This issue –

The story of
Voneche

as told by

Ann Chevalier

The newsletter of the

Glass Association
Registered as a Charity No. 326602

Chairman:

Anthony Waugh

Hon. Secretary:
Roger Dodsworth

Editor:

Dr. Patricia Baker

Address for Glass Cone correspondence:
3 Winton Road, Farnham,

Surrey, GU9 9QW, England

Address for membership enquiries, etc.:
Broadfields House Glass Museum,

Barnett Lane, Kingswinford,

West Midlands DY6 9QA

Tel: 0384 273011

ISSN 0265 9654
Printed by Jones
&
Palmer Ltd, Birmingham

Cover Illustration:
Louis Leloup, one of Belgium’s
foremost contemporary studio glass-

makers in action for members of the
Glass Association during their Liege
visit in July 1991 (see article on

Voneche glass, opposite). Photo:

Alex Werner.

Farewell and many thanks…

In the last issue of the Glass Cone,

sent out May this year, Charles
Hajdamach announced his
resignation from the editorship of

the Glass Cone. All of us have
reason to thank Charles for he is

one of the eleven founder members

of the Glass Association and without

their energy and enthusiasm to ‘get

the show on the road’ over the past

ten years, the association would not
be in its present healthy state, and

certainly it would not have benefited

from the generous support of

Dudley Council, both now and then.
Over five hundred members now
enjoy the various and varied

meetings, talks, visits and outings
up and down the country. We have

a biennial Journal which, thanks to

Ian Wolfenden’s keen editorial eye,
has reserved itself a permanent

place on academic bookshelves
among other scholarly glass

periodicals. Recently John Brooks
has created a regular quarterly

newsletter full of interest; it is

proving so successful in eliciting

contributions from Glass

Association members that the
Committee is advising John to keep

down each issue to 8 pages.
So as Charles takes off the green
eye-shade, puts away the blue

pencil, empties the desk-drawers
and pushes back the editorial chair,

our grateful thanks… and when can

we all expect an article from him for
the Cone?

…and Hello

It will take me some time to adjust to

this new responsibility — to begin

with, the height of the editorial chair
needs changing, and I must find

where Charles has put the pencil-

sharpener.

As you read in July’s Newsletter, it is
hoped to publish the Glass Cone

twice a year, in April and
September, but to achieve this, we
are looking to members of the

Association to provide us with

material. Feature articles and
notices up to 1,000 words in length,
preferably with one or more black

and white prints or colour

transparencies will be welcomed.

All contributions over 750 words
and accompanying photographs

will be acknowledged by post, as

soon as possible after receipt;
illustrations will of course be
returned when received from the

printers after publication. Deadlines
for copy are detailed in the box

below. I look forward to hearing
from you.

A Special Apology

As the cover illustration of this issue
reminds us, the first overseas

seminar weekend of the Glass
Association took place in mid-July

1991 (Ian Turner’s report in the
Cone no. 30). Those of us lucky

enough to take part in that
memorable Liege trip realised very
quickly on our arrival that Mme Ann

Chevalier of the Musee du Verre

was totally committed to make our

visit a great success. Nothing was
too much trouble for her.

After some pressure, she kindly
agreed to send a summary of her

talk for publication in the Cone, but
for various reasons at our end, there

has been a long delay in printing.

We can only hope she will accept
our deepest apologies for this.

Caveat Emptor

Given the surprising frequency that

allegedly antique commemorative

glasses appear on the market,
collectors have good reason to

suspect the genuineness of them all.

When discussing the history of
glass-making at his home

Wordsley Hall, I can recall Benjamin
Richardson, then head of Henry G.

Richardson & Sons, telling me that

his firm once received a goblet with
an engraved motif and legend

indicating a Nelson commemorative

from a dealer. With it was his order

for a hundred or so copies to be
made. A note added the engraving

on the copies did not have to be

perfect, nor cleaned and polished

before dispatch.

