Ceredigion, and Anglesey, and Powys (1801)

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

... They [the Welsh people] are much inclined to superstition. But in all countries, there are weak and foolish people; in England, many of our peasantry are ready to swallow, with the most credulous avidity, any ridiculous stories of ghosts, hobgoblins, or fairies. In Wales it is more general, and the people are certainly more credulous than the generality of the English. - There are very few of the mountaineers, who have not by heart a whole string of legendary tales of those disembodied beings.

The Roman Cavern, in Llanymynech-hill, called Ogo, has been long 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 the Welsh 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 at 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 heard, 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 mines either; but after the discovery of the great ore, they were heard no more.

"When I began to work at Llwyn Llw[y]d, they worked so fresh[?] 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 diads, &c. than if they were some of their own people; and a single miner will 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 Llanfihangel 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.

Redmoor Mine, Callington, Cornwall ((1937)

 Eerie Noises at Night.

Mine's Ghostly Will-O'-The-Wisp. Strange experience at Callington.

A strange experience which befell three miners working at Redmoor Mine, near Callington, was related to "The Western Morning News" representative yesterday by the men.

The old mine has recently been re-opened, and it is stated that queer noises for which no accountable reason can be given have been heard at the mine at night. The men, Messrs. Roscoe Smith, Lionel Smith, and Fred Scould, of Wadebridge, were on night shift, and were the only miners in the mine at the time.

"I left the levels at 2.30 a.m.," said Mr. Roscoe Smith, "and I made my way to the drying-house. It was a dark night, with no moon or stars, not a breath of wind, even. Just as I reached the drying-house something, I cannot ell what it was or what it looked like, suddenly came out of the drying-house and swished past me. Then I heard a sound, but saw nothing. The thing, whatever it was, made my lamp go out. Presently I lit my lamp again and entered the drying-house, but saw nothing to indicate what it was that had frightened me. Then I heard a loud noise, like stones falling on a galvanized roof. It came from the direction of the mine-sheds. I went towards the place, but the sound shifted and I heard it coming as if from the stamps up above me. My mates came out from the levels just then, and we went to investigate.

"We heard a mysterious thumping and rattling, coming from the old mine-burrows and stack, then from the sheds and blacksmith's shop. Wherever we went in an attempt to locate the cause of the noise it shifted to another region. Once we heard it coming from the direction of some farm buildings about 200 yards away. As a matter of fact, the weird noise came from many angles, at almost regular intervals, but always on the mine or the immediate vicinity. It began at 2.30, and not until daylight, about six o'clock, did it cease."

The other two miners admitted feeling scared at the time. "It's past explaining," Mr Lionel Smith remarked. "I've never heard anything like it. It was really uncanny. I'm not nervous, but I shall never forget my experience. Sometimes I thought it sounded like something scrambling away and making a big noise about it."

Other miners spoke of curious tapping sounds being heard in the levels, reviving the theory, popular in Cornwall, that the spirits of departed miners, known as "knockers," haunt old workings.

Western Morning News, 23rd September 1937.

Morfa, Swansea, South Wales, 1895

 The Strange Action of Morfa Miners.

An Echo of Ancient Legends. Uncanny Noises Underground. The Coblyn Knocker. Interesting Chapter on Coblynau.

In connection with the extraordinary conduct of the miners employed at the Morfa Colliery, it is interesting to read of Welsh miners' superstitions as described by Mr Wirt Sykes, who in 1879 was the United States Consul for Wales at Cardiff. The author classes, under the general title of Coblynau, the fairies which haunt the mines, quarries and underground regions of Wales, corresponding to the cablistic gnomes.

"The word coblyn," says he, "has the double meaning of knocker or thumper and sprite or fiend; and may it not be the original of goblin? It is applied by Welsh miners to pigmy fairies which dwell in the mines, and point out, by a peculiar knocking or rapping, rich veins of ore... The coblynau are described as being about half-a-yard in height and very ugly to look upon, but extremely good-natured, and warm friends of the miner. Their dress is a grotesque imitation of the miners' garb, and they carry tiny hammers, picks, and lamps. They work busily, loading ore in buckets, flitting about the shafts, turning tiny windlasses, and pounding away like madmen, but really accomplishing nothing whatever."

It would appear that the miner of old was not particularly afraid of these sprites, because "They have been known to throw stones at the miners when enraged at being lightly spoken of, but the stones are harmless. Nevertheless, all miners of a proper spirit refrain from provoking them, because their presence brings good luck." ..."Miners are possibly no more superstitious than other men of equal intelligence. I have heard some of their number repel indignantly the idea that they are superstitious at all."

The author quotes from the South Wales Daily News, which in June, 1878, recorded a superstition of the quarrymen at Penrhyn, where some thousands of men refused to work on Ascension Day. "This refusal did not arise out of any reverential feeling, but from an old and widespread superstition, which has lingered in that district for years, that if work is continued on Ascension Day an accident will certainly follow. A few years ago the agents persuaded the men to break through the superstition, and there were accidents each year - a not unlikely occurrence, seeing the extent of works carried on, and the dangerous nature of the occupation of the men. This year, however, the men, one and all, refused to work."

"These," proceeds Mr Sykes, "are examples dealing with considerable numbers of the mining class, and are quoted in this instance as being more significant than individual cases would be. Of these last I have encountered many. Yet I should be sorry if any readers were to conclude from all this that Welsh miners are not in the main intelligent, church-going, newspaper-reading men. They are so, I think, even beyond the common. Their superstitions, therefore, like those of the rest of us, must be judged as 'a thing apart,' not to be reconciled with intelligence and education, but co-existing with them. Absolute freedom from superstition can come only with a degree of scientific culture not yet reached by mortal man. ... When they (the miners) hear the mysterious thumping, which they know is not produced by any human being, and when in examining the place where the noise was heard they find there are really valuable indications of ore, the sturdiest incredulity must sometimes be shaken.

Science points out that the noise may be produced by the action of water upon the loose stones in fissures and potholes of the mountain limestone, and does not actually suggest the presence of metals. In the days before a Priestley had caught and bottled that demon which exists in the shape of carbonic acid gas, when the miner was smitten dead by an invisible foe in the deep bowels of the earth, it was natural his awe-struck companions should ascribe the mysterious blow to a supernatural enemy. When the workman was assailed suddenly by what we now call firedamp, which hurled him and his companions right and left upon the dark rocks, scorching, burning, and killing, those who survived were not likely to question the existence of the mine fiend. Hence arose the superstition - now probably quite extinct - of basilisks in the mines, which destroyed with their terrible gaze. When the explanation came that the thing which killed the miner was what he breathed, not what he saw, and when chemistry took the firedamp from the domain of the faerie, the basilisk and the fire fiend had not a leg to stand upon. The explanation of the Knockers is more recent, 'and less palpable and convincing.'"

South Wales Daily News, 13th December 1895.

Scotswood, Newcastle, 1925

 Pit's Mystery Noises.

Mr Herbert Smith, President of the Miners' Federation, and Mr WP Richardson, of the Durham Miners' Association, who are to represent the men at the inquiry into the Scotswood Pit disaster, descended the pit, accompanied by a number of local officials, on Saturday afternoon. Mr Smith and his friends donned pit clothes and penetrated into the mine to within 230 yards of the spot where the water broke through. At times they had to wade waist deep through the water.

Mr Smith declined to make any statement when he returned to the bank, but it was said the party had the opportunity of listening to the hammering noises to which Mr William Straker referred in his circular.

Lancashire Evening Post, 29th June 1925.

Blyth, Northumberland, 1930

 Eerie Noises Mystery.

Eerie noises, apparently coming from below the ground, are causing alarm to householders in various parts of Blyth (Northumberland), and people are unable to sleep at nights. It is officially declared that the noises are not due to mine workings.

1862

Superstitions of our colliers. The World Below.

