The disastrous effects of the fire-damp are not confined to the loss of

human life; they are also extremely injurious to the workings, tearing

up galleries, shattering machinery, or even setting fire to the mine—an

accident which may also be caused by spontaneous combustion[41] or by

the negligence of the workmen. These fires are often subdued by

isolating the burning coal seam, by means of dams or clay walls, or by

filling the mine with water; but not seldom they last for years, and

assume dimensions which mock all human efforts to extinguish them.

Footnote 41:

Experience has proved that when sulphuret of iron undergoes a chemical

change into vitriol it disengages a sufficient quantity of heat to set

fire to the coal with which it is often found mixed.

At Brûlé, near St. Etienne, a coal mine has been on fire for ages. The

soil on the surface is barren and calcined, and the dense sulphurous

fumes, escaping from innumerable crevices, give the country a complete

volcanic aspect.

In the carboniferous basins of Staffordshire and of Saarbrück and

Silesia there are likewise coal mines which have been on fire for a long

period. At Zwickau in Saxony the first accounts of one of these

subterranean conflagrations date as far back as the fifteenth century,

and the fire still burns on. The hot vapours which rise from the surface

have since 1837 been put to an ingenious use. Conducted through pipes

into conservatories, they ripen the choicest fruits of the south, and

produce a tropical climate under a northern sky.

In a Staffordshire colliery which had been on fire for many years, and

which was called by the inhabitants Burning Hill, it was noticed that

the snow melted on reaching the ground, and that the grass in the

meadows was always green. Some speculators conceived the idea of

establishing a school of horticulture on the spot, and imported colonial

plants at a heavy expense. These flourished for a time, but one day the

subterranean fire went out, and as the heat it had imparted to the soil

gradually diminished and departed, the exotic vegetation likewise

drooped and died.

CHAPTER XXIV.

GOLD.

The Golden Fleece—Golden Statues in ancient Temples—A Free-thinking

Soldier—Treasures of ancient Monarchs—First Gold Coins—Ophir—Spanish

Gold Mines—Bohemian Gold Mines—Discovery of America—Siberian Gold

Mines—California—Marshall—Rush to the Placers—Discovery of Gold in

Australia—The Chinaman’s Hole—New Eldorados—Alluvial Gold Deposits in

California and Australia—Washing—Quartz-crushing.

Gold is probably the metal which has been longest known to man. For as

it is found only in the metallic state, its weight and brilliancy most

naturally have attracted attention or awakened greed at a very early

age. Thus we read in the Bible that one of the rivers flowing from

Paradise ‘compasseth the whole land of Havilah, where there is gold, and

the gold of that land is good.’ Gold is also mentioned among the riches

of Abraham, and when the patriarch’s servant met Rebekah at the fountain

of Nahor, he presented the damsel with a ‘golden earring of half a

shekel weight, and two bracelets for her hands of ten shekels weight of

gold,’ undoubtedly the first trinkets on record.

The mythical history of Greece has likewise been thought to point to a

very ancient knowledge of gold, and the story of the search for the

‘Golden Fleece’ has by some been explained as an expedition undertaken

in quest of the metal; for the use of sheepskins or woollen coverings,

to collect and retain the minutest particles of gold during the

operation of washing, is common in many auriferous countries. From the

great value which the ancient nations attached to its possession, gold

was largely used for the decoration of their temples, and many of their

idols were made of gold. Such, among others, was the image of Belus,

seated on a golden throne in the great temple of Babylon; that of Apollo

at Delphi, and the magnificent statue of the Olympian Zeus, composed, by

the hand of Phidias, of ivory and gold, and still less remarkable for

its costly materials than for the consummate beauty of its workmanship.

Pliny relates that a massive golden statue of the goddess Anaitis was

taken by Marc Antony in his war against the Parthians. The Emperor

Augustus, dining one day at Bononia with an old veteran who had taken

part in the campaign, asked him whether it was true that the

sacrilegious soldier who had first laid hands on the goddess had been

suddenly deprived of the use of his eyes and limbs, and had thus

miserably perished. ‘I myself am the man,’ answered the smiling host;

‘you are dining from off her thigh, and to her am I indebted for all the

plate in my possession.’

