The Seaham Colliery Disaster
My grandmother’s middle name was Clark. She was Audrey Clark Bullock. The Clark was from her grandmother, Ellen Sarah Clark. Ellen Sarah Clark was born in the mining town of Seaham in County Durham. Her parents had migrated there from rural Norfolk on the promise of well paid and steady work. Seaham was a small village on the North Sea coast that expanded during the 19th century as the coal mines and the harbour where the coal was transported from brought wealth, trade and people to the area.
My grandma’s notes:
The harbour at Seaham was built by Lord Londonderry between 1828 and 1835 to ship out the coal from his wife’s collieries at Rainton. The new town of Seaham Harbour was built around the docks and until 1850 a high proportion of the inhabitants were seamen. During the eighteen-thirties and forties other coal owners built railways from Hetton, Merton and Haswell to ship their coal from Londonderry’s harbour.In the 1850's further expansion began in the town of Seaham, Two collieries, the High Pit and the Low Pit, were sunk, close together about one mile from the harbour near the Mill Inn. The colliery village which grew up round the pits was known as Nicky-Nack or Seaham Colliery. New streets were built round the pithead. Lady Londonderry built a new church, Christchurch, in memory of her husband. Wesleyan and Primitive Methodist Chapels and two schools and 2 reading rooms were built. In 1866 a writer commended Seaham Colliery’s “roomy dwellings, good gardens and wide streets”. Workers flooded into the area. Many came from Northumberland and Durham but others came from Cornwall and from Ireland. Some had children born in Australia. The street names reflected these connections, Australia Row and Cornish Row. The coal owners of the time sent agents to recruit men in rural areas where wages were low, and several men at Seaham came from Norfolk. Among them was James Clark who left Norfolk with his wife and family between 1864 and 1867.
James Clark was Ellen Sarah’s father. He originally came from Norfolk. He moved with his second wife, Sarah Whittleton and their son, Elijah, along with his son from his first marriage, James William. They probably moved up as part of a group recruited to work in the mine from Norfolk. His first wife, Susan Clarke died in 1862 - I always assume young women die as a result of complications of pregnancy or childbirth.
My grandma’s notes:
There used to be a kitchen table and chest of drawers said to have come with them from Norfolk and I have 2 large meat plates which belonged to them.
They settled first near Chester-le-Street at Breckon Hill, Little Lumley, where James was a furnaceman at the pit. Two more children were born at Lumley, Ellen in 1867 and George in 1870. They moved to Seaham and in 1871 were living in Office Row, Seaham Colliery. As well as their three children they had living with them James William, James’ son by his first marriage. Their youngest child, Mary Jane, was born at New Seaham in 1875. The family attended the Primitive Methodist Chapel at Seaham Colliery. I have 3 small books which Ellen received as prizes at the Sabbath School in 1874, 1875 and 1876. In 1879 Elijah went on a trip to London and brought bock another small book as a present for Ellen.
I assume rural life was hard and they were tempted up to the North East with the promise of newly built housing, schools, churches and steady work. I think nowadays moving from Norfolk to County Durham wouldn’t seem such a huge journey but it would have been a huge endeavour. How did they move all of their stuff with them? And what was it like to settle so far from the family and friends they knew? How did Sarah find having small children in a strange place without her mother, sisters, aunts, cousins, friends to help her with the kids? Coal mining was difficult, dangerous work and it must have been a big risk to take it on.
The disaster
Disasters were not unknown in the pits and the one in 1880 was certainly not the first in Seaham. To find out what happened in 1880, I looked for newspaper reports at the time. Without TV or radio, the only medium for news was the printed newspaper. Victorian news reporting seems different from today. Those newspapers are densely printed, with columns of small font type and only a few images or adverts. Reports can also be more detailed than we’re used to. I found they were like the print version of rolling news. Blow-by-blow accounts of what was happening for their readers.
The Times, Thursday 8th September 1880
Terrible Colliery Explosion
Newcastle-on-Tyne, Wednesday 10pm
A disaster which seems to be of appalling magnitude occurred this morning at Seaham Colliery, Durham, the property of the Marquis of Londonderry. About 2 o’clock there was a loud report, followed by an upheaval of dust and smoke, mingled with shrieks, from the pit shaft. Those above ground could not fail to understand that some great disaster had occurred, but they were no prepared for a calamity of the extent which an examination of the workings disclosed.
The Durham County Advertiser, Friday September 10 1880
Terrible Colliery Explosion at Seaham Supposed loss of 150 lives. Rescue of 67 survivors. The pit on fire.
