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Quietly
Making History
John
Haworth and Burnley Football Club
Part One: 1903-1911
Introduction
Political scientists are often tempted to make the
distinction between authoritarianism and dictatorship. According to such scholars,
authoritarianism implies a belief in government 'from above' with near total disregard for
the idea of popular consent, whilst also allowing a range of economic, religious and other
freedoms in the name of civil society. Dictatorship, on the other hand, refers to absolute
and unchecked power in the hands of one individual who may act beyond constitutional
constraints and who either ignores or manipulates popular opinion according to his need.
Odd to relate at first glance, but the British football
club chairman could arguably be seen as a social position which translates well into this
political lexicon. In the same way that dictators or leaders of authoritarian states are
rarely elected with a popular mandate, chairmen too tend to lack democratic legitimacy. In
the boardroom, status is purchased with the chairman usually being the board member with
the most shares. Many chairmen also have the knack of alienating the public, and many
demonstrably hang onto power in the face of mass opposition, which beyond physical
measures can do little to remove the autocrat from his position.
As a young lad, I can remember Burnley's then chairman
Bob Lord being interviewed on television at a time when his chairmanship had crumbled from
immensely powerful authoritarian rule to discredited dictatorship. Rather cruelly, he had
been the subject of that thing that all unpopular dictators fear and loathe - the
democratic ballot - although this may be an overly generous description of the
viewer’s poll organised by Granada TV. Nonetheless, the outcome of this poll was
opposition to his chairmanship (then standing at 23 years) by a ratio of around 4 to 1. To
his immense credit, Bob Lord, by this time a septuagenarian, stood his ground with all the
arrogance and tenacity for which he was both famed and despised. It took his death to
remove him from office: the mark of a true power-monger. He died in 1981, and it was no
doubt an agony for him in his final days to see his beloved club suffer relegation from
the Second Division for the first time.
Bob Lord’s trial by TV is one of my most vivid
memories as an infant Claret. Early games are hard to visualise. I can recall flashes of
action and the odd goal, but equally, if not more clearly, I can remember our beleaguered
chairman on the TV, casting at the young Elton Welsby glares of sheer contempt that used
to freeze the blood of hostile journalists and errant directors. If looks could kill, then
Welsby would have withered on the spot. But how exciting it was to see my club the subject
of a television programme! Although my sympathies probably lay with his opposition on the
terraces, Bob Lord and his show of defiance that night was something to behold.
Therefore, my formative years as a Claret will always
include that memory of Bob Lord on the TV, a deeply flawed man fiercely defending himself
as his empire crumbled round his ears, and I dare say every fan can recall being witness
to something extraordinary in their salad days of football supporting, something that
shapes and defines everything that follows. For Bob Lord himself, this was particularly
the case, and we are fortunate that he was given the opportunity to commit his experience
to print. In the opening chapter of his autobiography, My Fight For Football, Bob
Lord related what he could first remember about being a Claret:
Let us kick-off with the inspiration of it all. This
was when I stood as a youngster amid the mighty mass of people assembled near the Town
Hall of Burnley to cheer home our Cup winners of 1914. That vast crowd was there, together
with the City Fathers, to welcome the Cup to Burnley for the first time. The team came out
on the balcony, and there was Tommy Boyle, the captain, holding the Cup in triumph as high
above his head as he could in order that all those people should see it. Even I, as a
nipper of six, could see it. How I thrilled!
This, then, was the formative event in the
mind’s eye of Bob Lord, and who can doubt the sincerity of his words? In a world
without television or radio, the scene he described would indeed have been an immensely
exciting spectacle.
On that balcony up to which Bob Lord gazed with wonder
and delight would have been one of the men who had made it all happen. Perhaps more than
most he deserved to take some of the acclaim, to hold that world-famous silver trophy up
high and accept the congratulations of the people. I doubt if he did, as such a thing
would seemingly have been wholly against his character. Even so, no one could have
begrudged him his moment of public triumph if he had. His name was John Haworth. He was
the manager who had guided Burnley to their first major trophy in their history, and this
is the story of his managership.
Perspective
It is the prerogative and privilege of the historian
(amateur or otherwise) to suggest new perspectives on how to perceive an event and
understand its link to both past and future. Under John Haworth, Burnley Football Club set
itself new and previously unattained standards that are commemorated to this day. By the
time his tenure came to an untimely end, John Haworth’s place in the history of the
club was assured. From this perspective, looking back in time, the rise of the club from
Second Division obscurity to League Champions has something of the rags to riches about
it, but our view is unavoidably coloured by our knowledge of the more recent past. We know
that Burnley is a club that has represented England in Europe and America; that pro-rata
it has usually been able to call upon more of its townspeople for support than any other
professional club. We know, in short, that there is something special about the place.
