PATHETIC SCENES

Evening Star, Issue 21005, 20 January 1932, Page 1

PATHETIC SCENES

COLLIERY DISASTER GREAT RESCUE WORK INTENSITY OF THE TRAGEDY Poignant scenes and stories of selfsacrifice which fill another , wonderful page in the history of British mining marked the opening of the inquest into the Bentley Colliery disaster in Yorkshire. The village was silent and deserted,the only people to be seen being those relatives who came tramping down the muddy road to attend the inquest. Rain was falling. _ The now silent' machinery at the mine stood out in gaunt relief against the dark sky. The scene was dreary and desolate in the extreme. The men, who were wearing their Sunday clothes, came down the road mostly in* twos and threes. Now and again would come a miner alone, his face hard and lined. Scarcely a word was spoken. The women were red-eyed,-but they bore themselves with courage.: Only here and there was an aged mother or a young widow who sobbed and needed the support of friends. Sixteen of the dead were lying in' the ambulance shed at the colliery, twenty-one in hospital, where they died, and five remained entombed in the section of the pit which had now; been sealed—forty-two in all. SUPERHUMAN EFFORTS. Major Barbejr, one of the proprietors 'of the colliery, who himself played a courageous part in the rescue work, joinedin the coroner’s expression of sympathy. His voice was shaken with emotion, and he could hardly be heard as he paid a tribute to the workmates of the dead, the doctors, the nurses, the ambulance men, clergy, ministers, police—“ all, indeed, who put forward almost superhuman efforts to save any that could have been saved.” Mr Phillips, the general manager of the colliery, mentiqned specially Mr. Macgregor, the agent, Mr Longden, the manager, and those who were on the spot from the first. “ They risked everything,” said Mr Phillips. “It whs not a question of getting volunteers, but of preventing them from taking unnecessary risks in their enthusiasm to rescue the entombed men.” A sad procession of men and women walked to and from the witness chair,■ Some of the women broke down completely and had to be led away. The intensity of the tragedy became more and more apparent as one sobbing wife after another told how she was left with a large family. ■■ “ I-have seven children,” Mrs Eva Atkinson whispered, t ,- *«:■ ' OTHiiR YOUNG FAMILIES. The wife of George Bentley had been left with eight Children—all girls. There, was the wife of John Brett, still a young woman, left with six children, one of whom was born on the day before the explosion. The youngest of the victims was Albert Barcock, a boy of seventeen; and his widowed mother told how she was a widow with three children now; dependent upon her. There was the tragic story of Clifford Hayes. His father, a grey-haired man, was working in another part of the mine just before the explosion took place. He came up, and immediately lie heard of the disaster volunteered to join with the rescue parties. He went down and found his son Clifford lying unconscious., ,

“That was the last time I saw him alive,” Mr Hayes said to the coroner. “I picked him up and dragged him out, and he was taken to hospital.’ ‘ Men came forward to identify their sons, brothers, or mates. Their, voices were -strangely low. The men showed no signs of emotion j they answered in monosyllables. So the tale went on until the whole of the- thirty-seven victims lying dead above ground had been identified. So overcome were many of the women witnesses that they had to be attended by nurses in the waiting room after, they had given evidence. The inquest was adjourned.