This page was started because of an email I received from John Adelmann of the
Central Alternative High School, Dubuque, Iowa which closed in 2011 but in 2005 was doing research into a local lead shot tower built in 1856. John wanted to know a little about the history of lead shot making, which went back to William Watts of Bristol in around 1780. Whilst researching William Watts, I came across quite a bit of the history of lead working in Bristol and so this page was created.
It appears that Bristol has long been a centre for lead making and manufacturing. Lead has probably been mined from the Mendips, a range of hills just south of Bristol, since pre-Roman days. The last Mendip lead mine, St. Cuthbert's, closed in 1908, unable to compete with cheaper, better quality, imported lead. In 1869, St. Cuthbert's employed forty men, but soon after it ran into financial difficulties. The buildings fell into disrepair and much of the existing plant was pulled down. Lead was again produced in 1881, however, when St Cuthbert's was under new ownership, and over 650 tons of metal were produced in 1889, in addition to dressed ore - galena (lead sulphide) - sold in Bristol, probably to Sheldon Bush's Blackswarth lead works. New equipment was installed in the 1890s and more in the early 1900s, but the works were finally closed in 1908 and the plant dismantled and sold in 1910. The three chimneys disappeared around 1928 and today only a complex of foundations, flues and condenser passages, with a few massive sections of masonry remain on the site. (from "Industrial Archaeology of the Bristol Region" by Angus Buchanan and Neil Cossons - Augustus M Kelley, New York, 1969)
Two lead ingots, weighing respectively, 76 lbs. and 89 lbs., bearing the inscription "IMP. CAES. A--NINI, Aug. PIL, PP" which means they were made somewhere between A.D. 139-161, were recovered from the River Frome sometime in the 19th century. These Roman ingots provide proof that Bristol was in the lead trade for over 1,800 years, until 1995 when Sheldon Bush finally closed. (from "Bristol - Past and Present" by J. F. Nicholls and John Taylor - Arrowsmith, 1881 – Volume 1 – Civil History, page 26)
John Latimer in his "Annals of Bristol in the Eighteenth Century" (1893) says that...
In June, 1756, John Pitman and Son, "proprietors of the Bristol (new erected) Lead Smelting Works," announced that they had begun operations, and solicited support. Their factory was situated on the Somerset side of the Avon, near to the Hot Well, and the clouds of poisonous smoke issuing from the furnaces proved highly offensive to fashionable visitors. The nuisance was long submitted to in silence, but in 1761 a complaint was raised in the Gentleman's Magazine by Dr. D. W. Linden, a metropolitan physician, who followed his patients to Clifton every summer (and who is scurrilously caricatured by Smollett in "Humphrey Clinker"). Dr. Linden asserted that the Well was "not only the second medicinal spring in Britain, but in all Europe," and expressed astonishment that the "necessary improvements to the place should have been so much neglected." As no further reference to the subject has been found, the works were probably discontinued.
In January 2013, Julian Lea-Jones gave me permission to reprint part of his very nice book "Bristol Curiosities" that was printed in 2007 by Birlinn. ISBN 13: 9781 84158 589 5 ISBN 10: 1 84158 589 0.
Gruffy Gounds to Litfields
I wonder if you have ever given much thought to the curious connection between Gruffy Grounds and Litfield Place, or even realise what Gruffy Grounds are. If you don't know, all is about to be revealed and, if it is any consolation, before researching Bristol's medieval water systems I didn't know either. Here is a clue; the two are linked as in 'from plumbago to lumbago'. If you still haven't guessed, the answer is lead. Gruffy ground is a mining term, and refers to the rough ground left by open or shallow mining or even quarrying activity. On the other hand litfield, means lead fields and the place in Clifton of that name refers to one of the sites where lead was mined. According to the Bristol Pewterer George Symes Catcott, who may have been duped by young Chatterton, but could have been expected to know all about lead, in what is now Litfield Place, (currently nice residences and medical consultancies, coincidentally next door to Harley Place – prestige by association?), there was a fissure where lead was mined. In early mining the technique would have been to work a naturally occurring fissure or to dig simple trenches to follow the vein of galena or lead ore. Hence my clue, plumbago, from the Latin, leading to lumbago for which I'm sure you could receive excellent treatment from the many medical consultants that have set up shop in Litfield House. Plumbago apart from a flowering shrub with nice light blue flowers is also the source of the name of the person who works in lead, (although nowadays this has been extended to include other metals and plastic), a Plumber. But nowadays unless you know what to look out for, little evidence exists of Bristol's historic lead industry.
Lead working, both in Bristol and to the south in the Mendip hills at Charterhouse and Priddy, has taken place since Roman times and probably back to the Iron Age. The knowledge that we had lead workings hereabouts would have been one of the attractions for the Romans who needed large quantities of lead for their extensive water systems throughout their empire. The Roman exploitation of our local resources has been confirmed both by isotope analysis which has shown that even some of the lead water cisterns at Pompeii were made from our local lead. More tangible evidence came to light when the River Frome which flows through the centre of Bristol was being culverted. Two lead ingots were recovered from the river at Wade Street in Bristol The very heavy 54.6 cms long ingots were stamped: Imp[eratoris] Caes[aris] Antonini Aug[usti] Pii P[atris] p[atriae]; which translates as: "of the Emperor Caesar Antonius Augustus pius father of the fatherland" Ad 139 – 161" and are now in the Bristol Museum collection, under Cat No.G2, BRSMG F4316. I wonder what the Roman was for 'Oops', especially as they each weighed nearly ninety pounds. One theory at the beginning of the twentieth century was that they came from a Bristol lead mine, but the considered opinion of the day was that they were more likely to have come from the Romans' Mendip mines. One explanation for their internment in a Bristol riverbank was that they were en route from the Mendip mines to the Roman port of Abonae at Sea Mills.