However, the specifics remain: what exactly is
it that makes Burnley special? Is it something intangible, something in the air? Or have
the traditions we cherish been built upon more concrete foundations? It remains
fashionable to uphold the latter - the invention of tradition, the idea that at some point
in the past all rituals (even holy or spiritual) were the result of rational human
decisions motivated by matters of power and influence. I feel this is a somewhat stark
thesis to apply to football, but it does contain an element of truth. Our belief that
there is something uncommon about our club does rest in part on her achievements on the
field of play. These material considerations form an important element because they
intermittently empower and vitalise our other virtues: devotion, faith, sacrifice, passion
and love.
It is in this context that we can begin to realise the
importance of that great team constructed by John Haworth. It invented a tradition: the
fine, attacking team roared on by the proud townspeople. But - and not a small irony, this
- the invention of a tradition initially involves a dislocation of some kind: the breaking
of a mould, the transgression upon new ground. The mould broken by John Haworth and his
team, the new territory ventured upon, was the nature and scale of the success that they
brought to Turf Moor. In every sense of the phrase, Burnley became a power in the land.
It is, I think, hard to underestimate how radical and
courageous such a vision was when history provided no precedent. To grasp an insight into
the sheer audacity of this aspiration, we focus our historical telescope the other way.
Rather than just looking back in time, it's worth considering what faced the 34 year-old
John Haworth, facing the future as the newly appointed manager of Burnley. What was the
stature and rank of the club? What customs confronted and challenged him as he took his
place within the Turf Moor hierarchy? These histories and mores, already established, were
to prove stubborn obstacles to his dream of building an all-conquering Burnley Football
Club.
In the end, John Haworth didn't just undermine the
doubters and the pessimists - he converted them. In doing so he changed the entire history
of the club, both past and future. He set in place the precious historical commodity of
success. It was against his team's achievements that the great side of the sixties
measured their progress, just as we Clarets today use the sixties and seventies as a
reflection of our own hopes and aspirations. It is for not just being the best of his day,
but for daring to want to be the best, that John Haworth ought to be saluted as a
major figure in the annals of our history.
A
Baptism in Church: Spen Whittaker
 John Haworth successfully
applied for the Turf Moor managership in June 1910, following an awful tragedy that befell
incumbent manager Spen Whittaker (left). The lives of John Haworth and Spen Whittaker were
crossed from an early stage, and it is certain that they were friends. Both were
Accringtonians, born five years apart (Spen Whittaker in 1871, John Haworth in 1876) and
both lent enormous enthusiasm and energy to amateur football. Indeed, a brief examination
of Spen Whittaker’s role in the life of East Lancashire football takes us back almost
to the very foundations of organised football.
It is said that Spen’s interest in the game was
due to the geographical accident of living next to the ground of Church Football Club.
Those not acquainted with Accrington may not have heard of Church, a small community on
the outskirts of the town, but to a young Spen Whittaker (or, indeed, anyone interested in
association football in the 1870s or 1880s), Church Football Club represented a dynamic
focal point. Under the leadership of Bethel Robinson, Church took on all-comers from the
North of England and were regular entrants in the F.A Cup throughout the 1880s, reaching
the last eight in 1885.
With the onset of professionalism in the mid to late
1880's, small clubs like Darwen and Church found themselves outgunned by larger neighbours
like Blackburn Rovers and Accrington. When the inaugural, professional Football League was
formed it was the latter pair that secured participation, with the smaller clubs left to
play in semi-professional or amateur non-league football. It is probable that Spen would
have gone to Moorhead Park to watch his local League side at some point, and he would no
doubt have admired the skills and leadership of George Haworth, uncle of John, who
captained Accrington Football Club and who represented England on five occasions.
But it was those heroic FA Cup runs of Church that had
first captured the imagination of the young Spen Whittaker and he soon became involved as
a player, first with Accrington Borough, and then with Oswaldtwistle Rovers. In 1893,
around the time that Spen moved to Oswaldtwistle Rovers, the town of Accrington lost
Football League representation for the first time. That season, Accrington Football Club
had finished second bottom of the First Division, which obliged them to face Sheffield
United, runners-up of the newly-formed Second Division, in a ‘test match’, the
original version of the play-offs. Accrington lost 1-0 and were relegated, but finances
had become so bad that they decided to resign from the League altogether. This action
incurred a financial penalty from the Football League which practically finished
Accrington Football Club, and they wound up their activities altogether in January 1896.
