History
Sheffield Flood 11th March, 1864
Two Hundred Lives Lost when the Dale Dyke Dam burst it's Banks
Just before midnight on March 11th 1864, the great reservoir of the Sheffield Water Company the Dale Dyke Dam, nearly 100 acres in extent, and holding more than a million cubic feet of water, suddenly burst its embankment and swept with the fury down the narrow gorge formed by the Loxley and Stannington Hills into Sheffield itself.
News Report
Almost before warning could be given the volume of water began rushing headlong down the valley, sweeping farms and houses, forges and factories. Whatever the sudden and tremendous flood, could reach it destroyed.
Calculating only by the number of houses it swept away and the persons missing, there is every reason to fear that the lives sacrificed by this awful calamity will not be less than 200, if they do not unfortunately exceed even that number, of the damage done to property it is impossible at this early date to form even a conjecture. The devastation in this respect is unparalleled. A large, populus, and thriving district has been almost obliterated from the earth, scarce more than traces of the houses and factories that once stood there now remaining.
Those who are acquainted with the neighbourhood of Sheffield know that at a considerable elevation above the town, on the little Matlock side, in the nook where the Loxley and Stannington Hills join the great reservoirs of the Sheffield Water Company are placed. In this part of the country, between five and six miles from Sheffield, the reservoirs form such picturesque accessories to the surrounding hills that no one who seen them will easily forget them while, on the other hand, those who have once seen them will understand at the very mention of their name how destructive must have been their bursting into the steep valley which they overlooked, all which led direct into the lower parts of Sheffield.
The Bradfield Reservoir which gave way so fatally was of immense length, though narrow in width and would hold 114,000,000 cubic feet of water when it was full. But it is said it was not quite full on Friday. Ominous reports had been current as to the state of the embankment which is of enormous depth and thickness, and was thought to be of commensurate strength. Its appearance of massive solidity was, belied by the facts.
About 9 on Friday night, after the engineers in charge had left, a farm labourer, crossing the embankment as a short cut across the valley, noticed a crack, in it. He at once raised the alarm, and ran down the valley to recall the engineers (Mr. Gunson and another gentleman), and he succeeded in overtaking them. They returned but thought the crack of little importance. In a short, time, however, other signs presented themselves and they attempted to blow up a weir that crossed the dam at one end, in order to allow the water to escape. While the men were engaged in laying the charge, Mr. Gunson and his companion went to the fissure and crossed it. Mr. Gunson had scarcely got clear when the fissure widened to a tremendous crevasse, and a portion of the embankment, 110 yards long by 70 feet deep, gave way at once, and the 'world of water' rushed with a prodigious roar into the valley below. The enormous mass burst down the hillsides with a din like the heaviest thunder, and the people in the valley were drowned instantaneously in their houses, from which they had not the slightest chance of escape.
The full fury of the flood spent itself on the district lying between the junction of the Loxley and the Rivelin and the Neepsend Bridge. The scene of devastation there is awful. Solid and substantial buildings, workshops, rows of houses, bridges , everything that opposed the course of the flood, yielded before its overwhelming might. All were whelmed beneath the mighty rush of the waters. But the loss of property, incalculable at it is at present, sinks into insignificance when compared with the awful loss of human life. Persons who are familiar with the district will know that between Hillsborough Bridge and Malin Bridge there stood long rows of cottage houses, inhabitated by the workmen of the mills and forges on the adjacent streams with their families. With a few exceptions, the flood has wholly demolished all these rows of dwellings.
In many instances even their foundations are obliterated. Standing at the junction of the Loxley and the Rivelin are only a few scattered houses, the walls and windows burst in by the flood, standing to mark the site of the once populous village. The enormous volume of water debouching from the gorge at the foot of Loxley valley seems to have divided itself into two streams, which swept with resistless force over the hamlets of Malin Bridge and Hillsborough. The bridges that formerly crossed the stream have been swept away to their foundation stones, and the districts which the streams divide are separated by a rushing torrent of water, which had not subsided even on Saturday.