Avid readers of the Glass Cone will

remember that in issue no. 18
(Summer 1988), I wrote about the

engraved glasses of antique design

made by Charles D. Stanier, the
glass-making instructor at

Stourbridge College of Art; he had

been one of Stuart & Sons’ most

skilful makers, whose photograph appears extensively in the firm’s

publicity material. Also at the School
was William Barnett Webb, the

engraving instructor from 1935,

who had previously worked for

Webb & Corbett, Amblecote and
L. and S. Hingley of Albert
Glassworks, Wordsley.

I mention this because recently I
came across a piece in the
County

Express
(Stourbridge) of

15 October 1949, regarding the

appointment of an ex-Stourbridge

student, William Frank Siviter, as

assistant to Stanier at the School.

The report added that in the serious

fire at the Art school on 26 July that

year, the fine collection of glasses
made by the instructors had been

destroyed, probably the result of

over-enthusiastic firemen. Only one
piece had not been made by

Charles Stanier, but by Siviter

decorated with an engraving
copied from a Battle of the Boyne

commemorative, by Webb.

That was one ‘antique’ that got

away. So, collectors, you have been

warned. Still any engraving by

W. G. Webb is well worth
treasuring in its own right.

H. Jack Haden

The opinions expressed in the
Glass Cone are those of the

writers. The editor’s aim is to

provide a range of interests and
ideas, not necessarily ones
which mirror her own. Her

decision is final.

COPY DATES

Spring 1994
February 19

Autumn 1994

July 16

1/’

Voneche

Verrerie imperiale et royale
Fruit urn,
Voneche. U. B.
Collection,
Voneche).

On 12 July 1991, Mme Ann Chevalier

of Liege gave a paper to members of
the Glass Association, and has since

kindly given us permission to publish

an English translation. However,

nothing can convey the wit and
humour of Mme Chevalier’s delivery

on that occasion. In translation and

editing, there is always a possibility

of an emphasis misplaced, a

meaning misconstrued; we

apologise if this has occurred here

but we wished to delay its
publication no longer.

In 1819 Mme Desamaud, manager

of L’Escalier de Crystal (The Crystal
Staircase) factory in Paris exhibited

a wonderful crystal and bronze
‘coiffeuse’ during the Exhibition of

the Products of Industry in the

capital.
It is thought this beautiful ensemble

of dressing-table and chair was
purchased by the Empress Marie-

Louise, or Marie-Louise Queen of
Spain, or more probably the

Duchess of Berry. Whoever the

buyer was, it was recorded by

Nicholas-Henri Jacob (1782-1871),

one of David’s pupils, and these

drawings are now held in the
Louvre collection classified as

“Cristallerie de Voneche”.
Until recently, hardly anything was
known about this Voneche glass

factory but the attention of the

Belgian public was awoken in 1985

with two exhibitions: “Verreries et
cristalleries Namouroises du XVIIIe

siècle a nos jours” and “L’Art verrier
en Wallonie de 1802 a nos jours”.

Voneche is a small village in the
province of Namur near the French

border. And this was where at the
end of the eighteenth century,

attracted by the good roads, sand

deposits and abundant forests in the
locale (so necessary for feeding the

furnaces), that Pierre-Nicolas

Mathys decided to build a glass-

works. On 14 August 1778 the
queen Marie-Therese gave

authorisation for the glass furnaces

to be built, and granted the title

‘errerie imperiale et royale” to the
works, although later it came to be
more generally known as “Verrerie

Sainte-Anne”. At first the factory
flourished but a series of bad
managers meant it quickly ran to

seed. It became known for the

coarseness of its glass, a result of

using too much potash in the batch.