The demise of Accrington FC meant that the local
amateur teams playing in the Lancashire Combination and other minor leagues now
represented the most senior sides in the area. Here, then, was truly an opportunity for
the most ambitious young footballers and administrators to pick up the baton dropped by
Accrington FC and once more seek to advance the game in their home town. Two men who
picked up the standard with particular determination and marched with great distinction
were Spen Whittaker and John Haworth.
Neither men were especially good players, but both
discovered an aptitude for coaching and administration. In the case of Spen Whittaker,
football administration clearly ran in the family. His elder brother Nat Whittaker was
secretary of the Southern League, probably the strongest amateur league in the country at
that time, and also held position on the FA Executive. Spen used his brother’s
connections to arrange regular tours of the South of England. On one occasion, a London
newspaper previewed the arrival of Oswaldtwistle Rovers by describing them as having
previously played some of the prettiest football seen in the capital.
The energy that Spen invested in local football is
demonstrably apparent when one looks at his commitments outside of his position at
Oswaldtwistle Rovers. He was a member of the Accrington and District Charity Committee,
and strove hard but unsuccessfully to revive the Accrington Charity Cup. Spen was also the
secretary of the Burnley, Accrington and District Referees’ Association, and was an
active referee. On one occasion, Spen refereed at Manchester United and was physically
attacked for allowing a late opposition goal. (This, of course, compares favourably to the
present day where referees are attacked for merely awarding the opposition a penalty.)
Spen also represented his club on the committee of the Lancashire Combination, and shared
the task of arranging fixtures.
It is clear from this laudable record that Spen loved
the game and derived enormous satisfaction from his many activities within it. As an
administrator, Spen’s principles were thrift and caution, and this allied well with
his affable manner. Under his guidance, Oswaldtwistle Rovers earned a reputation for both
financial rectitude and a homespun friendliness. They were never in debt and were always
impeccably organised.
As advantageous as these factors were to the stability
of his club, Spen’s prudence also indicated a limited sense of ambition: a
good-natured and occasionally wise conservative habit of accepting one’s place in the
scheme of things rather than attempting to subvert the underlying order. Perhaps this
aspect of Spen’s character marked him out as essentially a devotee of the local, in
which he inclined by instinct to place his faith and trust. This outlook led to a
distinctive managerial style well suited to amateur football, but one that would lead to
some disharmony at Turf Moor. Spen’s approach was not shared by his successor, John
Haworth, who approached the game from an altogether different perspective.
Th'owd
Reds and a young lad: John Haworth
Like Spen Whittaker, John Haworth received an
Accringtonian education in the game, but his was illuminated with a sparkle of glamour,
and within this fact there is perhaps an instructive lesson. On the touchline at little
Church FC, Spen had seen first hand the harsh, carnivorous nature of football as his local
team - once able to match the likes of Blackburn Rovers - began to be cruelly devoured by
their larger and now far more powerful neighbours. Can one think of a better way to
inculcate a young man's character with the virtue of accepting honourable limits?
This, however, was not the lot of John Haworth. Raised
in a sporting family, his uncle was an England international and the much-respected
captain of the town's League club, known locally as Th'owd Reds. Despite being by far the
smallest town to foster a professional Football League club, the outlook seemed bright for
George Haworth's Accrington FC as they finished their first couple of seasons comfortably
cohabiting with big city clubs like Derby County, Aston Villa, Notts County, Everton,
Wolverhampton Wanderers and Stoke City. With a leader like George Haworth in the family,
one can imagine that the art of defeating odds, the refusal to be intimidated, the
discipline to expect success - in a cliché, the courage to punch above one's weight -
shaped the early outlook of the young John Haworth.
It was perhaps the financial chaos that engulfed and
wrecked Accrington FC in 1893 that in part inspired the young John Haworth to begin his
career in football management. It was clear by this time, although only in his teens, that
he would not emulate his uncle on the field of play. Demonstrating a firm grasp of realpolitik
that would always serve him well, John began instead to plan his path to pre-eminence
as a manager. In 1894, at the sprightly age of eighteen, and just a year after Spen
Whittaker had begun to manage Oswaldtwistle Rovers, John took over the managership of the
amateur team for whom he was playing, Meadow Bank Rovers. However, his real target was far
grander: to re-establish the professional game in his home town of Accrington.
