Warm Winters and White Rabbits: Folklore of Welsh and English Coal Miners

Utah Historical Quarterly

Vol. 51, 1983, No. 3

Warm Winters and White Rabbits: Folklore m of Welsh and English Coal Miners

BY MARIANNE FRASER

SINCE ANCIENT TIMES AUTHORS HAVE documented folk beliefs as crucial components of culture. For the early Utah Welsh and English coal camp immigrants, the oral transmission of beliefs assisted both in the continuation of customs from one country to another and in the explanation of unpredictable, dangerous occurences in a new nation. Even though the immigrants were assimilated into the larger cultural unit of the coal camp, they maintained, to varying degrees, distinctive folk beliefs.

The folk beliefs of any group reflect a particular history and style of life. Accordingly, it is not surprising that some Welsh and English beliefs contain characteristics of both agricultural traditions and industrial lore. Far from being unique, many of these beliefs mirror stories or story variations that have been told and retold for centuries. The Carbon County beliefs reflect such common threads.

In synthesizing this manuscript, numerous beliefs were documented — from "First Footin'" to the reading of tea leaves. In order to facilitate a systematic analysis of a small area of folk beliefs the following text will focus only on the Welsh and English lore related to the coal mines. The material will present the beliefs within the context of previously documented work in the United States, the British Isles, and continental Europe.

The folk beliefs in this paper were acquired through systematic interviews with seven older adults, four women and three men. Their average age was seventy with a range of sixty-three to seventy-nine years. Five of the respondents were first-generation Americans of Welsh descent, while two were born and spent part of their childhood in England and Wales before immigrating to the United States. All of the men were retired Carbon County coal miners. Their average number of working years in the mine was forty-one with a range of twenty-five to forty-nine years. Two of the men started working in coal mines at the age of fourteen, while the third started work when he was sixteen.

The women lived and worked an average of thirty-one years in Carbon County coal camps. Their fathers and most of their brothers were miners. All but two of the people interviewed spent the majority of their childhoods in Castle Gate.

The documented beliefs were common from the 1900s to the late 1950s. Every belief or story was checked and recounted with each informant. Common threads and basic story patterns became discernible with this technique. The beliefs are presented in two categories: general mine folklore and below-ground beliefs.

GENERAL FOLKLORE: TO DREAM OF MUDDY WATER

Traditionally, the greatest body of miners' folk beliefs was concerned with omens or premonitions that either predicted disaster or prevented trouble. Since an outstanding characteristic of a miner's job was danger, e.g., rock falls, fires, floods, and lethal gases, it is not surprising the miners and their families paid very careful attention to these omens. This concern is consistent with the material shared by the respondents.

One belief on which the respondents unanimously agreed was that a horseshoe over the mine entrance brought the miners good luck. To insure the luck would not run out the shoe was always hung with the horns or open end at the top. The custom of touching the horseshoe four times for luck was common among Cornish miners in England and Cornish immigrants in Michigan. In Carbon County as in California and Montana the horseshoes were not touched before entering the mine.

As a symbol of luck the horseshoe is found throughout both American and European mining lore. In England the miners of Devon and Cornwall believed a horseshoe at the mine's entrance prevented the devil from entering. They believed the devil always traveled in a circle, but when he tried to enter the mine in this fashion he became trapped on the horseshoe.

While the horseshoe brought the miners good luck, a portent of ill fortune was a white animal, in particular a white rabbit outside of the mine entrance. The informants agreed the omen meant ill fortune, but they could remember no explicit behavior change that resulted from seeing the white animal. In England, however, it was not uncommon for miners to refuse to go down in the pit once the animal was sighted. Although no time of day was given by the Carbon County informants, in England the animal was looked for during the dead of night when the miners were walking from their homes to the pits. English folk literature about this belief dates back to the seventeenth century and describes the white rabbit as a predictor of a fatal accident. Prior to the seventeenth century French miners believed the white rabbit was a spirit who haunted the subterranean mines and called him the "little miner."

Little white animals as predictors of disaster were also known to German and Eastern European miners. Lydia Fish postulates that the continental miners may have brought the tradition with them to England. Perhaps it crossed from there to the United States.

Another animal with a long historical connection to the mines and miners was the mine rat or mouse. The Carbon County respondents all agreed that when the mice left the mine it was a forewarning of impending disaster. Most American miners hold this belief, some to such a degree that the mice or rats are fed by the miners and treated as pets. Welsh miners in California and Montana also believed the deserting mice were ominous. In addition, they credited a white rat as leading the evacuating pack. Neither treating mice as pets nor seeing a leading white rat was reported by the informants.