The wealth of monarchs was estimated less by the extent of their domains

than by the gold which they possessed, and as each successive conqueror

added to the spoils of vanquished nations, the treasures accumulated by

single despots grew to an almost fabulous amount. Every schoolboy knows

that the vast treasures of Crœsus fell into the hands of Cyrus, who,

according to the rather questionable authority of Pliny, acquired in

Asia Minor no less than 24,000 pounds weight of gold, without reckoning

the vases and the wrought metal. To this treasure his son Cambyses added

the gold of Egypt, and Darius Hystaspis the tribute of the frontier

nations of India. Thus the gold of almost the whole known world was

accumulated in one single hoard, which, after the taking of Persepolis,

fell into the hands of Alexander the Great. Plutarch relates that 10,000

teams of mules and 500 camels were needed for the transport of this

wealth to Susa, where Alexander was cheated out of a great part of it by

his treasurer. Rome, the subsequent mistress of the world, naturally

absorbed the greater part of the riches of Tyre and Carthage, of Asia

and Egypt. Sixty-six years after the third Punic war the public treasury

contained 1,620,831 pounds weight of gold, and still greater wealth was

accumulated under the Cæsars. As the empire declined, the hoards amassed

in the times of its increasing power were once more dispersed. A

considerable part, however, found its way to Constantinople, and after

many a loss, caused by the repeated disasters of a thousand years, the

remnant fell at length into the hands of the victorious Turks.

The time when gold was first coined is unknown. The oldest specimen in

the Imperial Cabinet at Vienna is from Cyzicus, a town of Mysia, and

bears the date of the seventh century before Christ; the next coin in

point of antiquity is Persian, and was probably struck under the reign

of Cyrus. According to Pliny, gold was first coined by the Romans in the

year 547 after the foundation of the city. During the empire of the

Chalifes Abuschafar-al-Monsur established a mint at Bagdad, in which

silver coins (dirhems) and gold coins (dinars)[42] were struck. The

Visigoths in Spain likewise had golden coins; but in the other western

mediæval States they first appear, after a long interval, under Lewis

the Pious, son of Charlemagne, in Venice, in 1290; and in Bohemia, under

John of Luxembourg. The gold of the Carolingian monarch probably

proceeded from the spoils of the old west Roman Empire; that of the

Venetians (zecchins or ducats) was, no doubt, obtained, like that of the

Phœnicians of old, by trading with the gold countries of Africa and of

the distant East. The Florentines, the rivals of Venice, likewise

obtained wealth by trade, and struck gold coins, which, from their being

stamped with a flower, the arms of Florence, were called fiorini, or

florins.

Footnote 42:

These names were borrowed from the Greek Drachma and the Latin

Denarius.

The coins of the kings of Bohemia were made from indigenous gold. It is

hardly necessary to remark that since those times the use of gold coins

has been constantly increasing with the progress of trade and

civilisation; but even now, in many African and Asiatic countries which

possess large quantities of gold, no coins are struck, but the metal is

weighed, and thus serves as a medium of exchange, in the same manner as

in the times of Abraham or Jacob.

The countries from which the ancients obtained their chief supply of

gold were the Indian Highlands, Colchis, and Africa. The seat of Ophir,

which furnished this precious metal to the Phœnician and Jewish traders,

is unknown. While some authorities place it on the east coast of Africa,

others fix its situation somewhere on the west coast of the Indian

peninsula; and Humboldt is even of opinion that the name had only a

general signification, and that a voyage to Ophir meant no more than a

commercial expedition to any of the coasts or isles of the Indian Ocean,

just as at present we speak of a voyage to the Levant or the West

Indies. The golden sands over which the Pactolus, a small river of

Lydia, rolled, gave rise, it has been said, to the wealth of Crœsus.

The richest auriferous land in Europe was the Iberian peninsula, which

for centuries yielded a golden harvest, first to the Carthaginians, then

to the Romans, and at a still later period to the Visigoths and the

Moors. During the middle ages Bohemia was renowned for its gold, and the

accounts that have reached us of the times when her auriferous deposits

first began to be extensively worked remind us of the scenes which our

own age has witnessed in California or Australia. Bloody conflicts

frequently arose between gold-diggers and peasants because the former

devastated the fields and meadows and left them permanently sterile.

Even now in many parts of the country long ranges of sand hillocks and

rubbish mounds remain as memorials of the mediæval gold-diggers.

Frequent famines arose in the land, as many of the inhabitants gave up

agriculture for mining.

A new epoch in the history of gold began with the discovery of America.

We all know by what prodigies of valour the Spaniards obtained

possession of the treasures of Montezuma and of the Peruvian Incas, and

how frequently acts of a fiendish cruelty, inspired by the love of gold,

and aggravated by a bloodthirsty fanaticism, tarnished the lustre of

their arms.

More recently, about the year 1836, rich deposits of auriferous sand

were discovered in Siberia, and soon raised the frozen regions of the

Jenisei to the rank of the first gold-producing country in the

world.[43] But the fame of the Russian mines was soon eclipsed by the

eventful discovery of the Californian placers.

Footnote 43:

‘The Polar World,’ p. 231.