While Spen was happy to guide Oswaldtwistle Rovers
through many a season of local amateur football, within three years John had disbanded
Meadow Bank Rovers and had merged his club with upwardly-mobile Accrington Stanley. This
famous club, which had begun life as the team of a youth organisation located in Stanley
Street, had grown from its adolescent genesis into a mature and robust outfit competing in
the North East Lancashire League. In 1897, John began his time at Accrington Stanley on
the committee, but within months was appointed the club's manager. From this position he
could begin to make strides towards his ambition.
His first step was to secure a higher grade of football
for the club. At this time, the Lancashire Combination served as the most senior amateur
competition in the area, and was the league in which were entered the reserve sides of the
county's professional teams. For an amateur team on the rise, the Lancashire Combination
was the place to be, offering the chance to compete against the resources of big Football
League clubs like Everton, Blackburn, Oldham and Preston North End.
John Haworth secured Accrington Stanley's invitation
into this company in 1901, and success was almost immediate. In 1902-3, Stanley became the
first non-league club to win the Lancashire Combination championship, and nearly won it
the following season, finishing runners-up to Everton Reserves. They won the championship
again in 1905-06, and as champions of one of the strongest non-league competitions in the
North of England, Accrington Stanley was established as the senior semi-professional club
in the area, and John Haworth, still only thirty years old, as one of the brightest
managerial prospects.
The description of John Haworth's Accrington Stanley as
'semi-professional' rather than merely 'amateur' is not just apt, but highly important in
understanding the impact of the man upon each of the football clubs that he managed. It
was during his time as manager of Accrington Stanley that John first demonstrated an
approach to the management and motivation of players that would go on to transform Burnley
FC in an even more spectacular fashion than it did Accrington Stanley. For John Haworth
believed in the power of money.
This is not to say that he necessarily held the
pessimistic view that man was essentially greedy and self-seeking, and that money was
merely the most effective way of securing compliance. Instead, one has to consider the
social and economic impact of professional football - by this time hugely popular - upon
communities of working class people in the North of England. Money was a primary factor in
the development of football as soon as families realised that football could pay regular
working wages. Moreover, the stadiums had sprouted organically at the very heart of the
communities where those families lived, a green oasis of open space within grey deserts of
factories and terraced housing.
The clubs had grown, drawing nourishment from the
approval in those Victorian times of health, vigour and athleticism, as well as from a
pride rooted in the welcome opportunity to identify with local achievement. In prosperous
times the Saturday match was an entertaining diversion from the daily grind. In hard times
the match became more than this, since there was no work from which to be relieved. By
association with the local team, positive identity could be gleaned from a victory. To win
felt like a personal success; to lose was just another familiar clout from life. In
football writer Arthur Hopcraft's words, "Football was not so much an opiate of the
people as a flag run up against the gaffer bolting his gates and the landlord armed with
his bailiffs."
In this world, the local lad made good on the football
pitch was a true working-class hero, for he came from the same streets as the spectators,
blooded in the makeshift bouts of backstreet football. These were games of hungry urgency
that betrayed a desire to escape to something better. Hopcraft has encapsulated what
football meant to the families of the late-Victorian generation:
When there was no work to be had, and only the
drudging kind when it was available, there was just a chance that a big lad could scrape
into the police force; but suppose, God be good to us, he could make a footballer.
It was to the young men within these communities that
John Haworth offered an avenue away. A playing contract was a treasured prize. It might
not have led to middle-class affluence, but its credo probably transcended material
matters. Its currency instead was a priceless social and cultural capital. While everyone
else walked to the mill or the mine, the professional footballer took different cobbled
streets, not exactly paved with gold, but still shining with the silver promise of honour,
adulation and a fair wage.
Under John Haworth, the players of Accrington Stanley
earned all three, but significantly it was the latter that taxed the journalists of the
Burnley Express when they penned their greetings to him as the new Burnley manager in July
1910:
Since Mr. Haworth became its secretary, Accrington
Stanley increased their weekly wage bill from 30 shillings to as many pounds.
At first glance, John Haworth seemed to have been a
remarkably similar appointment to that of his predecessor. Both were Accringtonians who
had immersed themselves in the amateur game of their home town. Prior to his appointment
at Turf Moor, Spen had been at Oswaldtwistle Rovers for ten years. John had, by 1910,
clocked up thirteen years as manager of Accrington Stanley. However, although buried
amongst much Victorian diplomacy, this ambiguous remark on the part of the Burnley Express
was calculated to both indicate the nature of John Haworth's managerial style and to hint
of its contrast to that of Spen Whittaker.
