The true cost of coal. Story based on true events.

The true cost of coal.

(A story based on true events).

Life was hard in 1909 for the inhabitants of Dilsborough as they tried to survive in a cruel world. Dilsborough, a coal-mining village, situated in the county of Durham, had endured many hardships and tragedies over the years: the cemetery is testament to that fact. Dilsborough pit provided work but a heavy price was paid in return. Peter Parker aged 12, a trapper, was killed in the 1890 explosion along with his father, brother Thomas, and 14 other miners. John Morgan, aged 11, a bank worker, fell down the shaft and was killed in 1895. Tommy Porter aged only 10, was killed by a runaway pony in 1901. These were just a few of the many inscriptions on headstones scattered throughout the cemetery. They paint a picture of the continuous horror associated with coal mining. Although many children are lying in those sacred grounds, they are more than matched by the graves of other, older miners who have been killed while earning a crust 'down pit'. It was hoped by all members of the community that life would improve from now on and that the cemetery would receive no more victims from the pit.

Certainly there was no thought of gloom in the mind of Jack Morton as he left his wife and family for work. This was an extra shift for Jack he was working overtime as Christmas was drawing near and he did not want the kids to suffer this year as they had in the past. There were 42 men in the pit that night most of them with the same festive incentive for working the extra Saturday nightshift.

The overman, Bill Pardue, deployed his men to various jobs throughout the mine, the bulk of them to the Main Coal seam. Jack Morton was deployed to clean up a small fall that had taken place earlier that day, as it was only a small fall and he could do the job on his own. "Oh, by-the-way Jack" Bill shouted, "the fall is near that piece of rock which juts out at head height, it's been a nuisance for years now, see if you can do anything with it after you clear the fall."

Jack nodded his head and set off down the Low seam main haulage roadway. It wasn't long before he was kicking up coal-dust as he trundled along; this roadway was covered in dust that came largely from the screening of coal from the Hutton and Harvey seams, near the top of the downcast shaft, the air descending that shaft, carried it part the way inbye to the haulage road. Dust had also been blown from the trucks of coal as they were drawn along the haulage road against the air current, and from loaded tubs while being raised in the downcast shaft.

This was the dustiest part of the Low Main seam but it was also the best ventilated and gas was never found here. As he travelled Jack was thinking of how to tackle second job he was given when he saw Bob Walker the shotfirer, " Hey Bob, I've got to shift that piece of rock sticking out down there, can you let me have a fuse and a couple of sticks of geloxite that should move it." "Don't see why not Jack, you're a qualified shotfirer." With that remark Bob handed them over and went on his way. "There's no gas around here Jack I've just tested, but you test yourself to make sure before you fire." "Will do Bob, thanks".

In no time at all the fall was cleaned up and the hole made safe with a few bits of timber. Now Jack was ready to drop that lump of stone; he was looking forward to removing it as he had knocked his head on it many, many times on his travels. Just one problem, thought Jack, I've no drilling gear to bore a hole. As he examined the projecting stone he noticed a small crevice just above the stone, "that'll do me, a stick of powder in there and we're in business." Looking round for stemming to cover the explosive charge he spied some belt roller grease, this he decided to mix into a paste by adding coal-dust.

"That'll hold the charge". Carefully Jack tested the air for gas, knowing, as he did there would be none; there never was gas in this intake roadway. He lit the fuse and moved 25 yards outbye to where he considered it was safe. He looked at his pocket watch, it was 11.00 p.m., tragically it was the last thing Jack did, the flame caused by the shot set up a horrendous explosion of coal dust the force of which killed Jack almost immediately. The explosive violence travelled mainly from the point of ignition outbye towards the mineshafts, it diverted slightly into the stables and up a slit road, then carried on for 40 yards past the shafts, where it burned itself out due to a lack of coal-dust. Four other men were working along this route, two were on roadway repairs, and one was working with his pony transporting materials in a tub, they all suffered terrible injuries by the explosive force that threw them against the sides of the roadway; they died almost immediately. The other man John Davis was working at the shaft-side, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The petering out of the explosion brought an end to the violent deaths of any more miners but another danger was present in the form of afterdamp, or chokedamp as it was often referred to. Four men who had been working further inbye in a snicket on the fringe of the explosion; slumped over and died as the deadly fumes reached them. Charles Mutter a master-shifter, was the official in charge of the Low Main seam, he was in the Stable way district on his way to the coalface when he felt a movement of the air, which he thought was a heavy fall of stone somewhere. He paid little attention to it and went about his work. Later he left the coalface at 1.20 a.m., travelling outbye with Herbert Price, a stoneman, they saw the bodies of the four men in the snicket; Mutter also found there was after-damp present in the air. They decided to go back to the face and warn the men there of the danger. This almost certainly saved their lives; if they had carried on travelling outbye they would have been overcome by afterdamp.

