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When you think of British Coal Mining, you think of Wales, Notts, and the NE, etc, so this piece came as a surprise to me, especially as the Somerset mines were still working into my lifetime.
The group gathers beside the skeleton of its industry.
By West Country Life | Posted: February 22, 2014
So familiar is this body of buildings in which they stand that the men could find their way around in the dark.
Ludlows Colliery in Radstock no longer surrenders the coal which warmed the heart of the nation and put food on the table of its labourers. They put their hearts into the North Somerset coalfields, and some of them stand before us.
Bryan Mann controls his frustration at his reliance on his supporting stick. The former roadman, aged 84, drove the tunnels, going in before the miners, finding coal, boring 56 holes seven feet long, blasting them, then sending out the rubbish.
David Wilcox, aged 79, a shaftsman, of sturdy frame, points out the architecture which remains.
Railway lines were where horses pulled coal wagons to the railway networks of the Great Western and the Somerset and Dorset. Later horses gave way to a tractor.
Francis Hillier, aged 84, a former wages clerk at Ludlows, and chairman of the Miners' Trust, offers a serious side to the banter in his ear, his sight set on the past. Peering into the boot of his car he reveals a "guss and crook", a rope and iron hook, a device which lacks subtlety and was unique to the Somerset coalfield.
It was worn by young boys to drag coal in a "putt": "It scarred youngsters for life, they cried for weeks on end. Their sores were treated with urine," he said.
"Mining was very cruel, deaths common-place," he says. "There were two jobs to go to as careers, either underground or farming. A lot of people who went underground were very well-read, but there were only these two choices in this part of the world."
Francis began his colliery life in 1943. Then there were 13 pits and more than 3,000 miners. In 1901 there had been 79 collieries producing 1,250,000 tonnes a year, but they gradually became more uneconomic and the last mine closed in 1973.
At Pensford colliery black is still the dominant colour. Then the heavy rain brings a ruddy orange into the spectrum. Rainwater runs down the bricks of the remaining generating house and winding house.
Bill Morris, along with brothers Robert and Ernie Bailey, have returned to their old place of work. The three live in Pensford and for a few years worked together. Bill also worked in Radstock. Ernie worked for Pensford and Bromley Collieries Ltd, the site of which he picks out with the precision of an eyewitness in the direction of the north west from where the storm clouds swept in with bitter ferocity.
"When the pit closed it broke up the village a bit," says Ernie an electrician who worked under ground.
Robert Bailey, a stint measurer stands rigid against the biting wind reflecting on the November of 1958 when the last shift departed and entered history.
Ken Payne, aged 79, is the only former miner still living in a miners cottage, built around 1834 at Whitelands in Radstock. He worked at four pits, starting at Old Mills at the age of 15. He was on the coalface at 17, and as he talks his hand reveals an old injury with the top half of a finger missing. He worked at Old Mills, New Rock, Kilmersdon and Writhlington.
Bryn Hawkins left school at the age of 14 and was annoyed that he could not go down the pit until 15 years of age. He lived at Camerton and trained at Old Mills mining training college. He worked as an engineer at Norton Hill, Writhlington and Old Mills.
Bryn nonchalantly delivers a parting statement: "If there is anything I can do for you…" Words delivered by a man who spent years aware that his own life and those of his mining colleagues were bound as one. Also revealing that he and his Miners Trust companions are still at work just… below the surface. :shock:
Read more: http://www.westerndailypress.co.uk/grou ... z2u3DWGUHo
With several photos.
The group gathers beside the skeleton of its industry.
By West Country Life | Posted: February 22, 2014
So familiar is this body of buildings in which they stand that the men could find their way around in the dark.
Ludlows Colliery in Radstock no longer surrenders the coal which warmed the heart of the nation and put food on the table of its labourers. They put their hearts into the North Somerset coalfields, and some of them stand before us.
Bryan Mann controls his frustration at his reliance on his supporting stick. The former roadman, aged 84, drove the tunnels, going in before the miners, finding coal, boring 56 holes seven feet long, blasting them, then sending out the rubbish.
David Wilcox, aged 79, a shaftsman, of sturdy frame, points out the architecture which remains.
Railway lines were where horses pulled coal wagons to the railway networks of the Great Western and the Somerset and Dorset. Later horses gave way to a tractor.
Francis Hillier, aged 84, a former wages clerk at Ludlows, and chairman of the Miners' Trust, offers a serious side to the banter in his ear, his sight set on the past. Peering into the boot of his car he reveals a "guss and crook", a rope and iron hook, a device which lacks subtlety and was unique to the Somerset coalfield.
It was worn by young boys to drag coal in a "putt": "It scarred youngsters for life, they cried for weeks on end. Their sores were treated with urine," he said.
"Mining was very cruel, deaths common-place," he says. "There were two jobs to go to as careers, either underground or farming. A lot of people who went underground were very well-read, but there were only these two choices in this part of the world."
Francis began his colliery life in 1943. Then there were 13 pits and more than 3,000 miners. In 1901 there had been 79 collieries producing 1,250,000 tonnes a year, but they gradually became more uneconomic and the last mine closed in 1973.
At Pensford colliery black is still the dominant colour. Then the heavy rain brings a ruddy orange into the spectrum. Rainwater runs down the bricks of the remaining generating house and winding house.
Bill Morris, along with brothers Robert and Ernie Bailey, have returned to their old place of work. The three live in Pensford and for a few years worked together. Bill also worked in Radstock. Ernie worked for Pensford and Bromley Collieries Ltd, the site of which he picks out with the precision of an eyewitness in the direction of the north west from where the storm clouds swept in with bitter ferocity.
"When the pit closed it broke up the village a bit," says Ernie an electrician who worked under ground.
Robert Bailey, a stint measurer stands rigid against the biting wind reflecting on the November of 1958 when the last shift departed and entered history.
Ken Payne, aged 79, is the only former miner still living in a miners cottage, built around 1834 at Whitelands in Radstock. He worked at four pits, starting at Old Mills at the age of 15. He was on the coalface at 17, and as he talks his hand reveals an old injury with the top half of a finger missing. He worked at Old Mills, New Rock, Kilmersdon and Writhlington.
Bryn Hawkins left school at the age of 14 and was annoyed that he could not go down the pit until 15 years of age. He lived at Camerton and trained at Old Mills mining training college. He worked as an engineer at Norton Hill, Writhlington and Old Mills.
Bryn nonchalantly delivers a parting statement: "If there is anything I can do for you…" Words delivered by a man who spent years aware that his own life and those of his mining colleagues were bound as one. Also revealing that he and his Miners Trust companions are still at work just… below the surface. :shock:
Read more: http://www.westerndailypress.co.uk/grou ... z2u3DWGUHo
With several photos.