Romans using British slaves to mine the lead from the Mendips and losing it in Bristol, - but what has this to do with us? Long after the Romans had left Britain, Bristol's growing importance led to four Monastic orders and other religious houses establishing themselves in or around the medieval town. We will see why the lead was needed if we take the needs of just one of the orders, the Carmelites, as an example. Their order, which was representative of the other monastic houses, required a lot of lead pipe because their system of pipes and tunnels that dates from 1267 was built to carry and safeguard the water from their springs on the upper slopes of Brandon Hill down to their Friary on the site of the Colston Hall. a third of a mile away. The deep valley of Frogmore Lane necessitated a sealed pipe for that part of the route. In 1376 the Friars generously extended their system to provide water for their neighbouring parishioners of St John the Baptist, (the Church on the Wall at the bottom of Broad street). After the confiscation of their possessions on 30th July 1538 by the King (the Reformation), their water supply and pipe, although continuing as a supply for the Parishioners, was also put to a number of secular uses.
One reference to the amount of lead used in these buildings was found in a letter dated July 30th 1538 in which, during the Reformation, the Kings Commissioner making his rounds of the Kingdom in order to report how much there was to plunder, wrote to the Secretary Thomas Cromwell. He wrote; "The Whyte Fryeres [Carmelites] of Bristowe, the whyche all that was in yt ys lytyll more than paid the dettes. Yt is a goody house in byldenge, mete for a great man, no renttes but there gardens. There ys a chapel and an yle off the church and diverse gutteres, spouts and condytes, lede [of lead]… a goodly laver and condyte comynge to yt". All this goes to show that there was a need for lead, and we know that although there was plenty in the Mendip Hills, Bristolians questioned the need to drag it all the way from there when there were smaller quantities, but probably enough for the town's needs, less than a mile away on Sir Ralph Sadleir's manor of Clifton.
Nowadays the 'Downs' is mainly a smooth open space, but it was not always so. Although it is a flat plateau the edges of Clifton and Durdham downs were once dotted with quarries, claypits and lead workings. Most of these have long been filled in to provide Bristolians with a grassy open space suitable for all forms of recreation from football to kite flying, (once there was even a racecourse). Names such as Claypit Road, leading off Westbury Road, the gruffy ground, and 'The Glen' are the only reminders of the plateau's former use. The Glen quarry, which may of us remember with affection because of the 1950s dance hall that was on the floor of the quarry, (out of sight of our parents), has in recent years been replaced by a private hospital that now sits in the quarry like a large brick iceberg with only the upper storeys showing above the quarry rim. But what of the Gruffy grounds? Much of these lead workings have also been filled in, with the rough ground alongside Upper Belgrave Road stretching from the top of Blackboy Hill to Pembroke Road the only visible reminder.
The gruffy ground alongside Upper Belgrave Road
I wonder if any of the BMX Bikers who see the broken ground with its pits and gullies as a challenge realise what they are riding over. In the eighteenth century this patch of wild ground was once a place to be feared, as the same rough ground and scrub that provides modern BMX'ers with their cycling challenge also provided highway robbers and ne'er-do-wells with a perfect place to ambush those travelling between Clifton and Westbury-on-Trym. In those days a trip across the Downs was not for the faint hearted or for those without a well primed pistol. At a time when justice for those caught was quick and often brutal, a gallows was set up on the road junction at the head of Pembroke Road, (then called Gallows Acre Lane), where the guilty were left to hang as food for the crows and as a salutary warning to other miscreants.
Other evidence for Bristol's local lead industry came from a fourteenth century mention of a Lead Blowing Mill. In 1373, Edward Ill instructed that a perambulation be made of a rivulet called Woodwill's Lake running from Jacob's Well along its course to a conduit of the Abbott of St. Austins'. The mill reported to be on the bank of the Sandbrook, now Jacobs Wells Road, would have been on the opposite side of the same hill where the spring for the Carmelites' Pipe rose. Owen Ward, who has carried out extensive studies of the different forms and types of mills, said that it is likely that this lead blowing mill on the riverbank would almost certainly have been a smelter that used the water power from the stream running down the valley to drive either bellows or mechanism to provide a draught for the furnace.
We now have evidence for
- A local need for lead.
- A local supply, from the Gruffy Ground workings and from the lead-fields, (Litfields).
- At least one documented facility for working the lead.
Thus a, b, and c were all within a mile of each other which made good logistic sense and could explain why lead pipes were used extensively in Bristol. Another friend, Leonard Nott who had worked in the local plumbing industry for many years and who had also carried out extensive research into the subject, provided me with the following information on local methods of lead working techniques which were largely unchanged from Roman times. The lead from the smelter would first have been cast into ingots for storage or transport. The ingots were also known as pigs, because of the way they were fashioned. An oval depression was made in the ground with a number of ingot shaped depressions coming off one side looking as can be seen much like a sow with a row suckling piglets. The lead was poured in so that it flowed into each of the ingot shaped depressions, and when it was cooled the ingots could be broken off and stamped ready for transport.