The change from the upper world to the coal pit beneath is a startling one. Above you have the broad fields and distant hills, lit by sunshine; here a river, there a stream; here trees waving, and there woods full of melody. All is life; chimneys are sending up their wreaths of smoke from every point; furnaces are casting forth their glare; engines are pursuing their monotonous beat; voices are heard on every side; and whether in the field or the town, active open day work seems the law impelling every one on in the race of life. 

Visit the coal pit. Your conductor takes a bar of iron and beats it against the signal "gloch," and the sounds seem to sink downward with a melancholy cadence. Again he repeats the warning, and then is heard, as if from a confined spirit immured far below, a wail that echoes again and again, and at last dies away. All is right. You enter the carriage, and with swift gliding motion descend. A strange thrill creeps over the frame as the opening above becomes smaller and smaller; you look nervously at the chains which link you to the world above, and never before has it appeared so bright as now, when, a faulty link, and 'tis gone from you for ever. The car at length comes to a stand still; you are helped out; pass the great fire which maintains the ventilation, and through the long dark heading, with a twinkling light thrown on the path by a Davy lamp, take your way.

Stop! Your conductor has forgotten something; he must return, and you wait his coming in a low stall! Now is the time, in the fell thick darkness, with the solemnity of the pit around you like a shroud, to feel and comprehend the change from the upper to the lower world. Not a voice is heard. Now and then a drop of water splashes down into the pool by your side, or a piece of shale or coal falls with sullen noise in the seeming vault you are in. Fancies crowd upon you, the heavy air seems to hum and to teem with solemn life. List! a distant step; a light creeping like a small thread over the black sides of the heading; it grows, expands, a long demon like shadow passes you, and your friend is by your side! 

I do not wonder in an atmosphere so congenial, that the Welsh collier is in the majority of cases a superstitious being - prone to believe in appearances and warnings before accident or death, and to hand down their warnings in many a social gossip, to the men who succeed him. One of their warnings, told with great earnestness at a congenial time for such relations, was as follows:-

An old collier, of sober religious habits, was at work in his stall one afternoon; he plied his mandril busily, for times were bad, and the hours were fleeting fast. One by one he heard the tread of his companions leaving the pit, some he saw, and one in particular, who spoke to him as he went by. On he worked. Suddenly he heard in the distance a strange and yet a common noise; it was simply the rolling of a tram, but it came from a place where he knew no trams could be at that time, and he rose up from his work and looked out into the dark heading, hearing trams approaching quietly and regularly. Then he heard voices in conversation blending with the noise of the tram. It was strange! he rubbed his eyes, passed his hand across his brow, and still the tram neared him and the voices continued. 

At length a faint light appeared, and in a moment afterwards the tram passed, pushed forward by several colliers, and, inside was a dark heap of crushed limbs with a ghastly face visible, clammy with the dews of death. The tram passed, and before he could step out and speak to the men, it faded away into the black heading, and voices and roll of wheels gave way to the awful stillness of the mine. The old man, aged by labour and by time, instantly gathered his mandrils and tin, and with step quickened by fear made his way to the foot of the shaft. There he met others of the workmen, to whom he told the strange appearance that had been seen, and from these he learnt that the man noticed in the tram had long left his work, and so had the others whom he had recognised as pushing the tram along the heading.

He went home; his old dame shook her head as he related the events of the day, and prophecied something would happen ere long, for the warning was unmistakable. All night long he brooded over what he had seen, at one time resolving to tell his fellow-workmen, at another determined he would not; for, old as he was, he dreaded the fun they would be sure to make of him and his tale, however much in reality they were solemnly affected by it. 

So when the long tardy morning broke, and he again went to the pit, his course was decided- with him and his wife the subject should remain a secret. All that day the slightest unusual movement startled him; but the day passed like other days, and night found him returning home to his anxious expectant dame. And day after day passed with the same monotonous roll, and recollection of the "appearance" he had seen was becoming less vivid, when it was again brought to memory, and there impressed with enduring distinctness. Late one day found him working as usual; step after step passed his stall just as they did on the day when he was so sorely frightened; adn he was in the act of gathering up his tin and mandril, when the same noise of tram and presently the sound of voices was heard. He hastily stepped out to the tramway, determined this time that there should be no doubt left on his mind, and in a few minutes the same faces, the same ghastly countenance and crushed form met his gaze. This time there were no shadows; the men spoke to him, and told the brief tale of the poor fellow's mishap. 

Together they all walked out of the pit, and the old man, after assisting the wounded collier home, retraced his steps to his own little cottage with something to think about during the few years he had to live. His determination to keep the matter secret was not of long continuance, and when it did become known his honest sober character stamped the tale with genuiness. And long after, at the dinner time in the pit, or around cosy fires in the colliers' homes, the narration was told with additions due to the fertile imagination of the narrator, which made the young creep closer to the mother's side, and caused uncomfortable feelings even among the "children of longer growth."

29th March

 

 Superstitions of our colliers. No. 4.

It is but natural that those labouring in the comparative silence and loneliness of the coalpit should become predisposed to superstition. Take the case of men working in daylight - how we scout in open mid-day anything of a superstitious character: tales of witchery, of ghosts, of strange appearance or sounds, uncanny fall flatly on the ear. They pale and wax faint in daylight, and scare nobody. In open day we may hear sounds that strike us as peculiar, but they are put to the credit of some natural cause - a cat, a rat, or the limb of a tree; but at night, when the world is abed, and we sit alone by the fireside, doing bachelor honours for a time to ourselves, the rustling of a tree against the window makes us start, and a strange creaking noise behind the door sends a chill over the frame. Thus, if we open-day men are so affected at night, and when alone, there is but little to wonder at in the superstitions of colliers.

Men of veracity will declare that they heard some one working in a stall where no one was certainly working; they will tell you that they heard the regular sound of the mandril plied by sturdy hands, the fall of a mass of coal, the filling of a tram, and will add that on going into the place neither man nor fall of coal was visible. There is no doubt that subterranean echoes play a great part in awakening these fancies, and that many a case of unaccountably strange to the coal-digger might, to a mind of a higher and a more investigating character, have turned out simply a natural result ensuing from natural causes.

There is a plant akin to some of the fungi tribe found adhering to old trees, which is to be met with in some coal pits. It has a peculiar phosphorous character, and will actually light up a place if the fungi are plentiful. In past times these played strange tricks with some of the earlier colliers - many a glare have they emitted which frightened them sorely, until with experience came a better acquaintance with these same fungi, and research led to a knowledge of their curious properites. 

With regard to sounds heard, there is one anecdote on record which formed one of the budget of a collier's lore. The alleged facts occurred in the Merthyr valley, and to this day no explanation has been given. IT happened in the winter time, some years ago, that one John Morgan - we may not be precisely right about the name - was working with others in a certain heading. Beyond them, for they were working back, there was an old work or heading which had been nearly worked out. The props had been removed, rubbish thrown in, and the place partially but not entirely closed. We are not certain if all the stalls were closed, but at all events it was impossible for any adventurer to penetrate there, and risk his life for the sake of getting a tramof coal that might have fallen. From this old working came strange sounds.

The men heard distinctly the rolling of trams there, and noises issuing just as they did from other parts where bona fide colliers were employed. Every usual action of the collier was parodied by some one or thing in the old working, and as the sounds were heard when the men rested from labour in order to listen, no one thought of the possibility of there being an echo. This was never explained, and to this day the affair is raked up occasionally by a communicative pitman, and, garnished with savoury particulars, laid before his listener.

There is another prevailing impression in the minds of many of our colliers, a belief in omens coming to the individuals who are destined to an early and a frightful death. These we will treat upon in a future paper, and with them complete the superstitions of our colliers.

CLIO. 5th April 1862. 

Merthyr Telegraph, and General Advertiser for the Iron Districts of South Wales.

Kingswood, Bristol, 1880

 A Collier's Superstition.

It is stated at an inquest held on the body of the man Hudd, who was killed at the Deep Pit, Kingswood, that one of the witnesses declared just after the accident that he had seen the ghost of the deceased man walk up the incline leading to the bottom of the shaft.

Cardiff Times, 24th July 1880.

