Commotion Time: Pool, June 4, 1847: The Cornish Food Riots, Part Three

Reading time: 15 minutes

Redruth first?¹

It may just have been taproom gossip that reached the wrong ears, but by Wednesday June 2, the authorities in Redruth knew trouble was headed their way. Soon. The town’s principal market day was that Friday, the 4th, and two local magistrates, John Penberthy Magor of Penventon House², and Mr S Davey, had been tipped the wink that a “large body of dissatisfied miners”³ were poised to descend on the town. Word was, it was the same band that had caused the recent disturbances in Helston and Penzance at the end of May.

If the whispers were true, Magor and Davey must have realised their town was facing difficulties. After all, a crowd of 5,000 was estimated to have been in Penzance: we can be sure this was a total that would have increased with the telling. Redruth had no police force: the Cornwall County Constabulary would not be formed for another ten years. The maintaining of law and order was normally entrusted to four Parish Officers: George Hicks, Robert Ford, William Nicholls, and John Lander, none of whom were full-time (for example, Lander worked as a grocer). Hastily, Special Constables, all prominent townspeople (and not miners or the rank-and-file), were sworn in. There was a draper, a butcher, and an auctioneer; we do not know the total number of deputised men, the ‘papers only name a half-dozen. Whatever the size of their ranks, they were obviously going to be badly outnumbered, and Magor and Davey were taking no chances. A messenger was sent to Penzance, where the military were still present. Sixty troops of the 5th Fusiliers were mobilised, and marched from Penzance to Hayle, where a chartered train conveyed them the last few miles to Redruth, and they were stationed at West End. (In command, as at Helston and Penzance, was Captain Simmonds.) Forty Pensioners were also pressed into service, their base being what was then the Vestry Room on Falmouth Rd. These hundred or so armed men were in position by the morning of the 4th. Even the coastguard was on standby.

Shops were boarded up. Women hustled their brats inside. Market-traders, especially the butchers, discretely removed their goods (and themselves) from harm’s way. Somewhere, two thousand people from the West were coming. They’d been kicked out of Helston, and received a little relief in Penzance. An army marches on its stomach – or on desperation.

Pool, “…early in the forenoon…”⁴

But maybe the miners had put their own feelers out. Twice now their intentions to fix prices in markets had been stillborn, due to the authorities being made aware in advance of their movements. It’s therefore quite reasonable to assume that those on the stank from the West anticipated, or even knew of, the defensive efforts being made against them in Redruth. Going somewhere else first would give them the element of surprise. And that somewhere was Pool.

By the time the crowd reached Pool, it was around 3,000 strong, more having joined en route. It wouldn’t have taken them long to ascertain the principal corn-factor of the village (indeed, the locals may have saved themselves no little trouble by pointing him out): this was Joel Blamey, from Gwennap⁵. Delegates, spokespeople, were rapidly sent to him, requesting that Blamey sell them his flour at 50 shillings, or £2 10s, a sack. Blamey either felt he could get a better deal elsewhere, or didn’t take kindly to having the value of his goods dictated to him by a bunch of proles. He refused, and was told that

…you raise your flour, and we don’t tell you when to raise it, and why won’t you fall it?

Royal Cornwall Gazette, July 9, 1847, p4

In many ways it was a bad decision, not least because, later, Blamey’s flour was only valued at £2 a sack⁶. There were also no soldiers in Pool, protecting his interests. Several gentlemen of the village attempted to pacify the crowd, who must have realised that, finally, unlike in Helston and Penzance, they were in the ascendant. The speeches, perhaps unsurprisingly, were “of no avail”⁷.

Then all hell broke loose.

Incited by the women present, such as Prudence Thomas, a copper dresser in her 30s from Illogan⁸, the crowd roared and moved as one on Blamey’s stores. William Osborne, 36, was heard to cry that he and several others were carrying gunpowder – just in case. Yet a sledgehammer was passed hand over hand to the front of the crush, and an obliging female walloped the warehouse doors open with several meaty blows. The mob charged in.

Maybe they stopped for a few seconds to withhold the bounty within – but only for a few seconds. A line had been crossed – no forced entry had been even contemplated in Helston, or been successful in Penzance. Plus, these people were starving. Men, women, and children fell on Blamey’s stock and made off with whatever they could carry. Aprons, bonnets, shawls, baskets, tubs and barrels were deemed worthy aids in plunder. Stephen Bennetts, a 17 year-old from Illogan, enterprisingly wheeled out an entire cart of flour and upended it in the road, for others to help themselves⁹.

All items were piled hastily together in the improvised vessels, wastage and ruination of the groceries being the collateral damage. Time wasn’t on the crowd’s side. Mary Ann Craze, a teenaged copper-dresser from Tregajorran¹⁰, quickly loaded her pinny with purloined tea and dashed off. Prudence Thomas was staggering under the weight of flour in her apron. Hundreds of others swarmed the building, taking what they could, as quickly as they could.

The “disgraceful disturbance”¹¹, or, if you will, scenes of people driven to extremes by hunger, couldn’t last.

The militia were rapidly mobilised from Redruth, Pensioners and Special Constables complimenting the detachment of regular soldiers. Magor also rode in on horseback. The troops stood to attention outside Blamey’s now rather sorry-looking place of business, whilst Magor, with a duty befitting his station, read the Riot Act. Under the Punishment of Offences Act of 1837, the crowd now had an hour to peacefully disperse. Anyone remaining at the scene after the expiration of that time, if arrested, could be transported for life.

