Saturday 11 February 2017

Utter cynicism about mining superstitions

Cure for Superstition.

Miners are known to be a superstitious race: their superstition, however, is sometimes made a pretext for idleness. There is a recipe for curing this species of the disorder. In some extensive mines in Wales the men frequently saw the Devil; and when once he had been seen, the men would work no more that day. This evil became serious, for Old Beelzebub repeated his visits so often, as if he had a design to injure the proprietor. That Gentleman, at last, called his men together, and told them, that it was very certain that the Devil never appeared to any body who had not deserved to be so terrified; and that, as he is determined to keep no rogues about him, he resolved to discharge the first man that saw the Devil again. The remedy was as efficient as if he had turned a stream of holy water into the mines.

Public Ledger and Daily Advertiser, 10th April 1819.

Ascension day superstitions

Thursday was carefully observed at the Bethesda slate quarries, not, however out of respect to the religious character of the day, but in deference to a superstition which has lingered for many years amongst the Penrhyn quarrymen, that working on Ascension Day, or Holy Thursday as it is better known in the district, was sure to be attended with a fatality or accidents of a serious charachter. Some six years back, the management succeeded in partly overcoming this feeling, and several of the men worked, an arrangement which was continued about two years. Strange to say, there was always an accident, and Ascension Day continues to be an idle day so far as the Penrhyn quarrymen are concerned.
Cheshire Observer,  24th May 1879



A Welsh Quarry Superstition.
Edinburgh Evening News, Friday 27th May 1881.
Superstition among quarrymen.
The old superstition which has existed for many years amongst the quarrymen engaged at Lord Penrhyn's extensive Carnarvonshire slate quarries, that working on Ascension Day is always attended with an accident, prevailed yesterday, and although, owing to the slackness of the market, the quarries have for some months been working only four days weekly, not a man went near yesterday. Seven years ago the management succeeded in persuading the men to disregard the superstition and go to work, but it was noticed that each year the custom was broken, serious accidents occurred.



Yesterday, work at Lord Penrhyn's slate quarries at Bethesda was entirely suspended, not out of any religious regard, but in deference to the belief that has long lingered in the district that working on Ascension Day is invariably accompanied by some serious accident. Several years ago the management induced the men to disregard this feeling, but every year there was an accident, and now not a man will venture into the quarries on "Holy Thursday," as it is locally termed.


Nottingham Evening Post, Saturday May 12th 1888.
Superstitions die hard. That Friday is a dies infausta is still a prime article in the creed of our sailors, and though you adduced all the practical disproof possible you could not get them to set sail with a light heart on the sixth day of the week. A similar superstition, it appears, exists in the Welsh slate quarries, but fortunately it only attaches to one day of the year, and not one in every week. Thursday being Ascension Day, the numerous workmen in Lord Penrhyn's slate quarries all suspended work, not because, being mostly Dissenters, they had any special regard for the sanctity of the day, but because there exists a lingering tradition, handed down from those early times when the old faith was still predominant, and the voice of the angelus was heard on every hill, that accident would follow labour on that day. Curiously enough a successful attempt to induce the men to ignore their traditions has more deeply rooted the superstition in their minds. Some years ago, it appears that the managers of Lord Penrhyn's quarries, after enormous trouble, succeeded in inducing the men to continue work on Ascension Day. But that year there was an accident - hardly a very marvellous occurrence where so many men are employed - and the consequence is that no man can now be persuaded to go near the quarries on Ascension day. [churnalism]




Lancashire Evening Post, 8th May 1891.





Thursday, being Ascension Day, there was a complete cessation of work at the Bethesda slate quarries. This is occasioned, not by any religious regard for the day, but because of the feeling long prevalent that work on Ascension Day is inevitably attended with accident. No quarryman will set foot in the quarries on that day. The slate trade is extremely brisk here and in other parts of Carnarvonshire.

Blackburn Standard,  25th May 1895.


Nottingham Evening Post, Friday 2nd June 1905.
Superstitious Quarrymen.
In deference to a superstition which has prevailed for many years, there was yesterday a complete cessation of work at Lord Penrhyn's quarries at Bethesda, where 4,000 men are employed. The superstition owes its origin to a succession of fatal accidents on Ascension Day. Some years ago the management succeeded in inducing the employees to remain at their posts, but, strange to relate, a fatal accident occurred, and now not a single quarryman will venture into the workings on what is locally known as Holy Thursday.


Nottingham Evening Post, Thursday 10th May 1923.
A Miners' Superstition.
Ascension Day, associated in many districts with the old-time ceremonial of "beating the bounds," has a sinister reputation among the Penrhyn quarrymen. There is a long-standing superstition that no work must be done in the quarries on this day or evil will result, and for many years, therefore, Ascension Day has been a day of idleness in Penrhyn.

Some years ago the managers did persuade a number of men to work, but, sure enough, a serious accident occurred, and since then the quarrymen have refused to risk a defiance of superstition.




Quarry owners yesterday intimated to the North Wales quarrymen that a free day in August will be granted to the men as compensation for working on Ascension Day in disregard of the old superstition that it is fatal to work on that day.
 Shields Daily News, 23rd May 1925.

 Western Mail, Saturday 28th May 1927.
Bethesda Quarrymen and Ascension Day.
Time was when the 3,000 quarrymen at Lord Penrhyn's Quarry at Bethesda declined to work on Ascension Day, not for any religious motive, but in deference to a superstition that work on that day would inevitably be accompanied by an accident. Fatal accidents did occur until the day was observed as a holiday, but gradually the men overcame the superstition and now work as usual that day. 

From Bingley's Tour Round North Wales

Manners and Customs of the Welsh.
From Bingley's Tour Round North Wales.

[extract]

The Roman Cavern, in Llanymynech-hill, called Ogo, has long been noted, as the residence of a clan of the fairy tribe, of whom the villagers relate many surprising and mischievous tricks. They have listened at the mouth of the cave, and have sometimes even heard them in conversation, but always in such low whispers, that their words have been never distinguishable. The stream that runs through it is celebrated as being the place in which they have been heard to wash their clothes and do several other kinds of work.

