Story
Tom and Fred were brothers, and were the sons of Richard Nutton (1840-1927) and Ann Farndale (1847-1886). Richard was from Lotherton, Aberford and Ann came from Bishop Wilton. They married in Sherburn on 19th May 1866, and the couple lived in Aberford, where they had several children: Arthur (1866-1945), George (1868-1935), William (1870-1952), Mary Ann (1873-1902), Sarah (1876-1947) and Walter (1881-1965). Tom was born in 1878, and Fred was their youngest child, born on 31st January 1886 (pictured below). Their mother Ann died aged 39, shortly after Fred was born, and Richard was left to raise 8 children. As Fred was a baby, he was passed to his uncle, Mark Farndale, who was also from Bishop Wilton, but had married Hannah Varley and was living close by in Barwick in Elmet, working as a gardener at Potterton Hall.
Tom and Fred Nutton were brought back together by their employment at Peckfield Colliery. On the day of the disaster, Tom was 17 years-old, whilst Fred was the youngest in the mine, having only just passed his 10th birthday. The explosion occurred at the far West side of the Beeston Bed: 175 yards below ground, whilst Tom and Fred were amongst a small group of 11 miners who were 240 yards below ground to the East in a lower seam, No.4 Level, in the Black Bed seam. Robert Henry Nevins (aged 39) the Black Bed Steward, was with Edward Simpson (49), Fred Atkinson (35), Henry Hague, Sidney Revis (19), Fred Shillito (24), and Tom Nutton. They were fixing a road. William Camply (26), Thomas Freeman (36), Joe Wilson (19), and Fred Nutton were also in the Black Bed in a separate group. Fred Atkinson was standing on a platform supervising the work of three of the men. Nevins had just reported everything was fine when the explosion happened, a loud booming followed by a fall of roof. The force of the blast was felt all around the mine including the Black Bed. Joe Wilson was hit by a flying trap door, and Edward Simpson and Fred Nutton were blown to the floor. Fred Atkinson heard a terrific clap and was thrown from the platform, landing in a mass of coal, where he lay partly concussed. Edward Simpson similarly heard a clap of thunder and felt the stoppage of air before he was “hurled down.” The lights in the Black Bed had been blown out, so the men and boys gathered together in the darkness to discuss what had happened and what to do next. Before they could react, a wave of afterdamp hit them, and sent them all to sleep for an hour. They only awoke again when they felt fresh air. Sidney Revis found Nevins’ lamp, and Nevins re-lit it. The young boys were panicking and crying in the darkness, and in despair they asked Nevins to pray for them. “I am not such a good-living man after all, but I prayed for them with all my heart”, Nevins recounted afterwards. Edward Simpson was very concerned for the boys, and the older miners had to encourage them. The group realised they could not escape up the lift, so they crawled on their hands and knees from the Black Bed, over great heaps of fallen coal, feeling their way in the darkness, as they had very little light to follow. The group had to clamber up through the stone drift, which was a sloping tunnel cut through stone, which connected both the levels. Once they had scaled 65 vertical yards, they reached the Beeston Bed, where they were instantly overcome by afterdamp again, 600 yards from shaft. Violently ill, the men tried to carry one another, until they were all sick and exhausted. Fred Atkinson in particular was dazed and confused, and was unable to walk any further, which forced the group to leave him behind, as they were barely able walk themselves. They eventually arrived at the shaft, where they met some 14 survivors from the Beeston Bed. They were starting to recount their stories whilst waiting for rescue attempts, when Simpson and Nevins were overcome by the effects of afterdamp poisoning again and start vomiting. The Beeston Bed miners rubbed their backs, and gave them some drink. Around 11am, the survivors were able to get 3 men at a time into the cage to escape. They sent Edward Simpson and Fred Nutton up first, along with Nevins, who had lost consciousness, and had to be lifted into the cage. A reporter wrote the following paragraph when Fred emerged:
“By the side of the writer a little girl stood weeping, her face covered by her apron. She was waiting for her “dada”, she said. Then there was more bustle among the workings, and a boy collier stepped down amongst the crowd. He quivered in every fibre of his body, and through the coating of black which clouded his face his cheeks looked waxen and bloodless. He was a sturdy lad though, and gave a straightforward answer to our representative’s inquiry: “Ah remember nowt, only ‘at ah wor blown a gurt distance.’ One almost felt tempted to smile as he went to where a number of bicycles were stabled, and picking one out, mounted and rode home. Fancy that, you cyclists. Here was a lad, who had just baulked death, and had been literally dragged out of a living grave, yet the first thing he did when he saw the blessed sunshine again was to mount his iron steed and haste homewards! That boy deserves a better bicycle than he was riding. It was an antiquated ‘solid’ that chattered in every inch of its frame.”
When Tom escaped the pit, he was also interviewed:
“Thomas Nutton, who is a young man of about 20, had an experience which he assured our representative he had no desire to repeat. He was ‘rightening some road’ in the No.4 level, about 200 yards from the bottom, when suddenly there came a blast of air which opened a neighbouring trap-door. Seeing dust and smoke, he and those in the same level at once set off in the direction of the shaft, but before they could reach it they were overcome by the afterdamp. [..] As Nutton said, in recounting his adventures, the poor fellows never expected to see Aberford again. He himself remained unconscious for about half an hour, but luckily a little fresh air reached them from the upcast shaft, and after recovering somewhat the men resolved to make another effort to reach the bottom. They had to climb over large heaps of stone and debris, which rendered their progress slow and difficult, but eventually the foot of the shaft was reached.”
After the disaster, Tom Nutton remained in Aberford. In 1901, he was still a coal miner, lodging with his older brother George’s family. He married Mary Jane Davey (1876-1934) in 1908, and they had a couple of daughters: Anne Elizabeth (1911-1991) and Bessie (1921-1997), who both moved to Rothwell. Tom passed away in 1930, whilst living at Bulmer’s Hill, Aberford, aged 51.
Fred Nutton continued to live in Barwick. He left mining, and in 1901 followed his uncle Mark Farndale, by working as a gardener, carpenter and joiner at Potterton Hall for Sir Theo Peel. Whilst there, he met Lillie May Cockerill (1884-1950) from Whitby, who was in service. They married in Leeds on 20th November 1909, and had a daughter Dorothy in 1916, whose relatives still live in Barwick. Fred and Lillie lived at 3 Chapel Lane, Barwick, and he is pictured here feeding his hens in the 1920s:
Fred later returned to coal mining at Peckfield Colliery. After the death of his first wife, Fred re-married Lizzie Poulter in 1960 at Barwick Chapel
Fred was not only the youngest survivor of the Peckfield Colliery Disaster, he was also the last of the survivors to pass away, after he died on 28th February 1964, aged 78.
30th April 1896. The Peckfield Colliery Disaster at Micklefield 