It was in January 1848, a short time after the incorporation of the

province with the United States, that one James Marshall, who had

contracted to build a saw-mill on the land of Captain Sutter, about

sixty miles east of Sacramento, discovered the glittering particles in

the mud of the brook on which he was at work. Trembling with excitement,

he hurried to his employer, and told his story. Captain Sutter at first

thought it was a fiction, or the wild dream of a maniac; but his doubts

were soon at an end when Marshall laid on the table before him a few

ounces of the shining dust. The two agreed to keep the matter secret,

and quietly to share the golden harvest between them. But, as they

afterwards searched more narrowly, their eager gestures and looks

happened to be closely watched by a Mormon labourer employed about the

neighbourhood. He followed their movements, and the secret was speedily

divulged.

It appears that Marshall did not escape the ordinary lot of discoverers,

for a few years later he was wandering, poor and homeless, over the land

which was first indebted to him for its enormous development.

The intelligence of the Californian gold treasures soon spread over the

world, and a wonderful flood of immigration began into the newly-

proclaimed Eldorado. An innumerable crowd of adventurers from every part

of the New World, from the Sandwich Islands, from Europe, from

Australia, came pouring in over the Rocky Mountains, through Mexico,

round Cape Horn, or across the Pacific, all eager to seize fortune in a

bound or to perish in the attempt. Every week dispatched its thousands

to the diggings, and saw its hundreds of successful adventurers return

to dissipate their earnings in the gambling saloons of the infant

metropolis. In less than ten years California numbered more than half a

million of inhabitants, and San Francisco, from an obscure hamlet, had

risen to the rank of one of the great commercial emporiums of the world.

Science had little to do with the discovery of gold in California; but

the case was different in Australia. As early as 1844 Sir Roderick

Murchison directed attention to the remarkable resemblance between the

Australian cordillera and the auriferous Uralian chain. Two years later,

his surmises about the hidden treasures of that distant colony were

confirmed by some samples of auriferous quartz sent to him from

Australia. Relying upon this fact, he advised some Cornish emigrants to

choose Australia for their new home, and to seek for gold among the

_débris_ of the primitive rocks. His opinion having become known at

Sydney, through the newspapers, researches were made, which proved so

far successful that in 1848 gold was found in several places in South

Australia.

The first important discovery was, however, not made before the year

1851, when Mr. Hargraves made known to Government that rich gold

deposits were situated to the north-west of Bathurst, on the Summerhill

and Lewis rivulets, which flow into the Macquarie. When the geological

Government inspector arrived at Summerhill Creek, on May 19, he found

that about four hundred persons had already assembled there, who,

without any other mining apparatus than a shovel and a simple tin pot,

gained, on an average, from one to two ounces of gold daily.

Soon after, still richer deposits were found near the Turon and the

Meroo, two other branches of the Macquarie. Here a native shepherd, in

the service of Dr. Kerr, found three quartz blocks, of which the largest

contained sixty pounds weight of pure gold. It may easily be supposed

that the whole neighbourhood became at once the scene of active

researches, which at first proved fruitless, until at length a fourth

quartz block was discovered, and publicly sold for a thousand pounds.

Other discoveries were made within the bounds of New South Wales; but

even the richest of them were soon to be obscured by the treasures of

the neighbouring colony.

As late as 1836 Port Philip had remained an unknown land, for it was not

until then that its first settlers, attracted by the richness of the

pastures, arrived from Tasmania. Soon a small town arose on the Yarra-

Yarra, and, though badly chosen as a port, Melbourne soon rose to

importance. In 1850 the district was made an independent colony, which

received the name of Victoria. Here the traders and sheep-drivers now

mourned over the news from Sydney. The best workmen had already left for

the gold-fields, and if the exodus went on increasing, nothing remained

for them but to follow the example, or quietly to await the ruin of

their hopes—a patience which agrees but little with the Anglo-Saxon

character.

To prevent the impending evil, a reward of 200 guineas was immediately

set upon the discovery of a gold-field within 120 miles from Melbourne,

and soon after the world was astonished by the intelligence of the

fabulous riches of Ballarat, at the source of the River Lea. The first

consequence of this discovery was that the towns of Geelong and

Melbourne, both not above sixty miles from Ballarat, were immediately

deserted by their inhabitants, and that, within a few weeks, more than

3,000 gold-diggers had collected on the spot, who were gaining, on an

average, their ten or twenty pounds a day. But here also there was no

definite resting-place, for new prospects of dazzling wealth constantly

allured the crowd to new and still more distant fields of enterprise.

Twenty thousand people, meeting with fair success, would migrate in a

day, abandon their claims, and rush upon the new tract. The passions of

human nature were roused by one of the strongest of its instincts; and

madness and suicide, arising from excess of joy and wild despair, were

far from uncommon occurrences. The whole order of society was inverted,

and the labourer became of more importance than the employer of labour.