Word of a mishap had filtered through to fourteen men who worked in No. 4 East district; they rushed outbye seeking a safe passage to the out of the pit when they encountered foul air. William Partridge, a miner for 30 years, advised them to withdraw and follow him back to an old roadway that led to an old return airway. Four of the men shook their heads and carried on; they hurried out, hurrying to their deaths as the deadly fumes overcame them. Partridge successfully guided the others to a place of safety; here they waited uninjured until a rescue party reached them.

Meanwhile as all this was taking place, a newly formed mines rescue team from Ernswick in Newcastle, had been called out to render assistance. This team of six men were specially trained in the use of the "Proto" breathing apparatus; they were able, using this apparatus, to enter areas of the pit that contained impure air.

It was four and a half hours after the explosion when they arrived at the pit. They were informed that the cages in the downcast shaft could not be moved because the cages were fast in the shaft due to the explosion. However the cages in the upcast shaft were free and a descent was possible by this shaft. The rescue team, after studying the mine layout and fully fitted with breathing apparatus, and taking with them two canaries, descended the mine three hours after the explosion.

This was the rescue teams' first call-out and they were slightly apprehensive despite the fact that they had been training for six months for such an occurrence. They alighted the cage and travelled towards the Low seam intake roadway, keeping a careful eye on the two canaries to see if the atmosphere affected them. They arrived at the main intake without too much trouble; the ventilation doors they passed through were slightly distorted and were difficult to close after them. The canaries were showing no signs of distress what-so-ever, this suggested the air was safe to breath. The rescue men took no chances though and kept their breathing apparatus on.

They had travelled 500 yards up the intake when they came across the body of David Porter, a putter, close by was his pony; two repair men were a few yards away, there were clear indications that they had died from the violence of the explosion and their bodies were singed. 100 yards inbye were the 4 bodies of the men who refused to take William Partridge's advice; they were all just inside the stables road down which they had travelled. They had no visible signs of injury. Within a further 100 yards inbye they found the body of Jack Morton, his injuries were the most severe of them all, both from the force of the explosion and from the heat it generated; almost every bone in his body was broken and he was burned without mercy.

He was deemed to have been very near to the source of the explosion by the rescue team. Four more bodies were found 175 yards further inbye from the point of ignition, in the snicket; the explosion had mostly travelled away from them towards the shafts. However as the ventilation returned to its normal course after the explosion, it carried the foul air to them and killed them within minutes. Not a mark was on these men.

The air at every point travelled so far, was now good air; the canaries were still in good health. The afterdamp had been swept away and was diluted to a safe level. From this point on there were few signs of violence from the explosion. The rescue men had encounter only a few minor falls of ground on their travels and none at the source of the explosion. The Captain of the rescue team noticed a piece of stone projecting from the side of the road at head height approximately 25 yards inbye of Morton's body. Morton's efforts to remove the obstruction had ironically failed.

Twenty miners were eventually rescued from the Main Coal and No. 4 East seams and ten rescued along with William Partridge from the old return roadway he had guided them to.

When all the men, except one, were accounted for, John Davis could not be found, the rescuers inspected the Low Seam stables, 48 horses and ponies were found; all had sunk down quietly and died from inhaling afterdamp. It was a sad end to a very harrowing day for the new rescue team, but they had helped to save the lives of 30 miners and that was what they had trained so hard for.

The body of John Davis was found three weeks later in 20 feet of sump water. He had been blown down the shaft and suffered appalling injuries.

