The explosion at Tunstall, Staffordshire at the Whitefield. Colliery belonging to the Chatterley Iron Company 7th. February 1881

For miles around the town of Tunstall,

Hundreds are in sorrow today,

Mothers, brothers, and dear sisters,

Heart felt tears they can not stay.

Over twenty fathers, sons and brothers,

In Whitefield pit are doomed to die,

For by fire and explosion,

In a burning pit they lie.

Fatherless children, widowed Mothers,

For miles around their fate repine,

Loving fathers, sons and brothers,

Lie burnt and dead in Whitefield mine.

Soon after three on Monday morning,

And long before the day was dawning,

It was a sense of deep despair,

These brave miners it is stated,

Went down the horse for to save,

They little thought that they were fated,

In the fiery mine to find a grave.

Each one should have took a warning,

They knew that fire was lurking there,

But eternity for them was dawning,

When they heard explosion rent the air,

Everyone of them must have perished.

Every spirit must have fled,

The men who had their families cherished,

We work no more, they all dead.

Flames rose high, the shaft was broken,

The miners had no chance of life,

The grief for them now can't be spoken,

God help each child, each poor wife,

These poor miners were beloved,

By the dear ones now alone,

Soon we hope they'll be recovered,

Is the earnest prayer of everyone.

Little ones will asked their Mothers,

When together they are alone,

Their grief we know they can not smother,

They'll say 'Alas! Where's Daddy gone?"

None can tell a Mother's feelings,

As in accents low but wild,

And the little ones the kneeling,

"I hope he's up in Heaven, my child".