Ancient method of casting lead pigs from a sow
The techniques for manufacturing sheet lead used for cisterns and for pipes were fundamentally unaltered from the medieval period and beyond. Right from Roman times, lead sheets used for covering the roofs of buildings, for making cisterns for water, for dyeing vats and water pipes and for many other purposes, were all produced in a similar manner. Sheet lead was made using a strong table, from fifteen to twenty feet long, and five to six feet broad, with an even ledge around it like a billiard table. The top of it is then covered with a smooth layer of fine sand. The ingots, having been remelted in a furnace, are poured into a trough set across the end of the table. The trough full of molten lead is then tilted over to cause it to run evenly over the sand on the table as quickly as possible. Two people, stationed one on either side of the casting table then draw a long board (known as a 'Strike') over the surface, which by resting on the ledges on either side, enables them to push forward the superfluous metal leaving a sheet of lead of uniform thickness, equal to the height of the ledge.. One firm in Bristol continued to make lead sheet by this method until their premises and equipment was destroyed in a World War II bombing raid of the 24th November 1940.
Interestingly the Council House on College Green was the last public building to have a sheet lead roof cast in-situ using this equipment. Smaller sheets, suitable for lead pipe making, as those for the monastic water conduit pipes were made in a similar way. The only difference was that a plank of wood, about nine inches wide for the size of pipe in the Park Street tunnels, was pressed into the sand and removed to form a depression of the required size. The lead was then poured into the depression resulting in a piece of cast lead which could then be rolled and soldered to form a pipe.
In those days, plumbing was hard work. The pipes were anything from eleven to twenty feet long and about four inches in diameter, each pipe weighing anything from 116 to 177 lbs weight for an eleven-foot length (based on the distance between joints in the Park Street pipe), or between 210 to 323 lbs weight for a twenty-foot length. Imagine trying to wrestle a third of a mile of that pipe into a four foot high tunnel, (the height of the tunnels that run beneath Park Street), and then the pipes still had to be soldered together! What incentive did the fourteenth-century plumber have for all this hard work?
An ancient record book for Bristol, the Great Red Book, has an entry for the 1st October 1376 naming a plumber, Hugh White, who was required, at his own expense, to maintain the supply of water to the Quay Pipe, All Saints Pipe and St. Johns Pipe, (the Carmelites Pipe), as well as providing one thousand feet of strong new pipe per annum. For this service he was to be paid ten pounds per year, which came from the rents of several houses standing on the bridge at Bristol (In those days Bristol Bridge had houses, shops and a Church, much like the old London Bridge). This was for his term of life with the proviso that, if the supply failed for more than six days, he would be fined his whole payment for the year - the full ten pounds. An incentive contract with a swingeing penalty clause! I wonder how some of our modern water supply companies would measure up against that?
To try and get an idea of the value of the contract to Mr. White, and to put his salary into a medieval context, I checked through Will Books for that century. They showed that the amounts of money bequeathed in estates varied from twenty shillings (one pound) to forty pounds, but that was for a rich Burgess of the City. In conclusion, the good news was Hugh White had a contract that set him up for life, and he could source his lead locally from the Gruffy Ground workings or from the Litfields. The bad news was there were a lot of hills that he had to get the pipe up, and the even worse news was that if he didn't deliver he would very quickly starve.
The biggest development in lead shot production occurred around 1780. Legend has it that William Watts, a local plumber, had a dream about molten lead falling from the sky and producing perfectly round spheres (shot) as it did so. Others say that he dreamed that his wife was standing on the tower at St. Mary Redcliffe Church, pouring molten lead on him through the holes in a rusty frying pan. Another version says that he'd been drinking heavily one night and fell asleep at the foot of the tower of St. Mary Redcliffe church. He then had a dream that the church caught fire and that as the lead on the roof melted it dropped to the ground, where it landed in pools of water and solidified as perfectly spherical shot.
Small shot had been made by the "long drop into water" method for around a hundred years. Larger shot was made by pouring the lead into moulds Both processes led to a considerable proportion of the shot being unevenly shaped and the shot had to be placed in a churn and rotated until friction wore away the worst of the imperfections. Watts tested the idea his dream had given him by dripping lead off of the church roof into a bucker of water. It worked, and Watts went on to refine the process so that larger shot could be made without the beading, tearing or stringing. One way he did this was to use lead from Priddy in Somerset which was harder than other other supplies because it contained a higher percentage of arsenic. The extra hardness caused the droplets to form spherical globules.
