This blog post takes a bit of a turn thanks to my awesome reader, Jack Johnson (no relation to the song, as far as we know). Jack recently unearthed a fascinating gem from his family tree – his great-grandfather, Richard Johnson, turns out to be the very same Richard Johnson who met his end a tad too soon in the Lindal Moor Diamond Pit (spoiler alert: it wasn’t filled with diamonds).
A Mine of a Story:
Nestled amidst the rugged landscape of Furness, Cumbria, the Lindal Moor Diamond Pit, despite the fancy name, was all about iron ore. Located within the Muncaster Royalty, south of Whinfield and east of the current Lindal Cricket Club, the pit was operated by Harrison Ainslie & Company. Back in the late 1800s, this was a bustling hub and a vital part of the local mining industry. It served as the main water-pumping pit in the Royalty, reaching a depth of 612 feet! Imagine the engineering feat of keeping such a deep pit dry, especially in those days. (It’s interesting to note that the pumping arrangements were electrified and upgraded in 1907, showcasing the ongoing technological advancements in mining.)(ow, imagine working down there, day in and day out. Not exactly a walk in the park (although some might say it felt like one – minus the sunshine!).
A Tragic Twist:
Sadly, things took a turn for the worse in 1886. Richard, at just 36 years old, was fatally struck by a massive chunk of falling iron ore. The dangers of working in the mine were ever-present, and this tragic accident claimed the lives of Richard and another miner, forever casting a shadow over the pit’s history.
But Richard’s story wasn’t an isolated incident. Accidents were a harsh reality of life in the mines. In fact, I came across this chilling account of another tragic incident at the Diamond Pit:
A shocking accident, unfortunately attended with fatal results, occurred at Lindal Moor mine on Monday morning. About seven o’clock, Thomas Walker, aged 62 years, of Ireleth, along with his son and others, got on to the cage for the purpose of descending to their work in the Diamond pit. The shaft is about 200 yards deep, and the cage had got to within twenty yards of the bottom when it stopped in the usual way, and the deceased said to his son, “Go on, we will get out here.” The son got out, and followed by other men proceeded in the direction of the place where they were employed. They took it for granted that the deceased would follow, but he did not put in an appearance at the working. Having a suspicion that something had gone wrong they went in search of their missing companion. After a brief search they discovered him at the bottom of the shaft quite dead. How the deceased met his death can only be a matter of conjecture.
This account serves as a stark reminder of the risks these men took every day. It’s a testament to their courage and dedication in the face of such danger.
Family Ties that Bind (Even Across Time):
This story hits particularly close to home for Jack, and that’s what makes it extra special. Knowing that Richard was his great-grandfather adds a whole new layer to the tale. It makes this piece of Furness history a little more personal, a little more real. And it gets even more poignant. Jack shared this touching comment on our Furness Whisper Facebook page:
“This is the watch he was wearing at the time of the accident. It has been passed down in the family. I have it now as my eldest brother passed away 2 years ago and he was called Richard named after our father. And it will be passed onto my eldest son John who’s middle name is Richard.
Can you imagine the history held within that timepiece? A tangible link to a man who toiled in the depths of the earth, a reminder of the sacrifices made by generations past.
Remembering the Miners, One Story at a Time:
The Lindal Moor Diamond Pit may be closed now, but the stories of the miners who braved its depths live on. Thanks to places like the Derwent Mining Museum, and folks like Jack who share their family history, we can keep these memories alive. Richard Johnson, and all the other miners, deserve to be remembered for their hard work and sacrifice.
And to that end, I replied to Jack:
Furness Whisper
Jack Johnson That was the hardest thing I had to write, trying to keep it engaging to read while also paying respect to your family member. I say this all the time: people like your great-grandad are true heroes in so many ways, keeping the backbone of this county going. I really do appreciate you sharing the story with me, for me to try and write something up to honour his life and legacy.
So next time you see a piece of iron, (cue dramatic music) remember the men and women who toiled underground to bring it to the surface! They may not have been Indiana Jones, but they were pretty darn heroic in our hearts.
P.S. Jack, if you have any more stories about your great-grandfather, we’d love to hear them! Perhaps he had a favorite pipe he smoked after a long shift, a funny nickname among his fellow miners, or a special tradition he followed before heading underground. Sharing these details helps us remember Richard as a person, not just a statistic.