The number of men in the pit
The explosion happened about half-past two o’clock on Wednesday morning the shift of men at present entombed in the mine had gone in at ten ‘clock the previous night. It was reported that 240 lamps were given out, but it is now known that not so large a number of hands descended. It is certain, however, that over 200 men and boys went down, the boys, perhaps numbering thirty. The shift consisted largely of shifters, stonemen, and tub loaders. Of these, twenty men and boys proceed to the main coal seam, and the safety of nine of these men and lads is assured. The number in the mine would have been very much larger except for a fortunate exercise of discretion on the part of the manager of the colliery, Mr Stratton. A deputation of men waited upon Mr Stratton to solicit his permission for the following shift to go to work two or three hours earlier in order that the men and lads might be enabled to attend Seaham Harbour Flower Show, which was announced to be held on Wednesday; but out of consideration, in some way, for the boys, Mr Stratton refused his assent to the proposed alteration in the hours of work. Had it been other wise, there would have been, in all likelihood, a double shift of men in the colliery at the time of the explosion.
Imagine how annoyed you would have been, asking to change your shift so you could go to the flower show and being denied. Imagine how very relieved you would have been that the manager said no.
The Times: “The pitmen of the colliery have large gardens attached to their well-built houses and are keen competitors for prizes.”
The Durham County Advertiser has a really detailed report, describing the mine, the explosions, and including eye-witness reports from lots of different people. Seaham Colliery is described as being one of the largest in the county. Between 1400 and 1500 men and boys were employed. The Colliery was comprised of three pits.
The noise caused by the explosion was tremendous. It was followed by a dense volume of smoke emerging from the pit shaft, covering everything with soot. A slight westerly breeze was blowing at the time, and the cloud was taken over the town of Seaham. Within a short time after the explosion occurred, hundreds of people were to be seen wending their way to the pit mouth anxiously inquiring the cause of the strange noise that was heard.
The Times “There are about 1600 men employed at the colliery altogether, and they work three shifts per day or seven hours each; so that the full complement of men in the pit at one time would not be less than 500.”
The manager Mr Stratton and the “under-viewer” Mr Turnbull were at the pit as quickly as possible. They both went down to see what had happened about 4am. They found that No. 1 and No. 2 shafts were completely blocked with cages and wreckage. However, they also found that some of the men down there were alive as they could hear them. They were joined by managers and engineers from all over the north-east to help them in the rescue operations.
In 1880, James Clark would have been around 47 years old. His wife, Sarah Ann was a couple of years older. James William Clark would have been around 20. James’s and Sarah Ann’s children were Elijah (16), Ellen Sarah (13), George Whittleton (10), and Mary Jane (6). In the 1881 census (6-7 months after the disaster), Sarah Ann and her children were living at 23 Doctors Street. We can assume that’s where they were living at the time of the disaster itself. This street doesn’t exist today. All these houses were probably cleared in the 1930s as part of the slum clearance act. https://east-durham.co.uk/new-seaham-colliery/ This site has a good description of the houses at that time. Although they were newly built they probably weren’t built to the highest standards.
I have an image of a map of the area from the 1890s and you can see how close all the houses were to the colliery itself. Of course everyone was woken up by an explosion happening just at the end of their street. So, what did Sarah Ann do? Did she run down to the pit with everyone else to find out what was happening? Did she send Elijah down? Or did she rely on neighbours to relay what was happening?
The reaction
That morning at 6am the Rev. W. A. Scott held a prayer meeting in the parish church with a congregation of friends and relatives of the trapped miners. At that point none of them would have known if they were alive or dead.
Demeanour of the crowd
The news of the explosion had spread throughout the county with great rapidity, and the trains were crowded with people from all parts, anxious to learn the cause and extent of the catastrophe. Between three and four o'clock many thousands of people were congregated round the pit mouth. There was, however, none of these heartrending scenes which follow in the wake of these disasters, for although many of the wives and nearest relations of the entombed miners were present they did not give way to their grief, as the full extent of the catastrophe was then unknown. A calm silence was observed among the spectators, and for hours they patiently stood around the pit mouth, hope and fear alternately taking possession of their feelings.
Durham County Advertiser
Around midday, three men were rescued from no. 1 shaft. Ralph Marley was one of those men and the interview with him appears in different reports of the disaster.
“At the time of the explosion I was working in the main seam. I had gone down the pit at ten o’clock the previous night, and was working with other four men at a distance of 1200 yards from the shaft. Other fourteen men were working behind us, but within sight. At about twenty minutes past two o’clock this morning I heard a report and felt a blast of air. The wind blew out some of our lamps. One of us said a fall had taken place, and he went to see if he could find out what had taken place.” He then describes how they went back to the shaft to see if they could get out, they found a colleague who was bruised and battered from falling debris and that their way out was blocked. He mentions the air quality a lot. It would have been a rational fear that the air would fill with carbon monoxide and that the ventilation was just blocked and they’d run out of oxygen. Not to mention that if they lost all their lamps they’d be in pitch black darkness. They were in a fairly good situation as they could get to the shaft - food and tea could be sent down to them and they still had good air. “We were all stone men who were down the pit, except that there were six hewers. I have worked in the pit for twelve months, always in the main seam and never saw gas.”