Denaby Main, South Yorkshire, 1883

 The Coroner and the Superstition of Colliers.

An inquest was held at the Reresby Arms, Denaby Main, yesterday, before Mr Wightman, coroner, and a jury, of whom Mr Longley was foreman, touching the death of John Wall, aged 14 years, until recently employed at the Denaby Main Colliery. Mr Gerrard, HM Inspector of mines, was present, and Mr Chambers, manager of the colliery, appeared to watch the case on behalf of the colliery company.

Benjamin Wall, a collier, employed at Denaby Main, said he was the deceased's father. His son would have been 14 years of age next birthday, and had been employed in the pit for one year and five months as a pony driver. Both himself and his son were employed on the night shift. Deceased worked in the drift; he was not subject to fits nor to attacks of giddiness. He did not hear of the accident until ten minutes to seven the next morning. His son was brought home dead at seven o'clock. From what he could learn respecting the accident he had no occasion to blame anyone concerning the matter. In answer to a question as to whether the deceased was kept in the pit for something like two or three hours before the doctor saw him, the witness said he heard that the accident took place somewhere about four in the morning.

John Wharmsley, contractor for driving a stone dritt, said he knew the deceased, who was a pony driver. He would have had to drive his pony perhaps 200 yards. The tubs drawn by the animal were laden with stone, not coal. He last saw the deceased alive about five o'clock on the morning of Friday. He was then starting away with one tub. Witness saw him start; he was walking; he did not ride, as he was not allowed to do so. Deceased generally used his iron lockers, but on that occasion he only had one iron and one wooden one. The incline gradient was 1 1/4 inch in a yard. When he next saw the deceased, the boy was lying dead.

James Holland corroborated the evidence given previously respecting the finding of the body. He did not know how the accident had happened. No stone had dropped from the corve, and it did not seem as if it had been off the rails. The boy had driven the pony for six months on the same road, and for the same men. There were 15 cwt. or 16cwt. of stone in the tub. He helped to carry the body a distance of 35 yards from the scene of the accident, and about 300 yards from the pit bottom. Deceased was dead when he was found. 

In answer to a question from the Foreman respecting why the body had been kept to the pit until seven o'clock in the morning, witness said he had nothing to do with it. 

The Coroner: If you had kept him in the pit for two hours alive when injured, it would have raised a very nasty question for some of you. The witness said he believed the body was not removed so quickly as otherwise it might have been out of due respect for the father's feelings. It was thought advisable to let the father get out of the pit, instead of taking the body straight to his son in the bottom. Mr Chambers said that was the object for which the body was kept. The Coroner said it was for the father of the deceased to complain if anyone did.

A Juror said a doctor should have been sent for, but that was not done, as the body was put on one side. The witness said the body was not put on one side. A Juror: The body was kept back on purpose to keep the pit from playing. The Witness: No man breathing can say that. The Coroner then inquired of the father of the deceased whether he found any fault with the way in which the body was treated after dead. - He said he did not know which boy was injured for some time [sic]. The Coroner said they had heard what the last witness had said. 

One juryman thought that there had been very indecent delay in not getting the body of the deceased out of the pit. He (the deceased's father) had heard that there was an obstruction in the pit, which was full of empty corves, and that the body was not removed immediately out of respect for him. Mr Law said one man came to his house and said they could not make it convenient to get the body out until the full corves were removed. He had heard of the accident, but could not learn whowas the injured party, although something struck him that his boy was injured. He kept waiting to see his two boys coming.

The Coroner said he and the inspector were both satisfied that the affair was an accident. If the lad had been alive, had shown any symptom of life whatever, and had been kept in the pit for two hours, one hour, or even a half or a quarter of an hour, it would come with a very bad grace, and he would have felt bound to express a very strong opinion on the matter. If the lad was dead beyond all earthy doubt, it did not seem to him that there was any necessity for the urgency or haste that there would be if the lad was alive. 

Holland's explanation was really a bit of fine feeling - that they did not like to go and plump the father in the face with his dead son. He did not know whether there was any superstition in the case. He was told that all the men in a pit insisted on throwing their tools down directly a man was killed, and would not work while a dead body was in the pit. It was merely superstition. He did not know why they all gave over working because there was a man killed. He did not see the necessity for closing a pit because a man was killed. He was quite of opinion with the inspector that it was an accident pure and simple. With regard to the circumstance of the case as to how the boy was killed, he said it must remain a mystery, as no one observed the accident or could give a clue as to how it was caused.

The Foreman: Why didn't they let the men know that there was a dead body in the pit? The Coroner: That's a bit of superstition, I suppose. Another Juror: I don't see how a man is capable of judging whether another one is dead or not if he is not a medical practitioner. The Coroner said if there had been any question as to the death, that subject would have arisen. A verdict of "Accidental death" was then returned.

Sheffield Independent, 24th July 1883.

Derbyshire, 1880

In another case recorded this week the ending was not so happy, especially to one of the parties concerned, resulting as it did in an appeal to the County Magistrate, and in three months' hard labour to the astrologer involved. The scene is shifted from the Highlands [prev. story] to Derbyshire, and the two chief actors are not crofters but colliers. It would appear that one Levi Cooke eked out his income as a collier by the proceeds of such soothsaying as he could manage to secure. 

A brother collier named PAtrick Smith loses £90, and he, accordingly, knowing Levi's acquaintance with black art, applied to him, asking who had the money. Having heard Patrick's tale of his misfortune, the wise man consulted a book, looked grave, and wrote something mysterious on a slate. He was at last able to inform the anxious inquirer that the money would be returned. The person who had taken it would bring it back. For this satisfactory information Smith paid the astrologer two shillings. Ten days pass away, and yet no money comes back. Another call on the necromancer results in another assurance that the money would certainly be returned. Meantime, as if to make matters doubly sure, the professional man gives the loser of the money a round piece of glass to look through, but nothing came of it - at least no money to Smith.

Somehow or other the police were induced to make a call on the wizard, whose house was found to contain a large number of mystic lore, including "Celestial Philosophy," "Orion's Prophetic Guide and Weather Almanac," and several copybooks filled with discourses on astrology. There was a note which ran thus:- "She can have prescriptions from me, and advice for 14 stamps each time until the evil spirits are expelled from her blood and body." Letters were also discovered showing that this learned collier's patients had as much confidence in him as had ever one in his family physician.

What the collier made off his clientele may be supposed to have been considerably more than collier ever made in the mine even in the palmy days of chicken and champagne. But the efforts of the best and most beneficient of the friends of the people are sometimes very ungraciously received. The great unpaid did not show that sympathy with this philanthropic collier that might have been expected from so enlightened a body, the result being that Cooke, like other benefactors born too soon, has been laid up in prison, not to be restored to his native village till three long moons have rolled away. [...]

Dundee Courier, 16th July 1880.

Coatbridge, North Lanarkshire, 1871

 Scotch Superstition.

A distressing accident occurred at the Drumpellier Tunnel Coalpit, Coatbridge, which resulted in the death of a child ten years of age. It seems that there is a notion prevalent among the colliers that the confined air of a coalpit acts as a powerful curative for whooping-cough. Acting upon this idea a collier, named Michael Dollan, had taken his son down to the upper seam of the pit where he was working, in order that the boy might have the advantage of the attribuuted remedial virtues of the vitiated air in curing a severe cought that he had been labouring under.

After being down for some time the child had left his father's side in search of drinking water, and having in the dark proceeded in the direction of the shaft, he walked right into it, falling a distance of 25 fathoms. When his body was brought to the surface it was found that his head had been literally crushed to atoms, and his body otherwise fearfully mangled. - Glasgow Herald.

 Fifeshire Journal, 5th January 1871.

Broughton, Wrexham, 1872

 A Ghost in a Coal Pit.

