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DARK LANE

One of the changes which have taken place in recent years has been the complete disappearance of the village of Dark Lane.

I first became aware that there was such a place as Dark Lane when I was about 9 or 10 years old. Calling on my childhood friend T. Broadhurst I was surprised to see at his home two people whom I had never seen before. One was a grey haired old man who I learned was a well known preacher Mr. Gough, the other man was quite young and was a relation of the elderly man. Future events proved why the young man was a frequent visitor to Broadhursts. He was courting their daughter Eliza, and it was then I heard about the village of Dark Lane, since this was where the young man lived.

The years passed away and my youngest sister brought home a young man named E. Gough, he too came from Dark Lane, and eventually they married. It was when 1 was 15 years old that my interest in Dark lane began. I was surprised to learn that the other sister of my friend T. Broadhurst had married a young man named Jack Egerton who also came from there, and he lived in the same row as Mr. H. Gough.

The village of Dark Lane comprised three rows of houses, two of which formed an angle, a chapel, railway station and a farm. There was also the pit banks which told of the industry of past years.

My visits to Dark Lane became very frequent. In those early days I lived at Forge Place, and from here there were two ways of getting there. The short cut which 1 used was by the Greyhound (Briar Shepherd pit bank). I went over a fence on to the LMS railway line walking alongside the line passing the Dark Lane Brickworks and reaching the village (about 200 yards ahead) up the hill was Malins Lee Station, the home of the "Dodger". On my right was one of the Long Row houses with their backs to the railway line. Turning to my left brought one to the other row of houses, with their backs facing the road up the hill. There was three taps to serve the community, (water taps) and some of the houses had pig stys, primitive lavatories were also shared, and the wash-houses.

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Dark Lane, a settlement of sixty mener's cottages

At the end of the row was access to the main road and here on the opposite side was a farm, turning to the left, brought me to the Mineral Line to Randlay Brickworks. Just ahead was the methodist chapel and further up the hill was the GWR railway bridge then past a huge pit bank on the right "Cage Pits" crossing another railway line which led to the Stafford Pits on the right and Priorslee Furnaces on the left. The road then led to the main A5 road passing Lees Farm on the right.

The other way to walk to Dark Lane and my favourite was over Briar Shepherds pit bank past a group of houses called Hollinswood, past Puddley Hill Pits, straight up the road passisng the pool on the right hand side and Forge Row and Tonks, the undertakers on the left. Here I came to crossroads, taking the left hand turn down a little lane passing a row of houses on the left and a school on the right, then through some iron gates into some meadow land where stood Malinslee Hall, just below the Hall was the remains of a very old building of Norrnan origin. Below this was a very nice house in which some friend lived, while on the right was a big house known as Abbey Villa. Here some relation of mine lived. Going through the gate, a short distance up the road was a row of houses where E. Hollingshead lived, beyond these was the road to Hinksay and Stirchley.

From Malinslee Hall was a pathway across some fields, this led direct to my sister's house and some weird cottages. Going down this road turning left at the bottom was a row of houses in which was Paynes' shop come post office, grocery and bakery. At the foot of the hill was Malinslee Station and of course the "Dodger". Over the railway bridge I was in Dark lane, passing the row of houses with the backs to the road. If I continued up this hill I would again come to the A5 main road. I was now a young man about 18 years old, and at this age was old enough to explore the lovely county. Just below the Stafford Pits was a road on the right where one could get to Naird Lane. My first visit to this place filled me with awe. I wondered where I had got to, theloveliness of scenery of the undulating countryside. Then suddenly to find a steep hill facing you was nearly amazing. Coming to more level ground a field was pointed out to me as the site of "the Stirchley Murder". I think I must have been more concerned which was the best way home. It was a road on the right past a farm house and alongside the Randlay Brickworks. Here worked at least four of my mates. The Randlay Works were on the left, a manhole where they got clay was on the right. The rough road continued passing on the right a pathway which led round Dick's Wood (Dick Willetts) across a meadow along a country lane and came out by the GWR railway bridge at the top of Dark Lane village. Continuing straight on the road which led to Dark Lane was past the village football field on which I have played many a time and crossing the nearby road brought me to Willetts farm and Dark Lane. Nearby was the methodist chapel. This walk was at least two miles and a half.

Never shall I forget reaching the masterful age of 21 years. How can I even forget those days, not sad, hopeless on in despair, but an amazing sense of wonder. Fancy me 21 years of age. How do I remember the precise moment? I was at Priorslee corner (Lees Farm) with some of my friends when I suddenly decided to take a bike ride to a seat across the Bridgnorth Road just outside Shifnal. Here was a very convenient place on the top of a steep hill and overlooking the lovely countryside. Unfortunately, by the time I got there the seat was occupied by an elderly man, who gladly made room for me, while I prefered my own company, he was most interesting because he was talking about birds, mainly the Kingfisher. The conversation continued awhile and then ended abruptly. "Look" he cried excitedly, the Kingfisher! Yes, it was a bird feasting just above the brook. He grabbed my shoulder. "Did you see that? Yest I did, but why the excitement? Then my companion told me. I am blind, but to know my friend still comes here has made my day. He bid me good day and went away. I was left alone, the bare seat, the lovely countryside and the memory of a companion who made me aware of a loveliness he knew but could never see. Here I was 21 years old, sight perfect, physically fit, unemployed (part), intent on becoming a footballer, so on that I vowed to concentrate. Footballer though, was not of me. For this is what happened.

One day I was called in to see Mr. Maddock in his office. I wonder what - the sack? Oh no, I was offered a job on the staff which meant full time work and wages. I was nearly 24 years of age. I joined the Walker Tech under a fine man Mr. Percy Bullock. About this time I met E. Hollyhead a first class singer, conductor. He took the solo in the silent picture days at the Easy Picture House Dawley. He became partly unemployed and he formed the young men and a few friends into the Dark lane Male Voice Choir. This was a very intimate step for to take. I had left Priorslee Church and joined the St. Georges Chapel Choir ard football team. With my progress at work as foreman, my mind became saturated with the desire to learn all I could.

About this time I met a young man my age. I had gone to Newport May Fair and it was here that I met this young man H. Butler. We walked from Newport and got home about 3.30 a.m. He too started to come to the chapel and to Dark Lane choir in addition to the Male Voice Choir under Mr. Hollyhead and his assistant, Mr. Enoch Biddulph. The choir numbered about 30. There was also a concert party in Dark lane village known as "Joseph's Brethren". It consisted of many of the young men and some of the very old men out of the village. The old man Joseph was a very old man named Wilson. He took it very seriously.

Those carefree days at Dark lane lasted about 18 months. I became more and more interested in my new job so found little time for anything else. The climax to this was the rapid improvements in the work. We were starting to make bombs, - 1938.

Copyright:  Estate of  Moses Evans