These busy little folk seem to be somewhat allied to what are called Knockers, which by thWelsh are believed to be a species of aerial beings, that are heard under-ground, in or near mines, who by their noises direct the miners where to find a rich vein. The following extraordinary account of them, is from a letter of Mr. Lewis Morris to his brother, Mr. W. Morris, Comptroller of the Customs of Holyhead, dated October 14th, 1754. I will make no comment upon it, and only preface it by observing, that Mr. Morris was a very learned and sensible man, and a person whose judgment is esteemed of great weight by every one who has been either acquainted with him or his writings.

"People who know very little of the arts or sciences, or the powers of nature, (which, in other words, are the powers of the author of nature) will laugh at us Cardiganshire miners, who maintain the existence of Knockers in mines, a kind of good-natured impalpable people, not to be seen, but h eard, and who seem to us to work in the mines; that is to say, they are types, or forerunners of working in mines, as dreams are of some accidents which happen to us. The barometer falls before rain or storms. If we did not know the construction of it, we should call it a kind of dream, that foretells rain; but we know it is natural, and produced by natural means, comprehended by us. --- Now how are we sure, or any body sure, but that our dreams are produced by the same natural means? -- There is some faint resemblance of this in the sense of hearing: the bird is killed before we hear the report of the gun. However this is, I must speak well of these Knockers, for they have actually stood my very good friends, whether aerial beings, called spirits, or whether they are a people made of matter, not to be felt by our gross bodies, as air and fire, and the like.

"Before the discovery of Esgair y Mwyn mine, these little people, as we call them here, worked hard there day and night; and there are abundance of honest, sober people, who have heard them, and some persons who have no notion of them or of miners either; but after the discovery of the great ore, they were heard no more.

"When I began to work at Llwyn Llwd, they worked so [?] there for a considerable time, that they even frightened some young workmen out of the work. This was when we were driving levels, and before we got any ore; but when we came to the ore, they then gave over, and I heard no more talk of them.

"Our old miners are no more concerned at hearing them blasting, boring holes, landing deads [sic], &c. than if they were some of their own people; and a single miner wiill stay in the work, in the dead of night, without any man near him, and never think of any fear or harm they will do him; for they have a notion that the Knockers are of their own tribe and profession, and are a harmless people who mean well. Three or four miners together shall hear them sometimes, but if the miners stop to take notice of them, the Knockers will also stop; but let the miners go on at their own work, suppose it is boring, the Knockers will go on as brisk as can be, in landing, blasting, or breaking down the loose; and they were always heard, a little from them, before they came to the ore.

"These are odd assertions, but they are certainly facts, though we cannot, and do not pretend to account for them. We have now very good ore at Llwyn Llwd, where the Knockers were heard to work, but have now yielded up the place, and are no more heard. Let who will laugh, we have the greatest reason to rejoice and thank the Knockers, or rather god, who send us these notices."

An intelligent friend of mine informs me that those noises the Knockers, as they are called, have very lately been heard in the parish of Llanfighangel Ysceifrog, in Anglesea, where they continued at different intervals for some weeks. In accounting for these noises it has been observed, that they probably may have proceeded either from the echo of the miners at work, or from the dropping of the water; but these seem by no means sufficient, if Mr. Morris's assertion be true, that while the miners are going on with one kind of work, they are going on with another, while for instance, as he says, the miners are boring, they are blasting, the former certainly cannot be true, and the blasting entirely puts the latter conjecture out of the question, for droppings of water could never produce any effect of that kind. As I am only acquainted with the subject from report, I am under the necessity of leaving the elucidation of these extraordinary facts to some who have better opportunities of enquiring into them. I have only to express a hope that the subject will not be neglected, and that those who reside in the neighbourhood where they are heard, will inquire into them carefully, and, if possible, give to the world a more accurate account of them than the present.

Chester Chronicle, 23rd January 1801.



Mining superstitions in the making

Among the Welsh Miners.
About Superstitious Beliefs.
(By a Cardiff Welshman.)

During my stay at Treglo a strange and somewhat startling story was going the round of the town. Some two miles from the place is a small mining hamlet, which we shall name Cwmdu, and it was here the strange story originated. From the common talk of the people I gathered that there had been living in the hamlet for a short period an old woman who appeared to be living a solitary life. At least no one seemed inclined to acknowledge any  knowledge of her past life, nor her mode of living, further than to state that she earned her living by hawking sundry small goods for domestic use.

The story circulated about the woman was to the effect that she had foretold a couple of fatal accidents which had occurred in the local colliery, and that she had followed up her "bit of prophecy" by predicting two colliery explosions at given dates, one at the Cwmdu mine and the other in one of the collieries of Treglo.

The "Prophecy" was the staple topic of discussion right throughout the district, and the effect on the minds of the people amounted almost to a panic. Every man and woman who came to Tom's shop knew the story, discussed nothing else. What seemed to add to the weirdness of the affair was the rumour circulated that the "strange woman" had suddenly disappeared from the district, no one knew where or when. So real and intense was the popular belief in the woman's prediction that I found it extremely difficult to laugh the matter off my mind, so it was not without peculiar interest that I waited the approach of the day which was to put a portion of the prediction to the test. The colliery were working, but I was informed that there was a good number of absentees. Many had made it convenient to be too indisposed for work, others had managed to arrive at the lamp-room too late to be allowed down. Wives had hid away their husbands' clothes, and daughters had implored upon their brothers to "Joke bad, for fear there is something in it."

This attitude was aptly illustrated by an intelligent old miner, whose acquaintance I had made.
"It's as well, perhaps, to be on the safe side. One never knows," he said; "strange things do happen sometimes. It's better to lose a turn than lose one's life after all, baint it, sir?"
I expressed my entire accord with his sentiments.
"Not that I believe in the old woman's story," he continued. "To tell you the truth, I believe the poor woman has been so frightened herslef by the effect on the popular mind of her attempt at prophyesying that she has cleared. Some say, though, that is only a temporary absence, necessitated by the circumstances, to arrange the details of the affair with the devil or some such power of evil. But to speak common sense, who knows how much this story has grown in the telling? I'll tell you a little experience of my own when I was much younger than I am.

