Today marks the anniversary of one of Workington’s worst industrial disasters – but it is unlikely to be remembered or marked by the majority of people, writes Patrick Robertson.
On July 28 1837, 24 men and two boys died in a disaster at the inter-joined Isabella, Union, and Lady pits.
The roof gave way and the sea rushed in. There were 57 workers in the mine, 30 of whom managed to escape but the 24 men and two boys were overtaken by the water and perished.
The histories of castles and great houses and their inhabitants are well documented, but we know far less about our everyday heritage.
From mines, steelworks, foundries to, factories, farms, and shipyards, these are the places where many of our people would have worked and, in some cases, died or been left gravely injured.
Our heritage is what we have inherited from the past, to value and enjoy in the present, and to preserve and pass on to future generations. Our heritage belongs to us all and should be accessible to everyone.
We want to explore these untold stories and celebrate the people and places at the heart of our town’s history. I am eternally grateful to the hardworking staff at Workington’s Helena Thompson Museum and to the members of the Workington Heritage Group in actively helping and promoting our town to achieve these aims and objectives.
Influencing everything from our attitudes, language, and even our sense of humour, mining of the Workington and local coalfield extends back to at least the 17th century.
But it was not until the 18th century that coal mining really took hold, culminating in 1802, when the coalfield was producing 65,309 tons of coal a year.
It was the availability of both coal and iron ore which helped our town’s mining and industrial heritage and shaped our region’s identity – coupled with the Workington port facility and the arrival of the railways in 1845, which furthered the development of the iron and steel industry in the town.
Throughout this period, the town of Workington was expanding rapidly to house the increasing workforce, and its development was aligned to that of the coal and steel industries.
Every aspect of local life revolved around the collieries, closeknit communities were made with their own social clubs, and miners galas and welfares, villages like Clifton, Siddick and Flimby and others owed their existence to coal.
The collieries even extend to our dialect with pitmatic terms such as marra, clarts, high sider and jameater still infiltrating our every day language to this day.
But the mining and industrial profession could be dangerous.
It is one of monumental risk, unacceptable levels of injury and death and a story of working-class exploitation caused by unsound and dangerous mine working practices in the pursuit of profit.
Earlier deaths had occurred at Bella (Isabella) on September 21 1833: Firedamp explosion, 13 miners perished. Three of them were children only 10 years of age.
Three Brennan brothers from the same family also died and their mother Mrs Brennan carried one of her dead sons out of the mine. Her husband was also severely injured in the same explosion.
A further explosion on February 6 1835 would see another five lives lost.
Total aggregate recorded deaths at these mine workings were 67 – pre-1850 there was no systematic recording of mining deaths.
Mining has always been a dangerous occupation. Nationally, there have been 85,000 deaths between 1873 and 1953 and as many as 1,800 in a single year.
Casualty lists and contemporary reports for Isabella pit can be viewed at the Helena Thompson Museum, Durham Mining Museum or Northern Mine Research Society sites.
We can only learn where we are going from where we have been.
