Woodhorn Colliery, Northumberland.
 
Woodhorn Colliery and the people who worked it were typical of a world that has vanished forever. So what was coal mining really like? Vist this museum to find out, it is a groundbreaking new exhibition. Through the eyes of the Ashington community, you’ll discover the true story of coal mining in Northumberland.
You’ll set off in 1918... walking to work... at one in the morning. And as the decades fly by, you’ll encounter some fascinating folk. They’ll take you into their homes... on picnics... marches...
even on strike.

You’ll cram into the ‘cage’ like a sardine.
Experience the joys of washday.
Learn to love leeks.
Discover the art of the ‘Proggy’.
And what grinding hardship does to people.

You’ll be amazed. You’ll be fascinated. You’ll be moved. Because this is one experience, you'll nivver forget!

All of these images were taken at the museum during a recent visit. The top image shows a miner statue with the famous Geordie Lamp - (The Geordie lamp was invented by George Stephenson  in 1815 as a solution to explosion s in coal mines. Although invented in the same year as the Davey Lamp the two were subtly different from each other. This led to the name used for us northerners as all of the Northern miners who carried the Stephenson Lamp were called Geodie's after its inventor.

The second image is a composite or 'joiner image showing all of the museum buildings.

The sixth image shows the new entrance to the museum and county records - the 'Cutter'. It is a fascinating building and has a great abstract entrance.

The bottom image shows the typical colliery building but I've added a famous poem from one of the pitman poets - Joseph Skipsey, born 1832 in North Shields. This is from his poem The Hartley Calamity of 1862, a powerful and affecting ballad in which he recounts the tragedy of the 204 men and boys (most of the male population of the village) who suffocated in the colliery after a six-day struggle to dig them out .  .  .  

"Are we entombed?" they seem to ask,
For the shaft is closed, and no
Escape have they to God's bright day
From out the night below.
 
"O, father, till the shaft is cleared,
Close, close beside me keep;
My eye-lids are together glued,
And I—and I—must sleep."

"Sleep, darling, sleep, and I will keep
Close by—heigh-ho!"— To keep
Himself awake the father strives—
But he—he too—must sleep.

And fathers, and mothers, and sisters, and
brothers—
The lover and the new-made bride
A vigil kept for those who slept,
From eve to morning tide.