"I was working in a small level in this district before the pit here was sunk, and before we had such a lot of houses. The way to work was very lonely indeed. We had to pass an old stone quarry which was known far and near as being the favourite resort of a spirit popularly known as The White Lady. I was working night at the time I am speaking of. My mother was dead, and the home was looked after for my father by a young girl, married and living close by me now, who had her fair share of belief in the existence of the White Lady. My father, I ought to say, worked the day shifts, and, as I have said, I was working night with another collier as a 'boy'.

Well, Mary forgot to call me in time, and as a result it was quite dark when I was about to start to work. Poor Mary was almost hysterical. She knew my father would be annoyed if I did not go to work, and she felt, on the other hand, that she was driving me into some unknown land, where all trace of my existence would be for ever lost. It was blowing a little, and I could not carry a naked light, such as we worked with in the level, so Mary placed a candle in a tin lantern, and thus equipped I started on my journey. To admit the honest truth, I was very nervous when approaching the famous spot, although I tried to think as hard as I could of the impossibility of such strange things as spirtis retorning.

When opposite the quarry a novel idea took possession of me. I swung the lantern to and fro and challenged the White Lady to make her appearance to an unbeliever. This, perhaps, in the agony of suspense, and with a view of giving some effect to my boyish courage. I don't know what was the cause, but the result was that I found myself in darkness, running over a rough and hilly road with a feeling of some terrible phantom following at my heels. I reached the level, and getting to the spot I worked in, fell breathless into the arms of my 'boss'. There was little done for awhile, the workers were so busy expressing their sympathy with me in being sent to work in the dark by that 'hard-hearted Mary.' However this passed off, when I assured them, in my calmermoments, that it was only a bit of fright at being left in the dark, as the result of my indiscretion in swinging the lantern.

But the best part remains, and this is what I want to tell you, sir. I got home all right in the morning and Mary welcomed me, as if I had returned from the dead. With a view of impressing her with the desirability of calling me in due time in future, I told her if she knew ho I had been frightened at the old quarry, she would never forgive herself, and so forth. I went to bed, and, as was my habit, got up about midday for dinner, when I was surprised to find quite a houseful of womenfolk chatting - a regular Babel of tongues - with Mary. No sooner did I make an appearance than they swarmed around me like so many bees, pestering me for fully an hour with all sorts of strange questions. You know how the lawyers in the police courts cross-examine an unfavourable witness. Well that's how they went for me.

At last I commenced to doubt my own story. It had assumed such a weird character. Well the result of this was that a rumour went throught the village like wildfire that I had been nearly crushed to death by a 'spirit funeral' on my way to work, the story invariably ending with the sympathetic comment, 'What a wonder the young lad wasn't carried to the parish churchyard, and never heard of any more.' About a month or so after a real funeral - not the first - passed the quarry on its way to the churchyard, and by some method peculiar to the people it was demonstrated beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was the identical one I had seen in its spirit form!

That's how the stories grow, you see," continued my collier friend; "and it is quite possible that this yarn of the prophecy of the old woman is simply the outgrowth of a silly remark which she may have made to some superstious person. A dream as likely as anything, sir, for we are great believers in dreams as warning."

The scare created by the predictions brought forth a good crop of ghost stories of various forms and degrees of credulity, some of which were extremely interesting as showing the lengths to which the people can go at times. Despite the characteristic religious turn of the Welsh mind, there is manifested periodically a peculiar susceptibility to the most extravagant forms of superstitious belief. The science in the religion of Spiritualism as taught in scores of homes, and in public at Cardiff, is practically unknown in the Hills. Although an open belief in Spiritualism as a scientific truth, or form of religion, would result in social ostracism, there is a very widespread belief in the supernatural. During my stay I fraternised with people to whom the gymnastic feats of circus performers are nothing more nor less than the "work of the devil;" but who would assert as probable the tallest ghost story imaginable.

South Wales Echo, 13th February 1896.

Compensation vs superstition

A Ghost in the Mine.
Remarkable Claim for Compensation.

One of the most remarkable claims under the Workmen's Compensation Act has been heard at the Tredegar County Court, the Judge reserving his decision.

Frederick George Shellard, a lad aged fourteen years, was in the employ of the Powells Tillery Steam Coal Collieries Company in May last. He was a pit boy, earning 10s. a week as an assistant to his father, a collier. On one occasion the father sent him to get what is known as a "stick."

Amid the gloom and loneliness of the colliery the lad says that he suddenly felt something brush past him and he was confronted by two glaring eyes. This greatly terrified the lad, for most miners are exceedingly superstitious. He cried out to his father to come and help him, and was so overcome by what he regarded as an apparition that he had to be taken home.

The Judge suggested that the eyes were those of a cat, but the solicitor for the lad did not readily assent to this explanation.

Three days afterwards the father took the boy again to the colliery, with a view to convincing him that there was nothing to alarm him. So great was the shock, however, that the boy had not been able to work underground since. The medical evidence showed that the lad now suffered from St. Vitus's dance, brought about by fright.

Compensation was claimed at the rate of 5s. 3d. a week, but the company repudiated liability

Leeds Mercury, 22nd January 1904.

Wednesday 8 February 2017

Superstitions at the Universal Colliery, Senghenydd

The Welsh colliery disaster, for the firends of the victims of which the whole working class population of this country have felt the deepest sympathy, has been the means of reviving some very curious superstitions amongst the mining population, which were once general. It will be well known that the doings of certain birds under certain conditions have been held to be unfailing signs of calamity. Hence it used to be held that a robin on the doorstep was a certain sign of death in the house. So also our forefathers used to say that the settling of rooks in the street was a sure sign of a death amongst the people living in it. Amongst miners superstitions of this character are even now much regarded. So it happens that the folk in the neighbourhood of the Senghenydd disaster believe that Providence had given the poor victims of the explosion a prophetic warning by means of birds of the frightful disaster which overtook them. For several days a dove is said to have been seen hovering over the frame of the pit, and refused to go away from the mouth of the pit at night. Again, it is stated that a flock of crows flew about the pit a few days before the disaster, and that on the night before the explosion actually took place they were seen to settle in the streets of a neighbouring village, beat their wings in flight against the windows, and otherwise signal by unusual conduct in the fraternity of rooks the impending calamity. It will be observed that this latter superstition is similar to that believed in by our own Warwickshire grandparents with regard to rooks. [...]