The scum of the adjoining colonies boiled over and deluged the land with

vice and crime. Bush-ranging extended over every portion of the country,

and even the streets of Melbourne became the scenes of robbery and

murder. The diggers were of all nations: Germans, French, Italians,

American-Irish, Californians, and Chinese—these last being the best

conducted of this motley population, who as early as 1860 numbered

50,000. To this strange people one of the most remarkable of the

Australian gold discoveries is due. The immigration-tax, which had been

vainly devised to check their influx (for they are objects of the

greatest antipathy to the white gold-diggers), drove them to a

surreptitious mode of entering the colony; and, landing at Gurchen Bay

in South Australia, and taking a course thence over the frontier across

the Grampian ranges, they came upon a deposit of marvellous richness, in

the neighbourhood of Mount Ararat. In one of their first encampments,

while picking up the roots of grass and prying for gold, they found the

celebrated ‘Chinaman’s Hole,’ which yielded 3,000 ounces in a few hours.

This led to the greatest rush which had ever been known in the gold-

fields, for 60,000 people congregated there in a few weeks, and before a

month had elapsed an immense town was systematically laid out. Shops,

taverns and hotels, theatres and billiard-rooms, sprang up in the

desert, like the mystic trees of Indian jugglers, and were quickly

followed by a daily mail and a daily newspaper. Thus, within the space

of two months, the magical power of gold converted a wild mountain gorge

into a teeming city, where frontages were nearly as valuable as in the

heart of London.

[Illustration: GOLD-WASHING IN AUSTRALIA.]

The great social disorganisation which distinguished the first few years

of the Australian gold discoveries has long since passed away, together

with much of the excitement natural to a transition state. Order now

universally prevails, and the occupations of life are pursued with as

much regularity as in the oldest States. The growth of the colony, which

scarcely thirty years since was a mere unknown waste, is not the least

marvellous of the many marvels that have been worked by gold. In the

year 1851 the population of the province was 77,345 persons, of whom

28,143 were located in Melbourne. In 1860, it had already increased to

462,000, and probably the next few years will find it augmented to a

million, while Melbourne already rivals our larger cities in size and

wealth.

The wonderful discoveries in California and Australia having made gold

the all-absorbing topic of the day, it is not surprising that new

Eldorados were now eagerly sought for wherever the geological formation

of a country held out the hope of similar treasures.

Fresh and highly-productive gold-fields have, within the last few years,

been opened in British Columbia, and, still further to the north, in the

Arctic wilds of the infant colony of Stikeen. Numerous diggers are at

work in New Zealand, and in the deserts to the north of the Cape. A

system of auriferous veins has been discovered in North Wales; the

county of Sutherland, the Ultima Thule of our isle, claims to be ranked

among the gold-producing regions; and numerous adventurers are on their

way to the frozen deserts of Lapland, where the glittering metal is said

to abound in the basin of the Ivalo.

At no former period of the world’s history has gold been so eagerly

sought for over such extensive areas in all parts of the globe; never

have larger quantities of the precious metal been added to the

accumulated hoards of ages. No doubt this vast influx of wealth has in

many cases been productive of evil consequences; but its beneficial

influence upon the progress and happiness of mankind far outweighs the

injury it may too frequently have caused by rousing the worst passions

of our nature. An astonishing impetus has already been given to commerce

and industry; competence and wealth have been diffused over many lands;

deserts have been transformed into growing empires; and a vast

continent, long despised as the convict’s prison, has been raised in the

social scale to a height almost commensurate with its geographical

importance.

The mineral formations in which gold originally occurs are the

crystalline primitive rocks, the compact transition rocks, and the

trachytic and trap rocks, which, by their disintegration have, in the

course of ages, enriched large alluvial tracts with particles of the

precious metal. Torrents and rivers washed them down from the heights,

along with the worthless rubbish of their original matrix, and finally

deposited them in the gulleys and ravines of the lower grounds. Hence

the alluvial territories have always been the chief sources of

auriferous wealth, and this circumstance explains how countries which at

one time abounded in gold have long since ceased to be of importance.

For the comparative ease with which the metal could generally be

obtained by digging and washing, and the greed which stimulated the

researches of thousands, could not fail to exhaust even the richest

placers. No one now dreams of searching for gold in the sands of the

Pactolus or of the Golden Tagus; no modern Argonaut sails to Colchis in

quest of the golden fleece; the fields of Bohemia are no longer

ransacked by gold-seekers; and a like fate probably awaits many of our

modern Eldorados.

A marked difference between the gold deposits of Australia and

California deserves to be noticed. The gold of California is found in

the midst of, or contiguous to, the existing great mountain ranges,

amidst regions of peaked, jagged, irregular crests, and upheaved and

distorted strata, the undoubted effects of internal convulsions. It has

not, however, selected as its resting-place the smooth levels and

hanging slopes of the contiguous hills. The metal, ground finer and

finer as it is carried forward by the torrents that year after year tear

up the river-beds, finally settles in the form of fine flakes or dust

along the banks and at the bottoms of the great streams of the country.

