The Springwell Pit Accident, Little Dawley, Shropshire

On the 6th December 1872, at a few minutes past four p.m., as Eight unfortunate Colliers were ascending the Pit, the Chain suddenly broke, precipitating them 50 yards down the pit, and hurrying them into eternity. They were all interne in one vault, at the Parish Church, Dawley, on Tuesday 10th December 1872

What a world of care and trouble,
Daily, nightly, we bewail;
The loss of father, brother, cousin,
Of some relative, ... sad's their tale,
Pelsall calamity scarcely o'er,
When awful news comes to our ears,
That eight poor colliers have departed
Out of this mournful vale of tears.

Twas on the sixth day of December,
At Springwell Pit, sad to relate,
In Dawley Field, in brave old Shropshire,
Eight healthy men met their sad fate,
Their work being done, for home preparing,
And to the bottom they had come,
Little thinking their days were numbered,
And that they'd never see their home.

The band had started, eight ascending,
Cheerful as the noonday sun,
When, little thinking, for a moment,
Every man his race had run.
When, lo! a whirl that colliers call it,
Took its awful course, we're told,
And dashed the eight men to the bottom,
Smashed to atoms. But their souls ...

Were wafted, quick as lightning,
To their Maker, up on high;
Who gives us colliers daily warning,
That our end is very nigh.
We who toil and bravely labour,
Hard to earn our daily bread;
We cannot tell the day nor hour,
But what we may be brought home dead.

A fearful sight was at the bottom,
Men cut and bruised from head to toe;
With tons of chain and iron upon them,
Which filled the collier's hearts with woe.
But fear and danger at such a moment,
-Never enters a collier’s heart;
So they toiled with anxious labour,
In hope that some hurt, may have a spark.

Of life within their mangled bodies,
To cheer them toiling down below;
But strength and hope had nearly vanished,
Only two could breathe, but lo,
Their prayers to God the only giver
Of life and health, were quickly raised;
That he had spared those few below,
To repent of sin and mend their ways.

So that at every moment,
They may stand for ever blest;
And always ready to meet danger,
To be sure of eternal rest.
So may Christ the Loved Redeemer,
Fit each collier for above;
And unite each one as brother,
And turn all hatred into love.

So that all at the last trumpet,
Will be called to our Saviour's side,
Where all dangers and troubles ended,
For ever there with Christ to abide.
Where songs to God through eternity,
Mingle with the blest above;
May each collier feel the blessing,
With all strife turned into love.

May He bless the widowed mother and the offspring by her side:
May He crown the sorrowing mothers, Fathers, sisters, and brothers guide.
And each day give them grace and glory, to guide their feet in paths of right;
that when their journey here is ended, He'll take them to eternal light.

These verses were composed by. W.R. Morgan, Artist, 3 King Street, Dawley
where copies may be had.

Riding the Doubles