A group of people who became as concerned about these omens as the miners but were barred from the mines were the coal camp women and female children. A woman in the mine represented very bad luck, not only for the individual who saw her but for the entire crew. According to Hand, this belief is one of the most universal of all American miners' superstitions. Interestingly, it has not been traced to English folklore, although Fish did find it documented in Welsh folk literature. The English variation of this belief stated it was unlucky to meet a woman, especially an old woman, on the way to the pit. Encountering a woman was serious enough that many times a miner would not go into the pit. This belief was also known in Scotland and Wales.

Although a certain degree of skepticism may have surrounded some beliefs about the mine, one area received almost universal deference — dreams. Dreams were highly respected for their powers of forecasting disasters. Even some bosses accepted dreams as an excuse for a work absence. In Carbon County a very common Welsh belief was that any dream about muddy water meant a death in the family. However, "if the dream was of muddy water in the mine it was a very bad omen and meant there would be a death in the mine." Both American and European folk literature support theminers' strong convictions about the importance of dreams. The interpretation of muddy water as a foreteller of death, however, was not found in the literature, despite the fact that to this day dreams of muddy water cause uneasiness in many Carbon County residents.

Historically, not only was attention to dreams important in preventing disasters, so was respect for certain days of the year. A common British Isles belief related to Chrismas Day. On that dayfairies and spirits were said to hold High Mass in the deepest recesses of the mine. To disturb them could bring terrible misfortune. The Carbon County miners remembered working on Christmas Day with no sense of impending disaster. The informants remembered the New Year holiday as the most common idle day, more out of deference to the "spirited" miners rather than the mine spirits.

Be that as it may, another rather common omen related to the forecasting powers of the weather. In Castle Gate a "mild warm winter meant a full graveyard." This omen was strongly believed because the devastating Castle Gate mine explosion of 1924 was preceded by such a winter. The closest documented mining lore about warm winters found was a Welsh belief about the month of January. It was said that a sunny January would be avenged by February and March. According to one poetic couplet, it was better to see one's mother on a bier than to have fine weather in January.

BELOW GROUND: THE MINE WILL TALK TO YOU

The foreboding nature of that statement seems particularly suited to the below-ground environment of the early Carbon County coal mines. For example, in 1924 the Castle Gate No. 2 mine measured approximately 3,000 feet by 1,600 feet. This rectangular area yielded approximately fifteen miles of corridors. Lighting was minimal, consisting of sparsely placed lamps in the main haulageway and carbide lamps on the miners' cloth caps. The mine's districts, sections, and rooms were like a subterranean city during the blackest of nights. The temperature at the working face was 60° to 70° Fahrenheit. The musty air seemed intensified by the mine's oily, chemical smell. The noise level varied from the deafening sound of machinery to the ultimate silence of the fire boss's inspection — when he was the only person in the entire mine.

Within this environment it is not surprising that numerous beliefs were held about spirits and ghosts living in the mine. The idea of mine demons, spirits, and fairies appears to be both common and ancient. Some miners believe the devil himself might be met underground. The Carbon County informants reported no such belief in devils or fairies. They did, however, put much confidence in the importance of spirits or ghosts. An often-told story relates to the May 8, 1900, Winter Quarters mine explosion that killed some 200 men. Many miners claimed that not all of the bodies were found and that, to this day, the dead miners' spirits roam the mine seeking rest. A miner familiar with the story remembered it as follows:

. . . after they opened it [mine] up and got workin' again [after the explosion]. . . . They use to pull the mine cars in with horses ... I mean they'd take five or six coal cars in at a time. . . . This guy, he'd be sittin' up in front by the horse and he'd look back and see this light on the back of his train goin' in. Well, at a certain spot that light would leave and get off. . . . He kept tellin' them [other miners] that this thing was happenin'. So eventually they decided they better stop and look it over . . . and when they got there they found this other body. Where the light got off, that was the spot.

There are six documented American story variations describing a ghost riding in a horse-drawn vehicle and disappearing at a certain point in a mine. Both English and American literature substantiates the belief that the ghost of a person killed in a mine accident will haunt the scene of his death. The light leading the way to the body may relate to the idea that a person's soul is often described as a light. This concept, combined with the common belief that a person's spirit can never rest until his body is buried, could explain the Winter Quarters' phenomenon.

