Story
Fred and Harry were two of eight children born to Ambrose Bellerby (1825-1902) and Mary Ann Wilkinson (1841-1900), after the couple married in Kippax on 2nd March 1870. This marriage was Ambrose’s second, after his first wife, Jane Nicholson, whom he’d married on 27th November 1852 in Sherburn, passed away in 1867. Ambrose and Jane had three children as well, but of his eleven children, three had died in infancy, three had married and had families of their own, so by 1896, Ambrose was 70 years-old and had retired after working at Peckfield Colliery. Consequently, Ambrose and Mary Ann were being financially supported by their sons Fred and Harry, who were both unmarried.
The two brothers were close to each other in age. Fred was the older of the two, being born on 28th November 1874, and Harry was born in 1876, and both their immediately older and younger siblings had died in infancy, so there was an age gap between these brothers and the rest of their siblings. In 1891, the family were living at Peckfield, and Fred was working as a Pony Driver, whilst Harry was a Bank’s boy.
On 30th April 1896, the brothers, who were now both Pony Drivers at Peckfield Colliery, set off to work after meeting up with Louis Pickard and his uncle Fielding Pickard, plus Alfred Norton who lived at 70 Well Lane, Kippax. They arrived on foot around 6:45am, and descended in the lift. At the bottom of the shaft, the brothers split up. Fred was working at the No.1 Rise Bord with Louis Pickard, so they made their way North East, and Harry was working in Sam Goodall’s Bord, with Alfred Norton close by on the Old North Road, so they made their way North West. Francis Rainbird Edwards who also lived in Kippax until he very recently moved to Micklefield, and Rayner Scrimshaw of Garforth were working in Capell’s Bord, quite close to Harry, and Robert Westerman of Micklefield was working with Harry in Sam Goodall’s Bord. Harry had walked 650 metres to reach his station, he hung his clothes on a peg, and had just started work when the explosion occurred about 450 metres from where he was stood. Some of the blast carried up Old North Road, where it burnt and killed Alfred Norton, but the fire did not travel up Sam Goodall’s Bord. However, despite surviving the blast, both Harry Bellerby and Robert Westerman were trapped by roof falls. Robert Westerman managed to approach the Old North Road before he succumbed to after-damp, whilst Harry did not make it that far, and died from after-damp poisoning, stuck behind a door, which was used to control the flow and circulation of air in the pit.
Fred Bellerby was about 1km away from the explosion. He survived the initial blast which travelled up the shaft, but the first explosion triggered a second and third blast, one of which travelled up No.1 Rise Bord. This was a straight path, 563 metres from their location. As the blast approached, because the path was so straight, Fred was likely to see it advance towards him. The blast killed father and son, James and Fred Benson, before it killed Louis Pickard and Fred, who died close to the entrance to a side path, which they may have been trying to reach. Charles Swift and Noah Ball both reached this side path, and were not killed in the explosion, but both were trapped, and succumbed to afterdamp poisoning.
The brothers’ parents, Ambrose and Mary Ann were quickly on the scene of the disaster, and whilst the fate of their children was unknown, the press highlighted the overwhelming grief of the couple more than any other. Mary Ann was inconsolable, and was crying so much, she even suffered lock-jaw. The Yorkshire Evening Post wrote about them on 1st May:
“Through the long watches of yesterday, with its cold winds and showers of rain, I noticed a wrinkled old man and his wife sitting on a stone near the pit-mouth with an anguish on their faces which showed clearly that they had loved ones below. The same couple were at the same spot this morning. The only difference in their appearance was that the old man wore, if possible, a deeper look of pain. The eyes of the poor old creature beside him were wet with tears; and her dress had the bedraggled appearance which comes of a night out. They had actually kept their seats on that cold stone through the long watches of the night. The Rev. Mr. Armitage, the Wesleyan Minister from Garforth, told me so as we watched one of the rescue parties going down. The rev. gentleman had learned the sorrowful history first hand. The old man, 70 years of age, was a miner who had worked for many years in the same pit himself. His two sons, who were the only support of himself and wife, are still; numbered in the sad roll of the entombed. Mr. Armitage asked the old woman to have a cup of tea and something to eat. “I’m not bahn ta sup nor bite till they’re fund,” responded the old woman in a voice broken with emotion. And every time the gong is heard signalling the return of a rescue party from the pit this pathetic figure moves slowly up to the mouth to see the cage come up. Perhaps her boy will be brought to the surface alive!”