The present tide of prosperity in the coal trade has been disturbed at the Broughton Colliery, near this town, by the appearance of a ghost in the underground workings, which has had the effect of frightening some of the colliers from the pit. None of the men profess to having had a sight of the spirit who appears to have taken up his abode in this "vasty deep," but they all confess to having heard at times the most unearthly sounds, and when they proceed to search for the cause the same noises are heard in quite an opposite quarter. The fear that has taken hold of the men is such as to interfere considerably with the working of the colliery, and it shows that colliers, like sailors, are excessively superstitious on the ghost question.

Wrexham Advertiser. (In Reynolds's Newspaper, 18th August 1872)

Leicestershire, Northumberland, Manchester (1927)

 Some queer beliefs about birds are given in "Bird Facts and Fallacies," by Lewis R. W. Loyd, which Hutchinson and Co. publish at 10s 6d to-day.

Migrating birds have often conveyed the impression to the poetically minded that they contain the "souls of departed spirits," and, with regard to the lapwing, Mr. Loyd declares that some people believe these birds are metamorphosed old maids, and the green sandpipers metamorphosed old bachelors.

Some interesting stories are told of the plover, and it is stated that "Leicestershire colliers who hear the cry of these birds refuse to go down into the mine until the next day, and that they gave warning of the great colliery explosions at Hartley and Wigan."

Staffordshire Sentinel, 11th February 1927.

Pontypool, Monmouthshire, 1904.

Ghost Scare in a Mine.

The presence of a supposed ghost at Brace's Level, Pontypool, has caused quite a scare amongst the eighty workmen employed at the mine, says a contemporary. The level is owned by Messrs. Baldwin, Limited, and in the course of business some workings about 150 years old have been reopened. The colliers were startled and alarmed to see a figure with a naked light in its forehead walking about the workings, tapping the roof, and examining the sides. The workmen fled in terror from the scene, and one of them says he heard unearthly groans in the old workings. The story of the ghost has affected some of the employees to such an extent that they positively refuse to work alone. The strange part of the business is that the man with the light in his forehead can only be seen from one direction. The women living near the colliery are, of course, in a state of fear over what has become known as "Brace's ghost."

Witney Gazette and West Oxfordshire Advertiser, 17th December 1904.

Newcastle, 1917

 Gossip by Elfin.

The Earth and the "Evil One."

Following upon what I had to say yesterday regarding the long-established custom among miners of laying the pit idle when a fatality occurs in the mine, a correspondent reminds me that to understand the organisation of such a custom we must go back to the ancient beliefs in the oldest traditions; that the earth belongs to the Evil One, and that this spirit of the earth demands a sacrifice before any displacement of the rocks or the crust of the earth demands a sacrifice before any displacement of the rocks or the crust of the earth can take place for a building. 

The Church has perpetuated this belief in two familiar customs, that of consecrating the burial place of the dead, and of placing coins under the foundation of sacred buildings. It was an old belief that the "Evil One" claimed the first corpse that was buried in a new churchyard, and to avoid this calamity a dog was usually taken into the enclosure and then buried alive, thus cheating Satan of his due.

There is, however, historic evidence to verify the custom of burying human remains in the foundations of new buildings, which were the offering to the God of Earth, and which took the form of a favourite dog, slave, or the child of a vassal being built into the foundation walls of the building. The Romans were the first to substitute images and busts for the animal form.

Haunted Mines.

An old miner told my correspondent many years ago that he firmly believed that the mines were haunted by evil and mischievous spirits that dwelt in the old workings, and that he had experienced the result of their strange doings, when all the men's picks were blunted, and frequently the spectre was heard rushing through the mine with a sad, moaning sound, which made all tremble with fear. It is related that miners have turned pale at the recollection of the fright they got, yet the same men when the terrible accident took place at Hartley Colliery, and upwards of 200 men and boys lost their lives, faced death in search for their entombed fellow workmen. 

And this was the locality where "Cutty Soams," the spirit of the mine, was a familiar tradition and belief. A belief in the old superstitions of the past does not necessarily make men cowards; but all evidence goes to prove that the custom has come down from the far-off ages, when miners in all parts of the world believed that the Spirit of Evil claimed a sacrifice for the invasion of the earth under his sway.

"Cutty Soams."

The older generation in Northumberland are, of course, familiar with the legend of "Cutty Soams" to which my correspondent refers, but the younger people may scarcely have heard of it in these days, when the old fashioned superstiitons are seldom talked of. You could not get anybody to believe in these enlightened times that "Cutty" ever existed, but in the long ago he doubtless exercised the imagination of our forebears as something very real, and was regarded as one of the mischievous goblins that haunted the bowels of the earth. Like many another spell of a bygone era, "Cutty" is obsolete, and his antics are but as a tale that is told. 

He's "vanished like the baseless fabric of a vision," / His occupation gone - completed his last mission. / The light of science he disdained to brook / And fled- when other phantoms took their hook.

Newcastle Daily Chronicle, 20th March 1917.

Mixed leads

 Ghosts in Mines.

On referring to one of my scrap-books for 1876, containing my contributions to the Weekly Chronicle in the above year, I find that I wrote at least half a dozen articles on this subject, entitled "Miners' Superstitions and Traditions." Most interesting notes on the same subject, supplementary to mine, were also written by W P S, South Durham; and G. Halliwell, Seaham Harbour. If U V, Houghton, can gain access to the file of the Weekly Chronicle for 1876, the earlier months of the year, he will find ample details about "Ghosts in Mines" in Northumberland, Durham, North-East Lancashire, Devonshire, Cornwall, &c., including the Northern "Cutty Soams," "Blue Cap" (the spectral hewer), the "Seven Whistlers," and other supposed "uncanny" disembodied denizens of mines.

H. Kerr, Bacup, Lancashire.

Newcastle Chronicle, 6th February 1886.

Midlands and Northern England, 1880

 The pitmen in the Midland Counties have or had a belief, unknown to the North, in aerial whistlings, warning them against the pit. Who or what the invisible musicians were nobody pretended to know, but for all that they must have been counted and found to consist of seven, as the seven whistlers is the name they bear to this day.

Two goblins were believed to haunt the Northern mines. One was a spiteful elf who indicated his presence only by the mischief he perpetrated; he rejoiced in the name of "Cutty Soams," and appears to have employed himself only in the stupid device of severing the rope traces, or seams [scams?], by which an assistant putter, honoured by the title of 'the fool', is yoked to the tub. -The strands of hemp which were left all sound in the board at 'kenner-time' were found next morning severed in twain. 'Cutty Soams has been at work,' would the fool and his driver say, dolefully knotting the cord. The other goblin was altogether a more sensible, and indeed an honest and hard-working bogie, much akin to the Scotch brownie, or the hairy fiend whom Milton rather scurvily apostrophises as a lubber. 

The supernatural person in question was no other than a ghostly putter, and his name was 'Bluecap'. Sometimes the miners would see a light blue flame flicker through the air and settle on a full coal tub, which immediately moved towards the rolley-way as though impelled by the sturdiest sinews in working. Industrious Bluecap was at his vocation, but he required, and rightly, to be paid for his services, which he modestly rated as those of an ordinary average putter; therefore once a fortnight Bluecap's wages were left for him in a solitary corner of the mine. If they were a farthing below his due, the indignant Bluecap would not pocket a stiver; if they were a farthing above his due, the indignant Bluecap left the surplus where he found it.

The writer asked his informant, a hewer, wehter, if Bluecap's wages were now-a-days left him, he thought they would be appropriated. The man shrewedly answered he thought they would be taken by Bluecap or somebody else.

Cornubian and Redruth Times, 19th November 1880.

Ollersett pit, Derbyshire (1912)

Wraith in the Mine.

Two men on the night shift at Ollersett coal pit, Derbyshire, when creeping on all-fours underneath the dipping rock roof, observed an object standing a few feet away lifting up its arms and uttering loud screams.

The men were paralysed with fright, and before they had recovered from the shock the apparition vanished. Two nights later a white-faced miner, in a state of collapse, stated that he had also seen the wraith. The ghost was reported to be headless, and to resemble the form of a woman, but this was probably due to the fact that some years ago a woman's body with the head severed from the trunk was found in the pit.

The ghost turned out to be a pure white badger, which had made its home in the mine.

