Fatal Accident at the Coal Pit – Charles Armour

Further to the other blog post about the death of Charles Armour – here is an other extract from the Argyllshire Herald (1875) about his death.

Fatal Accident – An accident occurred in the Trodigal Coal Pit on Tuesday to one of the miners named Charles Armour, which we are sorry to say, terminated fatally on the day following, although at first serious consequences were not apprehended. It appears that while at work in the pit on Tuesday forenoon a mass of coal became detached from the roof or side of the pit and fell upon Armour crushing him severely against one of the hutches. The injured man was promptly rescued and brought to the surface. He was afterwards taken home and Dr. Cunningham sent for, however, gradually sank under the injuries, which were found to be of a very serious nature, and expired on the Wednesday forenoon. He was married and leaves a wife and five of a family.

Extract from the Argyllshire Herald, 1875 on the death of Charles Armour, coal miner, Trodigal. Courtesy of Campbeltown Library and with thanks to Angus Martin.

Accident at Drumlemble Coal Pit – David Brown, coal miner

Extract from the Argyllshire Herald, Saturday 28th August 1886, reporting on an accident at Drumlemble Coal Pit which involved coal miner, David Brown. Courtesy of Campbeltown Library and with thanks to Angus Martin.

John Lambie – Fatal Accident Inquiry

Fatal Accident Enquiry into the death of John Lambie. Campbeltown Courier 13th November, 1926. Courtesy of Netta McShannon

Collier, Robert Hamilton, known as Bobby, remembered by his daughter, Mary

My father Bobby Hamilton was born in 1919, he was a ‘middle ‘child in a family of twelve, six boys and six girls. Sadly my Aunt Agnes MacKenzie, 96 years old is the only remaining sibling. They were brought up at Trodigal Cottage or Bobbins’s Cottage at Kilvivan, between Machrihanish and Drumlemble, The cottage was so called because the my grandfather, Robert, was known as Bobbins.

Four members of the Hamilton Family. L-R Bobby, Agnes, Stewart and Malcolm, Photograph courtesy of Mary Hamilton ©

My father joined the Royal Navy as a volunteer in 1937, and when he was ‘demobbed’ he returned to Kintyre and began working in the Argyll Colliery at Machrihanish. He married Jean MacBrayne in 1948 and they had three children, Sheena, Mary (me) and Robert.

Bobby with his daughter, Sheena. Photograph courtesy of Mary Hamilton. ©

My father had a few accidents whilst working in the Pit and I remember one time, 1960 (I think) that he had hurt his shoulder, back and his left foot. I think coal fell on him.  He could not wear a shoe or slipper and cut his sandal, put holes in the side and crisscrossed this with string and could get this on his foot to walk about in the house. I remember the noise the buckle made when he was walking about. 

My father left the Pit with some other miners from the area, in 1961 or 1962 to work in Corby in Stewart and Lloyds Steel Mills – the idea being that we would eventually move to Corby.

I can remember the Miners Gala days, going to the beach and the Christmas parties, and the old Rex Cinema to see a film.

My mother’s health was not good, however as a child I was unaware of how ill she really was and in March 1964 she was admitted to Campbeltown Hospital. My father came back from Corby.  My mother later transferred to the Western  Infirmary Glasgow and sadly, she died at the age of 46. My father was then a widow caring for three children, aged 13, 11 and 8 years old. He never returned to Corby.  

Not long after my mother died I walked with him to the cemetery and after visiting my mother’s grave, we walked to another gravestone. My father told me that this man had been  one of his closest friends and he had died in an accident in the Pit. This was of course Jimmy Woodcock.  My father had never mentioned this before,  and I never heard him talking about his ordeal being trapped under the coal. [Bobby had a narrow escape in February 1951 when Jimmy Woodcock was killed].

Extract from the Campbeltown Courier, February 1951. Courtesy of Campbeltown Library.

My father had several labouring jobs after this, he worked when the Jetty was being built at the then NATO base down Kikerran Road, then when the oil tanks were being installed and then later as a storeman. This was the only job that he ever spoke about with disdain, as he felt there was not enough to do and he was indoors.  He then worked in the Shipyard and his last employment on retiring was with the local Council, cutting the grass, maintaining the plants.  He enjoyed this as he was outdoors and was a keen gardener.