On Saturday 2nd May, the Leeds Mercury wrote a follow-up:
“A poor old man and woman, whose grief was pitiable to see, waited all day for tidings of their offspring, whom they knew too well were amongst the dead. At the sound of the gong, which gave notice of the raising of the cage, this aged couple would totter forward, anxious to catch a glimpse of the remains as they were being lifted out. Time after time they were disappointed, for their loved ones were not of the dead brought to bank – at least, up to a late hour in the evening. At length they were persuaded to retire to the joiners’ shop, where there was a fire, and here they were joined by two of their sons, one a young man [William Bellerby, 1871-1927], and the other a boy of about twelve years of age [John Bellerby, 1883-1965], who had come to the pit on the same mournful errand. The family, named Bellerby, belong to Kippax, and the two missing members were Fred, aged 21, and Harry, aged 19. The father, apparently approaching the allotted span of life, and very infirm, could be led by conversation to forget for a few moments his sad bereavement, but his wife continued inconsolable. She was moreover restless, and now and again would wander off towards the pit-hill, to return presently, lamenting afresh that there were still no tidings of her lads. The old man, though less demonstrative in his grief than his partner, was terribly crushed in spirit. On Thursday morning, after hearing of the catastrophe, he hastened to the colliery; he remained all night on the premises, and, as stated, he patiently waited all day yesterday, though he had long given up all hopes of his sons being brought out alive. Whilst in the joiners’ shop someone remarked that the old man had not been home since the explosion occurred, and this drill drew from him the declaration (his frame quivering with emotion, and the tears streaming down his wrinkled cheeks as he made it) that it was his intention to stay there until he could take his boys back with him. The grief-stricken mother had gone out of the shop a moment before, and it was fortunate. The scene which followed was at least sufficiently touching without her being present to make it more so. The two sons could not restrain their grief on seeing the old man’s tears, and for several minutes the three, weeping as if their hearts would break, formed one of the most pathetic sights that it is possible to witness. The father aggravated the sorrow of his sons by recounting the virtues of their two dead brothers. “They were the only bread-winners we had,” said he, “and two kinder, better lads never were in this world. They have laid down their lives for me; I can say that truly!” At the close of the day the old man resisted all attempts to persuade him to go home and obtain the rest he evidently so greatly needed. He repeated that he would remain until his boys were brought out of the mine, but at length he consented to lie down upon a bed of straw, which was made for him in the joiners’ shop. Thus he passed his second night.”
The Yorkshire Post also described the couple: “One of the most pathetic incidents in connection with the disaster is the constant vigil of an old couple, Ambrose Bellerby and his wife of Peckfield. Their two sons, upon whom they were dependent for support, were in the mine at the time of the explosion, and are still numbered among the sad role of the entombed. These aged parents – the father is over 70, and in his younger days worked in the Peckfield pit – have never ceased watching since they went to the scene of the disaster on [Thursday] afternoon, and they present a most touching spectacle. Last night the aged mother, with a voice broken with emotion, questioned the bands of rescuers as they descended the shaft, but they had not the heart to make known their fears to her. They spoke to her gently, and she sobbingly replied, “If I could only find one of them I should be content to go home.” Then her husband came up and led her to the carpenter’s shop, where they again resumed together their vigil.”
Ambrose grew a beard during this vigil and never shaved again. The Yorkshire Evening Post carried another article about them:
“Close to the Pit-mouth there is still to be seen the pathetic picture of the old pair from Ledston, whose two boys have not yet been heard of. The eyes of the poor old woman are red with weeping over her own and other people’s sorrow. One of the members of the rescue party made a discovery below last night which he has not the heart to disclose to the aged pair. He came across the clothes of their son hanging on a peg near to where they were supposed to be employed. There was a gigantic fall of roof in close contiguity but no sign whatever of the dead.”
This was 19 years-old, Harry Bellerby, whose body was brought out on 2nd May. The Leeds Mercury reported the scene on Monday 4th May:
“There was another painful scene when Mr. Bellerby, an aged, grey-haired man, identified one of his sons. Ever since the explosion the old man has never left the pit. All day long he has been seen wandering to and fro on the pit bank, and in the evening he has slept in the joiners’ shop. The spectacle when he beheld one of his sons brought to the surface, dead, was a pitiable one. There, surely, never was such parental grief. He has still a son missing – one of the four miners who are supposed to be under the falls. The old man has now given up all hope of seeing him alive again, but still he remains about the colliery premises, a pathetic figure.”
Harry’s body was formerly identified at the inquest by his older brother William, who was present with his parents. William was a Grocer, 25 years-old, and worked on Kippax High Street. William had married Elizabeth Florence Rhodes in Kippax on 29th February 1892, and they already had three children of their own. William testified to the Inquest that on “Saturday night I saw my brother’s body in the Colliery shed. He appeared to be as if asleep.” William and Elizabeth’s next child was a boy, born 25th August 1897, whom they named Harry Bellerby, in remembrance.
The body of Fred Bellerby was not brought out of the mine until Tuesday 12th May: he was amongst the last four victims to be removed. Again, Ambrose and Mary Ann were too distressed to attend the Inquest, so William formally identified Fred’s body. He stated: “I have today seen his dead body at the shed at Peckfield colliery and have not had any difficulty in identifying him, although apparently burnt all over.” Fred was 21 years-old.
On 25th March 1913, William and Elizabeth had their final child, a boy they named Fred Bellerby. Many in Micklefield will remember Fred, as he was the Landlord of the Bland’s Arms pub for many years. During the First World War, William was instrumental in setting up and chairing the Kippax Soldiers and Sailors Comforts Committee, to help provide money and gifts for villagers who were serving in the armed forces.
Another of the Bellerby children who was present at the Pityard in 1896 was 15 years-old Alice Maud Bellerby. She went on to marry Abraham Prince on 15th April 1903 after the death of both her parents. In later life, she clearly remembered the scenes at the Pityard, and every year, on the anniversary of the explosion, she visited her brothers’ grave with a bunch of flowers. Before she passed away in 1964 aged 83 (pictured below), she stated simply: “The explosion wrecked our happy family. It has been a sorrow all my life.”
Although weather-beaten and faded, Harry and Fred’s gravestone still stands in Kippax Churchyard (below). The young men are buried with their parents and some of their siblings who died in infancy, not far away from Alfred Norton and Francis Rainbird Edwards who also died in the Colliery disaster:
30th April 1896. The Peckfield Colliery Disaster at Micklefield 