today would think that a pack of harriers or beagles were kept at Greengates House, but that is a fact, the then owner being fond of sport. I should think the pack numbered 15 couples. I have met them when walking to the grammar school at Newchapel. Furlong Road which led to Greenfields was once narrow and overhung in some places with laburnum and other trees.
(An edited extract from “Old Times in the Potteries” by William Scarratt published in 1906)
In this edited extract from Old Times in The Potteries by William Scarrat published in 1906, the author looks back and reflects on the changes which took place in Tunstall during the second half of the 19th century.
It would be well for some qualified person to estimate our losses and gains since the 1850s. We have lost the sweet fields and the green foliage which sheltered happy songbirds. Gone, too, are the wealthy townsmen, in search of health and quiet breathing. That grand old man, Sir Smith Child, Bart, removed his last oak tree from Newfield Hall in 1846. The advice and opinions of these cultured absentees are lost to a great degree. If the urbanity and the hospitality of the past were not over-refined, they were generous and hearty. Parks, however estimable, are not an equivalent to the free haunts of the past; for one thing, you did not see a notice “Keep off the grass” next to the pathway. The freedom of all grades and classes is unlimited in other respects, and working conditions are much better. But at the same time, we miss the patriarchal behaviour of a previous generation of master potters. One is aware that even in that state there were certain evils. The employer and the employee are now too frequently rivals. Up to the end of the 18th century, they often worked side by side. A good master would have a good man, and did not begrudge him good wages – he would just as soon have an empty cottage as an empty bench.
AN 18th CENTURY DOGFIGHT
In this edited extract from “Old Times in The Potteries”, by William Scarratt, who was born at Tunstall in the early 1840s, the author describes a dogfight which he saw when he was a pupil at King Street National School.
William told his readers that:
“Even though dogfighting was on the decline in the 1840s and 1850s, there were still many fighting dogs kept in Tunstall. These bull-terriers or fighting dogs had coarse yellow or brown hair with white patches over one or both eyes and ears. The dogs were pugnacious to a high degree, although affectionate and quiet at home. A fighting dog had to be prompted to attack another fighting dog, but once a fight started the two dogs continued fighting until they were exhausted.
“On one occasion during school dinner time, I saw a fight between two dogs. One was a white bull-terrier that weighed 24lbs. The other was a broken haired, crossbred bull-terrier that weighed 28lbs.
“No one tried to stop them fighting. After several rounds both dogs were exhausted. They could only crawl along the ground to each other to continue the fight when the next round started.
“It was an accidental scratch battle, to begin with. Then men took respective sides for each dog. A series of lines were drawn on the ground to make ‘a ring’ in which the dogs could fight. At the end of each round, the dogs were picked up by their owners and carried over the lines where their mouths were cleared of loose hairs.
“Because the spectators believed neither combatant would yield to the other, I understood that the dog which failed to drag itself over the first of the series of lines at the start of the next round would be considered vanquished. The contest lasted about an hour. When it ended, the men picked up the dogs who were unable to walk and took them to the Grapes Inn where they were weighed in an outhouse.”