by Ron Treharne

The Hamstead Mine Disaster

On Spouthouse Bridge, I stood at dusk and scanned
The Village, round, and I drove my gaze t'where
The Pit-head stood, as, hard, the fisted-hand
Of disaster struck with grief and dispair

On the few, who ventured down the shaft
Of death, with, pick and shovel for the coal-
Packed earth, where a broken cry, from the craft
Of toil, told of a flame, And the whole

Of the land of Hamstead stirred, as the blade
Of the driving knife of smoke stabbed and tore
Through the breathless lungs of the men who prayed
And slipped into death and a darker core

As the eye of pain, upon Hamstead, bled
Down six and twenty tears for the dead.

Information

• The HAMSTEAD MINERS MEMORIAL TRUST is a registered Charity No.1098711
• We welcome information and photographs on Hamstead Colliery and Great Barr