Mary Hamilton, far right. Photograph: Vicky Middleton ©

My father was a quiet man who loved reading books and poetry.  He never had a television, preferring to listen to the radio.  The poems I remember him reciting to us was Ogden Nash, the Camel, The Lama, etc – nonsense poems when we were young, and then later, some of his favourites, usually when he had a ‘wee dram’.  ‘The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God’ by J.Milton Hayes, ‘The Shooting of Dan McGrew’ by Robert Service and of course anything by Robert Burns.

Bobby Hamilton, left, at Campbeltown Day Hospital. Photograph courtesy of Mary Hamilton ©

My father died in Campbeltown Hospital, aged 86 in 2006.  He is still missed.

Mary Hamilton

Fatal Accident – Sad occurance at the Pit

Mr Neil McAllister – Darlochan, in the Cottage Hospital died this morning from injuries sustained whilst working on the surface at the pit at Trodigal [Machrihanish], Campbeltown Coal Company Ltd, Trodigal. Deceased was employed as a joiner and handyman and he was at his duties on Tuesday morning at the pithead. About ten o’clock he was found lying unconscious having apparently fallen from a height of ten feet. He was seriously injured about the head. Removed to the Cottage Hospital he never regained consciousness and passed away this morning. Coming so soon after the recent fatality at the pit this occurrence has created a feeling of profound sadness among the employees of the Coal Coy. and the whole company will deeply sympathise with the sudden and tragically bereaved.

Deceased, who was 43 years of age, leaves a widow and five of a family (2 sons and 3 daughters) to mourn him.

The funeral takes place on Saturday at 2pm from the Hospital to Kilkerran Cemetery. 

From the Campbeltown Courier, 18th December 1926 and the following is from the Births, deaths and marriages section, on the same page:

McALLISTER – Suddendly at the Cottage Hospital (as the result of an accident). on the 16th inst, Neil McAllister, Darlochan, beloved husband of Margaret McKay – Deeply regretted – Funeral on Saturday, at 2pm from the Cottage Hospital to Kilkerran Cemetery. – Friends please accept this intimation and invitation.

Thanks to Angus Martin.

Fatal Accident at the Drumlembe Pit: John McGeachy

Report in the Argyllshire Herald on the death of John McGeachy, collier at Drumlemble Pit. He was killed in December 1860, aged 23 years old. Thanks to Angus Martin.

Fatal accident at Drumlemble – the death of Donald Kerr

I was looking through the records on the Scottish Mining website to see if there was anything of interest that related to South Kintyre when I came across the following entry.

“1859 July 25th – Drumlemble, Campbeltown (Duke of Argyll) Donald Kerr died aged 40 by getting entangled with the signal wire in the shaft“.

I mentioned this incident to Campbeltown historian and writer, Angus Martin, and he very kindly found this account of the death of Donald Kerr in the Campbeltown Library – this article is from the Argyllshire Herald from August 5th, 1859 and reads as follows:

FATAL ACCIDENT AT DRUMLEMBLE

On the morning of Monday the 25th ult., a fatal accident occurred at the coal-pit at Drumlemble. As three of the colliers were ascending the pit, one of them named Donald Kerr happened to look out of the basket, when unfortunately the recoil of the signal wire which had previously been broken, caught him by the chin and dragged him out of the basket. Before he could be rescued from this perilous position, he lost hold of the wire, fell to the distance of 90 feet, and was killed on the spot. His remains were taken up in a very mangled state. One of the two two workmen who were in the the basket at the time was the son of the deceased. We understand that the men at the bottom of the pit hallooed to the man at the head of it, informing him of the condition in which the signal wire was. Immediately on receiving this intelligence, he communicated it to the person in charge of the engine, at the same time urging upon him to be very cautious, as it was men who were coming up. A widow and seven children survive to mourn the loss of the deceased. It is now 25 years since any fatal accident occurred at this colliery. 

Article about the death of Donald Kerr, collier at Drumlemble Pit. Argyllshire Herald, 5th August 1885. From the collection at Campbeltown Library.

This account makes harrowing reading – that Donald’s son, Alexander, should witness his father die in such a way is quite horrific. I am left wondering how the family survived after Donald’s death and if the Duke of Argyll ever compensated them in any way…

Jan Nimmo

Dr. Wallace recalls an underground incident at Argyll Colliery

Dr. Archie Wallace at his home in Campbeltown in December 2016. Photo: Jan Nimmo ©

In November 2016, I paid a visit to Dr. Wallace who practised as a family doctor in Campbeltown from 1949, alongside Dr. McPhail. The consulting rooms at that time were in the stone snecked building on the north side of Burnside Square (now the Argyll and Bute CARS/Townscape Heritage Initiative Office). During my visit to Dr Wallace, now in his nineties, he talked about a particular incident where he was called to treat some men who had gotten into trouble in one of the underground roads at Argyll Colliery.