Warwick and Warwickshire Advertiser. 29th June, 1901.

Nantymoel pigeon at the Wyndham pit.

Miners' Superstitions.

Welsh colliers still retain a firm belief in omens. It will be remembered that after the Llanbradach explosion one of the rescue parties found a robin in the mine, and the workers in the pit felt convinced there had been a "Jonah on board." A strange incident has occurred this week at Nantymoel. A resident of that little mid-Glamorgan mining town was the possessor of a valuable pigeon, which he "freed" for the first time on Sunday. It did not return. On Monday morning, when the colliers employed at the Wyndham mine approached the shaft, they saw the bird perched upon the framework. A considerable section declined to descend the pit, until the bird was removed, convinced that the pigeon was a bird of ill-omen.

Sheffield Evening Telegraph, 4th October 1901.

Knockers and other Little People: Cornish Miners' Superstitions

By John Lavington.
Special to "The Western Morning News and Mercury."

Among Cornish mining superstitions most prominent place must be given to the belief in the tribes of small people, usually known as "knockers," who are supposed to live and work in the mines. "Knockers" are akin to brownies and pixies, and are rumoured to be "little, withered, dried-up creatures," about the size of children a year old, having heads disproportionately big for their bodies, ungainly limbs, and small, squeaky voices.

In North Britain and Ireland they are supposed to be benevolent demons, too good for hell but not good enough for heaven. By some in the Western peninsula they are supposed to be the spirits of an ancient people who inhabited Cornwall. Formerly they were much larger, but since the time of Christ they have become smaller and feebler, and it is supposed that they will ultimately become extinct - which in one sense, no doubt, is true.

By others they are supposed to be the spirits of the Jews who crucified the Christ, and who were condemned to live and work in the deep levels of the mine. On certain festivals, such as Easter, All Saints' Day, the Jewish Sabbath, and Christmas Day, they were allowed to rest, but on Christmas Day they were compelled to sing carols. Stories are told of these who have heard the sweet, unearthly music of the knockers as they have sung their carols in the depths of the mine.

Generally the knockers were supposed to befriend the miners by assisting in their labours and signifying the presence of rich lodes - for the knockers were never heard except where there was an abundance of rich mineral - but if treated disrespectfully they could be very vindictive and cause great ill-luck. Consequently they were regarded with a certain amount of reverence by the miners, who sought to propitiate them by leaving a part of their dinner on the ground for their enjoyment. Similarly, fishermen left a fish upon the sands for the pixies, and harvesters scattered bread from their lunch and spilled a few drops of ale upon the ground for them.

Many old Cornish miners can tell of the prognostication of the knockers, whose noises came through the dark workings of the mine, sometimes like the beating of the borers or the roiling of barrows, and sometimes like the falling of rock, and even the dull metallic clink of ripe ore.

In connection with the Wheal Rodney Mine, near Marazion, an old miner recently told me the following story:--
"A miner named P-- and his son were at work in one of the levels which for some days had proved very unremunerative, but they continued to dig in the hope that they would again find the lode. They were busily working one day, when they heard someone throw down a 'bag of drills' in a working near by which had long been considered 'dead.' The old man expressed surprise that anyone should take the sett, and their curiosity was further aroused by the sound of vigorous working there.
"At last the old man's curiosity got the better of him, and he told his son to throw down his tool 'and we'll gone and see what to'ther fellow's about.' When they reached the old working they found neither miner nor signs of work, and the old sett appeared as for months past. 'Them must have bin the knockers,' said the old man. 'We'll knack ovver there and see if we can do better here.' After some ridicule the captain gave them permission to work the sett, when they quickly discovered that the 'knockers' had led them aright and an exceptionally rich lode was found."

Another story tells of a miner who was going to his work along one of the levels, when he was suddenly surprised by the sound as of someone "shooting ripe ore from a sack" just by his side. He looked about, but plainly no one could be near, as the level was narrow and straight and could be clearly scanned by the light of his lamp. As he turned to continue his journey he again heard the sound and noted its direction. It seemed to proceed from a large shaley piece of rock, which he pulled down with his fingers. Imagine his surprise when there "rolled at his feet a pile of ripe, red copper, like cinders."

An amazing story was published in "The Western Morning News" some years ago under the title of the "Wendron Treasure Hunt." An old lady living at Wendron was alledged to have been visited on several occasions by the "little people." When she eventually summoned courage enough to inquire why they troubled her, she was told to break down the plaster at one part of the house and a secret passage would be discovered, and if she dug deep enough much treasure would be found.
An attempt was made to recover the treasure, but while nothing was found that could possibly be described as treasure, the amazing thing is that at the place indicated by the little people a secret passage leading to the earth was actually found hidden by the lath and plaster. Several of the men who pursued the search are still living, and one of them from whom I recently had the story, still firmly believes that the treasure would have been found if only the landlord had granted the facilities required to prosecute the search!

The knockers are not confined to the Cornish mines, but are said to inhabit the coal mines of Wales. The coal mines of the north are said to be frequented by elves, - some of which are helpful tothe miners, but others are mischievous sprites.

The "duergars" of Scandinavia and the "kobolds" of the German mines are akin to the knockers, but unlike the knockers of the Cornish mines, which were usually friendly, the kobolds and duergars were frequently antagonistic to the miner, delighting to frustrate his work at every opportunity. In the mines in Africa and America, the earth is said to "talk," and there is probably some affinity between such "earth talks" and the "knockings" of the Cornish mines.