This article describes the different roles in the mine.
Both James Clark and James William Clark were hewers, “which meant lying for hours in a cramped position hewing away at the coal face.”
The rescue operations continued all day. Mr Stratton, the manager, seems to have been at work since he arrived at the pit around 2.30am. By that evening, he had cleared a way to no. 3 shaft and men could be rescued from there.
The Times:
There 165 men are still imprisoned. The knockings from down below, however, indicate that some men still survive, and it is to rescue these men that the 16 brave men [in No. 1 shaft] in the main seam prefer to remain immured rather than stop for a few minutes the work of rescuing their less fortunate comrades.
The journalist of the Durham County Advertiser then goes on to describe the scene at midnight - nearly 24 hours after the explosion.
The whole of the men on the main coal seam have now been recovered, and the latest account states that the 40 men in the Hutton seam had been got out of No. 3… No more men are expected to be recovered, and eminent authority states that it may fairly be assumed that about 130 bodies will have to be recovered. Explorers in the Maudlin seam give a shocking account of the men lying by the side of the way where they have been knocked down. Many are stark naked, the explosion having stripped the clothes off. Heads have been torn off in some cases, and legs and arms in others.The Times reports:
A woman named Featt dropped down dead on being told that her brother was among the victims. Women who may be widowed and children who may be fatherless are waiting drearily in the roadways leading to the colliery.
Durham County Advertiser September 17th 1880
The terrible calamity has naturally evoked deep interest throughout the country generally; but over the great northern coalfield, where so many thousands are more or less subject to dire mishaps, it has been the all-absorbing topic. For days since the occurrence crowds have travelled by rail from all the country round in order to visit the scene of the catastrophe; and as long as daylight lasted, and often for hours together, the pit hill and its approaches have been thronged with persons eager to catch a glimpse of the operations going on within the barriers which excluded them from a nearer inspection.
The home secretary visited the site with Lord Castlereagh, the son of the Marquess of Londonderry, along with the Marquess. This article also listed the names of the dead men so far recovered, along with their job role, age and marital status. “The full complement of dead at 161, which leaves a total of 105 widows, 126 sons, 139 daughters and six mothers and grandchildren, leaving the total of more or less dependent relatives at 382.”
The journalist goes on to describe the funeral of two men, father and son, in Christchurch. The church was draped in black. The organist was a pitman, Mr Birkbeck, who had overslept and missed his shift otherwise he would have been down the pit at the time of the explosion. Three of the choir were victims of the disaster. “We never before saw a congregation so deeply moved. The organist was so strongly affected that at times his feelings almost over powered him, and there was scarcely a dry eye in the church.”
The journalist reproduced the vicar’s sermon from the funeral of several of the victims,
He had dwelt and laboured amongst them for three-and-twenty years. He knew them well; but he never loved and admired them as he did that day. There were men who when duty called never hung back, but went into that terrible pit. God had given them not only muscle and bone, but a resolute heart and an undaunted spirit, to face death and danger in the fiery pit and they had faced it. The men they were to bury were representative.
The number of spectators for the funerals of all the men was reported to be over 35,000. This seems unlikely - who knows exactly how many people were there, but I think we can imagine the streets were very crowded. There were a number of police officers in attendance to control the crowds. “The vicar seemed much agitated and distressed, and the emotion was general, one seeing on every hand eyes red with weeping.”
Among the analysis of the cause of the explosion and the organisation of the relief fund for the dependents of the victims, is this snippet.A curious story is also recorded concerning the recovery of the pit cat, which has been found alive in the stables. It was in a terribly distressed condition, and its eyes were almost starting out of its head. This is the second explosion the cat has gone through.
The inquest into all the deaths has already started. This is all from the 17th September and James Clark and James William Clark’s name are not among those of the dead who have been recovered. But the progress of retrieval operations is slowed down due to the dangerous conditions in the pit.
The funerals of James Clark and his son took place on Monday 20th September at Seaham Colliery Church (Christ Church), according to the Shields Daily Gazette and Shipping Telegraph on Tuesday 21st September.
Apparently it was at the funeral that George Pickering (my great-great-grandfather) first saw Ellen Sarah Clark. George Pickering was from Seaham Harbour, but from the railway community.
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| George and Ellen Pickering with their daughters Ellen, Florence, Edith and Alice around 1905 |
The village was stunned by the catastrophe. In some streets almost every house had drawn blinds denoting a bereavement. No children played and men spoke with hushed voices. The bell at Christchurch tolled and frequent prayer meetings were held. The pithead was quiet, the only activity was the coming and going of rescue teams. Funerals were held as the bodies were brought out. One man left a widow and 12 children. At another house 8 men died, father, five sons and two lodgers.
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