The Long Drop into Water
Redcliffe Street Shot Tower
from "Dream Lead to Invention" by David Harrison in the "Bristol Times" of Tuesday, 26th November 2002
Watts wasn't a newcomer to lead production. He'd been apprenticed on 27th February, 1765 to Philip and Elizabeth Rose and admitted as a freeman of the City of Bristol on 4th July, 1772. He set up shop in his house at 126 Redcliffe Street, where he was to stay until 1784. In 1775 he started turning his home into a lead shot fall tower. He did this building a tower on his house and by cutting holes through the floors and digging into the sandstone below. He broke through into the mine workings of Redcliffe Caves and kept on digging. In the end, he had a drop of around 90ft. There was obviously little in the way of town planning in those days! He took out his patent, #1347, for the new shot production process on 10th December, 1782, describing the process as "a method of making smallshot solid throughout, perfectly globular in form, and without the dimples, scratches and imperfections which other shot, heretofore manufactured, usually have on their surface."
Although very successful, Watts wasn't without problems. The basement tank got flooded when the River Avon was at full tide, and his neighbours complained about the smell. Watts had quite a bit to say about that...
"William Watts presents his compliments to the gentlemen who united for the purpose of taking legal measures to procure the removal of his smelting and shot-works, and begs leave to ask them, whether it is not as unreasonable, to expect that he should knock down his shot-works, because some people are offended with the smell occasion'd by that particular process, which maybe conducted (with very little additional expence) as well on the heights of Mendip, as on Redcliff-hill. However, to obviate every cause of complaint, as well as to disappoint that malignity which would be gratified by involving him in an expensive suit, William Watts will as soon as possible cause that process, to be discontinued at Redcliff Backs, which alone can furnish the least complaint." (from "Dream Lead to Invention" by David Harrison in the "Bristol Times" of Tuesday, 26th November 2002)
He also complained about his neighbours keeping pigs.
His neighbours' complaints didn't stop him and in December, 1786, he announced that he was about to extend his works by building a new Gothic tower, which, with the old one, was expected to remind a spectator of "the prospect of Westminster Abbey." Looking at images of his tower, that seems to be a bit of an exaggeration.
William Watts' Redcliffe Street Shot Tower
In 1787, Philip George of the George's brewing family paid Watts £10,000 to become a partner, along with Colonel Samuel Worrell. These men were well-known around Bristol which may have kept some of the neighbours quiet. In 1789, they erected a shot tower in London, just to the east of what is now Waterloo Bridge, which cost £6,000 to erect. It wasn't a beautiful building, critics said it "cannot be considered an object ornamental to the river Thames". Charles Dickens described it in "Household Words".
"Household Words" was published between 1850 and 1859. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find which copy contains the description of Watts' London shot tower.
George and Worrell, later in 1817, would be fooled by Mary Baker, better known as Princess Caraboo.
Watt's made a fortune from his process. Around 1790, he went into land speculation and he obtained a lease to build a grand terrace, Windsor Terrace, in Clifton. This terrace was named in honour of King George III, who had admired Watts work. The position he chose, on the edge of Rownham Woods offered superb views across Bristol. The architect for this grand scheme was John Evleigh. Unfortunately, there were two factors against Watts. There was a depression in England due to the Napoleonic Wars, not only that but it was very close to a very steep bank which needed a huge retaining wall and vaulting to secure the building. This extra work caused Watts to become bankrupt and in October, 1792, the building was advertised for sale in an unfinished state. The terrace had to be completed by another speculator, John Drew, who finished it in 1796. Drew went on to to build another fine terrace, the Paragon on the hillside above Windsor Terrace. Meanwhile, Watts was declared bankrupt in February, 1794.
John Dix (September 21, 1811 – after 1863) was a writer, bad poet, worse surgeon and alcoholic. His work appeared in the Bristol Mirror. In 1839, he wrote a collection of poems published as Local legends and Rambling Rhymes, with illustrations by "A. Pen". In that, is this:
Twas morning ;—day began to peep,
And through the shutters' chinks to creep,
When Mrs. Watts awoke from sleep,
And woke her spouse "alsoe!"
Old Redcliff's chimes were going five;—
"Put on your breeches, man alive,"
Quoth Mrs. Watts, "and throw
Your oldest coat upon your back ;"
Here Mrs. Watts bestowed a smack,
To urge her lord to go—
But where ? he rubbed his eyes, and swore
He'd see his breeches burnt, before
He'd rise, and for another snore
Himself did straight prepare!
But Watts's half—a "careful soul,"
Like Mister Gilpin's—spurn'd control;
So without more ado
She threw the quilt and sheet aside,
And something said of "tan&quuot; and "hide ;"
Then promised she would shew
How shot could best be made :—that night
She vow'd, she had beheld the right
And proper way to make them quite
Round, without dent or seam;
Said she, "They must fall from a height,
I saw it in my dream."
"I've had a vision in my sleep."
Now Mr. Watts, from slumber deep
Aroused, asked what she meant?
Upon her elbow she arose;
Then, huddling on her morning clothes,
Her stays omitting, and her hose,
Forth from the room she went.
Her husband followed, with a vague
Idea of a female plague,
And tried in vain to laugh—
As, ghost-like, she, with figure spare,
Before him mounted every stair,
E'en to the garret door, and there
Stopp'd Watts's better half!
"Go, fetch a ladle and some lead,"
Unto her yawning spouse she said;
"Our staircase forms a 'well'
And close beside the bottom stair
A bowl of water place, for there
I mean to work the spell!"
Down from the staircase head she throws
Small drops of lead—on Watts's nose
Fell one, 'twas scalding hot,
The rest into the water cold,
In drops of perfect roundness roll'd,
And Watts, with wonder, did behold
The birth of Patent Shot.