Hence the Californian diggers generally find the drifts of the precious

metal in the strata immediately under the surface, either associated

with the subsoil, or in the holes or ‘pockets’ of water-worn rocks.

In Victoria the most prolific gold-fields are in regions where the old

formations are pierced by igneous rocks which have flowed from extinct

volcanoes; and some of the richest alluvial deposits have been found on

the pipe-clay bottom of flat, wide-spread plains, or settled in great

subterranean gutters, under broad, elongated slopes, which the miner can

reach only by sinking his shaft through stratum after stratum, from

fifty to three hundred feet down, before he reaches the buried treasure.

The inference necessarily is that much of the gold-drift of Australia is

of an earlier origin than the deposits of California, which are the

products of the existing mountain ranges, and therefore will be

exhausted in a comparatively brief period.

In Victoria, not seldom three distinct auriferous deposits, the result

of successive upheavals and depressions, occur in the same locality; and

the miner finds, in the course of his working, a first, second, and

third bottom, the last being always on the solid and unmoved palæozoic

rock, from which all the gold has been derived.

Rich as the auriferous drifts of the deep alluvial deposits are

frequently found to be, they must be within definite limits, having been

deposited by currents and the continuous action of waves not far from

the localities where the gold was originally formed. But the alluvial

gold of Victoria and New South Wales is not confined to drifts and

gutters. There are hundreds, probably thousands, of square miles, where

the clay, earth, and sand are impregnated with gold in sufficient

quantities to pay well for washing. Besides these deposits of

incalculable wealth, there are vast reserves of gold locked up in the

great mountain ranges both of Victoria and New South Wales, the hidden

wealth of which will eventually be brought to light by systematic

mining.

As even the richest auriferous drift would be comparatively worthless

without the assistance of water, the diversion of a running stream

through a ‘placer’ is often one of the most laborious undertakings of

the gold-digger.

Pliny speaks of ‘the bringing of the rivers from the mountains, in many

instances for a hundred miles, for the purpose of washing the _débris_,’

and this method of hydraulic mining is now carried on in California on a

stupendous scale. Thus, north of Mariposa County, the thick deposits,

often semi-indurated, are now washed down by vast streams of water

(thrown by the pressure of a column of water of 150 feet), that do the

work of running off the earth and gravel and gathering the gold in an

incredibly short time.

The ores of auriferous quartz are treated in a different way from the

alluvial _débris_. After having been crushed and pulverised by powerful

machinery, the finely powdered quartz is then treated with mercury, a

method well known to the ancients. This metal dissolves out the gold,

producing an amalgam, which, by straining and distillation, yields the

gold.

CHAPTER XXV.

SILVER.

Its ancient Discovery—Its uses among the luxurious Romans—The Mines of

Laurium—Silver Mines of Bohemia, Saxony, and Hungary—Colossal Nuggets—

Silver Ores—Silver Production of Europe—Mexican Silver Mines—The Veta

Madre of Guanaxuato—The Conde de la Valenciana—Zacatecas and Catorce—

Adventures of a Steam-engine—La Bolsa de Dios Padre—The Conde de la

Regla—Ill-fated English Companies—Indian Carriers—The Dressing of

Silver Ores—Amalgamating Process—Enormous Production of Mexican Mines—

Potosi—Cerro de Pasco—Gualgayoc—The Mine of Salcedo—Hostility of the

Indians—The Monk’s Rosary—Chilian Mines—The Comstock Lode.

Like that of gold, the first discovery of silver precedes the historic

times, and must no doubt be sought for in the remotest antiquity; for as

it is not seldom found in a native state, its brilliancy could not fail

to attract attention at a very early age. Veins of silver ore, moreover,

not seldom crop out on the surface, a circumstance which likewise

greatly facilitated the accidental discovery of the metal. Thus Diodorus

relates that streams of melted silver flowed out of the calcined soil

where some shepherds had set fire to a forest in the Pyrenees. The

cunning Phœnician merchants, who were trading in the neighbourhood,

bought the metal for a trifle from the natives, who, ignorant of its

value, gladly exchanged it for some worthless trinkets.

Our earliest annals show us silver in common use among the more polished

nations of antiquity, both for ornamental purposes and as a means of

exchange. When we read in the Bible that Abraham weighed to Ephron the

Hittite ‘four hundred shekels of silver, _current money_ with the

merchant’ for the purchase of the field of Machpelah, where Sarah was

buried, we cannot possibly doubt that, long before the patriarch’s time,

great quantities of silver must have circulated among the traders of the

East, and that even then it belonged to the discoveries of ancient days.

Homer describes the shields and helmets of his heroes as inlaid with

silver, and in Northern Asia silver ornaments have been found in the

tumuli of the Tschudi, a mysterious people who have left no vestiges of

their existence save their tombs.

