A poetical photograph of the scene by Will Halpine, poet rambler
A Sabbath morn in autumn, sunshine and balmy air;
But little we knew its dawning would bring death and despair.
An ill-fated train was speeding, carrying a merry throng,
Laughing and jesting exultant, with buoyant spirits and song.
How pleasant, as steaming swiftly, mid meadows of waving corn,
Little dreaming this pleasure was author of many to mourn.
Excursionists bound to Atlantic, with happy hearts and gay,
But oh! If they had known what was to happen that day.
Full fifty miles an hour, dashing, rumbling on,
Not even heeding the signal put out at Souderton.
The red flag waved a warning of danger on ahead
Twas boldly disregarded, and on the death train sped.
A crash of trains, then debris; the dying and the dead;
Mangled forms and bleeding an awful scene, blood red.
Gay laughs had in a twinkling been turned to maniac cries,
While dust and smoke from debris whirled upward to the skies.
Rails twisted into spirals; two trains a rubbish heap.
Result A Hatfield Horror while widows and orphans weep.
Source: The Lansdale Reporter, 13 September 1900
A party of both young and old were on their pleasant trip,
For without a moment's warning on that train, a grim of death appeared
As I gazed upon heart-bleeding scenes on that fatal morning,
My father present underneath the wreck, a daughter cried.
The scene is one I'll never forget as long as I may live.