IF YOU were to write the story of the role of the pub in our history, it would run into many volumes. The pub has played a crucial role in our politics, economics and our culture. I must admit, for me this is personal, some of my most important cultural experiences have been in pubs.

As a jazz and folk fan there’s nothing more sublime than a good gig over a pint, or as satisfying after a political meeting as putting the world to rights in the pub. One of the things I’ve missed in Covid times has been those convivial connections; I miss the meetings less.

Yet not a week has gone by when there has not been news of a pub closing for good. Every time I hear that, it feels like a real blow as a community loses an important space. Last month, such a closure made our regional TV news — not in a good way.

Dozens of firefighters were tackling a blaze in Burslem. The historic Leopard pub was on fire. The Leopard is a seriously old hostelry — it has been in continuous use since at least 1765. One regular from that time was no other than Josiah Wedgwood, the innovative potter, industrialist and abolitionist.

There is, or now was, a framed facsimile of a letter from Wedgwood in which he said he had dined in that very room in the Leopard with the great canal engineer James Brindley. That meeting was a key event in the industrial revolution — and it happened in a pub.

The Leopard played a key role in the history of Burslem: it was the marketplace tavern and later a commercial hotel. The pub is thinly disguised as the Tiger in the novels of the Five Towns by Arnold Bennet, the Potteries’ most famous author.

There is a more recent artistic celebration of the pub however: in 2019 local artist Christine Mallaband-Brown was commissioned by the two owners, the Neil’s Crisp and Cox, to brighten it up with some murals illustrating the history of the pub. She painted a series of pictures marking key moments in its history, these included: a Clarice Cliff design, Wedgewood discussing the building of the Trent and Mersey Canal, a murder scene of a woman who is meant to haunt the place and a pottery worker finishing her shift.

One of the most important, for me, was her picture of the 1842 Potteries riots. The riots took place at a time of profound political unrest. A strike called by miners in and around the Potteries became a general strike, as WH Sparrow, a Longton coal owner, had ignored the law of giving two weeks’ notice and had reduced the colliers’ pay by around a shilling a day. Other miners came out in sympathy and the strike quickly spread across North Staffordshire and into south-east Lancashire.

That august Thomas Cooper, a Chartist orator from Leicester, arrived in Hanley and gave a speech at Crown Bank which led to the strike spreading to pottery workers. Strikers marched through the towns attacking property and calling for other workers to join them. This raged on until Samuel Alcock, a leading pottery manufacturer and chief constable, sent for local magistrate Captain Powys.

In the meantime, the 2nd Dragoons had arrived on the scene and Captain Powys read the Riot Act. This however failed to disperse the crowd, if anything it was growing with men coming into the town from Leek. Finally, Powys gave the order to the Dragoons based at the Leopard to open fire on the crowd.

One man, Joseph Heapy, was killed outright and the crowd fled. Gradually more and more troops arrived. Once the authorities had regained control the repercussions were vicious: 274 people were bought to trial, 146 were jailed and 54 were transported to Australia.

Thomas Cooper was convicted of conspiracy and inciting violence. He spent time in Stafford gaol where he wrote a long poem in several volumes that is hard to describe now, but it is a bit like Shelley’s Queen Mab. This made him a minor celebrity when he came out of prison.

Two important things happened as a result of the events of 1842: by the end of the year the county police force was established and the Miners Association of Great Britain was formed. The battle was over, but the war rolled on.

Just as the events of 1842 outside the Leopard are a story of those times, today’s story of the Leopard is a story of our times. The owners of 10 years who had tried and struggled to make it pay as a pub handed back the keys. Then the Grade II listed building was bought by property developers and its descent began. It became an illegal cannabis farm, fell into dereliction, then the news was the police had arrested four men for burglary and arson.

This is a story we have all heard before. We live in a strange place and time. We value these cultural assets so little we allow them to fall into rack and ruin.

Politicians pontificate about reviving the high streets and saving community assets, yet it is the property developers who are allowed to reshape our places. As Kay Sutcliffe pointed out in her wonderful song about the Kent Miners: “There’ll always be a happy hour for those with money, jobs and power.”