Here is transcript of the interview:

Yes, well I’m Archie Wallace, my age is in the 90s now and my memory is quite good but it’s maybe not just 100% and I certainly don’t want to over-dramatise what went on…. I’ve really got very little idea of when this actually happened or the names of the people that were involved, and, as I say, I don’t want to over-dramatise it….

It was either a Saturday or a local holiday, because the mine wasn’t functioning, but people called deputies had to carry out an examination of the mine every day, including holidays, and a couple of men would to do their usual walk down the roads – they called them roads, which are channels, and these had to be examined. Now I don’t know what raised the alarm – whether the man in the office was expecting them back and they didn’t arrive or whether there was some communication to say that they were in trouble somewhere, maybe a telephone line of some sort, that they had down there or some communication – I’ve no idea. I went to the Cottage Hospital on my way out to Machrihanish to collect an oxygen cylinder in case it should have been needed.

So, anyway, the story I got, I just happened to be on call that day, was that people were in trouble and they might require medical assistance so out I went and I remember that there were four guys or maybe five. I don’t remember who they were except for one man called James Fowler, he stays in Ralston Road, I remember him quite clearly because he’s quite a tall fellow.

Well, we went down one of the roads, and we were going to a part of the mine which hadn’t been worked for a while but it still had to be inspected. We made our way along this road, as they called it, and that was quite scary for me because I’d never been down before and parts of that channel were quite narrow and you had to bend down to get through. As we got further away I did notice that the quality of the air was not very good and not being used to these conditions I was absolutely sweating, profusely, so much so, that it was running into my eyes, and above, there were these awful creaking noises which sounded like the whole thing was going to collapse. These were the conditions that these guys had to work in. 

Well, we got to where they were and they were semi-conscious but they looked quite healthy. The reason they looked quite healthy was because it was carbon monoxide (poisoning) – which when it combines with the blood it turns a pinkish colour – the capillaries of the face turn pink and they don’t actually look all that ill but the quality of the air was terrible. I think what helped was that they were on the ground and the carbon monoxide had risen to the top of the vault. So I was able to give them some oxygen and they recovered a bit but I was anxious to get them up but because I didn’t want to finish up with two of them and five of us and not being able to move them, though we had some oxygen. 

The entrance to Argyll Colliery. A.C. was a drift mine so the miners were transported underground by rail. Photo courtesy of the Scottish National Mining Museum.

What happened was the main had been on fire, one of the spontaneous fires that mines get, and we used to see smoke coming up from the neighbouring farm, right from out of the ground. Eventually they closed it and sealed it off to see if the lack of oxygen would sort this out and it seemed to do the trick. But it was after that, that this happened. And what had happened was that the carbon monoxide was building somewhere in that area and I don’t know what would suddenly make it much worse and the quality of the air that we were breathing was just not sustainable. If they were to make their way back, that’s what they thought so that’s maybe why they asked for help.

Anyway, the way back was a bit of a nightmare because there were two extra people who had to be assisted and we had to stop every now and again to get our breath back and to get a few puffs of oxygen. About 10 minutes into it I noticed that the dial on the oxygen cylinder was at zero, so I was just praying that we would be alright. A lot of this was just a bit of phobia on my part and maybe I was panicking a bit, but we were struggling; we were breathing heavily, we weren’t getting enough oxygen. That, as I say, went on for about 10 minutes and eventually, I think I was at the front, I turned a corner, and you’ve heard the phrase, “a breath of fresh air”…  And we got a breath of fresh air, and by God, I can tell you it was welcome. And we were home and dry… So it wasn’t all that fantastic…. but nobody seemed to know anything about this. The manager at that time was Mr Seaman, I think that was his name, as I can’t remember the guys’ names and it didn’t even get into the Courier and my feeling was that the Coal Board just didn’t want any publicity about it and maybe they told the mining guys, you know, “just to hush this up”…. And of course I wasn’t prepared to say anything either, except over the years, I gave a talk to the Rotary about it because I thought they would be interested and they really were interested, but that was about all…

And another thing, not that I was looking for anything in any way at all, but you think there would have been a note or something to say thank you for your help, but there was nothing! Not a thing! Extraordinary really! It was almost as though they had decided that – I think that they were afraid that there would be repercussions and that maybe they had re-opened the mine too soon.

 I knew a lot of the miners, they were patients of mine and were golfing friends, like Dan Stalker, and all that crowd, so l knew them quite well but I can’t remember recognising the fellows that were with me.