A reputation saved

A young Parisian chemist, Rime-
Gabriel d’Artigues, came to the

rescue. In 1790, When in charge of

the Royal St. Louis-les-Bitche glass-

works in Alsace, he had discovered
the process of producing red lead
and so revolutionised French glass

production; before this, red lead
had had to be imported from

England. In 1802 A-G. d’Artigues

bought the Voneche glass-works

and transformed it into a crystal
glass-making factory, and

eventually into the most important

establishment of its kind during the

period of the French Empire. He

progressively cut back the
production of window glass and

tableware at Voneche, and

concentrated on glass crystal work,

personally overseeing the

preparation of batch from the raw
materials. Assisted by glass-makers

from the region of Alsace-Lorraine,

he was soon the largest
manufacturer of crystal glass in

France because his costs were
more than fifty per cent lower than

his competitors’.

Declining Years
Public recognition came quickly but

success was to last barely thirty

years. D’Artigues chose two
talented men to work alongside

him: Francois Kemlin and Auguste

Lelievre. Their collaboration bore
fruit; Vol


Ache was awarded a silver

medal at the 1806 Paris Exhibition of
Products of French Industry. By
1815, the Voneche glass-works was

employing five hundred workers,

with Kemlin as its Deputy Director.
The range was expanded to include

mould-blown pieces alongside the

cut crystal, and around 1818,
ceramic ‘sulphide’ portrait

incrustations, often representing the
French imperial family, were

incorporated on certain items.
Enamel painting was also
produced.

However, the political upheaval
caused by the fall of the First Empire

resulted in more than a fall in

production. To accommodate the

new kingdom of the Netherlands,

territorial frontiers were redrawn

Lyre Clock with

ormolu fittings,
in the First

Empire style,

c.1815. (ATIC
Collection,
Musee de

Groesbeeck-de
Croix, Namur).

Sweetmeat dish
with cover, first
quarter of the
19th century.

Voneche cut
decoration

resembled

contemporary

work across the

Channel, due in

part to english
cutters

employed in the
Cappelmans

workshop,
Brussels.

(Musee du

Verre, Liege).
with the result that Voneche was no

longer French. An agreement with

Louis XVIII allowed Voneche to

trade in France, on the
understanding that d’Artigues

would produce crystal on French

soil. To this end d’Artigues bought

the Sainte-Anne factory, renaming it
“Voneche factory in Baccarat”; at

this stage Baccarat was merely a

subsidary company of Voneche.

The working arrangement between
himself, Kemlin and Lelievre did not

survive. Kemlin and Lelievre
established a glass-works called

Val Saint-Lambert on the site of an

old Cistercian monastery in 1826.

The Revolution of 1830 marked the
end of the Voneche factory itself

The workers and equipment went
over to Louis Zoude’s glass factory
in Namur, to the new Val Saint-

Lambert works or to the French
company.

As for d’Artigues, he retired to his
mansion built in beautiful landscape

near the glass-works until 1844

when he sold up to Count Felix
Cornet Ways-Ruart. A year earlier,

the name Voneche had been
dropped by the Baccarat works. He

left for Paris where he died seven

years later, the author of several

works on a wide variety of subjects

(storage of corn; fresh-water pearls;

flint-glass for optics, etc.) as well the

founder of the crystal-glass industry

in France and Belgium.

Unanswered Questions
Given that we owe the production of

crystal glass to Ravenscroft’s work

in 1673, and that Franco-Belgian
production was the brain child of

A-G. d’Artigues, there are several
unanswered points.

Is it possible to identify Voneche
glass of the early period? Are there

special features which enable us to

distinguish between d’Artigues’s
products from the St. Louis glass-

works, his early Voneche designs,
and the first work made at the

Baccarat, Zoude and Val Saint-

Lambert? Are there any archival

sources to help us?

First, there is no doubt that glass-
cutting was undertaken nearby at

the Tanton cutting -shop and thanks

to a Voneche factory note-book, we

have information regarding the
patterns. Apart from the Louvre

illustrations by Jacob, these

drawings made by H. Ponthiere,

together with a price-list, were until
recently the only listed archival
sources. Both are now in the

Corning Museum of Glass

collection. We also know that some

cutting was done at Jean-Baptiste
Capplemans’s factory in Brussels,

which employed English cutters,
and in Paris at the Dersarnaud-

Charpentier works (L’Escalier de

Cristal). Desarnaud was the first

factory to produce crystal pieces in
association with bronze and ormolu,

as exhibited in 1819.

