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. [...]
Showing posts with label 1940s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1940s. Show all posts
Friday, 10 January 2020
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.
Monday, 6 February 2017
More Cornish mining traditions by Herbert Richards.
About a century ago, when mining was in full swing in Cornwall, Cornish miners were very superstitious. To this day many of the old beliefs remain.
In the old mining days it was considered unlucky to make the form of a cross on the side of a mine, and on no account must one whistle for fear of vexing the "knackers" and by so doing bring ill luck; but one could sing or even swear, without producing any ill effect.
In one mine, a black cat was often seen to descend, but was never seen at the bottom of the mine. A white rabbit forbode an accident; a hand clasping the ladder and coming down with or after a miner foretold misfortune.
Snails were known in West Cornwall as bullhorns and if a miner met one on his way to the mine he always dropped a bit of his dinner or some grease from his lantern before him, for good luck.
Strange dreams were sometimes related, warning miners from going underground on certain days with their comrades, when serious accidents have happened and many miners lost their lives.
Rich lodes, too, were said to have been discovered through the dreams of fortunate women who have been shown in them where their male comrades should dig for the hidden treasure.
A miner going down the mine with his shoes on would drive all the mineral out of the mine.
In 1886, at St. Just-in-Penwith, two men of Wheal Drea, had their hats burnt on Monday morning after the birth of their first children.
Three hundred fathoms down at Cooks Kitchen Mine, near Camborne, swarms of flies, known by the miners as Mother Margarets, could be heard buzzing, being bred in the dark; they had a great dislike to light.
Swallows were said to spend the winter in deep and disused Cornish mines. It was their custom to sing at seeing the first swallow appear.
A water-wagtail, called by miners "a tinner," perched on a window-sill, was the sign that a stranger was coming. Part of an old song often sung by miners was: "Here's to the Devil
With his wooden spade and shovel,
Digging tin by the bushel
With his tail cocked up."
Dowsing in West Cornwall with a hazel was used to discover a vein of ore. The twig was held closely in the hand, the point towards the dowser's breast. It turned round when the holder stood over a vein of metal.
The Cornishman, 15th March 1945.
In the old mining days it was considered unlucky to make the form of a cross on the side of a mine, and on no account must one whistle for fear of vexing the "knackers" and by so doing bring ill luck; but one could sing or even swear, without producing any ill effect.
In one mine, a black cat was often seen to descend, but was never seen at the bottom of the mine. A white rabbit forbode an accident; a hand clasping the ladder and coming down with or after a miner foretold misfortune.
Snails were known in West Cornwall as bullhorns and if a miner met one on his way to the mine he always dropped a bit of his dinner or some grease from his lantern before him, for good luck.
Strange dreams were sometimes related, warning miners from going underground on certain days with their comrades, when serious accidents have happened and many miners lost their lives.
Rich lodes, too, were said to have been discovered through the dreams of fortunate women who have been shown in them where their male comrades should dig for the hidden treasure.
A miner going down the mine with his shoes on would drive all the mineral out of the mine.
In 1886, at St. Just-in-Penwith, two men of Wheal Drea, had their hats burnt on Monday morning after the birth of their first children.
Three hundred fathoms down at Cooks Kitchen Mine, near Camborne, swarms of flies, known by the miners as Mother Margarets, could be heard buzzing, being bred in the dark; they had a great dislike to light.
Swallows were said to spend the winter in deep and disused Cornish mines. It was their custom to sing at seeing the first swallow appear.
A water-wagtail, called by miners "a tinner," perched on a window-sill, was the sign that a stranger was coming. Part of an old song often sung by miners was: "Here's to the Devil
With his wooden spade and shovel,
Digging tin by the bushel
With his tail cocked up."
Dowsing in West Cornwall with a hazel was used to discover a vein of ore. The twig was held closely in the hand, the point towards the dowser's breast. It turned round when the holder stood over a vein of metal.
The Cornishman, 15th March 1945.
Saturday, 21 January 2017
Nationalisation, 1947
The State mines made a bad start to-day, when, ignoring all appeals, 84,000 Yorkshire miners, representing about 60 per cent. of the total labour force of the pits in the county, stayed away from work. New Year's Day is a statutory holiday for miners, but because of the grave coal shortage, with its threat of large-scale unemployment in industry, appeals had been made to the miners to defer the holiday.
[...] National Coal Board leaders are bitterly disappointed by the absenteeism figures on the very day on which the mines were transferred to the State. The chairman of the Coal Board's North-Eastern Division (Major General Sir Noel G. Holmes) told me to-day: "I am very disappointed at to-day's attendance figures at the pits and I am sure my Board is too. I believe Yorkshire miners are superstitious about working on New Year's Day."
[...]
Yorkshire Post and Leeds Intelligencer, 2nd January 1947.
[...] National Coal Board leaders are bitterly disappointed by the absenteeism figures on the very day on which the mines were transferred to the State. The chairman of the Coal Board's North-Eastern Division (Major General Sir Noel G. Holmes) told me to-day: "I am very disappointed at to-day's attendance figures at the pits and I am sure my Board is too. I believe Yorkshire miners are superstitious about working on New Year's Day."
[...]
Yorkshire Post and Leeds Intelligencer, 2nd January 1947.
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