Dundee People's Journal, 31st January 1914.

Redruth and Camborne, Cornwall (1912)

 A Cornish Spook!

Miners' Story of a Strange Apparition.

During recent weeks there has been in circulation in the Redruth and Camborne district a story of a ghost having been seen on East Pool and Agar Mine. By most people it has been regarded as a hoax, but that does not alter the fact that several men are convinced they have actually beheld an apparition from the other world. Nobody can persuade these miners - about half a dozen - that they have not seen, while working in the neighbourhood of East Pool shaft, the shadowy semblance of a man, dressed in a long, caped coat of dark material. The "ghost" vanishes when it is approached.

The curious fact is (according to the "Western Daily Mercury") that the men who are certain that they have had the ghostly experience are only a fourth of the number of those who during the week are engaged at night on the spot. The others are inclined to treat their comrades supposed credulity with much levity. Nevertheless, the half-a-dozen tell circumstantial tales, and are certainly to be given credit for their honest belief.

Persons who have gone to the place on several occasions lately have not succeeded in discovering anything, during their ghost-hunting experiments. By some the "ghost" is believed to have been created by the peculiar lighting effects of the place. It is not uncommon for the men to see undesirables of the tramp class searching for a warm corner to rest or sleep in.

Portsmouth Evening News, 23rd February 1912.

A Ghost Story from a Cornish Coal Pit.

Man in a Long Coat.

[...] The "Morning Leader" representative at Redruth, led by persistent rumours, paid a visit to the East Pool and Wheal Agar United Mines, in Illogan parish, where, he says, he gathered some remarkable and well-authenticated facts. 

At least a dozen men, unimaginative Cornish miners, told him that they had seen the ghost in the pit. One of these declared that he could hardly believe the evidence of his own senses, and did not know what to make of his experience. He is as certain as he can be, however, that while working at night in the immediate vicinity of the shaft he beheld the shadowy semblance of a man wearing a long, black, caped coat.

This miner is obviously not at all of an excitable temperament, and not inclined to joke about the matter. The "ghost" is said to vanish on being approached. Another story is that the spectre on one occasion visited the engine-room, and sat down there. About one-quarter of the men who are engaged on night duty near the shaft in the course of the week are ready to swear they have seen the phantom, but the remainder have observed nothing out of the common, and are rather inclined to laugh at the expense of the others. 

An unfortunate pitman was drowned in this part of the mine about eight months ago, and the body was never recovered. Many of the miners who have seen the ghost are inclined to associate the spectre with this man's death.

Sheffield Evening Telegraph, 23rd February 1912.

 

East Pool Miner's Terrible Death.

A verdict of accidental death was returned on Thursday at an inquiry at Pool Institute [...] into the death of James Curnow (21), who was killed by falling 48 fathoms (288 feet) at East Pool Mine the previous day [..]

West Briton and Cornwall Advertiser, 22nd February 1912.

 

East Pool Horror. Three Miners Instantly Killed.

A terrible accident, involving the instantaneous death of three young miners, occurred at East Pool Mine about 11a.m. on Friday. [...] 

West Briton and Cornwall Advertiser, 7th March 1912.

 

 

Morfa Colliery

 Carrickfergus Advertiser, 18th September 1896.

A Haunted Coal Mine.

The Morfa Colliery, South Wales, possesses the unique, if unenviable, reputation of being haunted. This has always been a singularly unlucky pit, and the scene of several terrible disasters. Some time in the "sixties" these uncanny traditions appear to have been started owing to an elderly miner one day solemnly refusing to go down to work, asserting that the strange sounds he had heard in the workings were a warning of approaching evil. He adhered to his resolve, and there was an immediate explosion of fire damp, resulting in the loss of many lives. The terrible explosion of six years ago, when nearly one hundred miners were entombed, must still be familiar to the minds of many, and shortly before it occurred the most extraordinary noises were fully attested to. Cries, groans, and what was described as a weird "twittering music" reached the ears of all in the lower galleries. Heavy doors in the roadways were seen to open and shut of their own accord, and on the eve of the fatality the cage bell was mysteriously rung, and an apparition attired in a black oil-skin suit descended from the shaft by the side of a tram of coal on the stage, and walked across the yard to a building that a few hours later was destined to be used as a mortuary for the terribly mangled bodies of the victims. Immediately after the explosion one of the officials of the colliery, dressed in the same manner, did exactly as the apparition had done.

Only last December the scare broke out afresh as a recurrence of the same curious sounds took place, and, direst sign of all, one Sunday night a dove was found perched on a coal truck in the weigh house. By way of reassuring the miners, who had all struck work in a body, the Government inspector, the chief manager, and a small party of officials made a strict examination of the workings, but though they found nothing changed, it was several days before the superstitious miners could be induced to resume work. It is quite conceivable that a seismic tremor, or a settling of strata over the older workings, some of which extend under the sea, caused the sounds and movements thus described, and in either case there might be danger. But according to the miners the "weirds" of the victims of the past are giving warning to their living successors.

A Haunted Coal Mine, Glamorgan

 Jersey Evening Post, 15th July 1902

The men employed at the Glyncorry Colliery, Glamorgan, to the number of 300, this morning refused to go down the mine. Some said they considered the working in danger of being flooded by water from an abandoned mine adjoining. Others said they have seen the figure of a woman waving a lighted lamp in the mine and have heard screams. The men assert they have heard cries for help and sounds of falls, and seen flashes of light. There is a general belief among the men that the mine is haunted. It is feared that it will be difficult to get them to resume work.

West Auckland, County Durham

Graphic - Saturday 5th April 1873

 

 Since the execution of the West Auckland poisoner there has been much excitement in the neighbourhood, caused by the reported appearance of the ghosts of several of her victims. The scenes of the apparitions are the churchyard from which the bodies were exhumed, and the old rectory where they were dissected. On Monday week a pitman was followed home by the spectre of a child, which went upstairs, and then made such unearthly noises that the man and his wife ran in terror to a neighbour's cottage, leaving their child behind. A young man who boldly undertook to bring it, came back in a fright, saying that he had seen the ghost on the stairs. The child was at last rescued by a lady, who it is said has had much experience with apparitions. Several pitmen have given up work rather than pass the spots supposed to be haunted.

Cornish miners - Cornubian and Redruth Times October 1906

 Miners' Superstitions.

Miners say that they often see little imps or demons underground. Their presence is considered favourable; they indicate the presence of lodes about which they work during the absence of the miners.

Miners do not like the form of the cross being made underground. A man going through some "levels" or "adits," made a cross by the side of one, to know his way back, as he would have to return by himself. He was compelled to alter it into another form.

If miners saw a sail when going to "bal" in the morning, they used always to drop a piece of tallow from their candles.

Christmas Eve in the Mines.

On Christmas Eve, in former days, the small people, or spriggans, would meet at the bottom of the deepest mines, and have a midnight mass. Then those who were in the mind would hear voices singing, "Now well; now well;" and the strains of some deep-toned organ would shake the rocks. Of the grandeur of those meetings, old stories could not find words sufficiently sonorous to speak; it was therefore left to the imagination, but this was certain, the temple formed by the fairy bands in which to celebrate the eve of the birth of a Saviour, in whose mercy they all had hope, was of the most magnificent description. Midsummer-eve and new-year's day and eve are holidays with the miners. It has been said they refuse to work on those days from superstitious reasons. I never heard of any.

Warnings and "Tokens."

Amongst the mining population there is a deeply-rooted belief in warnings. The following related by a very respectable man, formerly a miner, well illustrates this:-

My father, when a lad, worked with a companion (James or 'Jim', as he was called) in Germow. They lived close by Old Wheal Grey in Breage. One evening, the daughter of the person with whom they lodged came in to her mother, crying, "Billy and Jim ben out theer for more than a hour, and I ben chasin them among the Kilur banks, and they wasn't lev me catch them. As fast as I do go to one, they do go to another." "Hould your tongue, child," said the mother; "'twas their forenoon core, and they both ben up in bed this houre."

