by Miriam A Bibby
2024 is the bicentenary of the birth of Samuel Plimsoll, and I recently wrote an article about him for Historic UK’s online history magazine, which you can read here: https://www.historic-uk.com/HistoryUK/HistoryofBritain/Samuel-Plimsoll-Line/ One of the most interesting aspects of his life for me is that the North East appears again and again in his story, and had an undoubtedly key influence on the life and work of this remarkable man. I thought it would be interesting to delve more deeply into the details of those connections for the North East Heritage Library.
Plimsoll was born in Bristol, but spent much of his youth in the north of England, albeit on the other side of the Pennines. The principal influences on his early life were the sea and a dissenting religious tradition, both of which were potent catalysts for a radical and reformer. Yet Samuel had an enterprising spirit too, and was the inventor of several items of safety equipment for coal mining, for which he held patents.
It was indeed the plight of coal miners in North East England and Yorkshire that first brought together the inventive, political, and enterprising aspects of his nature. According to his biographer, Nicolette Jones, his brother Thomas was manager of the Sunderland and Hartlepool Coal Company. Samuel moved to London in 1853 and made his first venture into the world of commerce there.
At that time, most coal was carried from the North East to London on ships known as colliers, as it had been for centuries. Samuel’s idea was to move the coal by rail, since the Leeds to London line was now operational. He was encouraged in this idea by two managers in the Great Northern Railway, who let him down badly, leaving him destitute for a while in London where he could observe the daily struggles of the poor at first hand.
He had already contributed in practical ways to the cause of injured miners and the families left bereaved after mining accidents. Now he had the chance to develop a whole philosophy to support the working class, particularly miners and sailors, combining practical and political efforts to improve their lot. Marriage to the daughter of a well-off mine owner certainly didn’t hinder his cause, since his wife and her father were sympathetic to his aims.
The image of Samuel that stands out for me is of him weeping on the shore with his wife after he made a difficult and dangerous journey from London to Redcar by sea in 1863. While Samuel and his wife were praying and giving thanks for his survival, around them on the quayside were families who had been bereaved in the storm, their vessels some of the badly-maintained coffin ships that he would rail against in Parliament, where he developed his reputation for standing up to powerful moneyed shipowning interests. This experience at Redcar would affect Samuel deeply. I can see the sands, feel the wind, taste salt on my lips and hear the keening and sobbing of the women and families when I read his words:
“I mingled my tears with hers, because I was thinking of those other women who had also spent a sleepless night and who would never see their husbands again. I was thinking of good and brave men who would never return home, and I resolved, deep down in my heart, as I stood on the sands of Redcar, to devote myself to this work. What was the difference between me and these poor, drowned sailors? Parliament had cared for my safety by sending me to sea in a ship which had been surveyed, while the sailors went to sea in any ship an owner liked to send them in … Since the morning when I stood in the sands at Redcar my wife and I have regarded everything we possess as held in trust for the sailor. If it is necessary, we will spend it for them as freely as our sailors would shed their blood for their country, if we got into trouble.”
Samuel was not alone in his fight for safety at sea and underground in the mines. Indeed, once again it was the North East and Newcastle that provided a catalyst to spur him to action. When Samuel heard of a petition organised by wealthy Newcastle shipowner James Hall, he knew they must meet and work together. Like Plimsoll, Hall was from a working-class background and had risen to be a JP in the city, as well as active in the local Chamber of Commerce. When he heard of Hall’s proposals for increased safety in shipping by preventing overloading and other measures, Samuel made a special trip to meet him.
In 1870 came one of the greatest scandals of the coffin ship era, and the one that would encourage Plimsoll to press for his Bill in Parliament for a load line to be marked on every vessel and a survey to be carried out for seaworthiness. The Sea Queen, a steamer out of Newcastle, set forth to carry coals to Málaga. The vessel had been lengthened so it could contain more, and ventured overloaded without a mainmast into bad weather. It reached no further than Yarmouth before it sank with all nineteen hands lost.
A Board of Trade enquiry in Newcastle discovered that the Sea Queen was overloaded without a doubt. The widows of some of the crew, including the Captain’s wife, testified. When Samuel’s safety bill was introduced, soon afterwards, his opponents, some of whom were from the North East and had vested interests in maintaining unregulated shipping, fought strongly against it. His opponents included Edward Temperley Gourley, MP for Sunderland.
Samuel fought hard as a politician to achieve safety for miners and sailors, not caring if he found himself in trouble on the floor of the House of Commons while doing so. Eventually the best-known of his safety principles – the Plimsoll Line to mark the limit of safe loading – was adopted, although it was years in some cases before its use was enforced.
Perhaps those of us who grow up in the North East with a good appreciation of the dangerous and difficult lives of our ancestors and relatives have even more reason to value the work of Samuel Plimsoll. Images of anxious relatives waiting at the pithead for news after an accident, or on the shore after a shipwreck, are part of our heritage, still engraved on our minds years after the collier ships have gone and the mines are closed.
As a man with wealth and influence, at least later in life, yet who retained the ability and determination to stand up to his peers and be a genuine political voice for the disadvantaged, I can only think of one modern politician who came close to Samuel Plimsoll. That was Tony Benn. The life and work of Samuel Plimsoll reminds us of the influence of North East culture and heritage on those from beyond the region as well as those who were born and grew up in it. Finally, for further insight into Samuel Plimsoll’s life, I recommend “The Plimsoll Sensation: The Great Campaign to Save Lives at Sea,” by Nicolette Jones, published by Little, Brown Book Group.
Miriam was born in Newcastle-upon-Tyne and is a historian, author, editor, and broadcaster. She specializes in equine history and is the co-editor-in-chief of Cheiron, the International Journal of Equine and Equestrian History. She has edited equestrian and archaeology magazines, and was a tutor and course developer for the University of Manchester’s networked learning course in Egyptology for twelve years. Her PhD was on the topic of the Galloway horse, and a monograph is forthcoming. She is a Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland.
Excellent article, interesting to learn about the drive for safety in what must have been such a dangerous time for working people especially in our region.