However, it has been my good

fortune to obtain correspondence

between M. Lelievre’s grandson
and Baron de Dorlodot. I have yet to

publish these but have the pleasure

in revealing just three new pieces of

information to you.
From these letters, it is now clear

that Kemlin and Lelievre left

Voneche because d’Artigues had
foolishly fallen in love with a
barmaid and appointed her as the

factory director, causing many
employees to resign.

Secondly, they reveal that

d’Artigues entered a contract with

Regout of Maastricht regarding
glass-cutting.

And lastly, that Voneche glass was
exported to Germany and Russia,

so there is a possibility of previously

unidentified pieces coming to light

in these countries.

As for distinguishing the early glass

of the various factories concerned,
in 1939 Lelievre’s grandson wrote

“to my knowledge, Voneche,

Baccarat, St. Louis and Val Saint-

Lambert in the beginning did not

put a factory-mark on their crystal”
and commented that it was “actually

very difficult” to identify the
individual factory production

ranges.

I find Lelievre’s attitude
disappointing and hope with your

help to modify this assessment. Do

you possess any genuine marked

Voneche glass in your collection, or
do you know of any pieces as yet

unrecorded? Such items could hold

important clues in the Voneche

story.

Ann Chevalier
Conservateur,

Musees d’Archeologie

et d’Arts decoratifs, Liege

Is the Engraving Familiar?

In the summer of 1992 I acquired

the single-handled jelly glass
illustrated opposite. Although it has
two minor chips on the foot rim, I

was attracted to it not only because
it was a handled glass, but also the

stylised engraving rang a bell the
minute I picked it up.

Sure enough, after a quick look

through my library, I found

illustrated in Thorpe’s
English Glass

(1935, plate XIX (b) facing p.192), a

sweetmeat and jelly suite now in the
Laing Art Gallery, Newcastle upon
Tyne, and realised that the

distinctive trellis border (a sort of
embellished Vesica pattern), the

flowers and foliage engraved on the
bowl,
and
it would seem, the

engraving on the underside of the

foot of my handled jelly, are

remarkably similar to those on the

Laing glasses; one piece is shown
here opposite. However, at 11.5 cm
my glass is somewhat taller than the

Laing jelly glasses.
The Laing set, consisting of a

stemmed tazza, a master

sweetmeat glass and eight jellies,
came into the collection in 1927 in a

bequest from John Crawford
Hodgson FSA, having formerly
been in the Hauxley collection.

Unfortunately, all but three of the
jellies were accidentally broken by

scaffolding constructors in the
course of work on the gallery in
1950. It dates from about 1745 to

1755; the engraving, possibly the

work of Jerome Johnson or a
London-Bohemian craftsman,

appears contemporary although it

has been suggested it is slightly later
in date. Over the past months I have
been in correspondence with
experts about my glass, notably Mr.

Nick Dolan, Mr. Tim Udall and Mr.

Simon Cottle. While they have
expressed great interest in the glass

and confirm the close resemblance

to the Laing set, they have some

doubts as to whether it originally

belonged to this suite.

Does any other Glass Association

member know of any more glasses
(sweetmeats, jellies or even perhaps

wines or goblets) with this particular
design engraved upon them? If so,

were perhaps such glasses part of a
large suite of glasses made to order?

Any answers or comments through
the Editor, please.
Roy Kingsbury
A piece from the

Laing

sweetmeat and

jelly suite (by
kind permission
of the Laing Art

gallery,
Newcastle upon
Tyne).

The single-

handled jelly

glass (Roy
Kingsbury;

photo. by Mike

McEnnemey,

Wimbome

Minster).