When the rescue teams work was over and they returned to their base hoping and praying they would never have to endure such events again.

The cemetery in the village of Dilsborough was once again the scene of immense sorrow as the 13 miners were buried one after the other, on the same day. Christmas would be extremely difficult again this year for the families and loved ones of the deceased. The Dilsborough Pit disaster was unique in a way; no one in the mining community believed that there could be an explosion without methane gas being present. Jack Morton proved, to his misfortune, that it could, his lethal charge, covered only with a grease and coal-dust paste was enough to lift coal-dust lying around and ignite it; with petrifying consequences.

The new mines rescue team carried on with their training programme; unfortunately they would not have to wait long for their next assignment.

Just after 2.00 p.m., February the 8th. 1910 people in the village of Banton, just north of Newcastle, felt a tremendous rumble and all the houses were shaken. Everyone rushed outside, eyes drawn to the location of the pit where a black cloud of smoke was rising menacingly from the main shaft. The streets were soon full of frightened men women and children running toward the pit.

Every street in the village had relatives who worked there and they feared for the safety of all those miners down the mine. When they arrived at the pithead they could see the headstocks were in ruins and nothing could be seen of the ropes that were attached to the cage. A dense cloud of black smoke and poisonous vapours continued to rise from the shaft.

No one was in any doubt about the critical situation concerning the men below. The rescue team was sent for without hesitation and they arrived at the pit within half an hour, luckily this time the team was only 5 miles from the Banton Colliery. The Manager and his officials quickly informed them of the their fears and told them that the mine shaft at nearby Craister Colliery was joined by a tunnel to Banton.

Quickly they were transported to Craister where the team descended the pit wearing their breathing apparatus and carrying a canary. The rescuers proceeded along the tunnel eventually penetrating the Banton workings and brought seven men out; they were alive and uninjured. As they advanced further, the canary became distressed; afterdamp was in this area so they retreated to allow the canary to recover and also to begin using the breathing apparatus that they were wearing.

They resumed their journey, minus the canary, progress was slow and difficult; the tunnels were filled with smoke and afterdamp but they continued hoping more men would be found further on. They located five bodies, all killed by afterdamp; their bodies were unmarked. The rescuers could see other bodies in the distance but it was clear they would not be able to remove them due to the dangers around them. The five bodies were transported along the tunnel to Craister shaft and taken up to the surface.

The rescue team were sure that the explosion had blocked the upcast shaft and that somewhere in the pit a fire was raging. Smoke and afterdamp was everywhere; randomly travelling the roadways, the fire raged in uncontrollable chaos. Further efforts to penetrate the pit workings were unsuccessful; the team tried and tried, even when their lives were in constant danger from further small explosions. Eventually they were forced to withdraw.

That night as the rescue team rested an explosion occurred that was so powerful it reversed the ventilation. The downcast shaft was now becoming the upcast shaft. If the rescue team had still been in the Banton pit end of the tunnel that connected the two pits they would surely have been killed. This explosion without doubt ended any hope of further rescues attempts. A substantial part of the mine was on fire; thick acrid fumes continued belching up out of the shaft that was once the downcast shaft. It was time to calculate how many men were still trapped underground. The number unaccounted for was seventy-two, tears swelled in the eyes of everyone as each name was read out one by one. Fathers, Sons, and Brothers were among those feared lost.

There were now extremely painful decisions to be taken, the hope of anyone surviving the turmoil below was at zero level; and there was no point in risking the lives of anyone else. Discussions were held between the miners' representatives, the Colliery owners and the Home Office. The only feasible solution that emerged was to flood the mine; it appeared to be the only possible method of dealing with the fire. The decision was taken with heavy hearts on all sides, and the flooding would begin immediately. Over the next two months million gallons of water were poured down the shafts. Throughout this period of flooding explosions continued, the violence of some equalling the violence of the explosion on the very first day.