"I'm sure I ben chasin them," said the girl. The mother then went upstairs and awoke the lads, telling them the story. One of them said "Tis a warning; something will happen in an old end, and I shan't go to mine this core." "Nonsense," said the other; "don't let us be so foolish; the child has been playing with some strangers, and it isn't worth while to be spaled for any such foolishness." "I tell you," replied the other, "I won'[t go." As it was useless for one man to go alone, both remained away. In the course of the night, however, a run took place in the end they were working in, and tens of thousands of tons of kibblefuls came away. Had they been at work, it was scarcely possible for them to have escaped."

At Wheal Vor it has always been and is now believed that a fatal accident in the mine is presaged by the appearance of a hare or white rabbit in one of the engine-houses. The men solemnly declare that they have chansed these appearances till they were hammed in apparently, without being able to catch them. The white rabbit on one occasion being run into a "windbore" lying on the ground,  and, though stopped in, escaped. In this mine there appears to be a general belief among the men in "tokens" and supernatural appearances. A few months ago, a fine old man reported, on being relieved from his turn as watcher, that during the night he heard a loud sound like the emptying of a cartload of rubbish in front of the account-house, where he was staying. On going out, nothing was to be seen. The poor fellow, considering the strange sound as a "warning," pined away and died within a few weeks.

The Ghost on Horseback.

Billy and John, working at Wheal Vor, were in the habit, early in the morning, of calling out a dog or two, kept by the occupier of an adjoining farm, and with them hunt over the Godolphin warren adjoining. One morning, while thus engaged, one of them gave the alarm that a man on horseback was coming down the road. "Tisn't possible," said the other; "no horse can ever come over that road." "There is a horse, and old Cap'n T. is upon it," replied the first. "Hold thy tongue," rejoined his comrade; "he's dead months ago." "I know that; but 'tis he, sure enough." Both crouched down behind a bush; and my 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 without noticing their appearance.

The Black Dogs.

About seventy years since, a man and a lad were engaged in sinking a shaft at Wheal Vor mine, when the lad through carelessness or accident, missed in charging a hole, so that a necessity arose for the dangerous operation of picking out the chartge. This they proceeded to do, the man severely reprimanding the carelessness of his assistant. Several other miners at the time about being to change their core, were on the plat above, calling down and conversing occasionally with man and boy. Suddenly the charge exploded, and the latter were seen to be thrown up in the midst of a volume of flame. As soon as help could be procured, a party descended, when the remains fo the poor fellows were found to be shattered and scorched beyond recognition. When these were brought to the surface, the clothes and a mass of mangled flesh dropped from the bodies. A bystander, to spare the feelings of the relatives, hastily caught the revolting mass in a shovel, adn threw the whole into the blazing furnace Woolf's engine, close at hand. From that time the engineman declared that troops of little black dogs continually haunted the place, even when the doors were shut. Few of them like to talk about it; but it was difficult to obtain the necessary attendance to work the machine.

Minto Colliery, Fife, 1935

Fife Ghosts 3 - by our Special Correspondent.
The Phantom of the Mine.
From the ghost section of Minto Colliery brave men fled in terror.

This is the tale of Fife's most terrifying ghost. It is a ghost two hundred fathoms under the earth. It has shattered the nerves of strong me, causing them months of insomnia. It heralds its visitations with a rending, tearing thunder.

I first heard of the ghost section of the Minto Colliery in West Fife from a haggard-looking man whom I met when walking through one of the mining towns in the early morning. He wanted change to work a cigarette machine. He was rather old, with tired, sunken eyes and a weary, drawn face. I asked him what he was doing out of bed at that hour. He told me he had not slept a wink at night for 18 mongths. "I worked in the ghost section," he said.

He told me he had been through the worst barrages in the Great War without turning a hair. But the ghost section shattered his nerves. "I have found myself running panic-stricken from the section, and clinging to the wall, panting, with my knees absolutely knocking together, wondering whether I could dare to go back or not." Finally his nerves gave way. He had not worked for 18 months. He envied the health of every person he saw. He wondered whether he would eventually go mad from want of sleep.

The full story of the ghost section was afterwards related to me by Mr James Suttie, whose picture you see here. Mr Suttie was for five years the contractor in charge of the ghost section. It is now closed.

Minto Colliery is situated between Bowhill and Lochgelly and the section lies about a mile from the pit bottom. It is 120 yards in length, comprising a winding "road." Working at the "face," the miners knelt under a roof about four and a half feet high. The peculiarity of the section was that the roof above it was sandstone for several fathoms. Herein lay the ghost. Suddenly, without warning, the roof would begin to roar. The roaring was far worse than thunder. Everyone who has worked in the ghost section speaks in awed tones of the tearing, rending thunder of the roof, which went on in diabolical peals sometimes for over an hour. In accompaniment to the terrifying noise, the roof would tear apart and press down with overwhelming force. Props would be driven into the "pavement" or ground.

Yet, curiously enough, the accident rate in the ghost section was not higher than elsewhere. This was due to an uncanny second sight which the miners who worked in it experienced. Mr Suttie told me that while he and his 16 men were at work all along the section they would suddenly realise that the thunder was going to begin. There was no visible warning, no murmuring or movement. They simply knew that in a second's time the roof would be roaring and tearing and heaving. With one accord they crawled feverishly into the bigger road without, and no sooner had they scrambled to their feet than the terrifying noise had begun.

The lights all went out. In darkness terror-stricken men rushed hither and thither to safety. Many ran into each other in the dark in their blind efforts to get away from the section. And, while I tell you this, you must remember that there is no braver class of men than the miners in the country. In all other circumstances they do not flinch from danger. It is their everyday companion. But the ghost section, just at this terrifying stage when the lights black out and the narrow underground roadway is a roaring, heaving, rending mass, struck panic into the hearts of the bravest men.

Once out of the section, the men waited until the thunder had ceased. Usually they were scattered, and the wait was often an anxious one, for one band of men was quite unaware what had happened to another. When the thunder ceased the men made their way back to the ghost section. This alone proved their courage. They would find the props which had held up the roof driven right through the pavement. These props, usually pillars of wood, made specially for the ghost section, were frequently driven down until a length of only two feet was visible, compared with their previous height of four and a half feet. The roof had settled on top of them after driving them down this distance.

The work of clearing up was then begun, and afterwards the normal work of filling the pan runs resumed. Although eight of his men stuck with Mr Suttie throughout his five years in the ghost section, the other half was continually chopping and changing. He told me of some men who had stayed only one shift, and refused to come back.

Dundee Evening Telegraph, Friday 3rd May 1935

Arbury Estate, Nuneaton, Warwickshire (1930s)

Birmingham Daily Post, Monday 13th February 1939
"Red Deeps": A quarry described by George Eliot
Some years ago, an old estate workman at Arbury used to recall seeing, when a youth, a lady in a black silk dress sitting on a low stone wall at Griff Hollows, notebook in hand, sketching or writing. She was George Eliot, visiting a favourite haunt, Griff Hollows or Griff Bottoms, which she depicted in "The Mill on the Floss" as "Red Deeps".
[...]
The canal at "Red Deeps" has an association with Sir Roger Newdigate, the famous antiquary, and fifth baronet, who was depicted by George Eliot - she was born on his estate - as "Sir Christopher Cheverel." Some years before his death Sir Roger cut a canal through his ground to join the Coventry canal, and it was said that he could enter a boat on his estate and go to Venice by water without putting foot on dry land.
Following the canal-side one can understand how Maggie Tulliver held "Red Deeps" in awe, and needed all her confidence in her brother Tom's bravery to reconcile her to an excursion thither, "visions of robbers and fierce animals haunting every hollow." The legends of "visions" at Griff Hollows persist to this day, and a superstition among Warwickshire miners who have to pass through the valley on their way to work is that of the "seven whistlers." The whistlers are seven birds, which are said to fly together at night making a whistling noise and presaging disaster. Many miners, if they think they hear the birds, return home, instead of going on the night shift.
[...]