It was clear that the people of Burnley were keen to
see at least a meaningful change in the nature of their club's team manager. They had
tired somewhat of Spen's homespun philosophies, and may have wished instead for something
a bit more cosmopolitan, a little more daring. With this in mind, the good folk of Burnley
may well have been a trifle underwhelmed at the appointment of John Haworth, but given the
frustrations of the previous years, they can perhaps be forgiven for drawing hasty
conclusions.
Spen
Whittaker, 1903-1910
It is fair to say that Spen Whittaker did not walk into
a rose garden when he accepted the managership of Burnley Football Club in September 1903,
in the process becoming the youngest manager in the Football League. The means by which
bad managers continue to find employment is one of the enduring mysteries of football, but
nearly as enigmatic is how some managers can suddenly engineer success after years of
failure.
In 1899, Burnley had appointed Ernest Mangnall, as team
manager. Mangnall presided over not just relegat ion from the First Division but the disastrous campaign of 1902-03, when
Burnley finished bottom of the Second Division and had to apply for re-election to the
League.
It was at this point that Mangnall (the rather
questionable looking character pictured on the right) successfully applied for the
managership of Manchester United. He was clearly a persuasive man at interview. However,
despite his atrocious record at Burnley, Mangnall went on to become one of the most
successful managers of his day. By 1911, he had won two League Championships and one FA
Cup, but when Spen Whittaker cleared out Mangnall's desk in 1903, success on that scale
was absurd to even contemplate. Burnley were in a mess, with a poor squad of players, a
tatty ground and a large debt at the local building society.
But Spen was not alone in his mission to turn the club
around. Joining the club as a committee man that year was one Harry Windle, a man of
vision, equally determined as Spen that the debacle of the previous season would not be
repeated. The Board determined that the only way forward was to relieve the club of debt,
but how to do this on meagre gates and with no major investor? The only immediate option
was to reduce operating costs and pray for a good Cup run.
It was in this environment that Spen Whittaker shored
up the declining fortunes of Burnley Football Club. Although he would undoubtedly have
liked more resources at his disposal, Spen would have been sympathetic to the idea of
financial caution, and a dab hand at the sort of reflexive ingenuity that comes with
having to make the very most of what you had. At his disposal Spen had a sturdy backbone
of loyal players - Hugh Moffat, Fred Barron, Jonathan Parker, Richard Smith, Jonathan
Cretney - none especially distinguished, but all utterly reliable.
 Around these players Spen
built a side of local lads and journeymen, and Burnley settled comfortably within her
Second Division surroundings. Whilst never remotely threatening to put together a
promotion challenge, neither did Burnley find herself haunted by the spectre of
re-election. The long hoped for Cup run failed to materialise, but by 1907, with Harry
Windle now a director, solvency was in sight. With the finances no longer threatening the
survival of the club, Spen pulled off something of a coup with the signature of veteran
England international Alex Leake (right). By this time Leake was 36 years old, but he
still possessed the panache of a class player. His authority on the pitch led to his
appointment as team captain, and the faithful on the terraces at Turf Moor purred their
appreciation, taking an instant shine to their new centre-half.
One should not underestimate the psychological benefits
of having a man there who had been at the top of his profession, a natural leader who
could counsel and advise the youngsters from a position of experience. Two such youngsters
who probably benefited from the presence of Leake were Jerry Dawson and Dick Lindley.
 Spen signed Dawson, a goalkeeper from the village of Cliviger on the
outskirts of Burnley, in 1907. Dick Lindley was a small but immensely skilful
inside-right, born in Bolton but signed by Spen from his old club Oswaldtwistle Rovers in
1908. Both made the first team almost immediately, but while Dawson established his place,
Lindley would have to wait for a regular berth.
Nonetheless, with these two signings Spen Whittaker had
unwittingly put into place the first two pieces of a jigsaw that would bring fame and
honour to Burnley both sides of the First World War. The photo on the left, dated 1908,
shows a young Jerry Dawson (top left) standing with Alex Leake (top right). The players on
the front row are Fred Barron and Richard Smith.
In 1909, Burnley at last put together a decent run in
the FA Cup. Non-league sides Bristol Rovers and Crystal Palace were convincingly defeated,
the latter by a 9-0 scoreline that has been equalled but never bettered by any Burnley
team. In the next round Burnley faced Tottenham. Although Spurs would complete the double
over Burnley that season, it was the Turfites who got the better of their two Cup
encounters, Burnley defeating the Londoners 3-1 in a replay that attracted a crowd of
around 30,000.
A dash of glamour came to Turf Moor in the last eight.