Ghosts were not unknown to haunt the mines, as is evidenced by the name of one mine - Wheel Sperris, the haunted mine - near St. Ives. Robert Hunt in his "Popular Romances of the West of England," published a story of a ghost which was supposed to frequent Polbrean Mine. A woman named Dorcas committed suicide by throwing herself down the mine, and for some time after her spirit haunted the place. She seems to have been of a malevolent turn of mind and delighted to torment the miners by calling their names and hindering them in their work. This occurred so frequently, that the miner who was unfortunate in his work was proverbially spoken of as "chasing Dorcas." On one occasion, however, Dorcas is said to have redeemed her character. Two miners were boring in an end, when the name of one of them was clearly heard between the blows. Hoever, when they listened, they could hear nothing. On resuming the boring the name was heard again, and when they took no notice it was again pronounced, but so vehemently that the man threw down his hammer and went to see who called him. Immediately he did so a huge granite boulder fell upon the spot where he had been standing, completely covering his companion, who, however, was taken out alive.

No doubt there are physical explanations for most of the basal causes of these superstitions. The miner laboured in an environment which lent itself to tales of the weird and uncanny, and in an atmosphere decidedly sepulchral and ghostly. If to-day we still feel unhappy at the sight of a single magpie or a broken mirror, and uncomfortable in the company of twelve other persons, let us be tolerant of those superstitions which enthralled the untutored minds of our fathers, and which here and there still exert their paralysing grip of fear upon the credulous and ignorant.

Western Morning News, 20th March 1922.



Some other people's ideas stranger than the miners'?

Miners' Superstitions and Prejudices. Pit-Head Baths.

The general public must often have wondered why there is no provision made at collieries for miners to wash off the dirt after work, so that they might travel home through the streets looking clean and neat. This question was discussed at the meeting of the North Staffordshire Institute of Mining Engineers at the Central School of Science and Technology, Stoke-on-Trent, on Monday, and it arose out of a paper read by Mr. James B. Sproston, M.C., who is chief assistant to Mr. Arthur Hassam, the well-known consulting mining engineer.

Mr. Sproston advanced two reasons as to why objection would be raised to compulsory baths at pit-heads by miners. They were superstition and prejudice, and while he thought the former was existent to a greater extent in some districts than in others, he believed the latter was quite general. An old superstition in North Staffordshire and in other parts of the country was that if a man washed his back it became weak, while another belief was that if a man washed his back in the middle of the week an accident would ensure.

Mr Sproston advocated modern installations of baths, and declared that since demobilisation men were less inclined to object to washing, having been inculcated with habits of cleanliness in the Army. A miner coming from the pit to the surface, bathed in perspiration, rendered himself liable to illness, and baths would obviate this. Mining, however, was generally a healthy occupation.

Mr. J.R.L.Allott, the President, recalled the fact that in 1913 general regulations were made in regard to the establishment of pit-head baths in this country, but baths had not been installed with few exceptions. An interesting point Mr. Allott made wass that the installation of baths would produce a domestic revolution in the miners' homes of the country, and while the cost would be considerable, they must not altogether forget that the health of the workers was the primary duty. The proposal was that the employer and the workman should share the cost of the baths. He believed it would certainly be conducive to better work if baths were installed.

An important and interesting letter was read from Dr. J. S. Haldane, the famous mining physiologist, who stated that in his opinion the Miners' Federation had failed in not using its influence to bring pit-head baths into existence. He did not attach much importance to pit-head baths from the point of view of the health of the miners, because mining was a very healthy occupation. The important factor was the effect of cleanliness on home life. "Coal miners and their families lose also very seriously in social standing owing to their dirty appearance in public," added Dr. Haldane, "and the dirt is apt, unless great efforts are made by their wives, to invade thier homes. Those who go about the streets and in public conveyances with dirty faces and clothes suffer inevitably in public estimation, and tend to be regarded as of a lower class. Mining is a skilled occupation, requiring and actually evoking, not only greater intelligence, but also moral qualities of the highest order. Those who know what a good miner is can see the intelligence and moral qualities through the dirt on a miner's face and clothes; but to the world in general a dirty miner is apt to appear as no better than other dirty and untidy persons.

A colliery, as the source of so many dirty and untidy persons, suffers correspondingly in public estimation; whereas, by rights, coal-mining ought to be esteemed as an occupation, which, taking it all round, is second to none in this country." Dr. Haldane added that he felt convinced that the absence of pit washing and changing was at the root of the troubles of coal-mining in this country.

Staffordshire Advertiser. 26th March 1921.

Sarky hyperbole vs miners' superstition in the 1920s.

Miners' Superstitions.

Yesterday saw the finishing touches to the settlement of the coal dispute -  a settlement which is to be operative, including the "carry over" period of the subsidy, for eighteen months! The voting in districts has resulted in 832,840 votes for the signing of the agreement and immediate resumption of work, and 105,820 against. This is decisive enough and serves to show that the miners are abundantly consoled by the readjustment of wages and the profit-sharing clause for the defeat of the "national pool."

Now that the miners are going back to work, it is earnestly to be hoped that they will work. "The will to work," as the "Daily Telegraph" sagely remarks, is the greatest need of the day. Ca-canny on the one hand, and the frivolous love of play on the other, are menacing the whole future of the country. There is no class more addicted to making a pretence of work than the miners, whose inflated wages in the recent past have enabled them, or a considerable section of them, to spend as much time in sport and joy rides as in getting coal. This spirit of thoughtless and idle levity will have to be checked very considerably if coal is to be procured at a price that will enable us to recover our manufacturing interest, now shaken and weakened in all the markets of the world.

Though only very slightly connected with the economic aspect of the industry, an article in "The Occult Review" is worthy of some attention before these men pass out of the newspaper lime-light. It seems that, a generation ago, miners as a class were very superstitious, and queer notions of "forebodings" of evil still in some degree persist. Mechanical improvements, as well as education, have had a good deal to do in killing such notions.

Life in a coal pit today is much less eerie than was the case a quarter of a century ago, much less uncomfortable, and decidedly less dangerous. It is, of course, impossible to eliminate danger altogether, and the very efficiency of the management may in some circumstances add to the risks. Human nature is apt to be careless in the presence of known peril, and the knowledge that there exist precautions for minimising risks may occasionally breed that contempt which is the child of familiarity. Speaking generally, however, there is to-day a stronger sense of safety, and less superstition among miners than there used to be. As might be supposed, most of the old superstitions were on the gloomy or fearful side. They took the form of a strong objection to working in the mines on certain days of the year - a feeling probably religious in origin and inherited from Roman Catholic times. A notably "unlucky" day for working is Ascension Day: and a certain mine in South Wales has a tradition of accidents that invariably occurred in the past to those who persisted in working on that festival. We can only hope that the spell has been broken by the long strike, and that the miners will not allow either frivolity or superstition to impede their highly necessary labour.