Argyll Colliery Rescue Team – Jim Fowler, second from the left. Photo courtesy of the late Jim Fowler ©

When Morag McLean (nee McMillan), Campbeltown, put a piece together for this blog about her father, Kenny McMillan, in an extract from one of his diaries he mentions that “T. McFarlane was Gassed” in 1958. I have asked Dr. Wallace if he may have been one of the men involved in this incident but the name didn’t ring a bell… Dr. Wallace doesn’t remember the date of this incident but it is most likely to have occurred after the big fire of 1958.

If anyone has any other information about this incident please contact me.

Jan Nimmo

Lines to memory of James McArthur: Killed at Drumlemble Coal Pit

Kilkivan Cemetery, between Drumlemble and Machrihanish, Kintyre, with the Oa of Islay in the background (2007). Photo: Jan Nimmo ©

Lines to memory of James McArthur: Killed at Drumlemble Coal Pit

‘Twas a lovely Spring morning in April
And the lark sang his song loud and clear
When we miners set out on our way to the pit
With light hearts and full of good cheer

We laughed and we joked, as we strode on our way
Not a thought of the mine and it’s dangers
For sport was the topic, as usually the case
On the merits of Celtic and Rangers.

When we reached the pit head in the corner we saw
“auld Jamies” swing his lamp to and fro
He was melting his wax, and preparing his light
Ere he’s start on his labours below.

The signal bell rang, and the cage lowered away
Sinking silently out of the light
But little we thought as we watched him go down
Of what was to happen ere night.

Our work down below but two hours begun
When news came in whispering breath
That a fall had occurred at Jamie’s coal face
And we feared he had met with his death.

The doctor was ‘phoned for, and soon he appeared
Anxious to do his best
But alas! our poor comrade had passed away
And lay in Eternal Rest.

We laid our tools and hurried away
Our work for that day at an end
By custom thus showing the respect that we held
For our poor, unfortunate friend.

Our thought flew to his aged mother
Of ten and four -score years
When we thought of her feeble old frame
Our eyes dimmed with tears

He was called away while at his post
No warning was given
But we hope to meet some other time
At the Golden Gates of Heaven.

James MacArthur was crushed under a coal fall in April 1914, whilst working for the Campbeltown Coal Company. The poem was composed by John Lambie who died in an accident, in 1926, at the Wimbledon Pit.

Jimmy Woodcock: “Pinned by Fall at the Working Face”.

Shortly after completing what I thought was the final edit of my film about Argyll Colliery, The Road to Drumleman, a missing piece of the jigsaw fell into place for me when I read a letter in the Campbeltown Courier – it was from Ronnie Gay, the nephew of James Woodcock, one of two fatalities Argyll Colliery (the other was Duncan McKinven, who was killed in an accident on the surface). Jimmy, aged 22, was killed on the 12th February, 1951, when a lump of coal weighing a ton, fell on top of him. Another collier, Bobby Hamilton, had a very narrow escape, and although hospitalised, made a full recovery. The accident, which killed Jimmy instantly, was described to me in interviews with Willie McKinlay and Davy Anderson, both now deceased. Both men still had vivid memories of the day of the accident and were still clearly emotionally affected by the experience, all those years before. Willie was one of the men who carried Jimmy to the surface. When I was making the film, I was led to understand that at the time he was killed young Jimmy Woodcock had been married but that he had no children. Jimmy’s father, originally from Yorkshire, had been one of the first to be employed at the colliery, where he started work in 1946. The family lived in the “miners’ houses” in Crosshill Avenue, Campbeltown.

Jimmy Woodcock during his National Service. Photo courtesy of Ron Gay ©

I wasn’t able to find a photo of Jimmy for the film and it bothered me not being able to put a face to the name of that tragic story – when I was researching the film there was often a scarcity of information and sometimes the trails simply went cold.

We screened the film at the Picture House in Campbeltown in 2008 and thanks to subsequent publicity in the local paper, The Campbltown Courier, Ronnie Gay, Jimmy’s nephew, wrote a letter to the newspaper. I talked to Ronnie and he explained that his Auntie Cathy, Jimmy’s wife, had been 7 months pregnant at the time when his Uncle Jimmy was killed and that that she had had a son, also called Jim.