Respect and fear of dead co-workers' spirits was prevalent in almost every mine. A particularly dreaded place was the Castle Gate No. 2 Mine after the 1924 disaster. Because of the force of the explosion almost every miner's body was disfigured. Stories abound of body parts being found in the undercuttings. Hands in gloves, pieces of skulls in the old cloth caps, and horses' ribs were found for years after the blast. Due to the extent of the damages the mine's dips (low working rooms of the mine) were sealed from 1924 to 1941. They were opened in 1941 to aid the war effort. Even after seventeen years the miners remained nervous:

Some of them [miners] even like in my time there were places they wouldn' go. They'd go with someone else but they wouldn' go alone. . . . They felt there was ghosts in there . . . somebody from the explosion time. . . . They'd go part of the way and then come back, sayin' they saw somebody down there. ... A lot of men had superstitions like that.

The belief that a mine is haunted by the ghosts of the killed miners has long been held both in the United States and in Europe.

Sometimes the miners will say they can hear the ghosts working in the sealed mine sections. In addition, many miners believe a killed worker will haunt the mine if it is not possible to remove all of his body. Some very religious men refuse to work near a place a coworker was killed saying they "can feel the torment of the spirit."

In addition to instilling fear, many miners and their families also believed the dead miner's spirit could be helpful, even in rescue operations. An often-told story about the 1924 Castle Gate explosion describes such an occurence:

Grandma Jones [Mary Eynon Jones] was really superstitious. . . . She believed in reading tea leaves and the ouija board. When they hadn't found Dad [Alma N. Hardee] she came down to our house three or four days after [the explosion] and said she had a dream and Grandpa [Edward L.Jones, also killed in the explosion] had come and sat on her bed. She said she thought she was dreamin but he walked in and sat on the bed and said, 'Mary, I know where Almie is. They'll find him in so and so place in the main haulageway. . . . They say that's where they found him.

A number of stories in the United States, Wales, and England document this type of helping behavior by some ghosts. Ghosts are also noted for sitting on the foot of the bed while speaking. Traditionally, certain Welsh rituals were to be followed before a ghost would speak. Two of these were to address the ghost in the name of the Trinity and to ask it three times to tell its tale. These rituals were not reported as occuring before the ghost of Grandpa Jones spoke.

In Welsh folklore it is a common belief that a departed person's ghost only appears for a definite purpose: to avenge a wrong, to fulfill a neglected duty, or to do a kindness to a relative or a friend. This idea of doing a kindness to the living is illustrated in a wellrespected story about the 1900 Winter Quarters mine disaster:

. . . Grandma [Mary] Richards's brother-in-law, he was quite a religious guy. He said he felt somethin' so strong tellin' him not to go into the mine that day [May 8, 1900]. At first he ignored it but it kept up and got stronger until he felt like a slap on his back and somethin' tellin' him not to go in. That was enough, he wouldn' go in. And that was the day the mine blew up.

Hand documented both ghosts and voices warning miners of dangers. In the eastern United States coal fields some miners considered to have "second sight" would even see phantom funeral processions. When the news of the apparition spread, work ceased immediately.

Not only could ghosts predict occurrences, the mine itself was given both a personality and a predictive ability. The mine was said to "talk" to the men. The constant shifting and cracking of coal in the Carbon County coal mines was sometimes interpreted as a warning. "That's the mine talkin' to you. If you don't listen, you're as good as dead." This belief seems to be a variation on the old English tales of heroic mine workers or "Big Hewers." Specifically, Durham miners said that Bob Towers was talking when the timbers groaned. An English ballad about this Big Hewer said he weighed eighteen stone (approximately 250 pounds) and never worked with a partner because no one could keep up with him. If he wanted a chew and did not have any "baccy" he would pull a rivet out of a tub and chew it. Different coal fields had variations of their own heroic workers. For example, in Wales when the ground settled it was "Big Isaac Lewis workin' again." In the United States, "Big John" has been immortalized in both story and song.

These tales and the eccentric nature of some of the hero's accomplishments reflect an essential component of a miner's life — humor. In Carbon County, stories abound of tricks played on coworkers, from nailing lunch buckets to the floor to putting mice in the bucket before the miner took it home to his wife. Korson and Davies point out that it is essential for miners to see the lighter side of life in order to counteract the severe, dangerous working conditions and triumph over the deadly day-to-day routine. Without question, however, the people who universally suffered the most from "miner's humor" were the new employees.