Five pens from
the Mike

Hughes

collection. The
two shown here
with anchor
finials have the

characteristic
turquoise glass

associated with
the Wordsley
firm of

Richardsons.

Wanted

Information
on Glass Dip

Pens
Glass Association member Mike

Hughes would welcome information
about glass dip pens. They come in

many different guises, some made
in three parts: glass spiral nib, stem

holder and finial. Other examples

have glass nibs with hollow tube

holders with advertisements inside.

The ornamental finial may take the

form of a bird but Mike Hughes, in
his collection of over 45 items, also

has pens with anchors, serpents,

various animals and crowns in all
different shapes, sizes and colours.

He wonders if he is correct in
assuming the glass nib allowed the

writer to exert more pressure than
possible with a regular steel; was it

then used for carbon copying?

Any answers or comments through
theEditor, please.

Cottage glass

with furnace
decoration

(John Franks).
In the absence of a trademark or

signature, classifying and dating of
glass to a glass-works or maker are

problematic, especially when

dealing with the decorative
coloured glass of the ‘Victorian’
period, when British glass-houses,

set free from the restraints of Excise
Duty, flourished and diversified

production. However, it is often

possible to recognise a style, the
use of a particular mould and type

of decoration, so the collector has

the opportunity to try to assemble a
representative collection of an

individual glass-house, or of a

decorative type — for example,

slag glass, cloud glass and carnival

glass.

Some cased glass forms a

distinctive grouping but it has never
been the subject of serious study,

left as it were, at the back of shelves

and displays at antique fairs. It does

not seem to have been the subject
Cottage Glass

of any specialist exhibition other

than in 1986 at Church Farm House

Museum, London, when the writer’s
collection was on show for six

months. Bought and sold under a

variety of names which sum up its

curious appearance — ‘Splatter’,
‘Spatter’, ‘End of Day’, ‘Splashed’,

even ‘Friggers’, — this type of late
19th century glassware was

produced by a number of
companies for many years.

It takes the form of cased or overlay
glass, blown in the English tradition,

so identifiably different from the
American ‘Splatter’ glass made by

Northwood (cf. William Heacock
Harry Northwood: the Early Years
1881-1900).
Typically this group has

an inner case of opal, then a pattern

layer of coloured glass, and a final
colourless, transparent crystal

casing. Most pieces have faults,

which suggests that it was
experimental, practice or

apprentice work. It seems to have
been made, not for the great

mansions or middle-class houses,

but for workers’ cottages, be they
‘tunnel backs’, ‘bothys’ or whatever
local variation, and sold at wakes,

fairs or in public houses.
‘Cottage’ glass, if we may call it that,

often fulfilled a useful purpose as

baskets, vases, tobacco jars,
candlesticks, or jugs sometimes

with basins, oil lamps and carafes

with matching glass. Or they may

be purely whimsical, decorative

ornaments.

By comparing shapes, handle

forms, colour combinations and

decoration, a picture builds up

which suggests Stourbridge
manufacture, but no one glass-

works. The patterning of the pink
and white basket shown here

corresponds to that on a rib mould

jug attributed to Stevens & Williams
(no. 103 Cyril Manley
Decorative

Victorian Glass);
other items came

from that mould, sometimes

incorporating the claw handle.
Some pieces have silver flecks in

the spatter decoration, and their
shape suggests the use of Webb
moulds. Again, others have furnace-

wrought decorative details, as
illustrated below.

The colour pattern over the inner
opal layer may be a candy stripe,

‘peacock eyes’, or ‘spatter’. Over

time, the number of colours used

increased and the ‘spatter’ has a
finer distribution. Some moulded
‘spatter’ pieces have no additional

decoration, and this may well
indicate later commercial mass-

production. Occasionally pairs of
large vases can be found with gold
or enamel applied decoration.

Except for some mould-blown
items, there is usually a good pontil
mark, which in a number of

examples has been ground down.