Burnley drew Manchester United, reigning League Champions and managed, of course, by
Spen's predecessor Ernest Mangnall. This was a tie that would be long remembered by
generations of Burnley fans for the controversy it sparked. The game was played on a
bitterly cold Saturday afternoon in early March, but the home crowd was warmed by an
excellent display from Burnley. With just eighteen minutes remaining, Burnley held a 1-0
lead. At this point it began to snow, and the Manchester players complained to the referee
that the conditions were becoming unplayable. Whether or not this claim had any merit,
what infuriated both the Burnley crowd and players was the action of the referee, who,
legend has it, couldn't agree fast enough. He abandoned the game, dashing Burnley's hopes
of victory and their first ever FA Cup semi-final. United won the replay 3-2 and went on
to win the Cup.
In the following weeks, dark conspiracy theories raged
in the public houses of Burnley, and there seems to be little doubt that the club had been
hard done by. However, there was a consolation. The Cup run had lasted seven ties, watched
in total by well over 100,000 paying spectators. This additional income was hugely
welcome, and at the end of the season Burnley succeeded in clearing their debt. Harry
Windle, newly appointed as Burnley chairman, proudly announced that the club was in the
black for the first time in many a year, and a cautious optimism began to permeate the air
around Turf Moor.
The Cup run of 1909 had been a welcome distraction from
the League, where Burnley were unable to make any headway. Season 1909-10 began with high
hopes for a good campaign. The improved financial situation meant that the club was able
to sign full-time reserves, and in the traditional pre-season Reds vs Greens trial game,
three promising young lads emerged, prompting Alex Leake to comment to the Burnley Express
that: "McLoughlin, Dollies and Watson form a trio of young halves who look like
making us older members play for our positions."
All three did indeed play that season, but it was
Willie Watson who was to stay and make his mark at Turf Moor. He played at first in the
reserves, and his performances earned an enthusiastic review in the Burnley Express:
"Watson was the most prominent of a capital middle line." Unfortunately, the
first team suffered a disastrous start to the season. Three defeats and one draw forced
Spen Whittaker into the transfer market, and he signed Ben Green from Birmingham City.
Green turned out to be a good signing, scoring eighteen goals in his first season and
helping to stabilise the team. 
Willie Watson (right) made his first team debut in
October against a Barnsley side that included Tommy Boyle, playing in a half-back line
whom the Burnley Express described as: "…a class unto themselves." Before
Christmas, Burnley managed seven straight wins at home, but these were punctuated by four
away defeats. A small measure of revenge was gained on Manchester United when Burnley
knocked them out of the Cup in January, but a poor run of New Year form in the League put
paid to any remote chances of promotion.
By February 1910, Spen Whittaker had to face the
frustrating fact that his Burnley side, with his beloved local lads, had once again failed
to make an impression on the Second Division promotion race. With the Cup run of 1909 a
fading memory, the folk on the terraces grew disillusioned. With the season as good as
over by the end of February, gates dipped to 4,000 as Burnley played out their remaining
fixtures.
With a spirit typical of his optimistic nature, Spen
didn't waste time or opportunity in trying to strengthen his squad. Once more it was to a
local prospect that he turned. Harry Swift was a promising centre-half with John Haworth's
Accrington Stanley, and Spen offered him a contract. Swift readily agreed, but pen was put
to paper too late in the day to register the player with the FA If Swift was to play the
next day in a big game against league leaders Manchester City, Spen would have to travel
to London on the overnight train. Obeying the call of duty, Spen duly set off on the
evening of Friday 15th April 1910.
The events of that night are truly terrible. Although
we will never know the precise details of the incident, it is thought that Spen, waking up
in his compartment and probably still half-asleep, mistook the door of the compartment for
the interior door opposite. Thinking he was stepping into the corridor, Spen actually
stepped out of the train. Furthermore, this happened at Whitmore, halfway between Stafford
and Crewe at a point in the journey when the train was travelling at its fastest, around
70 miles per hour. The alarm was raised at Stafford by the man who was sharing the
compartment, who claimed that he had awoken in the station to find the door open and the
window lowered. A search party was sent out from both Stafford and Crewe, and the driver
of a northbound train about to depart Stafford was also instructed to look out for Spen.
It was this driver who found the Burnley manager lying on the track.