Dispersing peacefully is one thing; dispersing peacefully after a raid on a corn-factor’s store whilst carrying the fruits of your labour is another matter altogether. Prudence Thomas, still lugging her apron of flour but also now brandishing a large wooden paddle, threatened to ram it into the teeth of one Special Constable if he didn’t back off. Even as Magor had finished reading the Riot Act and was officiously folding the manuscript back into his pocket, Ann Roberts, 45, narrowly sidestepped his mount in her bid to get away with her own basket of flour. Scores of other people must have been making similar sharp exits.

For example, a Parish Constable called William Nicholls was coming out of Pool towards Illogan Highway, when he apprehended Thomas Medlin (or Medlen) and William Dodson, both men carrying what must have been a suspicious quantity of flour. Nicholls manhandled the men and secured them in the Account House at Wheal Agar, but not for long.

Over a hundred men, one of whom was William Osborne, quickly materialised, and demanded of Nicholls that he release their comrades, or,

…d__n your eyes, we will tear the account-house down…

Royal Cornwall Gazette, July 9, 1847, p4

Nicholls said he would do no such thing, and was then subjected to a brutal assault. He was punched, stoned, and finally battered with a shovel, this last item eventually being flung through the windows of the Account House to release Medlin and Dodson. Nicholls staggered off, the cries and insults of Osborne and his cohorts ringing in his ears. Medlin and Dodson were never recaptured – and neither was their flour.

They were lucky. One by one, those prominent in the Pool raid were rounded up. Anonymous faces from out of town escaped with relative ease; it was the locals whom the Constables could readily identify that were in most danger of arrest. They were held at Bodmin Jail awaiting trial, which wasn’t until early July.

Crime and Punishment

William Osborne, Stephen Bennetts, Prudence Thomas, Ann Roberts and Mary Ann Craze were all tried at the same Midsummer Sessions as those who had fallen foul of the law at Redruth. As we shall see, the manner of their indictment was the same as that inflicted upon their Redruth comrades. Put bluntly, the authorities wanted to show those in the dock that

…the laws of England are stronger than brute force.

Royal Cornwall Gazette, July 9, 1847, p4

All were acquitted, however, of the charge of rioting, but were charged with breaking and entering the warehouse of Joel Blamey, and stealing his property, which was itemised as: 10 sacks of flour (value – £20), 10 hundredweight of flour (£20), 20 pounds of tea (£10), and 10 hemp sacks (20 shillings)¹⁴.

Osborne was let off this charge, but was given nine months hard labour for assaulting William Nicholl. Stephen Bennetts: eight months hard labour. Prudence Thomas and Ann Roberts: three months hard labour. Mary Ann Craze, for all her tears in court, recommendation of mercy by the jury, and family’s good reputation, was still given three months, with hard labour¹⁵.

At Bodmin Gaol in the 1840s, hard labour often meant several hours every day on the treadmill, or convict breaker. It could accommodate 26 prisoners at a time and its only purpose was to physically and mentally break its victims, which it often did. The sheer pointlessness of their extreme exertions drove many to nervous breakdowns.

The Chairman of the Magistrates, John King Lethbridge of Launceston, stated that he believed the court had given “mild” sentences, especially to the women. Furthermore, he went on, such magnanimity on the part of the bench had been given in the knowledge that Prudence Bennett had acted more like a “fury” than a woman, and Ann Roberts had indulged in “riotous” disturbances under the influence of the crowd. He hoped these lenient punishments would encourage the lower orders to show gratitude, rather than “hatred” toward the merchants who were endeavouring to import corn into Cornwall, and also to those people who were attempting to secure them aid¹⁷.

But the commotion time of June 4, 1847, was not over yet.

Here’s part four of the Cornish Food Riots of 1847:

Hellfire Corner: Redruth, June 4, 1847

Thanks for reading

References

1. The main narrative of this post is based on the Royal Cornwall Gazette (hereafter RCG) of June 11th (p2), 18th (p2), 25th (p3), July 2nd (p2), and July 9th (p1&4).
2. Magor was born c1796, and died in 1862. His journal is available at Kresen Kernow, ref FS/3/1130. Unfortunately, the last entries were made in 1846.
3. RCG, June 11th, p2.
4. RCG, June 11th, p2.
5. Blamey was born in 1786, according to the 1841 census, and died in 1868.
6. According to volume two of the 1862 Book of the Household (p511), a sack of flour would weigh 280lb, or five bushels, and could produce eighty loaves. The ten sacks of flour stolen from Blamey were valued at the trial of the rioters at a total of £20, so, £2/sack. See Kresen Kernow, Quarter Sessions Rolls 1847, QS/1/14/288.
7. RCG, June 11th, p2.
8. Kresen Kernow, Quarter Sessions Rolls 1847, QS/1/14/288, and 1851 census.
9. The goods itemised as stolen were: 10 sacks of flour (£20), 10 hundredweight of flour (£20), 20 pounds of tea (£10), 10 hemp sacks (20 shillings) and 10 sacks (20 shillings). Kresen Kernow, Quarter Sessions Rolls 1847, QS/1/14/288. Stephen Bennetts’ actions were described in court as reckless, and “violent”: RCG July 9 1847, p4.
10. 1851 census.
11. RCG, June 11th, p2.
12. See http://www.carnbreaparishcouncil.gov.uk/Pool_29209.aspx
13. See Jackie Freeman’s Photography Blog on Bodmin Jail here.
14. Kresen Kernow, Quarter Sessions Rolls 1847, QS/1/14/288.
15. Kresen Kernow, Quarter Sessions Rolls 1847, QS/1/14/288, 289, 290.
16. See Jackie Freeman’s Photography Blog on Bodmin Jail here.
17. RCG, July 9 1847, p4.