Ronnie Gay with a photo of his Uncle and and Aunt, Jimmy and Cathy Woodcock. Photo courtesy of Ronnie Gay ©

During my visit to see Ronnie in Dunoon and I scanned some scan family photos. I edited two of them into the film – one of them was a lovely photo of Jimmy with his young wife, Cathy. Once they had been included in the edit we sent a copy to Jimmy’s son, Jim, in Australia – here is his response:

Jimmy Woodcock and his wife, Cathy. Photo: Courtesy of Ronnie Gay ©

Hi Jan,

I’m writing to thank you very much for sending me a copy of the Road to Drumleman DVD, received via my cousin in Scotland.

A short history:

My Dad was Jim Woodcock who was killed in the Machrihanish mining disaster in 1951. My mum, Cathy, was 7 months pregnant with me when my Dad was killed and so I never knew my Dad. I’ve always had an interest in finding out more about what actually happened. My grandfather, James Woodcock died when I was 5 and I can remember him quite vividly.

He was one of the first to be employed at the mine. His wife, my Gran, Isabel Woodcock, lived until the 1990’s and as she got older she gave me all the newspaper cuttings, death certificate and a few photos. After my Dad died, my mother moved back to Paisley to be with her own mother, however we always kept in touch with Campbeltown through Gran. My cousin, Ron Gay, lived in Campbeltown until a few years ago when he moved to Dunoon and we’ve always kept in touch.

After 7 years my mother re-married and moved to South Africa with me and my step-brother, Mitchell. We lived there for 9 years, before returning to Paisley. In 1980 my wife, Anne and I moved to Australia. We’ve now got two daughters and two granddaughters who live close by. In December/January 2001/2 we went home to Scotland for a holiday and drove down to Campbeltown to visit some of the Woodcock family. We actually went to Janey and Peter Hall who still live in Davaar Avenue (mentioned in your DVD) and my Dad’s cousins, Sheena and Lachie, took us into the Campbeltown Historical Museum. (Campbeltown Heritage Centre). They had a little information on the mine and when we got back to Australia, we copied the information Gran had given us and sent it to Sheena to be used in the Museum as she thought fit. 

My cousin hadn’t mentioned his contact with you and so the DVD arrived quite unexpectedly. I got home from work and put it on. It brought back some memories from the Campbeltown I remember (late 1950’s/60’s) I was quite taken with the history, of which I knew a little, but the pictures and interviews really meant something. When Willie McKinley started talking about ‘young Jimmy Woodcock’, I really sat up and then saw the picture of my parents and my Dad’s grave which I’ve visited several times. I was quite taken aback and promised myself to try and get in touch with Willie until the end when I read he had since died. I really did appreciate hearing from someone who knew my Dad and was in the mine at the time of the accident, and wanted you to know how much that meant. For your information I received £700 and my mother received £2,000 in compensation from the Coal Board. They then asked my mother to recompense them for the back-pay of rent. 

My Mum died at the beginning of 2009, however I know she would have been appy to think that something had actually been recorded. I’ve already shown the DVD to both my daughters and granddaughters and it’s given them some insight to their background. The DVD will become part of the Woodcock ancestry. Here in Australia, it’s quite the ‘in thing’ to research the family and I want to thank you sincerely for taking the time to research the Argyll Mine. I will turn 60 in April next year and had a major heart attack in 2001, so take each day at a time but am absolutely delighted to think that my ‘heritage’ has been so well documented. I’ve attached a couple of newspaper cuttings which might interest you.

Thank you very much – your work has meant a lot to me.

Kind regards,

Jim Woodcock

Australia (2007).

Extract from the Campbeltown Courier (?) 1951. Courtesy of Jim Woodcock Jnr.

Extract from the Campbeltown Courier courtesy of Ronnie Gay

I was able to put Jim in contact with Davy Anderson in Campbeltown and the two corresponded and spoke on the phone. I know that this was something which meant a lot to Jim.

The late Davy Anderson with a photo of Jimmy Woodcock and a letter from Jimmy Wooodcock’s son, Jim. Photo: Jan Nimmo ©

The whole process of making The Road to Drumleman was an emotional one – I was grieving for my father, Neil, who had once worked at Argyll Colliery. I was also moved by meeting all the people who contributed to the film. The documentary also stirred up a lot of memories and emotions for other families both in South Kintyre and in the wider diaspora. It’s important that we keep making connections like the one between Jim and Davy. This current project is an opportunity to mark mining as a significant part of the popular cultural identity of the area. We will remember and document the lives of the men and women who worked at the mine, even if it’s only by naming them, but hopefully we can build on the information gathered for the documentary and find more stories and images which will help us preserve Kintyre’s mining heritage and serve as a legacy for those to come.

Jan Nimmo ©