Spen's injuries were horrific. His spine was badly
damaged, four ribs and both arms were broken, his collar bone and shoulder blade were
shattered and he had a deep, depressed fracture of the back of his skull. Incredibly, Spen
was still alive and was taken to Crewe where he received the attentions of a surgeon. He
regained semi-consciousness in the hospital and called for his wife, Bessy. A policeman
present asked him how he came to fall from the train. "I don't know, I cannot
tell," was Spen's reply. These were his last words. Despite a successful operation to
relieve the pressure of a displaced bone at the base of his brain, Spen died at 2 o'clock
on the afternoon of Saturday 16th April with his wife at his side.
It was a terrible, terrible tragedy and a wholly
unbefitting end to a fine man, a loving husband and a loyal servant of Burnley Football
Club. The game against Manchester City went ahead, the players aware only that their
manager had been hospitalised with serious injuries. Raising their game, they forced a 3-3
draw with the eventual Second Division champions. Two days later, with the shocking death
of Spen Whittaker now known throughout football, over 7,000 turned up for a home game
against Glossop. By means of a poignant tribute, Harry Swift made his debut. It was
perhaps the only way possible in the circumstances to salvage something positive and
tangible from Spen's death.
The club immediately organised a memorial fund for
Spen's wife and three young children, announcing in the Burnley Express that: "Mr
Whittaker has not only been an ideal football secretary, but a devoted husband and father.
When he came to Burnley, he was in receipt of £2 per week as wages, and has been a most
loyal servant of the club, never seeking his own advancement or advantage, but doing all
in his power to promote the well-being of the club and its players." The Burnley
Express itself donated 100 shillings, and a benefit match with Manchester United was
played on 27th April. Despite tension between the clubs, the game was played
without malice and was regarded by all as a fitting tribute to the memory of Spen
Whittaker.
John
Haworth
As sad as Spen's death was, Burnley Football Club had
to face the future and appoint a new manager. The Board sensitively waited until the end
of the season before advertising, and received around sixty applications for the job. From
this pack emerged John Haworth. He had no experience of League football, but had guided
Accrington Stanley from amateur obscurity to powerful semi-professional status, picking up
a number of trophies and championships along the way. It was perhaps his knowledge of and
dedication to the game that swung the vote of the Burnley board his way. Indeed, the
Burnley Express, perhaps sensing that the supporters were expecting a more glamorous
appointment, sought to emphasise this aspect of John's career as it introduced the new
Burnley manager to its readership:
Mr Haworth has had thirteen years' experience with
Accrington Stanley, and one gentleman who knows him intimately feels quite sure none of
the sixty applicants for the office held by the late Mr Spen Whittaker knew more about
football than the Stanley secretary. Accrington Stanley have had their ups and downs
during that period, and that is the sort of experience for making long-headed football
officials, men who require nowadays the knowledge and cuteness of a lawyer, coupled with
the address and finesse of a diplomat. All this Mr 'Jack' Haworth possesses. His personal
experience with the football clubs of Lancashire during his long apprenticeship
constitutes the best of all credentials. In the Accrington district, he was respected as a
man of tact and talent, for he can manage players with the velvet gloves and conceal a
will of iron.
This was a subtle piece of journalism that betrayed a
truth that could not be spoken: John Haworth was cut from a different cloth than Spen
Whittaker. This time Burnley had gone for a more sophisticated manager of men, a man of
the head rather than of the heart, someone capable of motivating players with the stick as
well as the carrot - moreover, someone who could use a combination of the two.
The Turf Moor that John Haworth found in July 1910 was
certainly in a far healthier state than that which confronted Spen Whittaker in September
1903. However, the club was still in the Second Division and the finances were still
precarious. Just as the Cup run of 1909 had lifted the club out of debt, the early Cup
exit the following season, coupled with a poor League campaign and low attendances had
dragged the club into the red once more. Burnley posted a financial deficit of £1974 for
season 1909-10, and the Board decided to decrease the wages of the players.
At a time when there was perceived to be a problem with
spiralling wage bills, this action by the Board provoked rebellion amongst some of the
senior members of the squad, and a few refused to sign their new contracts, threatening
instead to move South and play in the Southern League. It was, in fact, the Southern
League who were part of the problem, forcing up wages by demanding high transfer fees from
the Northern professional clubs whilst paying their players large appearance fees. This
led to an eventual deal between the Football League and the Southern League and the
imposition of a bonus system.
Eventually, Burnley came to an agreement with their
players, but the episode did not go down well with a public hungry for success. The week
after the team reported back for pre-season training, a letter appeared in the Burnley
Express, signed "An Old Member", which expressed doubts about the team's ability
to survive and which strongly berated the management: "I contend that the club has
not been managed on the right lines for many years."
