‘The Vale’ – by Steve Haywood

Musician Steve Haywood – “All of my songs have been inspired from my own experience of working down the mine, but also from the stories & discussions within the family who from Grandfather, Father & Uncles spent their working lives at the Markham Pits. Spoken of through laughter & tears these stories that are passed around even today will not be forgotten.”
” ‘The Vale’ – Good stories are real, the best stories are felt. It’s been my privilege to write about an industry that was at the heart of so many communities across our country and the links to other industries that no longer prevail within the area. Looking back, all nostalgia aside, the country and communities never felt closer than they did during the age of the pits.”
Play here –
The Vale
The Vale – Part 2
Lyrics – reproduced here with kind permission of Steve Haywood.
A full version of the song was performed live at the Story Mine celebration event on 18 November 2018.
The Vale
The pit bus would roll round our sleepy old town
Loaded with miners for Markham and Ireland bound
Some from the night shift, just resting their eyes
And some for the dayshift to wake ‘em
Dawn chorus of boots would echo these streets
The old motorbikes they would thunder
All down to the valley of 4000 men
Where the winding wheels beckoned o-er yonder
Then grease up your boots if you’re working in wet
And unclip your lamp from the charger
And pick up your checks for the bank-man below
We’d always remember our number
Hold down and hold up the old miners in front they said
But young men don’t listen, so we barked our shins or banged our heads
And so seeing stars, we’d head out for the cars
Or to hurl ourselves on the man- riders
The coal trains would run so steady and sure
Winding their way on the horizon
The wheels they would clatter their beat on the ties
And spark when the guard left the brakes on.
From Arkwright, to Ireland and old Markham main
Right through the Vale and to Staveley works again
Their old silent tracks now reach out to the past
As quiet as the engine smoke fading
The screens and the washers they ran night and day
(Feeding the) the smell of the coking plant not 2 miles away,
The fires in the sky when the furnaces roared
The Sheepbridge Aurora fills the night sky no more
The parks and the trails are what now remains
And in quiet reflection we walk them sometimes
The tips and the drifts they are landscaped and gone
But still in our hearts the old vale
Lingers on
COPYRIGHT STEVE HAYWOOD
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © JULY 2018