The Babylonian, Assyrian, and Persian monarchs imposed large tributes of

silver on the conquered nations of Asia, and at a later period the

treasures thus amassed by a long line of despots came into the

possession of Alexander the Great, and finally of the Romans, who

absorbed all the riches of Carthage and the East. In the reign of

Augustus, the tables of the wealthy senators groaned under silver dishes

weighing from one hundred to five hundred pounds; silver statues of

their ancestors decorated their apartments, and they not seldom

performed their luxurious ablutions in baths of silver. Mirrors of this

metal were in frequent use among a people to whom the art of applying a

lustrous amalgam to the back of a plate of glass was unknown.

The skill of the artist not seldom added an inestimable value to the

intrinsic worth of an embossed or chiselled silver vase, and Pliny

mentions several works of this kind which enjoyed a world-wide

celebrity.

The most ancient silver mines of which we have any historical account

were situated in the mountainous parts of Chaldæa and in Spain. With the

development of the Grecian States, Eastern Europe also began to furnish

its contingent. Silver mines were discovered and worked in the Pangæan

Mountains, between Macedonia and Thrace, in the islands of Siphnos and

Cyprus. Athens derived a considerable part of its revenue from the mines

of Laurium in Attica. At first the profits derived from this source were

distributed among the citizens, until Themistocles persuaded the general

assembly of the people to devote them to the construction of ships of

war. The battle of Salamis was won by the galleys built with the money

thus obtained, so that the silver mines of Laurium have been the means

of adding some of its brightest pages to the history of Ancient Greece.

After the fall of the Roman Empire, the exhausted or neglected mines of

the East, and of the Iberian peninsula, ceased to be the sources from

which silver flowed over the world.

The riches amassed during ages of civilisation were now scattered among

barbarous hordes, or buried in the ruins of cities destroyed by fire;

and as no new influx replaced the losses caused by accident or the slow

wear of time, the precious metals gradually became more rare and of

increasing value, until Germany began to open a new era in mining

history, and for a time to take the lead among the silver-producing

countries of the globe. The first discovery of this metal in Bohemia

dates back as far as the seventh century; and in the tenth the

Rammelsberg in the Hartz Mountains began to yield its still unexhausted

treasures. In the twelfth century the silver mines of Saxony and Hungary

were discovered, and at a much later period those of Kongsberg in

Norway.

Many of these deposits are remarkable for the richness of their ores,

and for the large masses of native or crystallised silver which they

have sometimes yielded. From the mine of Himmelsfürst, near Freiberg in

Saxony, lumps or nuggets weighing above a hundred pounds have more than

once been extracted. The largest single block ever known was discovered

at Schneeberg, in the Saxon Erzgebirge, in the year 1477. It consisted

of silver-glance and native silver, and measured no less than seven

yards in length and three and a half in width. On hearing of this

magnificent prize, Duke Albrecht of Saxony visited the mine, where he

eat his dinner from the block. Agricola Bermannus relates that, during

the repast, he exclaimed, ‘Frederick is a wealthy and powerful emperor,

but he has never dined from a table such as this.’ The subsequent

smelting of this wonderful mass produced 40,000 pounds of solid silver.

Large nuggets of solid silver have likewise been found at Kongsberg. A

block weighing 560 pounds, which was discovered in 1666, is still

preserved as a curiosity in the Copenhagen Museum; and as a convincing

proof that the ancient riches of these northern mines are not yet

exhausted, a still larger block, weighing 750 pounds, was disinterred as

late as the year 1834.

Though native silver is found in many localities, our chief supply of

the precious metal is derived from the ores in which it is found

combined with other substances, such as silver-glance (sulphuret of

silver); antimonial silver; red-silver (sulphuret of silver and

antimony); horn silver (chloride of silver), &c. A considerable quantity

is likewise obtained as an accessory product from the lead mines, by

separating it from the galena or lead-glance, which usually contains a

small percentage of silver.

At present the mines of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, which in the year

1851 produced 122,950 marks of silver, are the richest in Europe. In

Bohemia the mines of Birkenberg, near Przibram, yield on an average

40,000 marks a year, considerably more than the celebrated mine of

Schemnitz in Hungary, which in the year 1854 produced 26,064 marks.

Prussia obtains from her mines in the Hartz Mountains in Nassau and the

county of Mansfeld about 100,000 marks; and the kingdom of Saxony,

which, in proportion to its small extent, holds the first rank among the

silver-producing countries of Europe, produces annually about 53,000

marks. In Great Britain, silver is accessorily obtained from the lead

mines, to an amount of about 80,000 marks per annum. France produces

26,800 marks, Sweden and Norway 6,000 marks, and Italy 4,500; while

Spain, which in ancient times enriched Tyre and Carthage with the rich

produce of her silver mines, yields at present but an insignificant

quantity.