 Gloucestershire Echo, 2nd July 1921.

Occult review indeed. Menacing the whole future of the country indeed. Pff.

Tinners' Omens

A Cornishman who works in his native tin or copper mines must never be addressed as a miner, or trouble will promptly ensure. This is because such a designation might cause him to be confounded with other underground workers, colliers in particular, and the clannish Cornishman esteems himself, with or without reason, to be of an altogether higher social standing than "darty coalers". But then the true-bred man from west of the Tamar has no doubt that his race is vastly superior to any outlandish foreigners from up the country, no matter what their rank or dignity may be.

Although the tinner has not the explosive firedamp to dread, yet the deep Cornish mines have their own dangers, no less swift and sudden. Many run out far under the sea, so that the crash of breaking waves thunders incessantly overhead. In very ancient times, the Phoenicians and they that dwelt in Tyre traded with the Celtic folk of Cornwall for tin and copper, then lying near the surface; there were shipping-places on islands round the coast where the metal was brought by the country folk, who jealously guarded the sources of their wealth. St Michael's Mount, the Island of St. Ives, the Chapel Rock at Perranporth, and even lordly Tintagel itself, were among the most notable of these stations.

Marazion, or Market Jew, was so called by the Jewish slaves, who were sent by the Carthaginians and Romans to work in the mines, the former name signifying "the bitterness of Zion." Tradition tells that the souls of these unlucky ones, because of their unbelief and also of their nefarious practices as tinners, are still condemned to toil underground, as they did in life, until the end of all things. They are known as the Knockers, or Buccas, and the belated or solitary tinner often hears the tap of their ghostly pickaxes; but this is not altogether an alarming sound, for wherever the Knockers work, the ore is certain to be plentiful and of excellent quality. Sometimes they will do a kindness to a mortal who has worked side by side with them for years, not doing anything to offend their sensitive feelings, but they are oftener malicious, and their vengeance is swift.

For this reason tinners object to the sign of the Cross being made underground, as the holy symbol irritates the Knockers. A stranger, going through the levels, made a cross on the wall by an adit, or opening, that he might know his way, for he had to return alone. He was directly implored by the men, his guides, to alter the mark into another form, for a cross would certainly bring ill-luck to the mine. Notwithstanding this, the Piskies, another tribe of Cornish spirits, who have hopes of ultimate salvation, meet at Christmas Eve at the bottom of the deepest mines, when exquisite music may be heard, with choirs of unearthly voices singing, "Nowell, Nowell." The Knockers sometimes betray the presence of an unsuspected lode of ore, from strange noises being heard underground, as of miners at work, in places where there is no mortal shaft. Houses built over such spots are subject to uncanny hauntings.

In a life of constant, unforeseen peril, it is natural that supernatural warnings should be eagerly watched for. To meet a red-haired woman or to see a hare run across the path when going to work is an evil omen, and many a man will forfeit a day's pay rather than go underground after such a token. At Wheal Vor a fatal accident was always presaged by the appearance of a white hare or rabbit in one of the engine-houses. This mysterious animal has often been chased in the enclosed space by the men - no dog dares join the hunt - but always escapes. On one occasion it dodged into an unused pipe lying on the ground, and stopped at the farther end, exactly as a living rabbit might have done. Secure of their prey, the pursuers rushed to the spot, only to find the pipe empty, and all trace of their quarry vanished.

The Seven Whistlers, why seven no man can tell, for they are invisible, also warn the tinners against decending in the face of impending danger, by strange, musical whistlings heard in the air at the shaft's mouth.

At Wheal Vor, there was once an accident in one of the engine-houses, not that where the white rabbit is seen, which resulted in the death of a man and boy, their remains being burned in the furnace. From that moment troops of little black dogs haunted the spot, seeming to issue from the furnace when all the doors were shut. No bribes nor threats would induce the men to be left alone in such company, and it was even difficult to get hands to work this machine.

At another mine there was, or is, an apparition known by the gruesome name of the "Dead Hand." This is seen in a deserted shaft, long unused, and is always the forerunner of misfortune. In the evening dusk a faint glow shines from the shaft, and those bold enough to walk up to its edge may see a man's hand moving up or down the empty hole, as though someone were climbing where no ladder has stood for many a day. This had grasps a miner's candle, fixed in a ball of clay in the usual manner, the spectral gleam falls upon the hand, though no other part of the body is visible. The light has the irregular motion of a candle hld by a man who grasps stave after stave of a ladder while his finger and thumb clasp the clay socket. Tradition tells how an unlucky tinner, who did not bear the best of characters among his fellows, while ascending alone, was seized with giddiness, tripped, and fell. Though he was buried with Christian rites, yet the appearance was first seen soon after his death; and his late comrades, terrified, took the trouble to sink a new shaft rather than pass the ghostly hand upon the narrow ladders.

Saint Perran is the patron saint of tinners and is said to have invented their banner, a white cross on a black ground, symbolising the black tin ore and the white metal. Some think it was he who first taught the Cornish folk to "stream" for tin. But he lived in the fourth century after Christ, so it is difficult to reconcile this with the other legend of the Tyrians who traded in Cornwall in the days of King Solomon. Be this as it may, Saint Perran was a man of great local importance in his day, for many villages are called by his name, such as Perranzabuloe, Perranawhorthal, Perranuthnoe, and Perranporth. There is a story that he sailed the seas from Ireland sitting miraculously upon a floating mill-stone, so perhaps his history is not to be entirely accepted without question.

However, one evening when the holy man was cooking his supper, he took a large, heavy black stone for one side of his fireplace. This primitive stove burned with intense heat, and suddenly a stream of brilliant white metal flowed from the block of ore. The Saint rejoiced; and called the Cornishmen together that they might celebrate his discovery with feasting. This they did with much zeal, consuming their national drinks of mead and metheglin in such quantities that "Drunk as a Perraner," passed into a proverb that remains to the present time. This event took place on the second Thursday before Christmas, since called Pierous Day, and still kept as the tinners' holiday.