Twas true enough—each common shot
Which Watts had made before, had got
A little pit, or dent, or spot,
Upon its tiny round;
But now the case was altered quite,
For not, e'en by the keenest sight,
In shot which from the staircase height
Had fall'n, could dent be found.
A tower was built for making shot,
It stood on Redcliff Hill;
And, as I'm certain it was not
Remov'd, it stands there still
An old square tower—far, far below
Its base was dug a well,
Which all may see, who wish to know
If truth the muse doth tell.
Still from the summit of that tower,
The molten lead falls, like a shower
Of shining silver rain,
Into the water far below,
Which cools it suddenly, and lo!
Small shot it doth remain.
Mr. Watts very soon a patent got,
So that only himself could make Patent Shot;
And King George and his son declar'd that they'd not
Shoot with any thing else—and they ordered a lot.
The Regent swore that the smallest spot
In a small bird's eye he'd surely dot;
And every sportsman, both sober and sot,
From the peer in his hall, to the hind in his cot,
Vowed that they cared not a single jot,
When the game was strong and the chase was hot,
For any thing else than the Patent Shot.
Mr. Watts's face grew red apace,
That erst was white as milk;
His ruffles were of Mechlin lace,
His waistcoat of shot-silk.
Full soon, by making good round shot,
A pretty roundish sum he got;
At last he left off trade:
His secret, with the right to make
The Patent Shot, and no mistake,
To others was conveyed.
He, who from Rownham Ferry boat
Just upwards casts his eye,
A Terrace, Windsor called, will note,
Between him and the sky.
Bright with the sunshine, can it raise
One thought of melancholy?
Alas ! another name betrays
Its history—"Watts's Folly!"
For Mr. Watts retired from trade,
To build it, resolution made;
And found, to his chagrin,
That cash a great deal faster went
When 'twas on "brick and mortar" spent,
Than ever it came in.
On mere foundations went his all,
And Watt's Folly still we call
That luckless spot of ground.
So ends this legend of the Dream,
In which, as Folly ends my theme,
Sure Folly may be found.
Even more interesting than Dix's tale of the rise and fall of James Watts is the illustration by "A. Pen." Incidentally, in 1832, Dix married Sussanah Moore whose father boiled soap in Bedminster.
The London enterprise was sold for £8,000 but the Bristol operation was expanded. It appears that George and Worrell took over the Bristol premises in September 1794. Philip George took over the shot tower in Redcliffe Street in 1818, then came Christopher George and Patent Shot Company but it was sold in 1848 to James Williams Patent Shot Company, who later sold it in 1868 to Sheldon, Bush and Patent Shot Company. Not much is known about Mssrs. Sheldon and Bush, except that they soon built up a considerable lead dynasty in Bristol. By the 1880s they had a large smelting works at Blackswarth Road, and a sheet and pipe lead works in Cheese Lane.
Sheldon Bush always conducted their business aggressively, if politely, as this letter of 1837 to a debtor proves: "Your conduct to us is most extraordinary, and permit us to say, unbecoming the tradesman or gentleman, and such as could not fail to raise in our minds a very strong feeling of anger against you." (from "Bristol & Co" by Helen Reid - Redcliffe Press, 1987, Page 105)
Nothing of the seven-acre Blackswarth site, on the banks of the Avon, now remains. In 1883, a reporter saw ores from Australia, from New Van Consols in Montgomeryshire, Minera Mines near Wrexham, and Foxdale on the Isle of Man among others, and mentions the pigs, each stamped ‘Blackswarth', stacked in piles of ninety-six, a pile representing about 5 1/2 tons. An important by-product of the lead smelting process was the extraction of silver, some of the ores containing over 1,000 ounces per ton.
About ten times a year the firm cast a ‘silver plate' in which all the silver-rich metal collected over the previous weeks was melted together to produce a single ingot of silver of about 10,000 oz or more. The average value of these was between £2,000 and £3,000. In addition large quantities of lead were recovered in a process by which...
...the underground flue is obliged to disgorge from its subterraneous depths some 50 tons of lead and silver per annum, which has been deposited there by the smoke and draught passing from the furnaces on its way to the chimney-stack. The sulphur and smoke rising from the furnaces travel along an overhead flue about 12 ft in height and thence descend into an underground flue, to the bottom of which the sulphate falls. The underground flue is a huge kind of cavern 7 ft by 6 ft, extending about 1,200 ft before it enters the stack, which rises to a height of 200 ft. Twice a year the flue is entered by means of large man-holes, and on each occasion about 50 tons of flue dust, containing fully 50 per cent of lead is removed. (from "Industrial Archaeology of the Bristol Region" by Angus Buchanan and Neil Cossons - Augustus M Kelley, New York, 1969)
Also in 1883, a journalist was shown around the Redcliffe Street shot works and wrote...