Turning toward Sheffield and embracing a brief exploration of the ruins showed that the tidings of disaster failed to represent the full extent of the dreadful catastrophe. Whole families were swept away with their dwellings and not a trace remained of the thriving and industrious artisans who sought their beds on Friday night, unconscious of the dreadful fate that has so suddenly befallen them.
A forge upon a headland near the junction of the two streams was swept away with all its heavy machinery, and two men who were working at the hammers were among the first victims. The volume of water there seems to have entirely swept away one row of cottages, and destroyed the back row of another row, leaving only the front wall and some portions of the flooring in a precarious state. Among the first of the houses that fell was the Stag Public House, kept by a person named Armitage. The family numbered 11 persons, and they were all drowned.
On the headland was a farm house inhabited by a family named Trickett. The house was swept away with all its occupants, who are stated to have numbered 10 or 11 persons. The farm premises, with 14 milk cows, were also carried away by the flood. Not a vestige of the homestead remains. Near to the house lived a Mr. Price, a shopkeeper, whose household including his son and a daughter-in-law, numbered six persons; all of whom are drowned. It is said that in this row of houses there was a woman who had been but two days confined. The infant was washed out of her arms and the mother was found dead in the road among part of the ruins. In one of the detached houses near this row lived a family named Spooner. With them lived an old man, 74 years of age, named William Wostenholm, the father of Mrs. Spooner. There were ten in the family, and not one of them survives. Near the spot was a little boy, a grandson of Wostenholm, who was weeping bitterly and seeking in vain to discover even a vestige of the house where his relatives lived. The next row of houses called Bower's Buildings are very strongly built, and, though they are greatly injured, they have been saved from utter destruction.
The condition of the walls of many of the houses testifies to the force with which the water dashed past. In some instances the inmates, who were, of course, in bed, were compelled to remain in the upper rooms for several hours before they could be released. One of the houses that was destroyed was occupied by a man named Cropper and his wife and two children. They were all drowned and their bodies swept away. Near to their house was a house occupied by an old man and his grandson. The old man saved himself by escaping to the garret, but his grandson was jambed by some of the furniture in a corner of the stairs and was drowned almost within reach of his relative. William Watson lived in one of the same row of houses with his wife and two children. The flood demolished their house and carried them out, but Watson, as he was being whirled along on the surface of the torrent, contrived to grasp a broken window frame in one of the partially submerged houses, and was saved, but his wife and children are lost. A public house, kept by George Bisby, was partially demolished, only one of the bedrooms and the back kitchen remaining. Bisby, his wife,and four children are gone.
Next are a row of houses called 'the Brick Row'. The mud upon the houses showed that the waters had risen from 16 to 18 feet above the roadway. In the first house in the row lived Mr. Dyson, his wife and children and other relatives. Only one out of the ten survived, the brother of Mr. Dyson. He was sleeping in the top of the building and on hearing the rush of water, smashed through a portion of the roof, made his way through the joists and broke through the slates on to the roof where he remained until assistance came.
In the back of the last house in the row, 2 of the Atkinson children were swept out of their bedroom along with the bed, they were drowned.
The next 2 houses were occupied by the Turner's and Taplin's. No trace of them or their homes were left.
The Hillsborough Inn and the Shakespeare Inn across the road had a narrow escape, although a corpse was dug out of the mud nearby. In a stable attached to the Yew Tree Inn were 6 corpses of 3 men and 3 women. Several more bodies were found here.
Towards Owlerton, a number of cottages were completely washed away, and a thick deposit of mud concealed the well kept gardens. Almost every house was used as a dead house. At every turning there were police, parties of volunteers. In Mr. Holland's public house there were 5 bodies, in the Victoria, four. There were bodies in the stables, on the roadside and in the stream.
