American Old Time Song Lyrics: 10 Avondale Disaster

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 10

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Come Christians all both great and small, I hope you'll lend an ear,
And listen with attention while the truth I will declare;
When you hear this lamentation 'twill cause you to weep And wail,
Tin about the suffocation in the mines of Avondale.

On the sixth day of September, eighteen sixty-nine.
Those miners all obeyed the call, to go work in the mine;
But little did they think that death against them would prevail,
Before they would return again from the mines of Avondale.

Their wives and little children, with hearts so full of joy.
Watched the men go work again, and likewise every boy;
But a dismal sight in broad daylight soon did their eyes assail,
When they saw the breaker burning o'er the mines of Avondale.

From here and there, and everywhere, they gathered in a crowd.
Some tearing off their clothes and hair, some crying out aloud:
"Go save our husbands and our sons, for death is going to steal
Their lives away without delay, in the mines of Avondale."

But all in vain, it was too late one single life to save.
There was no second outlet to this subterranean cave;
No pen can tell the awful fear and horror that prevailed
Among the dying victims in the mines of Avondale.

A consultation then was held, two men did volunteer
To go into this dismal shaft and seek their comrades dear;
Two Welshmen brave without dismay, and courage without fail,
Went down the shaft without in the mines of Avondale.

When at the bottom they arrived and tried to make their way.
One of them died for want of air, and the other in great dismay,
Gave the signal to hoist them up, then told the dreadful tale,
That all was lost forever in the mines of Avondale.

Every effort then was made to send down some fresh air,
When next the men went down again, of them they took good care;
They traveled through the chambers, and this time they did not fail
In finding the dead bodies in the mines of Avondale.

Ninety-seven is the number that in one heap was found.
It seems they were bewailing their fate in under ground;
We found the father with his sons clasped in his arms so pale,
It was thus they died together in the mines of Avondale.

Now to conclude and make an end the number I'll pen down.
One hundred and ten, all brave, strong men, were smothered under ground;
They're in their graves to the last day, their friends may weep and wail.
The orphans' cries will rend the skies all 'round through Avondale.
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