In Carbon County the experienced miners' favorite pastime was to develop increasingly creative ways to terrorize the already frightened apprentices. A favorite below-ground initiation rite in Castle Gate No. 2 Mine occurred when one of the experienced miners sent a rookie back to uncouple the cars. Since the coal train was usually ten to twenty cars in length, it was a long, dark, lonely walk. Unknown to the rookie, a welcoming party was waiting. Another miner wearing a Halloween mask would hide in one of the coal cars. While the rookie nervously tried to uncouple the cars, the masked miner would jump up and scream. Needless to say, the tactic elicited a variety of responses: "Some of 'em would start runnin' and never did come back. Or they'd stop for lunch and we wouldn' see 'em again."

All things come full circle. Some of the experienced miners learned the concept of poetic justice the hard way when, in the depths of Castle Gate No. 2 Mine, they received a very unexpected visitor. A little background is in order. A community of Japanese immigrants lived directly across the valley from the mine. As part of their activities they raised turkeys. It seems that the turkeys' favorite exercise was to walk across the bridge leading to the mine and roost on the mine entrance. The rest is history:

One day I guess one of 'em was roostin' on top of the entrance and somehow it fell off and into a coal car. No one knew it was there and they took all the cars into the mine as usual. They got clean into the mine and one of the men went back to uncouple the cars and all of a sudden we heard this gobblin, gobblin, gobblin. You shoulda' seen them men move.

The verbal story ends there, leaving to the listener's imagination the ensuing chaos. It seems that the turkey came out on top:

Oh yeh, I remember the turkey. I was on the motor and here comes the turkey walkin' out just as big as you please. Jack Mills had a rope around its neck and was walkin' it out [of the mine]. But the turkey was leadin'.

This type of humorous story provides a lighter side to the miners' below-ground work. On another level, Lucas believes initiation rites and rituals serve as an informal, systematic method of eliminating the psychologically unfit miner. The miners had to feel they could depend on each other during times of crisis, such as a cave-in or entombment. For those who passed the initiation rites, part of their mandatory socialization process was fulfilled.

As with most circumstances, the initiation rites evolved and changed over time. Likewise, when documenting these beliefs some were found to have changed over the thirty-year span the interview covered. Two notable examples relate to whistling in the mine and the significance of the miner's helmet light going out.

Traditionally, whistling in the mine was strictly forbidden. Hand documents this ban on whistling as one of the most widespread of all miners' superstitions. A California mine foreman reportedly told Hand he fired at least a dozen men for whistling. This custom was also documented in Utah (Park City), Montana, Michigan, Maryland, Illinois, Kentucky, and Pennsylvania. Objections to whistling were also strong in Wales and England, although recent reports tell of men whistling underground. The reasons given why one should not whistle varied from believing the whistling would bring evil spirits to causing an explosion or other disaster in the mine. In Carbon County one informant remembers her Welshborn father adamantly supporting the idea that whistling in the mine would bring out evil spirits. This occurred in the early 1920s. By 1950, however, a long-time miner remembered, people sang and whistled in the Castle Gate mines with no concern about evil consequences.

The lore related to the miner's light extinguishing has also changed. Traditionally, if a miner's light went out three times on one shift it meant his wife was with a lover. This English belief was, again according to Hand, common to miners everywhere. It was supposedly introduced by Cornish miners, although tracing its European origins has been difficult. Regardless of its origins, it was so strongly believed in some mines that men were known to leave work to investigate the "goings on" at home. In Castle Gate during the 1920s, one informant remembered her father saying if the carbide light went out it was bad luck. A miner who retired in the 1960s remembered no such belief.

In addition to alterations in beliefs over time, the Carbon County data also showed a significant deletion related to belief in or memory of "Tommy Knockers" or "Knockers." Historically, Knockers were little creatures who lived in the Welsh and English mines. Although mischievous, they were not considered vindictive and at times showed the miners the location of rich veins by their constant knocking. 59 Hand documents the belief in "Tommy Knockers" as widespread in the western United States. The interviewed Carbon County miners, however, recalled no knowledge of such beings.

In conclusion, the Carbon County folklore illustrated both degrees of continuation of certain mining lore and alterations or, in some cases, deletions of so-called well-established beliefs. The majority of the documented beliefs were traced either to different parts of the United States or perhaps closer to their origins in Great Britain and continental Europe. The folk heritage of the Carbon County Welsh and English coal miners reflected not only the unpredictability and danger of their lives but also the courage, hope, and humor of a strong people.

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