The massive boundary wall of the Sheffield Barracks, on the lower side was swept away, two of the children of Paymaster Sergeant Foulds were drowned in their bed. The sentry at the gate had a narrow escape.
At Neepsend , the Sheffield Daily Telegraph described:
One large part of a factory has been cut away as if it had been sawn close by the partition wall. Further down is a row of houses with their fronts removed. Near the ditches and corners of these gardens men, knee deep in mud are looking for the forms of women, children, and property. The water mark shows that some of these houses have been submerged nearly to the roof.
In the town of Sheffield the destruction was almost greater than in the valley. The Sheffield Telegraph reported:
In the town the first alarm was given at about quarter past 12. The sharp hiss as of escaping steam, the sound as of a mighty rush of water, made people run towards the river, when it was found that the Don was in an extraordinary flood, and that some dreadful calamity had occurred. At two o'clock the height and force of the current had greatly abated. There was still a great volume of water and the roar with which it rushed sounded like an express train in a cutting. On Lady's Bridge a great number of people were standing looking over the parapets on the fearful heaps of timber mixed with straw and other debris which the flood had piled up against the masonwork of the bridge. The immense quantity of rafters, flooring, joists, planks and the miscellaneous articles heaped to within a few feet of the top of the bridge told a portentous story of buildings destroyed, and melancholy were the forebodings of those who looked upon the ruin. There seemed wood enough to build a village. But bad as were the fears of those who looked upon the evidence of disaster, none knew how dreadful was the reality, and the majority had not the most distant idea of the loss of life that occurred. At the police station was a crowd of poor ill dressed people who had been flooded out of their dwellings, and who were glad to spend the night crouching round the fire, and in the streets were several people moving about, hastily with torches which they had improvised. But as yet there was nothing known among the crowd of the loss of life, and the spectators fondly hoped that the mass of wood might prove to be nothing but the contractors plant, increased by rubbish swept from the banks of the river.
Saturday morning and the enormity of the disaster became evident. The wooden bridge at Hillfoot had gone, completely carried away by the first rush of water, and with a noise that startled the sleeping people, who sprang from their beds with alarm. The view they saw from their windows was startling, the screams and cries for help heartrending. Just below the bridge, by the weir stood a small house, occupied by James Sharman and his wife who attended to the shuttle at the goit that supplied Messrs. Butcher's Philadelphia Work. The watchman aroused the family when the water began to rise. No sooner had they left when the current carried the house away and all that remained was the foundation. Along with the house went the bridge of the goit. At Philadelphia corn mill horses, pigs and fowls were drowned.
On Bacon Island, a low lying piece of ground between the goit and the river, lived the Wright family. In the block of houses of which Wrights formed a part, every one was damaged. The flood rose to the chambers and floated the inmates in their beds. The body of a woman was found at the Philadelphia works, and a whole family living near Neepsend bridge were carried away. In Ebenezer Street, the body of a man was found. At Kelham Rolling Mill the men were compelled to escape by the roof.
The destruction of property round the Midland station was enormous, this part of the town was for a time completely inundated. The large manufacturers suffered great loss, and the small householders were mostly ruined.
The cast iron bridge leading from the Crofts to Neepsend was gone.On Nursery Street, the stout railings and stones in which they were set were gone. The buildings on the opposite side of the street would need rebuilding. The front of the Manchester Railway Hotel was broken in and several low buildings on the waters edge near the Nursery Corn Mill were carried away. Although damage to the Corn Mill was not large, the stock was rendered worthless. Stanley Street, John Street and Andrew Street were less fortunate and formed channels for broad streams of water.
The walls surrounding Trinity Church were destroyed as were those of Bethesda Chapel, Stanley Street. The school room was damaged
Attercliffe Meadows on either side of the river were under water. The works of Naylor and Vickers, under construction, near Brightside station, sustained serious damage.
Intense damage was caused to the tradespeoples along the Wicker. Several people were missing and some bodies recovered and conveyed to the Bull and Oak. »
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