These black and white photographs

cannot convey the exuberant

colouring of these glasses, nor the

rich variety of forms one can find.

Some imitate Classical shapes,

while others reflect the impact of Art
Nouveau, or show the Victorian

Gothic taste for over-working. They

may lack the simplicity preferred
by the modern eye but for a

collector, they can be fun.
John Franks
Pink and white

glass basket,
(John Franks)
.

A Walk in the Forest

During a recent holiday in Central
Europe, by chance Jill Turnbull came

across two German glass museums,
which will be of interest to others

considering travelling in the area.

While visiting Weimar, in former
East Germany, we were shown a

magazine article describing a glass

museum in the village of Lauscha in

the Thuringia Wald. Close to
another centre of glassmaking,

Neuhaus, and not far from Coburg,

Lauscha is an important area of

traditional forest glass-making,
relatively little changed by

‘westernisation’.

Glass has been made in Lauscha

since 1597. The local factory is still

in production, and lampworking
continues to give employment in the

village. The museum collection
dates back to an exhibition mounted
by the community in 1897 to

celebrate 300 years of glassmaking,

but it has since been expanded to
cover Thuringian glass in general.

Most of the exhibits were made in

the 19th and 20th centuries, but

there are examples of 17th century

glasses, 18th century Hampen,
rummers, engraved presentation

pieces and enamelled work. The
process of lampworking was

introduced in the second half of the
18th century, and the museum

display includes a range of work,
beads and artificial pearls,
Christmas decorations and other

ornaments, animals and vessels.

Photographs show whole families

working at home on different
aspects of glassworlcing, and

women setting off to market

carrying huge packs of glass

baubles on their backs. There is
also a small diarama displaying the

process of blowing and pulling

glass rods for use in lampwork.

Rods are still pulled by hand in the

Lauscha factory and visitors may
see this being done any working-

day morning.
Many of the museum objects are

unsophisticated in design and

sometimes in execution, but this

small museum reflects very nearly

four hundred years of continuous
glass-making in the village

community. And the current
illustrated catalogue (in English) is

in itself a historical record of former

political times with its references to

the exploitation of the workers by
“the capitalist sales agent system”!

Much more sophisticated glass was
dazzingly displayed at the Passauer

Glasmuseum, situated in the Wilden

Mann building, in the, old quarter of

Passau, near the Austrian border.
Case after case of decorative glass

is on display, covering the period

1730 to 1930. While there are

examples of 18th century

enamelled wares and 19th century

revivals, engraved and cased glass,

the main emphasis is on Art
Nouveau work. There is an
enormous, comprehensive range of

glass from the Bohemian factory of

Johann Loetz Witwe of
Klostermuhle. Many are Jugenstil

wares from 1898 onwards,
including irridescent ‘Phanomen’

and ‘Papillon’ effects and imitation of

semi-precious stones. Also on show

are designs for the firm by Maria

Kirschner from 1900 to 1915, and

work of the designer Michael

Powolny for J & L Lobmeyr, and of

Koloman Moser, Josef Hoffman and

Hans Bolek.
Both Lauscha and Passau are well

worth a visit; Passau is certainly a

‘must’ for the any Art Nouveau

enthusiast. And good news,

photography is permitted in both
museums.
Jill Turnbull

Jobs for the Boys (and Girls)

The Birmingham Glass Trade in 1913

An interesting insight into the
working conditions of the

Birmingham glass-making factories

in 1913 is contained in a pamphlet

published by the Central Care

Committee of the Birmingham

Education Authority that year, for

the Juvenile Employment Exchange.

At that time, the young person was
informed, it was customary to work

in a team of four, although this was

increased to six or seven in the

production of fancy coloured glass.

