Star InactiveStar InactiveStar InactiveStar InactiveStar Inactive
 

Irish Mail train crash at Abergele, Angelsey, August 1868

094Headblock.png094Headblock.png

You tender feeling Christians, That dwells on Britain's isle
Oh listen with attention; I pray give ear a while
To hear of this dreadful accident, It will grieve your heart full sore
Of such a dreadful accident, You seldom heard before

Chorus: Twenty-three alas were burnt to death
And thousand to bewail
Proceeding to their friends and home
In the Irish limited¹ mail

On the twentieth day of August, On the Thursday morning soon
They left London bound for Ireland, In vigour youth and bloom
Free from care and pain in the mail train, They started with a smile
To meet their friends and kindred upon old Erin's isle

Before they did reach Holyhead, there was a dreadful shock
It was at a place called Abergele, At the hour of one o' clock
A luggage train with petroleum, dashed in and all amazed
And the carriages that moment, were in an dreadful blaze

The fire raged most furiously, what a dreadful sight to see
And burnt unto a cinder, alas were twenty-three
Lord Farnham was amongst them Who the dreadful death did die
Not one among the twenty-three could there be recognised

Her Grace the duchess of Abercorn, Her two daughters and three sons
From the dreadful conflagration, so luckily did run
They by the aid of providence, did with their lives escape
And thanked the God who saved them from the others' dreadful fate

Such a sad and dread calamity draws tears from every eye
All in a heap of ashes, their bodies no do lie
While we hope their souls in glory, are now in heaven above
With their blessed Saviour, singing His redeeming love

They little thought that morning, awaited them such a fate
The twentieth day of August Eighteen hundred and sixty eight
That morning they left London, So joyful with a smile
Unto their friends and kindred upon old Erin's isle.

 

Please publish modules in offcanvas position.