The Day the Soldiers Came

The reason for the Talargoch lead miners’ strike of July-November 1856 was unusual and the names of the five men who caused of it have come down to us. They were Peter Jones, Pen-y-Cefn; John Edwards, Newmarket; a man they just called Harrison, who was an in-law of the steward; Dafydd Jones, the big boss, as he was called, and his two sons, John and Robert. In common with all the miners, they didn’t work for the mining company—they worked for themselves and sold their ore to the company once it was nicely washed and weighed on the surface. The miners were in effect working as private enterprise contactors and the risk to the company was minimal—the miners even used their own tools and explosives!

At the beginning of July 1856, the mine agent, Captain Ishmael Jones, allocated Peter Jones’s gang to a part of the mine known to have a poor prospects. Jones was unhappy and asked if he could have an allowance in addition to what they might be paid for the ore because it would be otherwise unprofitable. Ishmael Jones said that he could stretch to £7 per ton but there would be no additional allowance. The gods smiled that day and the men found that they had been allocated a very productive seam which the company had not anticipated. Ishmael Jones kept his promise and each man received £120—that is well over £11,000 in present day value—each! When the company heard about what had happened, it changed the rules immediately so that only the first two tons would earn £7 and anything over that would be decided by the agent. The miners were not happy, especially Peter Jones’s men because they still had lots of ore left in their seam.

The miners protested by surrounding Dyserth Hall where Ishmael Jones lived. Some carried guns and some—probably on the spur of the moment—dressed in women’s clothing in the manner of the Rebeccas. [The Rebecca Riots had taken place in Wales between 1839 and 1843 when the agricultural economy had collapsed and taxes were felt to be unfair. Toll gates, which farmers had to pay to use, had been smashed by groups of men following leaders dressed as Rebecca, a reference to Genesis 24:60; And they blessed Rebekah and said unto her, Thou art our sister, be thou the mother of thousands of millions, and let thy seed possess the gate of those which hate them.]

The men did no damage at Dyserth Hall but went to the pumping engine across the road, where they threatened the engine-drivers who agreed to stop the pumps, causing the mine to flood. Ishmael Jones resigned as the agent and in the middle of October, the company brought in outsiders to restart the pumps. At first all was quiet and then on October 21^st, a gang of about 30 men went to Talargoch at about 10.30 at night and fired shots into the engine-house which was behind where the car sales businesses are now. They missed the engine driver but some small-shot entered the feet and legs of Edward Thomas, the watchman. The Government offered a reward of £100—worth about £9,500 now—but the village remained silent.

The whole affair could have been dealt with by police but Flintshire did not have a regular constabulary and so the local magistrates swore in some special constables to take possession of the mine office and works. The next day, they decided that it was too much for special constables and Colonel Rowley Conwy was sent to Chester to fetch the military.

By good fortune, there were soldiers in the barracks—the 89th Regiment, Princess Victoria’s Royal Irish Fusiliers, a crack foot regiment which had fought in practically every important British Empire engagement since being raised at Dublin in 1793. Known as Blayney’s Bloodhounds, their battle honours had been won fighting Napoleon in Egypt, the American War of 1812 and the Anglo-Burmese Wars. Their motto was, “Clear the Way!”