The ‘foot-maker’ (also known as the

‘foot-blower’ or ‘gatherer’)

gathered the glass, shaped it on the

marver and then handed it to the
‘servitor’ for blowing. The finishing

touches, adding the stem, foot and

any furnace decoration, were the

task of the ‘workman’ or ‘maker’,

and the last man on the team, the
‘taker-in’ carried the finished work

on a forked stick to the trays of the
annealing chamber, hand-cranking

the line of trays along.
This was at this level the young boy
entered the glass-house. He

worked as a ‘taker-in’ for two or
three years during which time he

also had opportunities to practise
‘gathering’ and to learn blowing. If

he showed any skill, he graduated

to helping the ‘workman’ by

gathering glass on the punty iron for

the stem or foot and was eventually
set `to make foot’.

As a rule boys advanced to become

`foot-makers’ between the ages of

16 and 18, but the National Flint

Glass Makers Society (the trade

union) had a say in both the
engagement of boys, and their
promotion. It allowed one boy to

each chair and no boy could be
advanced to ‘foot-maker’ as long as

there was a suitable ‘foot-maker’ on

the trade list of unemployed; this
also applied to progress into the
other grades so advancement was a

slow business.

Hours and Wages
The pamphlet stated that usually

glassworks worked alternate six-

hour shifts, the first starting at 6 am

on Monday. They normally did eight

‘turns’ in a week; the maximum

agreed by the union was nine and

the minimum, five ‘turns’ and a

‘move’ (half a shift), that is 33 hours.

However, at this time (1913) one

firm had introduced 12-hour shift

working
“in order to make the hours

more convenient for boys”

[emphasis added].

The wages of the boys on first

entering a glass-house varied.

Some firms paid one shilling (5p) a

‘turn’ and a weekly shilling bonus,

making a maximum of 10/- for nine

‘turns’ with a further 3d per ‘turn’

paid after the first month. Other

companies paid by the week, the

boys starting at 6/- to
7/-
(30 or 35p)

rising to 11/3d (56p) after which

they were paid accordingly to

ability by the ‘turn’.

The weekly (of 8 ‘turns’) rates were

as follows:

Foot-makers: £1.5.4d to £1.17.4d

(£1.26p to £1.66p); Servitors: £2 to

£2.8.0 (£2.40p); Workmen: £2.8.0.

to £3.2.0 (£3.10p); Mixers were paid
by the day up to 28/- to 33/- (£1.40

to £1.65p). Girls who worked in the

warehouses were ordinarily paid a

starting wage of 4/6 to 5/- for a 52-
hour week, rising to 8/6d to 11/6d

maximum. Apart from Bank

Holidays there were no recognised

holidays.

Adverse criticism
The leaflet states that the glass-
making trade was scheduled as

being dangerous, with workers

being liable to chronic bronchitis,
consumption, rheumatism and gout

caused by the high temperatures

they were exposed to at work. They

were also liable to cataracts,

especially of the left eye, owing to

the heat and glare of the furnaces.

However, a later paragraph in the
pamphlet reads: “The trade is very

free from all forms of serious
accidents”. Indeed the Flint Glass

Makers Society published statistics

to prove its members were
remarkably long-lived; their
average age at death was 71
1
/2. It

also reported a number of men over

60 years of age still working who

had started in the glass-house at the

age of nine. It was one of the few

trades where men of 50 were in
greater demand than men of 30.

Entry requirements

No formal qualifications were
required, just “a robust constitution,

good eyesight and an eye for
proportion or he will never become

a good glassblower”. The

prospects were good. There was
little or no short time and several
firms were contemplating creating

new ‘chairs’; skilled labour was in

short supply. However, it was
recognised the heat, and the

monotonous nature of the job

during the early years meant many
Birmingham boys preferred other

unskilled work especially during

the summer months. The six hour
‘turns’ were also unpopular with

parents as boys got home after
midnight, then had to leave again

for work by 5 am. The pamphlet
admits this, making a last telling

comment: “A certain number of

boys are obtained from the
Stourbridge district, which is the
chief centre of the trade”.
John Brooks