Clay, Coal, and Craft: A Day in the Life of a Staffordshire Potter
Step back in time to 1815 and experience a day in the life of William Barker, a skilled potter in Staffordshire’s thriving ceramic industry. From dawn to dusk, discover the artistry, challenges, and pride of this timeless craft.
As the crow of the cockerel pierces the early morning darkness, I stir from my slumber. The faint glow of dawn barely illuminates the small bedroom I share with my younger brother, Thomas. I’m William Barker, a 28-year-old potter born and raised in Burslem, the heart of Staffordshire’s bustling pottery industry. The year is 1815, and like my father and grandfather before me, I’ve dedicated my life to the art of ceramics.
Quietly, so as not to wake Thomas, I dress in my well-worn work clothes — a simple linen shirt, woolen breeches, and sturdy leather shoes. The cool morning air nips at my skin as I make my way downstairs. In the kitchen, my mother is already up, stoking the fire and preparing a hearty breakfast of porridge and bread. The aroma of freshly baked bread fills the air, a comforting scent that never fails to remind me of home.
As I eat, I exchange a few words with my father. He’s been retired from potting for a few years now, his hands too gnarled by arthritis to continue the delicate work. But his mind is as sharp as ever, and he often shares valuable insights about our craft. Today, he reminds me to be careful with the new batch of clay that arrived yesterday — it’s a bit wetter than usual and might need extra time to dry before throwing.
With a quick goodbye to my family, I set out for the pottery. The streets of Burslem are already coming to life, with fellow potters and other workers making their way to the various manufactories that dot our town. The air is thick with the smell of coal smoke from the numerous bottle kilns that dominate our skyline. It’s a scent that outsiders find unpleasant, but to us, it’s the smell of industry and prosperity.
I arrive at Wedgwood’s manufactory just as the factory bell rings, signalling the start of the workday. As I enter the bustling workshop, I’m greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of my trade. The rhythmic thump of clay being wedged, the whir of potter’s wheels, and the clinking of tools fill the air. I make my way to my workstation, nodding greetings to my fellow potters along the way.
My first task of the day is to prepare the clay. I take a large lump from the newly arrived batch and begin the process of wedging — kneading the clay to remove air bubbles and ensure a consistent texture. It’s physically demanding work, but crucial for creating high-quality pieces. As I work, I can’t help but marvel at how far our industry has come. When my grandfather started potting, Staffordshire wares were considered crude and unrefined. Now, thanks to innovators like Josiah Wedgwood, our pottery is sought after throughout England and beyond.
Once the clay is properly prepared, I move to my wheel. Today, I’m tasked with throwing a set of dinner plates for a wealthy London merchant. I center a ball of clay on the wheel and begin to shape it, my hands moving almost instinctively after years of practice. As the wheel spins, I carefully coax the clay upwards and outwards, forming the plate’s shape with practiced precision.
Time seems to fly by as I lose myself in the rhythmic process of throwing. Before I know it, the factory bell rings again, signalling our midday break. I step outside with some of my fellow potters to eat the simple lunch my mother packed — bread, cheese, and an apple from our small garden. As we eat, we chat about the latest news and gossip. There’s talk of a new pottery opening in Hanley, and speculation about how it might affect our work at Wedgwood’s.
After lunch, I return to my wheel to finish the set of plates. Once they’re complete, I carefully transfer them to the drying racks. They’ll need to dry completely before they can be fired in the kiln. While I wait for my next batch of clay, I assist some of the younger apprentices who are struggling with their throwing technique. I remember how challenging it was when I first started, and I’m happy to pass on the knowledge my father and other experienced potters shared with me.
As the afternoon wears on, I switch to decorating some previously fired pieces. This is the part of my job I enjoy most — the opportunity to add beauty and artistry to functional objects. Today, I’m working on a set of teacups, carefully painting delicate floral designs using cobalt blue underglaze. It’s painstaking work that requires a steady hand and an eye for detail, but the results are always rewarding.
Before I know it, the final bell of the day rings. As I clean up my workstation and prepare to leave, I can’t help but feel a sense of pride in what I’ve accomplished. Each piece I’ve created or decorated today will soon find its way into someone’s home, perhaps becoming a cherished family heirloom.
On my way home, I stop by the local pub for a quick pint with some of my fellow potters. It’s a chance to unwind and share stories about our day. The conversation inevitably turns to the latest developments in our trade — new glazing techniques, changes in popular designs, and rumours about potential new markets for our wares.
As I walk home in the fading light, I reflect on my place in the long line of Staffordshire potters. From the humble beginnings of our local industry to our current status as one of the world’s premier pottery-producing regions, we’ve come a long way. And yet, the essence of our craft remains the same — transforming simple clay into objects of beauty and utility.
Arriving home, I’m greeted by the warm glow of candlelight and the comforting smells of my mother’s cooking. Over dinner, I share the events of my day with my family. My father listens intently, occasionally offering advice or sharing anecdotes from his own days at the wheel. My younger siblings pepper me with questions about the pottery, their eyes wide with curiosity about the world beyond our home.
After dinner, I spend some time sketching new design ideas by candlelight. It’s a habit I’ve developed over the years, always striving to improve and innovate in my craft. As I draw, I think about the future of our industry. With the growing demand for Staffordshire wares and the constant push for innovation, who knows what new techniques or designs we might develop in the coming years?
As I prepare for bed, my muscles aching from the day’s labour but my mind content, I feel a deep sense of satisfaction. Tomorrow will bring new challenges and opportunities, new pieces to create and perfect. But for now, I rest, ready to face another day in the life of a Staffordshire potter.
Bob Lynn / 07-Sep-2024
