Silverwood Logo by John Doxey background photo Mick Carver1900 - 1994

Dedicated to the Miners of Silverwood

History of the Mine


Silverwood Mine

Hollings Lane


South Yorkshire England

Webmaster John Doxey

Main Photos Jonathan Dabs.

Additional content Mick Carver








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[ The last conversation ]

Having read through the tragic stories of miners trapped and buried below ground , as a father I tried to imagine what would a Yorkshire miner say in such an situation if he had his son by his side. So here is my attempt in verse to portray that scenario.

[ The last conversation ]

By John Doxey

'Ere we are lad in a reight owd pickle nah,
No water left int Dudley to even mop thi brow,
Nowt a can do ta ease thi pain,
'Appen its fa best tha's passed aght again
Nowt but darkness is all I can see,
Dun't think the's nobdy left, cept me 'n' thee.

Thi mum 'ill be panicking wondering what's gone off,
She told thi ta ave a laker today cos o thi cough,
Not thee, take more than that ta keep thee away,
Din't wanna miss working wi Dad, not fa one day,
Nah ere thy are laid wi thi ead on me knee,
Looks like  its t'end for me 'n' thee.

I remember day thart wa born, ee a wa proud,
Went round telling neighbours, yelling "A gorra son" real loud,
I told thi stories as tha grew up big n strong,
Spoilt thi rotten though a knew it wa wrong
I knew we'd gerron it wa as plain as cud be,
We've allus been best a mates me 'n' thee.

Took thee fa thi first drink o beer, warra neet,
Pair on us staggered 'ome plattin' us feet,
Thi Mum gid us a tongue lashing when we gorrin door,
She wa livid that neet like ne'er afore,
But she allus took care on us, tha's gorra agree,
We'er lucky to 'ave her, me 'n' thee

I know tha can't answer but am talking ta thi anyway,
Cos thats what ad be doing on any other day,
Ah dun't think they'll gerrus aght a this oil,
Who'd think th'ud be anyone alive, buried in coil,
Its a hellava place fa anyone to be,
More than likely lay ere forever, me 'n' thee.

Am sorry na son a got thi dahnt mine,
An thee ba'ht ta get married in two weeks time,
Luvly young lass wud a med thee a gud wife,
Nah 'ere we are wi no chance a life
S'pose a just wanted thi wi me,
Tha nose jus like allus, me 'n' thee.

Dun't know what thi mum 'ill do,

Nah she'll be on er own, wi'aght us two,
Nowt we can do nah cept sit here and curse,

As fa thi Mum well it couldn't get no worse,

Maybe she'll stay fa awhile wi her family,

But I know she'd'a' sooner bin wi me n thee


Eee I cud sup a beer nah, reight enuff,

Me throats full o dust n other stuff,

They say cigs are bad fa ya, but this is worse,

Lungs all stuffed up wi' miners curse,

Nah laying 'ere knowing wi gonna dee,

I'm crying me eyes aght, fa me n thee.

Who'd a thought roof 'ud cave in 'n' bury us 'ere,
Listening ta all us mates screaming wi' fear,
Can't ere thi breathing, a know tha's gone ,
 Am glad tha can't see me tears owd son,
Dun't thee fret al be wi thi soon, tha'll see,
I 'ope thurs a 'eaven fa, Me 'n' Thee.

Šopyright John Doxey


As a follow on to the above poem I wrote down my thoughts on the fate of those tragic miners who will forever remain down the mine.



By John Doxey

The big wheels stopped turning, the cage no more to descend,

The production of coal was now at an end,

Colliery buildings disappeared in clouds of dust,

Leaving the Miners voicing "what about us",

As the shafts were sealed like a final blow,

Who will remember those left in the depths below.


Memories are stored in the minds of each man,

Stories of horror in less than a one hundred year span,

Roofs caving in, without warning or care,

Sealing the fate of those who were there,

It could happen at anytime , a risk each miner would know,

Now who will remember those left in the depths below.


The ghost of Silverwood is a true legend  I'm told,

An apparition of a miner, a sad lost soul,

There are many souls still there in sealed tunnels of the mine,

Sealed in tombs until the end of time,

Crushed and lifeless like freshly walked on snow,

Who will remember those left in the depths below.


No headstone, no coffin , no epitaph to see,

Such was the fate of these proud men to be,

Mother Earth claimed them as her own to keep,

Never to yield up her victims in their endless sleep,

Let us not forget as our life blood does flow,

These miners still left in the depths below.


Price of coal or name it what you will,

Matters little now to these men laying still,

They took the risk  and gambled their lives,

Yet we should ensure at least their memory survives,

A monument to let the whole world know,

There are proud miners still in the depths below.


Šopyright John Doxey

With thanks to Rose Walkington whose story of her Granddad Alfred Blyton inspired the above poems.





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