To the manager of the works, Mr. Henry Banwell, we have to tender our sincere thanks for the kind assistance he rendered and the courtesy with which he furnished us with all the information required. In the lower room of the tower on Redcliff-hill are large stores of pig lead, which have been sent from the Blackswarth Smelting Works, at St. George's, each "pig" having been specially prepared for making shot. ‘We should be sorry to wound the susceptibilities of any of our fair readers who may have sympathized with the Princess of Wales in the laudable movement she originated for preventing undue cruelty In the slaughter of tame pigeons, but in chronicling fads we are obliged to state that in the manufacture of shot it is necessary to impregnate the lead with arsenic. This is not done in order to poison as well as shoot the bird, but it is to render the metal more ductile and more ready when melted to take the globular form. The arsenic is added in the proportion of about 451b. to the ton of lead, so that the amount of poison in a single shot is exceedingly minute. Some of the lead was formerly obtained in pigs from the Mendip hills, this in its natural state containing sufficient arsenic to answer the purpose without being mixed. A small quantity still comes from those mines, and also from St. Cuthbert's mines, near Wells. The alloy when mixed is called "temper." The lead is raised by means of a steam crane to the top of the shot tower, and we will follow if there to see the next operation.
On the way up the winding, dingy staircase Mr. Banwell points out certain indications which seem conclusively to prove that the tower was originally carried up on the top of an old house. There are-the remains of an old fireplace, probably at one time in a bedroom, and a sufficient depth was obtained by digging below the level of the cellar. We are told that oven with this the depth is barely sufficient. Most of the shot towers erected in the present day are built 200 feet in height, whereas this is but 112 feet.
On reaching the summit of the tower we enter a moderately sized square apartment, the walls of which are crusted over with a foul greenish deposit a mixture of sulphur and arsenic, the sulphur emanating from the lead in fusion. In the centre of the room is a large melting pan, full of boiling metal, around being pigs of lead and a variety of tools required in the work. Beside the boiler is an open trap door, over which one of the workmen presently places an iron stand. On the top of this is securely fixed what is aptly termed a "colander," some 20 inches in length and about a foot wide, perforated at the bottom with innumerable small holes according to the size of the shot to be manufactured. On the surface of the molten lead and arsenic arises a thick scum, with which the operator has to contend rather deftly, for it is indispensable in making the shot, and it is also undesirable to mix it too freely with the metal. When the lead has attained the required temperature, and the "colander" has been placed in proper position on the frame which covers the trap, the skilled artisan skims off with an iron ladle a quantity of the scum and deposits it in the colander, continuing the~ operation until he has nearly filled it. This acts as a kind of filter, allowing the fluid metal to pass slowly through the small holes at the bottom. But for this arrangement the fluid would run continuous streams instead of falling in drops, and as a matter of course no shot would be made. In their fall of about 112 feet these drops become sufficiently hardened to resist the action of the water in the well beneath, and the great bulk of them are brought out perfectly spherical. While this operation is proceeding, we descend the stairs, and halting at a spot which affords a pretty good light, a startlingly beautiful sight presents itself. The molten lead is falling like a magnificent cataract of sparkling silver, while the sound from beneath, as the myriads of drops fall into the well, somewhat resembles that of a distant fusilade. It is well, however, not to get too close, for fear of accidents, because should the shot happen to be defective it is apt to dropout of the perpendicular, good shot, however, always falls straight.
Before going farther down stairs we learn that both hard and soft shot of every size are made at these works. The hard shot is much more penetrating than the soft, and is coming into more general use. In the tower are landings for three separate falls. The larger the shot the higher must be the elevation from which it has to fall into the well, and vice versa.
Descending to the well, which contains about 6ft. of water, Mr. Banwell points out a curious looking recess, in which formerly a boy was stationed at the commencement of every charge. After a given quantity of shot had fallen his duty was to take a sample from the well in order to ascertain if the "temper" was all right, and the work proceeding correctly. At the present time this is done with a ladle, which has a handle about 30ft. in length. When the liquid metal is all discharged through the colander the water is pumped out of the well, and the shot is put into small wagons, in which it is conveyed along a tramway to the store. The shot is now perfectly green, and the larger sizes look exactly like so many green peas. After drying it is taken to what is called a "hopper ‘~ a machine that separates the perfect from the imperfect shot with surprising rapidity and exactness, and yet in the simplest manner imaginable. The surface of the "hopper" consists of a slanting shelf, in front of which are two receptacles, one a little farther away than the other, for catching the shot. A shovelful is thrown on the board, and of course those that are perfectly round come rolling down quickly, leaping over the first receptacle into that farthest away; while those whose sides are in the least degree flattened come hopping down irregularly, and fail into the nearest receptacle. The best ones are tested a second, and frequently a third time. The imperfect shot is melted down again and recast.
The next process is that of polishing the shot. For this purpose it is put into a cylinder or drum containing a quantity of plumbago. The cylinder is driven by steam, and in a very short time the green shot emerges with a beautiful polish.
Those who are in the habit of carrying a gun know how essential it is to good sport that the shot shall be even as regards size. The "colanders" of different sizes perform their functions with tolerable accuracy, but the firm do not trust to them entirely. They use a sizing machine, which is somewhat similar to the machines used in flour mills. It is a perforated zinc cylinder, at one end of which the apertures are small enough to allow the finest shot to pass through, but increasing in size all time way along until time largest size is passed. As the shot passes through the sieve it falls into a sort of box. It is again carefully examined, and is now ready for passing into the store room on its way to the market. Most of the shot used for home consumption is packed in bags of 141b. or 281b., but foreign orders are mostly sent in casks or kegs. The firm make their own bags.