The Globe, 17th September 1902.





Miners' Superstitions (Northern Ireland)

By R. Walker.

Among some of the most curious superstitions still existing to-day are those to be found in mining districts. In some districts, if a man stumbles on leaving the cage at the bottom of the shaft, it is considered a very bad omen, and he, and perhaps his mates, will at once return to the bank. When a new hand is taken on at a pit, he should never go down with the first shift. If he does he is asked to go up again and come down with the second or, more probably, is sent home till the next day.

In some pits it is the unwritten rule that the lamp must not be carried with the left hand - yet in others the left hand is preferred. It is considered unlucky to lose the card of rules issued to each man, and these pieces of pasteboard are often framed and hung in the cottages to ensure that they are safe.

A white cat walking along a street in a mining village is a sure forerunner of evil - so they believe - and it stands little chance of escaping should some of the mining lads get hold of it.

When a new seam or cutting is started, the first man who strikes his pick into the "face" of the coal is careful to tear a small piece of cloth from his clothing and leave it on the spot. A strange custom, this; one cannot help wondering how it first came about.

Shoud miners hear the crowing of a cock at a distance they regard it as a sure sign that some accident will happen in the workings. Strange noises and voices in the mine are often spoken of. The sound of singing is of good augury, but that of moaning is regarded as sinister. Should miners meet a woman with a squint when on their way to work, they regard it as a sign that some evil is on the way.

In many pits strangers visiting the workings are always accompanied by two of the miners in addition to an official. If this rule is broken, it is said, ill luck is sure to follow. One must never refer to the dangerous character of a miner's work when actually in the workings. Above the ground, however, one can speak of it quite freely without their regarding it as unlucky.

Belfast News-Letter, 4th September 1935.


Monday 6 February 2017

French miners' superstitions

The French mind is essentially material. Would not the more mystic Celt or Anglo-Saon feel a superstitious thrill cross his mind when he saw, surging from the silence and the night of the fatal galleries where he knew all was death and decay, spectral forms in the "unlucky number" of thirteen? Yet the legends of the mine exist in France.

The miners in Zola's "Germinal" fear the "Black Man" who lurks in the black recesses of the galleries. The fire-damp was once supposed to be the vengeance of some Pluto-like lord of the underworld, jealously guarding his black diamonds. Even now, some of these northern miners will talk of the "bianque besse," the white bat which is seen flitting, banshee-like, among the workers before the dreaded explosion takes place, or of the white snow-like flakes which are harbingers of the same terrible danger.

In Central France the "little miner" is a kobold who plays Puck-like tricks on the men. Does a lamp go out, a tool break, a piece of timbering fall on a miner - he apostrophises the mischievous elf whom he suspects to be playing these practical jokes.

The "Vieux Garcon" (old bachelor) is another legend. When the new shift is coming down in the cage, and all should be silence, the men hear the pick resound, the "bennes" rolling along the rails and savage cries of "Ratata!" Then comes a crash, as if all had been destroyed. But when the gallery is reached, all is in order - it is but the "Vieux Garcon."

The same sprite is supposed to haunt the Breton mines, but here he plays a more useful role. He watches over the miners and by ghostly blows of the hammer (heard but never seen), he indicates where timbers are rotting and danger lurks. Let us hope this belief does not lead to that neglect which, in a mine, is apt to be so tragic in its results. -- "T.P.'s Weekly."

Belfast News-Letter  17th April 1906.

More Cornish mining traditions by Herbert Richards.

About a century ago, when mining was in full swing in Cornwall, Cornish miners were very superstitious. To this day many of the old beliefs remain.

In the old mining days it was considered unlucky to make the form of a cross on the side of a mine, and on no account must one whistle for fear of vexing the "knackers" and by so doing bring ill luck; but one could sing or even swear, without producing any ill effect.

In one mine, a black cat was often seen to descend, but was never seen at the bottom of the mine. A white rabbit forbode an accident; a hand clasping the ladder and coming down with or after a miner foretold misfortune.

Snails were known in West Cornwall as bullhorns and if a miner met one on his way to the mine he always dropped a bit of his dinner or some grease from his lantern before him, for good luck.

Strange dreams were sometimes related, warning miners from going underground on certain days with their comrades, when serious accidents have happened and many miners lost their lives.

Rich lodes, too, were said to have been discovered through the dreams of fortunate women who have been shown in them where their male comrades should dig for the hidden treasure.

A miner going down the mine with his shoes on would drive all the mineral out of the mine.

In 1886, at St. Just-in-Penwith, two men of Wheal Drea, had their hats burnt on Monday morning after the birth of their first children.

Three hundred fathoms down at Cooks Kitchen Mine, near Camborne, swarms of flies, known by the miners as Mother Margarets, could be heard buzzing, being bred in the dark; they had a great dislike to light.

Swallows were said to spend the winter in deep and disused Cornish mines. It was their custom to sing at seeing the first swallow appear.

A water-wagtail, called by miners "a tinner," perched on a window-sill, was the sign that a stranger was coming. Part of an old song often sung by miners was: "Here's to the Devil
With his wooden spade and shovel,
Digging tin by the bushel
With his tail cocked up."

Dowsing in West Cornwall with a hazel was used to discover a vein of ore. The twig was held closely in the hand, the point towards the dowser's breast. It turned round when the holder stood over a vein of metal.

The Cornishman, 15th March 1945.

Cornish Miners' Superstitions (by an ex-miner?)

(By Herbert Richards).
It has been said that Cornish miners are a class very superstitious, and that they take particular notice of tokens, which they say portend good or ill luck. They also affirm that many lives have been saved from disaster by carefully watching signs and tokens. Nearly everyone, however, is more or less superstitious, though most people would deny this. Ninety-nine persons out of a hundred will walk around a ladder rather than under it. How many will refuse to sit thirteen at table, or to embark on some undertaking on the thirteenth of the month. I would like, therefore, to give to readers of the "Cornishman" some of the happenings which were said to have taken place in some of our local tin mines, when mining was in full swing, and the rattle of stamps made music in the valleys.

