The answer to the question ‘where can I go bull-baiting?’ is also answered in this surprisingly gory slice of history from our ceramic carnival correspondent Angus Young.
It was one of the big annual events to look forward to if you happened to live in Hull 200 years ago. Pottery Feast was held every Easter Monday, one of the three major festivals during the year in the town alongside Drypool Feast and Hull Fair held in the Market Place..
Said to have originally been the idea of a local ship’s captain, the carnival took its name from its location in a neighbourhood then known locally as The Potteries off English Street where two large pot and glass-making kilns were based. The captain could well have imported the idea from seeing similar festivals in the Baltic states where he was a frequent visitor, coming up with a programme of competitions and sports which evolved over time into a larger event featuring stalls, sideshows, shooting galleries, rides and amusements.
The original site for Pottery Feast was an open field east of Alfred Street (now a car park for staff working at Smith & Nephew) where bull-baiting was an early attraction. A bull was tethered to a large stone in the middle of a field with a long length of rope before a pack of dogs would be released close by to attack it. The bull was invariably pulled violently back towards the stone if it launched a counter charge. If a dog got too close it risked being gored by the bull and on one occasion a bull broke loose and charged down English Street, scattering crowds along the way.
As spectator sports go, it wasn’t for the faint-hearted but badger-baiting at the Feast was arguably even worse. A badger was kept in a wooden barrel with one end open to the elements. Dogs were then released to attack the badger with bets being laid on which dog would emerge with its prey between its jaws.
As the immediate area’s population started to grow with the arrival of Hull’s first railway line to the south, the Feast got even bigger and rowdier, spreading along the length of English Street. The local pubs certainly did a roaring trade, drunken behaviour became the norm and criminality was rife as evidenced by a number of contemporary court reports.
In 1838 mother-of-thirteen Hannah Outon was charged with being drunk and stealing a piece of fish from a street stall at Pottery Feast. She told the court she had two glasses of ale and a small sup of rum for breakfast before grabbing the fish and eating it raw.
In 1843 a 13-year-old girl called Elizabeth Fawcitt was arrested after stealing £2 and seven shillings from the drawer of a lodging house. She spent most of the money at Pottery Feast, including buying two gold rings and an accordion for herself and treating a group of friends to a share of eleven tarts, a twopenny cake, a halfpennyworth cup of soda and several swing rides.
In 1848 a ship’s apprentice called Thomas Coates appeared in court charged with absenting himself from his vessel just before it was due to sail. He initially claimed to be ill but it was proved he was actually “enjoying himself” at Pottery Feast instead. The magistrates sent him to a house of correction for 21 days.
The Feast also experienced tragedy.
In 1832 a 12-year-old boy called John Green was crushed to death when a large swing collapsed on top of him and in 1886 a police constable died after falling into Albert Dock at the end of a late-night shift on patrol at Pottery Feast.
After Hull Fair moved to Walton Street in the late 19th century it appears Pottery Feast’s popularity waned to the point where it all but disappeared. One hundred years of outdoor entertainment – the good, the bad and the ugly – had come to an end.