The Washington Colliery Explosion
Shortly after midnight on 19th August 1851, the residents of Washington, Co. Durham are sound asleep in their beds. It was a still, quiet night, broken suddenly a short while ago by a distant rumbling, like thunder on the horizon. Out of the darkness, there comes a shrill cry.
“She’s fired!” it calls. “She’s fired!”
The voice reverberates and grows, and soon, the lone voice is a chorus, rousing men, women, and children from their slumbers. Sleep and dreams are left firmly behind on their pillows.
At hearing the words, they immediately know what has occurred. There’s been an explosion deep under the ground in the mine shafts beneath their feet.
The people rush to the colliery, half-dressed and anxious, worried about their men and boys, their fathers, husbands, and sons. Screams and wails fill the air from some, while others stand silently swaying, trying to process what has happened. Many prayers are uttered into the darkness.
The explanation of why and how such a disaster could have occurred is not immediately forthcoming. There are whispers and gossip amongst the anxious people waiting, though, talk that their husbands and sons had previously relayed to them. Such an accident was to be expected, said some. It was inevitable, said others.
But the gossip isn’t essential. For now, there are more pressing matters to deal with. They first need to recover the bodies of the dead and the dying. The miners and spectators feel lost and helpless, unsure of what action to take. The colliery viewer, Mr Christopher Croudace, has gone to London — he should be the one making the decisions.
Unable to stand about doing nothing, George Hutchinson, a 60-year-old furnacemen, goes down the pit at around 1 o’clock. He doesn’t return, so a second furnaceman, John Errington, goes down a few hours later.
John Errington was my 3x great-grandfather.
He was born in Washington on 12th March 1802, the son of George Errington and Margaret Gilderoy. In December of 1833, he married Isabella Taylor, and together, they had three daughters: Mary in 1835, Margaret in 1838, and Isabella in 1841.
John seems to have worked in a number of collieries in Durham and Northumberland, but by August 1851, he and his family had returned to Washington.
On the day of the disaster, John went into the pit at around 4 a.m. It was his usual shift. Like George Hutchinson, John didn’t return.
The colliery officials gathered, and it was not until 5 a.m., an hour after John went down, that the extent of the disaster could be ascertained. This was due to the “foul state of the air,” which seeped out of the mine into the world above. Air courses needed to be first established, as it was otherwise impossible to reach the part of the mine where the explosion had occurred.
Eventually, bodies were brought to the bank above. John Errington was the first. He was alive, but only just.
John was found about 100 yards away from the furnace — he hadn’t reached it before the foul air had overwhelmed him. He had two Davy safety lamps in his possession, though only one was lit. George Hutchinson was brought out soon after. He, too, was barely alive.
(Davy lamps were invented to stop such explosions from occurring. A basic lamp was fitted with metal gauze. The light could still pass through, but the gauze absorbed the heat from the flame, preventing it from heating any flammable gases and causing an explosion. The flame would change colour, alerting the miners to gases around them.)
Forty men had been working in the mine at the time of the accident, of which eight had managed to escape. Thirty-two men and boys were reported to have died, as well as two horses and five donkeys.
They either died as a result of the explosion or due to the foul air. This was known as choke-damp or after-damp — a deadly mix of noxious gases.
The bodies of the dead were ferried back to their family homes. The scenes of distress and abject grief were too painful to be described.
Frederick Denbigh Jones, a surgeon who lived in Washington, attended to John Errington. He saw him shortly after he was brought to the bank between 11 a.m. and noon that same day.
“His respiration was imperfect, his pulse feeble and countenance flushed; the eyes prominent and glistening,” he reported. “Symptoms caused by the affection from the choke-damp.”
John may even have been delirious. “It is not customary for people to be sensible when affected by choke-damp,” said the doctor.
The surgeon saw George Hutchinson shortly after. He was in an even worse condition than John. He could feel no pulse at his wrist; his breathing was so shallow it almost went unnoticed, and he was cold all over.
John Errington died later that night. George Hutchinson lingered for a few hours more, dying in the early hours of the following morning. Their deaths brought the total number of victims to 34.
Dr Jones expressed regret. He attended them as best he could.
An inquest was held in the days after. The Washington disaster was news all over the country, many people being eager to learn how such a thing could have happened, how 34 men and boys could have died.
It was established that John Errington and George Hutchinson had “perished after the explosion in endeavouring to penetrate the mine to reach the place where the explosion had occurred.” Both men were proclaimed as heroes.
The jury was satisfied that the two men had died from the effects of after-damp, and a verdict of accidental death was given.
Miners, men who knew John and the other victims personally, spoke at inquiries and inquests, sharing their knowledge of working in the pit. It was considered relatively safe to use candles down there, though they would switch to Davy lamps if there were any indication of gas.
One miner, John Bird, said he’d spoken with his workmates that fateful night. He was concerned about the state of the air down in the pit, troubled by the appearance of his candle. Though he did admit, it wasn’t as bad as it had been earlier in the week.
The eight men who managed to escape the explosion were grateful for their candles, which had alerted them to the presence of gas. They jumped and rushed out of the pit shortly before the explosion, though some were burnt and injured.
Other miners corroborated John Bird’s evidence. Many had feared something catastrophic happening, but when they had reported their anxieties to the mining deputies, they were fobbed off and told that everything was all right and above board. Those same deputies also died in the explosion.
The mine itself was considered predisposed to fire because of earlier issues and smaller-scale accidents. The last major accident had occurred 23 years prior.
The jury’s verdict came back, and they believed that the fire and subsequent explosion were caused by gases coming into contact with a naked flame. They stressed that safety lamps, such as Davy’s, should have been used, what with the mine’s history.
John Errington was laid to rest in the churchyard of Holy Trinity, Washington, on 21st August 1851. He left a widow and three young daughters to mourn his tragic end.
References:
- Initial reports of explosion at Washington — Newcastle Courant, 22nd August 1851, britishnewspaperarchive.com.
- Details of John and Isabella’s marriage and children — various parish records, findmypast.com & durhamrecordsonline.com.
- The birth certificate of Isabella Errington, 1st Quarter, 1841, Easington district, General Record Office.
- Inquest on John Errington and George Hutchinson — Durham County Advertiser, 5th September 1851, britishnewspaperarchive.com.
- Information on Davy lamps — rigb.com.