In addition to the patent shot, the firm manufacture a large quantity of bullets, and a lot of what has recently received the name in Ireland of "Forster's buckshot." Most of these are made by a machine which, with only one attendant, will turnout 1,615 per minute, or 96,900 per hour.
Some few bullets are still made in the old-fashioned mould, but not a great many. The moulds are of various sizes, and most of them are double, that is, the lead can be poured into both sides. When the bullets come out they are all connected by the cakes of lead, and have to be chopped asunder and rounded off by hand. Those made by machinery are by far the best.
The above was reproduced from "Work in Bristol" (Bristol Times & Mirror, 1883) - This is book prepared from a series of articles that appeared in the Bristol Times & Mirror. A chapter of which is devoted to Messrs Sheldon, Bush & Patent Shot Co. By the time the reporter wrote the article the lead mines of Mendip were already in decline. Plumbago is a type of shrub, it is also called Blue Jasmine or Leadwort. A search on Google says it's called this because of its lead coloured roots, it can grow in lead rich soil or because it was once used as a natural remedy to cure some diseases of the eye - a substitute for solution of lead (alcoholic solution of lead acetate).
In October 2013, an email from Chris McBrien said that his great aunt was Henrietta Caroline McBrien who lived with her husband William Charles Moxham at 10, Churchlands Road, Bristol. William's occupation is listed as a labourer at lead smelter. Henrietta died in 1912. If anyone has any information about the family we'd like to hear from you. My email address is near the bottom of the page.
In April 2005, I got an email from Denise Bakewell who writes, "My Father was born in 1919 at the Bristol Shot Tower and lived there with his parents and siblings until my Grandfather died in around 1945 My Grand Fathers name was Edward Dowling there is a photograph of him in the Bristol history books working at the tower in January 1940. We think that his wife was the Grand Daughter of William Watts the inventor of the lead shot." If anyone has any information about the family we'd like to hear from you. My email address is near the bottom of the page.
There was a proposal by the former City Architect, Mr. Nelson Meredith, for the unique shot tower to be left on an island site and reached by a subway, unfortunately this wasn't approved and Watts original tower was demolished in December 1968, to make way for a road improvement scheme. A loss to the city's history that many regret but a survey in 1968 showed the building had reached the end of its life. It was not only the first shot tower in the world but one of the earliest surviving structures built of brick in Bristol. By the time Watts' tower was demolished, Sheldon Bush had built a new 140 feet tall reinforced concrete shot tower in Tower Lane.
The process had hardly changed from 1883, or even the 1780's, when this was written in 1969 of the new shot tower in Cheese Lane...
Pigs of lead are winched to the top of the tower and melted in a gas-fired cauldron to a temperature of about 400° C. Originally melting was by coal. Trucks on a small tramway transfer the shot to factory premises behind the tower where it is finished. This involves elimination of the shot containing ‘flats' or other imperfections by rolling them down gently graded plate-glass steps; only spherical ones reach the bottom, the rejects fall between the steps and are returned to the melting pot. Accurate grading for size is done in perforated screening drums and the shot is finally polished by tumbling, and packed in sacks or cartons. (from "Industrial Archaeology of the Bristol Region" by Angus Buchanan and Neil Cossons - Augustus M Kelley, New York, 1969)
Sheldon, Bush & Patent Shot Co sold shot all over the world, for cartridges, fishermen, screening nuclear fuel rods in atomic power stations, use in the manufacture of high-grade alloy steel, and many other purposes. The smallest, known as ‘dust shot', is of 1/32 in diameter and required a fall of 50 ft, while the largest, grade BB, has a diameter of 5/32 in and required a 150 ft. drop.
Sheldon Bush Cheese Lane Shot Tower
In January 2015, Darren Wilkieson sent me his grandfather's September 11, 1866 quote from Sheldon Bush for Laxey Silver Lead addressed to William Breakwell? of Douglas, Isle of Man.
Dear Sir, our offer for Laxey Silver Lead ore as per sample is £20-10-0 per ton of 20 full?, dry weight.
The mine at Laxey on the Isle of Man were in operation from the 13th century until eventually closed in 1929. The mine employed over 600 miners at its peak, producing lead, copper, silver and zinc ore
Sheldon Bush closed, the last lead manufacturer in Bristol, in 1995, but the tower, a Grade II listed building and one of only three shot towers left in the country, is still there. Developers want to pull the tower town for redevelopment but in 1993, a poll of Bristol Evening Post readers found that 86% of them want the tower to stay. Being a Grade II it is protected and not even the mobile telephone companies are not allowed to put their masts on top of it. In the summer of 2000 the tower is still for sale. Suggested uses for it include a very exclusive office or apartment. The room at the top is 12 sided, around 18 feet across and has a panoramic 360 degree view but as the old lead lift is now ruined the only way to reach it is by climbing the 155 steps in 14 flights. The 1st April 1998, edition of the Bristol Evening Post suggested that it was to be made into a white knuckle ride with a vertical drop of 120 feet!!
This wonderful composite sketch of the Watt and Sheldon Bush shot towers was sent to me in January 2013 by Julian Lea-Jones. He and the Temple Local History Group retain the copyright to it and it is used here with permission.