On adding together the various sums above mentioned, we find that,

exclusively of the Russian Empire, which obtains the greater part of its

silver (about 65,000 marks a year) from the Altai Mountains in Siberia,

the whole annual production of Europe may be estimated at about 400,000

marks.

This quantity, large as it is, sinks into comparative insignificance

when compared with the enormous masses of silver with which, ever since

their discovery and conquest by Cortez and Pizarro, Mexico and Peru have

enriched the world.

The Mexican silver mines, which deserve a particular notice from the

immensity of their produce and the interesting details with which their

history abounds, are mostly situated on the back or on the western

slopes of the Cordillera of Anahuac at elevations which sometimes

approach the line of perpetual snow. But little is known of their first

history. The lodes of Tasco and Pachuca appear to have been worked soon

after the conquest, and in 1548, twenty-eight years after the death of

Montezuma, the mines of Zacatecas were opened, though situated above 400

miles from the capital. Muleteers travelling from Mexico to Zacatecas

are said to have discovered the silver mines of Guanaxuato.

Many of my readers will no doubt be surprised to hear that the Mexican

silver ores are generally poor. On an average they contain only from

three to four ounces of silver per cwt., much less than the ores of

Annaberg, Marienberg, and other districts of Saxony. Their comparative

poverty is, however, amply redeemed by their abundance and the facility

with which they are worked.

After these preliminary remarks I will now briefly describe the chief

Mexican silver mines. The Sierra de Santa Rosa, a group of porphyritic

hills, rises in the centre of the province of Guanaxuato. Partly arid

and partly covered with the evergreen oak, it attains an absolute height

of from 8,000 to 9,000 feet; but, as the neighbouring plain is nearly

6,000 feet above the sea, it hardly attracts the notice of the traveller

accustomed to the vast proportions of the Andes.

The southern slope of this porphyritic range is crossed by the famous

Veta Madre of Guanaxuato, the richest silver lode as yet discovered in

Mexico. This enormous vein, which traverses the country for upwards of

eight miles, with an average width of from 120 to 135 feet, is, however,

not productive throughout its whole extent, but the ore occurs in

branches and bunches, leaving intermediate spaces of dead and

unproductive ground. Among the numerous mines that have been opened

along its course, the Valenciana exhibited, at the beginning of the

present century, the almost unparalleled example of a mine which, during

a period of more than forty years, never yielded its proprietors less

than an annual income of from 80,000_l._ to 120,000_l._ The part of the

Veta in which it is situated had remained unexplored till 1760, when

Obregon, a young Spaniard, began to work it, with the assistance of some

friends who advanced him the necessary capital. In the year 1766 the

diggings had reached a depth of 240 feet, and the expenses were far

greater than the proceeds. But Obregon clung with the passionate ardour

of a gambler to the hazardous enterprise on which he had staked all his

hopes of fortune. In 1767 he entered into partnership with a small

shopkeeper, Otero, who was destined soon to share the fabulous riches

that were about to reward his perseverance. Already in the following

year the produce of the mine considerably increased, and in 1771 it

began to yield enormous masses of sulphuret of silver. From that time

till 1804, when Humboldt left Mexico, it never produced less than

560,000_l._ worth of silver annually, and the net profits of the

partners amounted in some years to 240,000_l._

Under the title of Conde de la Valenciana, Obregon maintained the simple

habits and the urbanity of character which had distinguished him in

poverty. When he began to work his mine, the goats were feeding on the

spot where ten years later a thriving town of 8,000 souls had started

into existence. Guanaxuato, the capital of the State of the same name,

is indebted to the neighbourhood of the richest silver mines in the

world for its origin and prosperity. Inclosed in a narrow valley, its

houses rise in terraces one above the other; and the contrast of the

magnificent abodes of the rich mining proprietors with the miserable

huts of their dependants adds to the singular appearance of the place.

The Mexican miner is, however, not so poor as his wretched dwelling

might lead us to suppose. In some measure he shares the fortunes of the

proprietors of the mines, as he is entitled to part of the ore; so that

when the vein is more than usually productive his weekly profits may

amount to as much as a hundred dollars. Yet he never thinks of

purchasing a piece of land, or of repairing his hut, when favoured by

fortune; but foolishly squanders his money in drinking and gambling, and

seldom returns to his work before his last farthing has been spent.

The population of Guanaxuato naturally fluctuates with the prosperity of

the mines. In 1806 and 1807, when they were in the highest state of

activity, it amounted to 90,000 souls; during the wars of independence

it sank to 20,000, but since then it has again risen to 60,000.