Wigan, 1906

Wigan Observer and District Advertiser, Friday 20th April 1906.
Under the Clock.
The Superstitions of the Miner.
There is perhaps no other worker, not even the sailor, who is more superstitious than the miner, and only the people living in a mining district such as Wigan know how superstitious the bravest of men may sometimes be. The industries of peace have their heroes as well as the fields of battle, and nowhere is heroism more manifest than in mining districts where some great catastrophe has overtaken the workers below ground. All the keen, cool daring of which flesh and blood is capable then manifests itself in the pitman, who, having escaped the fire himself, risks his life to save his brother worker. And yet, brave as the pitman may be, he is most superstitious. For instance, if the miner in the country districts round about Wigan sees a woman out-of-doors at five o'clock in the morning he is seized with an impulse to turn back and go home. A woman seen out of doors as a miner goes to his work is supposed to bode ill, and there is many a miner who even to-day would aver that he has more than once saved himself from harm by observing the custom which, in towns, is fast dying out. The English miner, too, believes in the prophecy of dreams, and now and then even the matter of fact evidence at an inquest would seem to support the validity of a superstition that has been set aside.

The disastrous explosion at Courrieres [?s] the fact that legends of the mine exists in France as well as in England. Even at Courrieres, as a writer in a contemporary points out, they have their "Black Miner," a spectral creature with dark skin and flashing eyes who works in the remote parts of the mines, and the men can hear the tick-tack of his pick against the seams. Sometimes they encounter the "Black Miner," who takes no notice of them, but continues his toil for a minute or two before their frightened eyes, and then disappears. When he has been seen or heard the colliers of the Pas du Nord become nervous, and may stop work for a day or two. It is now said that the "Black Miner" has often been encountered of late. But the men of the Pas du Nord are not easily dismayed. The miners go to their work singing -
"Quand now somm's de cinq cents pieds sous terre,
Nous ne craignons ni grele ni tonnerre."

In the valley of the Loire there are certain parts of the mine where no miner dares to trespass. It is well understood among the men that the dwellers in these dark places are to be left severely alone. Yet they are kindly sprites, and sometimes take the shape of dwarf miners. When they are seen with their tiny pickaxes across their shoulders danger is at hand. The "Petits Mineurs" are paid their wages regularly in the shape of a small money offering that is placed just on the border line of their own dark territory. The money disappears almost immediately, and the men are convinced that it has been duly collected by "Le P'tit." In the Central Provinces the spirits never appear when the men are at work. But afterwards gangs of ghostly miners take possession, and those above can hear the sharp sound of the pick, the movements of the waggons, and words of command.

The miners in Zola's "Germinal" fear the "Black Man" who lurks in the black recesses of the galleries, as a writer in T.P.'s Weekly points out. 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 when timbers are rotting and danger lurks. Let us hope this belief does not tend to that neglect which, in a mine, is apt to be so tragic in its results!

Bargoed, 1907

Leicester Daily Post, Monday 23rd December 1907.
Welsh Miners' Superstition.
A remarkable case of Welsh superstition is reported from Bargoed, Rhymney Valley. Prior to the explosion at the Dinas Main Colliery, Gilfachgoch, a rumour was circulated that an explosion would take place at the Bargoed Collieries of the Powell Duffryn Company, at which nearly 2,000 men are employed. There was no justification for the report, but during the week hundreds of men have absented themselves from work.

Cornish miners in South Africa, 1911

The Cornish Telegraph, Thursday 20th July 1911.
Cornish miners and superstition.

There is something about mines that appeals to the superstitious of mankind; especially is this so on the Rand, where one finds miners drawn from all parts of the world. One of the most marked effects noticed in men who have spent most of their life in mining is a sense of danger that suddenly comes over them. "Some would call this faculty the sixth sense," writes a prominent mining expert at Cape Town. "If you asked a miner how he knows there is something wrong he will reply that he feels it. I had a remarkable illustration of this a few years ago. I was walking along a main drift with a mine captain, a man who had been working in mines for over 40 years, having started as a lad in the mines of Cornwall. Suddenly he stopped and exclaimed that something was wrong.

"For the life of me I could not see a thing amiss. The timbers seemed solid and the drive pillars looked secure. But the captain was not satisfied, and insisted on climbing into the stope to investigate. There he found a large crack, running for hundreds of feet, indicating a movement of the strata of serious proportions. Had this discovery not been made in time there would have been a serious accident in the mine, with a probable loss of life. I dare say the years of experience in the mine had developed a power in him which the men called 'superstition,' but which was really the faculty of accurate observation, which to him seemed unconscious."

Yorkshire miners on strike

Hartlepool Northern Daily Mail, Monday 8th September 1947.
35, 000 miners are still idle.

The number of miners on strike this morning was approximately 35,000 - a quarter of Yorkshire's mine labour force. Thirty-one pits were affected by the strike - 19 were completely idle and 12 partly affected. Thirteen pits previously affected by strike are now working normally. Three others who had been on strike are on annual holiday. The Grimethorpe men have refused appeal after appeal and rejected move after move to go back, holding that it was the Coal Board that must give ground. Yesterday they refused again when asked to allow three of their own union men to visit the pit and judge the practicability or otherwise of the extra stint.

Grimethorpe miners are talking about a long strike. They are using the miners' superstition about bringing pit ponies out of the pits as the omen for their calculations. [...]

Dunfermline, 1960s

Aberdeen Press and Journal, Wednesday 27th March 1968.
Scots Miner Tempted Fate - Died.

Miner William Hutton (46), died after defying a superstition he had followed for 22 years, his brother, Mr Benjamin Hutton said yesterday at an inquiry at Dunfermline Sheriff Court. Mr Hutton explained that his brother, of Wedderburn Crescent, Dunfermline, had made it a rule never to work underground on the last shift of the year, because of a miners' superstition that this was tempting fate. But on December 29 he had decided to work the last shift, so that he would have full pay and extra time off.

Two hours after starting the shift at Comrie Colliery he was killed by a one-ton stone which fell from the roof at the face. Mr Hutton said "Working the last shift of the year meant that Willie would have four days holiday - and he loved his New Year. He loved it more than he feared the old superstition about working the last shift." A formal verdict was returned.

Kissing your wife

Leeds Mercury, Tuesday 5th April 1932.
Miners' Superstition.
Unlucky not to kiss wife on going to work.

That his wife had left him because he did not kiss her good-bye was stated by Angus Jenkinson, miner, Downs View Avenue, Deal, when summoned at Sheffield, yesterday, for neglecting her. He added: "She told me her father had said it would be unlucky for a miner not to kiss his wife good-bye before going to work."

It was stated the woman had been certified insane and was in a mental institution. The hearing was adjourned sine die on condition that Jenkinson paid 30s. for his wife's maintenance and repayment of relief.

Whistling

Chelmsford Chronicle, Friday 31st December 1852
Cornish Miners' Superstition.
Amongst the miners in Cornwall a superstition greatly prevails, namely that whistling below ground brings "evil spirits" among them, and for that reason you never hear a miner whistling under ground - Notes and Queries.

1940s Staffordshire

Staffordshire Sentinel, Saturday 1st January 1994
 Disaster as Miners Defy Superstition
It was 52 years ago today [1942] that North Staffordshire's last major pit disaster occurred at Sneyd Colliery, where 57 men and boys died on the blackest New Year's Day in Potteries history.

Normally, nobody would have been down the pit that day. But because of the need for coal during the war, the men went to work in defiance of an old mining superstition about working on New Year's Day. At 7.50am a violent explosion ripped through the pit bottom 800 yards below ground, killing miners working in the Banbury seam of No 4 Pit. Large roof falls blocked the roadways and the whole area was filled with choking dust.

It was January 9 before the last body was recovered from the shattered workings. Many Potteries families were bereaved, but some of those who died were wartime Bevin Boys who had come to the area from other parts of the country. Amazingly, four days after the disaster, 79 per cent of the colliery's miners were back at work underground, even though many bodies were still lying in the affected part of/ the pit.