The Bristol Shot Towers
Watts and later Sheldon Bush weren't the only lead workers in Bristol. In the 1880's Rowe Brothers built a lead rolling mill in Canon's Marsh. Falling into disuse in the 1990's the building was used as an arts exhibition centre. The building was given Grade II listed status and during the harbourside regeneration scheme of the late 1990's it was incorporated into the @ Bristol project where it became offices and the Firehouse Rotisserie.
Rowe's City Leadworks
1902 Ordnance Survey Map
Rowe's Leadworks in the @ Bristol complex
Image by Sara Ralha
Attempted Murder of Lead Buyer
This is nothing to do with lead working in Bristol as such, but an interesting story nontheless.
In February 2017, I got an email from Fred Hillberg saying that:
My Great, Great Grandfather was William Miller Mackreth, he was an Associate of Christopher George in Bristol. He was in Ludlow, Shropshire. purchasing lead from the local lead mines and was staying at the Angel Coaching Inn. Whilst staying there, an individual by the name of Josiah Misters who was also staying there and had been keeping an eye on another traveller called Mr. Ludlow! Apparently he was a Cattle Dealer who was known to carry a lot of cash for his purchases. Misters planned to rob him, and discovered which room he was sleeping in.
Unfortunately for Mackreth he had the wrong information and ended up in his room, hiding under the bed. Mackreth was given a candle by the maid and retired for the night. He awoke feeling pain across his face, struggled out of bed, and smashed a window calling for help - he then managed to get out of the bedroom and raised help that way.
Luckily a Surgeon was staying at the Hotel and assisted and he later went to a local infirmary. The Constables were called and an investigation took place. They found a cut throat razor in the Bakers Yard next door (still there today) and found a matching set in Misters' home in Birmingham. There were other clues in Misters room, including bloodstains on a shirt which he had tried to clean with Borax Powder.
My great, great, grandfather survived because the razor had missed his throat and instead cut him through his mouth, and though unable to speak initially he was able to write down what has happen as initially they though he has tried to commit suicide. Misters was tried in Shrewsbury, found guilty and was the last man in England to be hung for "Attempted Murder." My great, great, Grandfather lived until he was 52 and is buried in Arnos Vale Cemetery, Brislington, Bristol. My brother and I uncovered his grave last year.
In January 2019, Fred also very kindly sent me an image of William Miller Mackreth
William Miller Mackreth
The image was an artist impression made during the trial
This image is from a newspaper article of the trial
The trial took place in 1841 and the details of that can be found in The Annual Register, courtesy of Google Books. I have extracted the article from that and it is available as a separate PDF.
Is seems that Mackreth had only been married to Jane Bright for a short while. According to the local parish registers, they both lived in Portland Square, St. Pauls, Bristol and were married on October 29,1840. Genealogical records show they had a son, William Henry Mackreth who was christened in 1841. Again, according to the parish registers, they had a daughter, Ellen Caroline Mackreth, who was christened on November 12, 1845. Another son, Alfred John Mackreth, was christened in 1850.
According to the London Gazette of April 16, 1852, William Miller Mackreth was working for the James Williams and Patent Shot Company. The London Gazette of July 15, 1859, says that Mackreth was himself a Patent Shot Manufacturer.
Fred Hillberg outside the Angel Inn, Ludlow in 2017
"Annals of Bristol in the Eighteenth Century" by John Latimer (1893)
"Bristol & Co" by Helen Reid (Redcliffe Press, 1987)
"Bristol – A People's History" by Peter Aughton (Carnegie Publishing, 2000)
"Bristol as it was 1937 - 1939" by Reece Winstone (1987)
"Bristol as it was 1953 – 1956" by Reece Winstone (1969)
"Bristol as it was 1956 – 1959" by Reece Winstone (1986)
"Bristol in the 1940's" by Reece Winstone (1970)
Bristol Industrial Archaeological Society - BIAS JOURNAL No 2 1969, Redcliff Shot Tower by John Mosse
"Bristol Past and Present - Volume 1 - Civil History" by J. F. Nicholls and John Taylor (Arrowsmith, 1881)
"Bristol Times" published with the Bristol Evening Post of Tuesday, 26th November 2002. "Dream lead to invention" by David Harrison
"Changes in the Face of Bristol" by Reece Winstone (1987)
Digitised: Communities Online
Efstathios - An Awkward Thing: Bristol's Lead Shot Tower
"Industrial Archaeology of the Bristol Region" by Angus Buchanan and Neil Cossons (Augustus M Kelley, New York, 1969)
Local legends and Rambling Rhymes by John Dix. Davey, Bristol, 1839
"Work in Bristol" (Bristol Times & Mirror, 1883) - This book was prepared from a series of articles that appeared in the Bristol Times & Mirror. A chapter of which is devoted to Messrs Sheldon, Bush & Patent Shot Co. Many thanks to Andy King, Curator of Industrial & Maritime History, Bristol Industrial Museum, Bristol for emailing me images of portions of the book.
Wikipedia - Redcliffe Shot Tower
Information Wanted :-
I'd like information on the following...
Anything about lead working in Bristol.
The article that appears in Dickens' "Household Words" about Watt's London shot tower.
I'd like to purchase a copy of "Work in Bristol" (Bristol Times & Mirror, 1883)
If you can help me with any of the above, then please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
This page created February 21, 2005; last modified May 21, 2022