Identification of the five bodies was a picture many would find difficult to forget; the bodies were laid out in a temporary morgue at the local hospital in Banton; widows, sons, fathers and mothers entered the morgue with heads bowed. The bodies were so dreadfully burned that identification was only possible through things they were wearing and items in their possession, such as boots, clothes, and watches. People waiting outside the morgue trembled and shook with grief as the continuous cries of anguish reached their ears. Banton cemetery received the five bodies a week later; but their comrades were not to join them there for another twelve months when the pit was pumped dry.

Speculation was rife as to the cause of the explosion, but no one could be certain as to what events took place that awful February day. Was it caused by shotfiring or a defective flame safety lamp? Had coal-dust played a part? Was gas from old workings responsible? In the end the explosion was put down to a mixture of gas and coal-dust that had been ignited by firing of a shot. However this was not a view shared by everyone.

The rescue team had long since returned to their base in Ernswick having played an enormous part in the rescue of seven men; they knew their task was not over as they would be required when the pit was pumped dry to recover the seventy-two bodies left in the pit. Sadly there was to be little respite for the team; soon word was received of yet another explosion. It was June 16th. 1910, this time disaster had struck at Brewster pit in Northumberland, 15 miles from Newcastle. The message reported that an explosion had blocked off the main roadway. 122 miners were trapped in workings on the inbye side of the main roadway and the situation was looking bleak for them. Only 5 men had escaped immediately after the explosion and before a raging fire had developed. If anyone was still alive, their passage to safety was blocked off; the return airway road was breached and full of poisonous fumes that would kill anyone inhaling it in minutes.

The rescuers arrived and they quickly entered the mine to assess the situation. When they returned to the surface they consulted with representatives of the management, the miners', and the H.M. Inspectors. A decision was made to try a rescue from two positions, two men to explore the possibility of entering the workings beyond the fire; however, the main attempt was to try to reach a junction that was 500 yards inbye on the main intake road.

If anyone was still alive this was seen as a place they might head for.

Just off the junction was a short road that was connected to the return airway; perhaps with Gods help survivors would be there. Fully fitted up with breathing apparatus the main party attempted to flush away the foul air by erecting brattice sheets; one set of brattice sheets in front of the other advancing the back sheets as a small section of the road cleared; they managed to advance but progress was slow. As they neared the junction their progress was stopped; the fumes were not clearing and the heat that was generated from the fire was too great for them to endure. Every yard they gained was soon lost and they were forced back two yards; the brattice sheets were red hot, too hot to touch. The lives of the team were in grave danger, and the risk of further explosions was a very real probability. Reluctantly they had to withdraw, it was a decision some of the team found hard to comply with, but they were trained to follow certain commands and with heavy hearts they headed outbye, away from the danger area.

Meanwhile the two other rescue men were not having much success either; having travelled the alternative route they forged their way forward through thick smoke; as they progressed the torches they carried could not penetrate the smoke but they stumbled on desperate to find a way through. The intensity of the heat caused their faces to blister; they too had to accept defeat and turned back. They believed also that more explosions would occur before very much longer. The rescue team arrived at the surface, heads looking towards the ground, they had failed to rescue anyone and it was a bitter blow for them to accept. Everyone knew they had given their all, and praised their heroic efforts; nothing more could be done and it was obvious to even the most sceptical, that nobody could survive the fire raging below. There was no point in risking further lives to bring out dead bodies.

It was decided to build a stopping in the main roadway in an attempt to starve the fire of the oxygen that was feeding the flames. Building materials were transported the stopping site and a 2 foot thick wall was built over the next three days. Nothing much else was done for the next three days, to allow time for the stopping to its job; then a party that included the pit manager, his assistant manager, the undermanager, and four members of the rescue team descended the pit to assess the new situation. They hoped to reach the section affected by the fire via the return airway. Airdoors that separated the intake and return airways were opened and four men wearing breathing apparatus entered the return airway carrying a canary. 200 yards up the return the canary became distressed and it was withdrawn to allow it to settle down. It was obvious that foul air was present so the canary was left behind. The group continued; encountering numerous falls on their journey, the heat was becoming unbearable and smoke was hampering their vision. They had travelled up the return road beyond the point were the intake stopping was, and were only a few hundred yards from the fire, but they could advance no further. The signal was given to retreat.