This letter provoked a reaction from both sides of the
argument. In support of Old Member, another fan (under the less picturesque pseudonym of
"Football Enthusiast") wrote:
I am very pleased to notice that someone else had
mentioned about the way and manner of the directors. They don't seem to recognise the
meaning of a first-class team and first-class football. It is very plain to see that the
right kind of football is needed in Burnley, and when we do have it the club will prosper
very rapidly and the supporters will benefit by seeing something worth seeing, as there
are enough enthusiasts in this town to keep a First Division club well up in funds. If the
Burnley club ever mean to rise to the top of the second ladder, the directors' own common
sense might tell them they cannot do it with local players.
The question of whether young, local talent could
get the club out of the Second Division was clearly the most salient topic of discussion
amongst the supporters of the club. Given the state of the club's finances in 1903, the
criticism of Old Member does appear a little harsh, a point made by the author of another
letter:
The directors can never do right for some people.
Last year there was trouble for spending money; this year it looks as if there will be
trouble for not spending it. I think the directors have done the best thing they could do
during the past twelve months, that is building up a team of young players. If the
directors will keep to this policy of looking after and encouraging young players, letting
the other clubs look after the old 'uns, I don't think we shall be long before we are back
in Division I.
Old Member was unimpressed, writing again on the
eve of the season:
I want my old team to regain its prestige, and it
can only do this, in my opinion, by being composed of good men who will play for the
honour of the club as well as for the pay they derive from the game.
 At least no one could argue
with that point, and once again the town readied itself for a new season. As a sartorially
elegant John Haworth (left) lined up with his new team on the eve of the season, the
Turfites were resplendent in their new strip of claret and blue. John Haworth's first game
in charge saw the visit of Lincoln City on September 3rd, 1910, and the Imps
were sent home pointless following a 3-1 defeat. This was followed by two home draws and
an away win at Huddersfield. It was the best start for some time, but momentum was
gradually lost through a combination of too many home draws and an inability to
consistently find the net.
Nonetheless, John Haworth's first season in charge was
generally satisfactory. In the previous two seasons, Burnley had made fourteenth position
their own, both times losing eighteen of thirty-eight games. In 1910-11, Burnley had
managed eighth position, losing only ten games, and although the team had scored
considerably fewer goals, they had also conceded far fewer. Just as important was that
Burnley managed to go some way to regaining the faith of the town's supporters.
Attendances were up and stayed fairly buoyant, reaching 16,000 for the FA Cup visit of
Exeter City.
With the benefit of hindsight, the season was
particularly prescient for three reasons. Firstly, in October 1910 a famous Burnley name
established himself in the first team. Willie Watson took over Hugh Moffat's No.6 shirt
for the home game against Hull City, and wasn't to relinquish it until the closing weeks
of 1923. Secondly, in January 1911, Burnley began to show some FA Cup form, emulating the
run of 1909 by reaching the quarter finals where they again lost to the eventual winners,
this time Bradford City. Finally, in April, John Haworth gave the first indication as to
where his preferences lay with regard to the debate over Burnley's reliance on local
players.
Thanks to that season's FA Cup run, John Haworth had
some money in his pocket to try and alleviate the team's goal scoring problem. He caused a
sensation by going to First Division Everton and returning with two forwards, one of them
Bert Freeman, an England international only two years previously. 
Freeman (right) certainly did not possess the profile
of the typical Burnley signing. Without necessarily being the restless type, Freeman was a
footballing nomad, having plied his trade in all corners of the country - for Aston Villa,
Woolwich Arsenal and Everton. His reputation was cemented in 1909 when he finished the
season as the League's top goalscorer, scoring thirty-eight goals for the Everton side
that achieved the runners-up position behind Newcastle United. His form earned him
international honours, representing England against both Scotland and Wales, and he also
played for the North against the South.
However, by 1911 Freeman had fallen out of favour at
Goodison Park. He had made only eleven appearances for the Toffees that season and had
spent most of his time playing in the reserves. This was clearly an unsatisfactory state
of affairs for Freeman, but it was still quite a coup by John Haworth to persuade the
Everton man to sign for Burnley. Perhaps this was the first indication of the
"address and finesse of the diplomat" heralded by the Burnley Express upon his
appointment. That said, he could point to signs of real progress at Turf Moor. The Board,
boosted by a healthy operating profit, decided to construct a new stand along the Brunshaw
Road side of the ground at a cost of £5,000. This would be completed in time for the
start of the new season, 1911-12, which was to bring excitement and incident aplenty.
Phil Whalley
November 2000
Quietly Making History
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