Former mine worker, John Talbot, tells about his life at Manners Colliery, Ilkeston, Around 1890. As the days passed I had many aches and pains, including sore feet, due to the long distance we had to walk, to and from our place of work, 4.1/2 miles from the pit bottom.
The road was very rough and the roof low, and would have tested the endurance of any athlete.
Brinsley pit around 1910,
Photo by Rev F. W. Cobb |
Misfortune
After a few weeks I had the misfortune to lose the front of my left thumb by falling on to a revolving haulage pulley, which put me off work for two months.
After being back at work about six months, I was moved off the haulage road to learn pony driving, or as they called it in pit terms, "ganging". That was taking the empty wagons to the men at the coal face and bringing back the full ones.
I went with a regular pony driver and was called a "hint lad". My driver was a youth named Amos Bostock, who was very experienced. His pony, a grey named Boldon, was more like a miniature shire horse, and as strong as an elephant, but very difficult to control. |
Good drink
After a few weeks, I was told to fetch Boldon from the stables as my workmate was going as a loader on the coal face.
Every morning I put on his gear and saw he had a good drink before setting off.
Arriving on the district my first job was to get his shafts on, easier said than done as these ponies knew every move one made. They knew that when the shafts were on it meant work, so they did everything they could to prevent you getting them On. |
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They'd kick, bite, spin around and many times bolt off. If you tied them to the timbers they would bite at the reins or rope, kicking at the same time.
Hectic times
Many hectic times were spent trying to get those shafts on, and many times finishing up in the dark, the pony having kicked the lamp out before bolting. It was then a case of staying put until another driver came along.
Sometimes the pony made his way back to the stables. Pit ponies, in many ways are like human beings, all individuals.
They did respond to kind treatment as quite a number of ponies underground were ill-treated. When a considerate driver came along, it took a long time, and lots of patience and kindness before he would respond.
One day, bringing three wagons of coal down a long inclined narrow roadway, with very little room over the top, the sides of the wagons rubbing the sides of the roadway, I was riding on the shaft iron, a narrow, curved rod connecting the shafts to the leading wagon.
I was crouched down on this iron with my hands on the shafts, and my head tucked well down against the pony's rump when he began to gather speed. I then realised a wooden locker in the wheel had broken.
If I tried to jump off, I would be trapped, and if I could not stop him, we were in for a crash because the speed would make it impossible for the pony to hold the weight of the wagons. |
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Choking
As we came hurtling down dust blew into my face nearly choking me, but it was becoming impossible to alter any position which was becoming more dangerous.
Suddenly I was jerked backwards knocking my lamp out. The wagons had come to a stop, off the rails, tipped up with me underneath, my foot trapped between the axle and the rails. I lay there for a few minutes, afraid that one of the tubs of coal may fall, then felt around and found the tubs of coal were stacked on the rails. Suddenly, I saw a glimmer of light. They were coming to look for me.
We returned to the pony, made sure he was all right. They righted the tubs of coal, and we were on our way once more.
But what an ordeal to be in complete darkness. It was like being blind with one's eyes wide open.
Parkhouse Pit, or Catty Pit as it was better known cl890, showing Gaffer Dunn, attired in carpet slippers and smoking-cap together with the ostler and banksman and an audience of children witnessing a pit pony being brought up the pit. This particular pit was sunk in May 1868, when the general manager Charles Binns entertained l00 workmen to dinner at the Queens Head Inn. Mr. George Howe was in charge of sinking operations and Mr. H. Green was the main contractor. Both shafts were 195 yards deep and 12ft. 6ins. and 1Oft. in diameter.
In 1882, an explosion of firedamp at this pit killed 45 men and boys. See disasters |
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