The race to free Tommy

Another man on duty near him recognised it as well and hurried away to find timber to use as props.

When he returned with sections of wood a few minutes later, the roof had collapsed and there was a huge heap of jagged stone and rubble where Tommy had been standing.

It was feared at first that he must be dead under the debris, but then his faint voice was heard calling for help. He had managed to jump further along the tunnel seconds before the downfall in early 1886 at the Lunehead mine at the top of Lunedale.

He was trapped in a small space, having escaped death by inches.

He was unhurt, but terrified by the thought that he might never get out.

Men from other parts of the mine were called to the spot and began pulling away some of the fragments.

But it was a slow job, as great care had to be taken in case there was a further drop which could have killed them all. A messenger was sent ten miles on horseback to Middleton, headquarters of the London Lead Company, to report the incident.

A team including engineers was sent hurriedly from there to take charge of the rescue attempt.

They were transported on a sleigh as snow lay thick on the ground.

But after 12 hours of strenuous effort, taking them to 9pm on a Thursday, the rescuers had not found a way through.

Thankfully an air pipe had not been damaged so Tommy was not in danger of suffocating, and some food and water could be passed through the pipe to him. Work went on through the night, with men toiling in two-hour shifts before being replaced. But by 9am there had been little progress. All they could do was shout to the trapped man, trying to convince him he would soon be free.

There were fears of a further rock collapse at times during the operation, as loud rumbles were heard from above while timber props were being inserted to support the roof. It was 9pm before there was a hole big enough for Tommy to be pulled through. His face was blackened by dust and he was near to collapse.

The Westgate footballers, and referee, from the 1960s

There were cheers as he was helped along passages and taken to the surface. He was checked over by a doctor and given a hot drink – and before long was looking little the worse for his 36-hour ordeal. Some folk felt he was the luckiest man in the dales, as such a serious crash of material in any mine nearly always led to the death of anyone caught in its vicinity.

THERE was a sense of alarm among pet owners all over the dales when a mad dog ran wild and bit other dogs, causing at least 16 to die within a few days.

It happened in 1866 in Wolsingham.

Dogs from other places had been in the locality when the outbreak started and it was feared they would spread it when they got back to their own areas. The trouble broke out at a large gathering during an open air sale. A small cur suddenly showed signs of madness as it charged round snarling, snapping and biting other dogs. It also sank its teeth into a young boy as its owner failed to get it under control quickly.

It then went on to bite cattle and several men who tried to capture it.

Dogs that were bitten soon became wild and had to be put down. Several of the Wolsingham hounds were attacked and began biting each other.

Those involved all had to be destroyed.

Jolly Boy was the first, and others which followed were Dancer, Stormer, Ringwood, Jingler, Forester, Songster, Countess and Comely.

Valuable setters and retrievers were among the other victims.

All the people who were bitten were hurriedly treated by a doctor.

Many owners kept their dogs indoors for a week or longer, fearing that if they let them out for a short time, even in their own gardens, they might become infected and have to be put down. There was no indication of how the first dog got into such a serious condition. A number of other pedigree dogs and mongrels were put to sleep before the danger was deemed to be over.

AREALISTIC scene was included in a crime drama performed at the Cambridge Theatre in Spennymoor in 1886.

The cast from the Little Hero Company kept the audience enthralled as the dastardly villain, played by a man called Liston, got up to all sorts of unlawful behaviour. Then the evil baddie got what he deserved.

He was tracked down, arrested, handcuffed and dragged away to face a court. The curtain closed and there was loud applause.

But Liston faced a real life problem backstage as the handcuff key had disappeared. The theatre was searched without success. The rest of the cast joined the hunt but had to admit defeat.

Long after the audience had departed, Liston’s wrists were still clamped together. He could not get out of his stage costume and put on his own clothes. He felt his only hope was to find a policeman with a key. He went out with an overcoat draped over his shoulders and wandered round streets looking for a bobby.

He was relieved when he eventually spotted a constable. But the officer was taking no chances. He felt the story told to him was an unlikely one, and marched the actor to the police station. It looked likely that Liston would be put in a cell for the night.

But then a sergeant recognised the make-believe badman and produced a key which opened the handcuffs.

It was then laughter all round in the cop shop. If it happened today during a professional stage play, it would probably be dismissed as a publicity stunt.

FOLLOWING our photograph of the Westgate football team from the 1950s, Peter Nattrass has kindly sent in a lineup from the same club in the 1960s.

Three of the players from the first picture were still in action in the following decade – John Barron, Malcolm Metcalfe and Frank Walton. There were three Waltons in the new side, as Frank had been joined by his brothers Clifford and Peter. John Barron was apparently known to his friends as Ticker.

An unusual feature of Peter’s photograph (below left) is that includes the referee, George Stewart of Wolsingham, who must have been regarded by the Westgate men as a fair and unbiased official, otherwise he would not have been invited to stand beside them.

The centre of Wolsingham, where a mad dog caused the death of many others

In the back row from left are John Barron, Alan Pattinson, Malcolm Metcalfe, Maxwell Coulthard, Barry Wall, Clifford Currah and George Stewart. In front are Clifford Walton, Winston Clement, Frank Walton, Eddie Birbeck and Peter Walton.