The official inquiry reached no definite conclusions about the cause of the explosion. But there was little doubt that a major part was played by runaway wagons on an incline. A wheel became entangled in a rope pulling empty wagons in the opposite direction. The resulting friction ignited coal dust in the air. And in that split second catastrophe struck. The tragic even on January 1, 1942, is recalled by Fred Leigh in his new book "Most Valiant of Men" which traces the history of the North Staffs mines rescue service and describes a number of local pit disasters.

Medical superstition

Gloucestershire Echo, Wednesday 23rd July 1924.
Welsh Poultice Superstition.
Miner's wife who believed it.

A South Wales superstition was mentioned in the Court of Appeal on Tuesday, when the Craigola Merthyr Company, Ltd., of Swansea, appealed from a decision that compensation was payable to Mrs. Phoebe Williams, of Pontardulais, for the death of her husband, Thomas Williams.

For the employers it was said that Williams was certified as suffering from knee trouble due to his work. Some well-meaning friend apparently advised the wife that a poultice of cow dung afforded the best treatment for such a trouble, there being a superstition that such a poultice had herbal virtues.

The employers' doctor saw the man with this poultice on, and in consequence of his disapproval the poultice was removed. Two days later the man's own doctor, who had no knowledge of the wife's mistaken treatment, lanced the knee to reduce the swelling. The result was that the germs of tetanus got into the wound and the man died. The question was whether in these circumstances it was possible to hold that the accident was due to the scheduled disease.

Their lordships decided for the widow, and dismissed the appeal with costs.

Chinese tin mines, 1923

Nottingham Journal, Wednesday 14th March 1923.
The Miners' Superstition.#
Illustrating the superstitions that still prevail among Chinese tin miners in British Malaya, Col. M.C. Nangle mentioned at a lecture yesterday at the Imperial Institute, London, that in a mine worked by Chinese labour on the tribute system it was believed that the wearing of boots, or the opening of an umbrella in the mine was likely to drive the tin ore away or bring misfortune to the venture.

Conisborough, South Yorkshire 1912.

Sheffield Daily Telegraph, Monday 15th July 1912.
Miners' Superstition.
Will not descend while corpses are in the pit.
Conisborough, Saturday.

The miners here seem very divided as to when they will resume work in the pit which was the scene of the disaster. It has been officially stated that the pit is now quite safe, and that there is no reason why it should not be re-opened on Monday, but many of the miners shrug their shoulders and mutter a gruff negative when asked if they will descend on that day.

"You don't catch me going down while there's dead men lying there," said one grey-headed hewer of coal. "It fetches your heart up into your throat to go down into a pit when there's dead men lying just a little way off you in the darkness."

This was the view of many men. The Yorkshire miner is not nearly so superstitious as his Welsh brother, but he has a rooted objection to entering a pit where corpses lie. There is another and more material consideration. If the men are out till Tuesday there will be a week's Union pay to draw, and this is a fact which will carry some weight with the Union men, who comprise about half the miners in the Cadeby district.

Mr. Chambers, the managing director, was down the pit again this morning, and found all the seals on the wall intact. Very little air has escaped, and what has come out is non-explosive, which matters point to the fact that the measures for dealing with the gob fire have been satisfactory. But the miners mean to take no risks. "We shall certainly not go down," said one man, "until we have it from the Government Inspector that all danger has disappeared. The mine has been hot for a long time, and until the gob fire has been completely put out we shall not run the risk attendant on resuming work."

All through the night men have been working at the huge fall of roof beneath which probably most of the rescue party lie, but as yet only one more body has been recovered. It is that of Charles Prince, assistant deputy, an unmarried man, who lived at the Glen, Mexborough. Prince was master of the Danaby and Cadeby Troop of Boy Scouts, which has only been in existence for a few weeks. He was taking part in the celebrations at Wentworth when the disaster happened, and he hurried to the pit still wearing his scoutmaster's uniform. The rescue party were crowding into the pit. There was no time to change into pit clothes. He left his jacket in the lamp-room, and went down to his death clad in the Baden-Powell clothing which he had worn under such happy circumstances only an hour or two before.

It is the general opinion that the other bodies lie under another part of the fall, which will not be accessible until the seals for the destruction of the gob fire have been removed, in which case a week or more may elapse before they can be reached. [...]

Penrhyn, 1920s

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.

Concerning diamonds, 1909

Hampshire Telegraph, Saturday 20th March 1909.
Concerning Diamonds
How they burn away.

The jeweller, at closing time, was putting his diamonds in a huge safe. "But why do you bother to do that when two watchmen walk the shop all night?"
"On account of fire," the jeweller replied. "Diamonds are nothing but coal - carbon: they burn beautifully. Their hardness makes us think them indestructible, but as a matter of fact a fire of diamonds would be the briskest, prettiest thing in the world. Put a handful of diamonds on a plate and set a light to them. They will burn with a hard, gem-like flame till nothing is left. There will be no smoke, no soot, and at the end the plates will be as clean as though just washed - not the slightest particle even of ash will remain."

"The diamond mines of India fail to pay mainly on account of a queer belief on the part of the native miners," said another jeweller. "The miners believe that diamonds grow, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly. Hence, if they dug over a piece of promising clay last year, as like or not they give it another digging over, lest they miss some stones that have sprouted in the meantime. Thus half the labour is wasted labour, and the diamond miners of India don't get on at all."

Medical treatment, 1880s

Globe, Wednesday 6th October 1886.
Gas suffocation.
The recent fatal quarry and colliery incidents have brought to the fore certain local remedies for suffocation by gases. One popular remedy in particular has been much ridiculed, and stoutly defended. The treatment recommended is that of placing the body of the patient face downwards on a steep incline to facilitate the escape of the heavy poisonous gases; and this method is coupled in many mining districts with the application of newly turned up earth or of water.

These remedies have been handed down among miners from generation to generation; but their scientific value is not very apparent. In the case of a colliery explosion, suffocation is produced by carbonic acid. Of the gases produced by an explosion of blasting powder, about 55 per cent. is carbonic acid, 25 per cent. nitrogen, and 15 per cent. carbonic oxide - a particularly poisonous gas.

Now, part of this popular treatment depends upon the fact that a heavy gas, such as carbonic acid, can be poured out downwards - a fact which, in the first place, would not affect those lighter gases, carbonic oxide and nitrogen. Then, however efficatious this method may be in the case of carbonic acid, it does not meet the difficulty that this fatal gas has already largely entered the lungs. No amount of downward tilting can counteract the effects of the gas which has thus been inhaled: they can only be neutralised by a free supply of oxygen. It is probable, therefore, that the miners' superstition is only in this way valuable.

Agitation of the body serves, as in the case of a drowned person, to stimulate the action of the lungs, and induce them to inhale oxygen. The further addition of newly-turned earth or water is probably only useful as a means of refreshing and reviving the drooping system. This is not the only case in which a valuable remedy is found in general use, coupled with a complete misconception of the manner in which it operated.

Wales, 1910s

Sunderland Daily Echo and Shipping Gazette, 27th May 1911.
Miner's superstition.

Women, like rabbits, are held to be ill-omened creatures to have about a mine. So strong is this superstition that in some districts that the miners would refuse to descend if a woman crossed their path on the way to the mine. A curious instance occurred a few years since in Wales, where a woman was employed as a pit-head messenger. She was continually meeting the miners going to their work, and so strong was their superstition, says the "Daily Chronicle," that after a day or two a deputation of them waited on the manager and declared that they would all stop work unless the woman was dismissed.

Arizona, 1880s

Dundee Evening Telegraph, Tuesday 26th February 1889.
Arizona's "Queen Midas."

Arizona has a "Queen Midas" as well as Australia. Her name - one of good omen - is Miss Cashman. She pushes out to the newest camps; gives her judgment upon the probabilities of the various mines; backs her judgment with her money, and is seldom mistaken. The miners are superstitious, and believe that Miss Cashman brings them luck, and they are willing to give her a share of any mine which she approves, knowing that its price will be at once advanced by her indorsement.