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.
[...]
Saturday 11 January 2020
Friday 10 January 2020
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!
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.
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."
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. [...]
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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. [...]
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.
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."
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.
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.
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.
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.
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