If the pit was to be saved the fire had to be extinguished; two more stoppings were erected, one in the return and another stopping in the intake. Only time would tell if the fire could be put out using this method. A further 4 months elapsed before an attempt was made to remove the stoppings and enter the explosion area of Brewster pit, falls of ground were everywhere, these had to be cleared away before the recovery of bodies was possible. The task of removing the bodies was soul destroying, the bodies were dreadfully decomposed. Once again, as it had been at Banton, identification was mainly through items carried by the dead miners.

The gallant efforts of seven men were recognised by being awarded the King Edward Medal of Valour. Four medals correctly went to members of the rescue team; but every man involved in the operations underground from the day of the disaster until the bodies were recovered, deserved a medal as big as a frying pan for what they had endured.

There was the usual inquiry in to the disaster and many mistakes had been made prior to the explosion. Serious indications of spontaneous combustion were ignored. A lot of the miners killed had feared something terrible would happen, they had told their friends about the smell of rotten eggs, gob-stink, and that the heat was unbearable in the pit; a few even mentioned seeing a red glow in the waste. If they had reported these worries to officials, their concerns, it seems, were ignored. Many wondered would happen next, had the miners and their families not suffered enough? Surely lessons would be learned from the hundreds of tragedies that had taken place over the years. Miners were being killed regularly, not always in large numbers, which were publicised in the newspapers, but in smaller groups of five or less. Each of these deaths was a disaster for the relatives, friends and loved ones of those killed. The media only seemed to concentrate on the 'bigger' disasters; they did not have to wait very long for their next story.

Mines rescue teams and stations were slowly being established all over England, Scotland and Wales in response to public concerns; rescue men in Wales were to be the next to be called upon. A violent explosion on the 14th February 1911 rocked the Old Pit, near Wrexham. The explosion took place in No. 4 level at 1.05 a.m. The miners had started work the previous day and were nearing the end of their shift when the accident occurred.

The Old Pit was not considered a gassy pit and this may have led to a certain amount of complacency among some of the miners. John T. Morgan liked a smoke and he always took his pipe with him, even when he went down the mine; he was not the only one who enjoyed a smoke, a few others preferred cigarettes, which they also took underground.

The ventilation was excellent in No. 4 level and gas was never found there during the officials' inspections. Morgan had smoked down the pit for over 15 years without any problems, he didn't smoke his pipe all shift, only for a few minutes when he was alone and away from any work colleagues. The management did not condone smoking and Morgan would have lost his job if they had found out.

If only he had been found out, seventeen men would not have lost there lives that day; for although gas had never been found in No. 4 level, it was most certainly present when Morgan popped his head into a manhole to light his pipe on that fateful Valentines day.

The resulting gas explosion propagated an even more powerful coal-dust explosion that swept throughout No. 4 level and into the adjoining levels causing numerous roof falls that buried six of the seventeen killed. Eight men were found alive; three of them dying from their injuries soon after their rescue.

The new Welsh rescue team were called out but their operations were hampered by large roof falls that had to be cleared to allow passage with their breathing apparatus. No other survivors were found inbye of the falls, those that escaped the violence of the explosion were killed shortly after by the afterdamp. Rescue operations very soon became recovery operations as they searched for, then brought out, the bodies.

Afterwards many suggested that familiarity had bred contempt for the rules of safety; cigarettes and matches were found in the pockets of two dead miners. It was only 15 minutes before the end of their shift when the explosion happened, if Morgan had waited for his smoke those miners would not have been killed.

We often hear the expression 'the price of coal', when miners are killed; these deaths were the price of one man's craving for a smoke; seventeen lives.

The scene on the surface was a familiar sight, relatives, friends and loved ones waiting, the silent vigil broken only by agonising wails as each dead body emerged from the darkness.

Two of the victims had worked at the pit for less than 3 weeks, both merely 14 years old. Interment took place on the Friday of the following week. Blinds were drawn across the windows; the usual token of respect for the dead and their families.

The streets were lined with people, heads bowed, every man and boy had removed their hats or caps as a sign of respect for the dead. The miners were all buried in a mass grave, coffins lined up side by side; they died together and they would remain together forever.

© W.H.Riley.