Miners affirm that they often see little imps or demons underground, and that their presence is a sign of good luck, and that they indicate the presence of lodes of tin, about which they work during the absence of the miners. A miner was once heard to say that he had often seen them, sitting on pieces of timber, or tumbling about in curious attitudes when he went underground to work.

Another story is that miners do not like the form of the Cross made underground. A man on one occasion going through a level made a cross by the side of one, to mark his way back, as he would have to return by himself. But he was compelled to alter it into another form.

If miners see a snail when going to bal in the morning, they drop a piece of tallow candle by its side.

Two miners who worked at Wheal Vor, in Breage, were in the habit of calling out a dog or two and hunt over the Godolphin estate nearby. One morning while they were with the dogs, one of them gave the alarm that a man on horseback was coming down the road. "It's not possible," said the other. "No horse can ever come over that road."
"Yes it is," said the other, "And old Capn. T is on its back," replied the first.
"Hold thy tongue," replied his comrade. "Capn. T died months ago."
"I know that," said the other, "but tes he sure enough."
Both crouched down behind a bush, but the informant, whose father was one of the parties, declared that the appearance of Capt. T on a black horse passed noiselessly down the road immediately before them, but that he did not notice their presence.

Another strange tale comes from Wheal Vor. A man and a boy were engaged in sinking a shaft, when the lad through accident or carelessness, missed in charging a hole, so it was found necessary to pick out the charge. This they proceeded to do, while the man severely repremanded the boy for carelessness. Several miners were on the plat above, chatting with the man and boy. Suddenly the charge exploded, when man and boy were seen to be thrown up in a volume of flame. A party quickly descended, and the remains of the poor fellows were seen to be scorched beyond recognition. A bystander, in order to spare the feelings of the relatives, caught the burning mass on a shovel and threw it into the blazing furnace of Woolf's engine nearby. From that time the engine man declared that numbers of little black dogs continually haunted the place, even when the doors were closed, and it was found very difficult to get an engine-man to work the engine.

On Christmas Eve, in former days, the "small people," known as "Spriggans," met at the bottom of the deepest mines and sang Christmas carols, and the miners during their work could hear melodious voices beyond all earthly voices singing the well-known carol "Noel" and the strains of a deep-toned organ shook the rocks.

It is said that miners often hear with alarm, noises as if other miners were at work deep underground, and at no great distance, the wheeling of barrows, the sound of pickaxes, and the fall of earth, are distinctly heard through the night. This is supposed to be the echo of their own labours, but sometimes the noises continued long after their labours were ended and voices were occasionally intermingled with the sounds.

Midsummer-eve and New Year's Day were holidays with the miners. It is said that they refused to work on those days from superstitious reasons.

I heard recently that just before the accident at Wheal Reath, a few weeks ago, when three miners were trapped by an inflow of water, that a miner had a warning that something was going to happen at the mine, and he did not go underground. The following incident illustrates this belief in warnings. A workman once lodged in a house near Wheal Grey, in Breage. He says the daughter of the person with whom he lodged, came in to her mother crying, "Billy and Jim ben out theer for more than an hour, and I ben chasing them among the banks and they wa'ant let me catch them. As fast as I go to one bank, they go to another."
"Hold your tongue, child," said the mother. "Twas their fore-noon core, an they have both ben in bed these hours..."
"I'm sure I ben chasing them," said the child.
The mother then went upstairs and awoke the lads, telling them the story. One of them at once said: "It is a warning, something will happen in the old end, and I sha'ant go to mine this core."
"Nonsense," said the other. "Don't be so foolish. The child has been playing with some strangers, and it isn't worth while to be spaled (pay cut) for any such foolishness."
"I tell you," replied the other, "I won't go," and as it was useless for one man to go alone, both remained away, and strange as it may seem, in the course of the night a run took place in the end they had been working in, and tens of thousands of kibblefuls (iron buckets) came away. Had they been at work both men would have been buried alive.

At Wheal Vor it has always been believed that the appearance of a white rabbit, or hare, in the engine house presaged a fatal accident, and some of the miners solemnly declare that they have chased hares and rabbits till they were hemmed in apparently without being able to catch one. A white rabbit on one occasion, it was said, ran into a windbore, lying on the ground, and though stopped in it escaped.

Another strange token comes from Wheal Vor. A man on being relieved from his turn as watcher during the night heard a loud noise like the emptying of rubbish in front of the account house, where he was staying; on going out, nothing was to be seen. The poor fellow thinking this strange sound was a bad warning pined away and died within a few weeks.

The following about the knockers is very interesting. These used to be heard in Cornish mines and caused a great deal of discussion as to who or what they were. They are miners say, the ghosts of the Jews that crucified our Lord, and were sent for slaves to work the mines in Cornwall and we find their old smelting houses, which we call Jews' houses, and their blocks at the bottom of the great bogs, which we call Jews' tin.

We used to break into old shafts which they had made, and they say that if a man on a still night works about these shafts he may hear the ghosts of them at work, knocking and picking as clearly as if a man were working in the next level. In some mines these little knockers were known as Buccas, and miners affirm that these sprites have been heard working away in the remote part of a lode of tin repeating the blows of the pick with great precision, and have often indicated to miners where they might find productive lodes.

The following interesting account of the knockers is related: One Saturday night after I had retired to rest and had been some time in bed, I heard a bedroom door open and footsteps moving about on the landing of the stairs, and a movement in the kitchen beneath. This noise continued so long that I feared that one of the children had been taken suddenly ill, and on the Sunday morning when I went down to breakfast, I asked the servant what occasioned the noises during the night. She declared that none of the family had left their bedroom during the night. But one of the family informed me that the house was haunted, and that they often heard strange noises as of miners beating a borer, but I believe they all come from the lode of tin which runs under the house. They were the "knockers" which you heard working upon a lode of tin.

Numerous stories have come from mines in the Lelant and St. Ives district, where the "knockers" have been heard. Since the decline of Cornish mining, very little is known of these things, but in the old mining days it is a fact that all these curious superstitions were believed in.

The Cornishman, 4th March 1937.