The accident occurred at Felling Colliery, near Sunderland, on the 25th of May, in the year 1812. This mine was considered by the workmen as a model of perfection, both with regard to the purity of its air, and the arrangements of its machinery. The concern was in the highest degree prosperous; and no accident, except a trifling explosion which slightly scorched two or three pitmen, had ever occurred.

Two shifts, or sets of men, were constantly employed, the first of which entered the mine at four, and were relieved at their working posts by the next set at eleven o'clock in the morning; but such was the confidence of the pitmen in the safety of this mine, that the second shift of men were often at their posts before the first set had left them; and such happened to be the case on the following unhappy occasion.

About half past eleven, on the morning of the 25th of May, the neighbouring villages were alarmed by a tremendous explosion. The subterraneous fire broke forth with two heavy discharges from the shaft called the 'John Pit,' which was one hundred and two fathoms deep, and were almost immediately followed by one from that termed the 'William pit,' A slight trembling, as if from an earthquake, was felt for about half a mile around the workings; and the noise of the explosion, though dull, was heard to the distance of three or four miles, and greatly resembled an unsteady fire of infantry.

Immense quantities of dust and small coal accompanied these blasts, and rose high into the air, in the form of an inverted cone. The heaviest part of the ejected matter, such as masses of timber, and fragments of coal, fell near the pit, but the dust, borne away by a strong west wind, fell in a continued shower to the distance of a mile and a half; and in the village of Heworth, it caused a gloom, like that of early twilight, and so covered the roads that the footsteps of passengers were strongly imprinted on them.

As soon as the explosion had been heard, the wives and children of the pitmen rushed to the working pit. Wildness and terror were pictured in every countenance. The crowd thickened from every side, and in a very short period several hundred persons had collected together; and the air resounded with exclamations of despair for the fate of husbands, parents, and children.

The machinery having been rendered useless by the eruption, the rope of the gin was sent down the shaft with all possible expedition. In the absence of horses, a number of men, who seemed to acquire strength as the necessity for it increased, applied their shoulders to the starts, or shafts of the gin, and worked it with astonishing expedition.

By twelve o'clock, thirty-two persons, all that survived this dreadful catastrophe, had been brought to daylight, but of these three boys lived only a few hours. The dead bodies of two boys, miserably scorched and shattered, were also brought up at the same time. Twenty-nine persons, then, were all who were left to relate what they had observed of the appearances and effect of the explosion. One hundred and twenty-one were in the mine when it happened, eighty-seven of whom remained in the workings. Eight persons had fortunately come up a short time before the accident.

Those who had their friends restored, hastened with them from the scene of destruction, and for a while appeared to suffer as much from an excess of joy, as they had a short time before from the depth of despair; while those who were yet in the agony of suspense, filled the air with shrieks and howlings, and ran about wringing their hands and throwing their bodies into the most frantic and extravagant gestures.

As not one of the pitmen had escaped from the mine by the only avenue open to them, the apprehension for their safety momentarily increased, and at a quarter after twelve o'clock, nine persons descended the John pit, with the faint hope that some might still survive.

As the fire-damp would have been instantly ignited by candles, they lighted their way by steel-mills;[26] and knowing that a great number of the miners must have been at the crane when the explosion happened, they at once attempted to reach that spot: their progress, however, was very soon intercepted by the prevalence of choak damp, and the sparks from their steel-mill fell into it like dark drops of blood: deprived therefore of light, and nearly suffocated by the noxious atmosphere, they retraced their steps towards the shaft, but they were shortly stopped by a thick smoke which stood like a wall before them. Here their steel-mills became entirely useless, and the chance of their ever finding any of their companions alive entirely hopeless; to which should also be added the horror arising from the conviction of the mine being on fire, and the probability of a second explosion occurring at the next moment, and of their being buried in the ruins it would occasion.