Mine ruins outside Barrow-in-Furness. Photo Christina Howker Ravan, 2009

After my mother’s death, I found a tattered bible among her possessions inscribed by my great-grandfather James Pearce of Barrow-in-Furness. I recognised it as the volume my grandmother Mabel Roach would diligently read on a Sunday. (Goodness knows how, with its microscopic font). But of her father, she never spoke.

I later came to learn that James Pearce was part of the great movement of Cornishmen searching for mining jobs, which resulted in my mother being born in Johannesburg, as a first generation South African. Seemingly loth to leave the country, my ancestors first moved to more viable mines in other parts of England. Cornish miners were highly valued for their skill in hard rock mining and were actively recruited by the new iron mines in the north-west.

                                       Cornish miners, late 19th century. Photo Wellcome Collection.

When my great-great grandfather Richard Webber moved his wife and family from Devon to Lancashire, hopes were high for a good future. He found work in Stank iron mine outside Barrow-in-Furness.  We can’t know the exact date of their journey, but judging by documented family events, it must have been between 1871 and 1877. They found a home in Roose village, two rows of terraced houses situated between the town of Barrow-in-Furness and the mine.  The village had been built by the mining company to accommodate their workers. Roose also had its own shop, post office and church. The 1881 census shows that out of the 191 cottages in Roose, 284 men were employed on the iron mine—253 iron miners and 31 labourers or engine drivers. The majority were from Cornwall and maintained their Cornish identity. Indeed, a home from home. 

The close-knit nature of the community enabled the miners to use the Cornish collective bargaining system, where men formed groups to quote on particular stretches of ore. A good living was to be made, though not without risk.

                                                                                                                    South Row, Roose, 2009. Photo Colin Kinnear

But within a short space of time Richard had fallen ill with miners’ phthisis, a lung disease that has felled so many of my male mining ancestors. His death certificate puts the duration of the illness at one year and nine months. Surprisingly, in that period they conceived their fifth child who was born in April 1877. Richard Webber died three months later at the age of 39 years.

Jessie was thus left with an infant and four small children, including my nine-year-old great-grandmother Eliza-Jane, in this unfamiliar northern town. It is remarkable that she did not move back to her family home in Devon, but perhaps she had all the support she needed from the Roose community. For example, living in the next block, in 65 South Row was Richard’s younger sister Mary, a dressmaker and aunt to her brother’s children. Facing the same challenges and enduring the same hardships made Roose a comforting environment for widows and children alike.

Jessie was not alone for long. By 1880 she was remarried to a neighbour, a Cornish miner two years her junior. Richard Rodda moved into the Webber home at 33 South Row and he and Jessie started a new family. They must have prospered, as by 1891 they were able to employ a servant, 12-year-old Elizabeth Kintop.

But there was more tragedy to come. In 1882 Richard Rodda’s younger brother John fell from a ladder in the mine shaft and died.

Enter James Pearce
By the time of Jessie Webber’s remarriage, my great-great grandfather Henry Pearce, his wife Mary and their brood had also made the long journey from Perranuthoe in Cornwall to Barrow-in Furness. Henry and his two sons, James (18 years) and William (14 years) took up jobs in Stank Mines. They found accommodation at 66 South Row.

According to the inscription on the flyleaf his bible, James was senior in the St Luke’s Church Army, an evangelical organisation and mission community.  Newspaper cuttings of the time described their concerts and events, including processions through the streets of Barrow. For example, The Barrow Herald and Furness Advertiser (4 August 1886) describes a Sunday school treat and procession with the St Lukes Church Army Band. “A halt was made at the Mission room in Salthouse road where 730 children sat down to tea. Then the procession set off for a field where those fleet of foot were made happy by various prizes, and others experienced the purer joy of applauding their efforts”.

Whether through neighbourliness or church life, James Pearce came to know Eliza-Jane Webber, five years his junior. In 1887 they were married in St Lukes church: he was 24 and she 19 years old. They moved to 64 North Row where they brought up their three children—Rose, Eliza-Jane and my grandmother Mabel. By the time Mabel was born in 1892, Jessie and Richard Rodda had produced four more children. Their youngest, Eva, was younger than her two aunts Rose and Eliza-Jane.

Jessie Anne Rodda with her daughters (and granddaughter?)
Left to right: Jessie Holman, Eva Rodda, Jessie Rodda, Joan.

Thanks to Christine Howker Ravan for permission to use her photographs and to Rod White for the cuttings from the BHFA.