Next to the mines of Guanaxuato those of Zacatecas are distinguished by

their richness. They are likewise situated on the great central plateau

of the Cordillera in a wild mountain region whose forbidding aspect

forms a strange contrast to the riches concealed under its surface. In

1826 the United Mexican and the Bolaños Company undertook the working of

these mines; and two years after, the latter had the good fortune to

find an exceedingly rich vein, which up to the year 1834 produced no

less than 1,680,316 marks of silver.

Before 1770 the populous district of Alamos de Catorce in the State of

San Luis de Potosi, was still a complete desert. About this time a free

negro, named Milagros, who made a scant livelihood as an itinerant

musician, having lost his way, was obliged to pass the night in the

forest. On the following morning he found a few drops of silver on the

spot where he had made a fire, and, on a closer examination, discovered

the rich cropping out of a bed of argentiferous ores. He lost no time in

establishing the right of property which he derived from his discovery,

and opened the shaft Milagros, which, in a few years, made him a wealthy

man.

Soon after Don Barnabé de Zepeda discovered the chief vein of Catorce—

the Veta Madre—which continued to be worked with great success until the

revolution. This event having proved as destructive to the draining

machines of Catorce as to those of Guanaxuato and Zacatecas, a contract

was made with an English house for the furnishing of a steam-engine, the

first ever seen in Mexico. It was landed at Tampico in May 1822, but

arrived at Alamos six months later, as the carts which dragged the heavy

piece of machinery broke down every moment on the wretched roads which

lead to the central plateau on which the mines are situated. This,

however, was but the prelude of new difficulties; for as the

neighbouring forests could not furnish wood fit for the purpose, it was

necessary to order iron pump-tubes in England, which did not arrive

before 1826, so that the engine could not be set to work until four

years had passed after its arrival in Mexico. The history of Catorce

affords many remarkable examples of good fortune; but as most of the

rich _mineros_ (mine-proprietors) were men of low birth and without

education, they squandered their treasures as fast as they acquired

them. Medellin, the proprietor of the mine Dolores, once spent 36,000

dollars on a christening party; and at times, when the share of the

hewers amounted to one-third of the extracted ores, a common miner would

stake two or three thousand dollars on the issue of a cock-fight.

Among the first settlers at Catorce was an ecclesiastic named Flores,

who bought for 700 dollars a newly-opened mine, which received the

significant name of ‘La Bolsa de Dios Padre,’ or ‘God the Father’s

Money-Bag.’

Never was a small capital more profitably invested, for, at a depth of

about twenty yards, a deposit of such enormous richness was discovered

that in less than three years the profits of Padre Flores amounted to

three millions and a half of dollars.

The mines of Pachuca, Real del Monte, and Moran began to be worked soon

after the conquest. The Veta de la Biscayna, the chief vein of the

district, yielded immense profits from the sixteenth to the beginning of

the eighteenth century, when, in consequence of insufficient drainage,

the mines were drowned. An enterprising hidalgo, Don José Bustamente,

then began to drive a draining gallery, 7,000 feet long, which, however,

was only finished after his death by his partner, Don Pedro Terreros, a

merchant of Queretaro. Its immense cost was amply repaid, for Terreros

extracted no less than fifteen millions of dollars from the mine, and

was ennobled under the title of Conde de la Regla. His liberality was

worthy of his wealth, for besides a gift of two ships of the line—one of

them of 112 guns—to King Charles III. of Spain, he lent the court of

Madrid a million of dollars, which, it is almost superfluous to remark,

were never repaid. He built the enormous factories of La Regla at a cost

of more than 400,000_l_., and left his children a property rivalling

that of the Conde de la Valenciana. Since 1774, however, the profits of

the Biscayna, which was now worked 300 feet below the adit, began to

diminish; for though it still continued to yield enormous quantities of

ore, the water flowed in so abundantly that twenty-eight baritels,[44]

each requiring forty horses, and worked at an expense of 2,000_l._ per

week, was incapable of mastering it. At the death of the old Conde the

works were abandoned, until 1791, when his heirs once more set all the

baritels in motion; but the proceeds not covering the expenses, the

works were again abandoned.

Footnote 44:

A very primitive contrivance for raising the water in skin bags.

In the year 1824, when the frenzy of mining speculations was at its

height, a company was formed in London, with a capital of 400,000_l._,

for the purpose of working the mine of Tlalpujahua, in the State of

Mejoacan, which had long since been abandoned. Without any accurate

information, a number of supervisors and workmen were sent to the spot

in 1825, when they found all the mines under water. Yet, in spite of

this rather unpromising state of affairs, the company, not satisfied

with its first acquisitions, entered into new engagements, so that at

the end of 1825 it had contracted for no less than eighty mines, for

which it bound itself to pay the proprietors annuities amounting to more

than 50,000 dollars during the first three years. Operations were now

begun in many places at once, but every one of them ended in

disappointment; and in 1828 the company, after spending every farthing

of its capital, vanished into ‘airy nothing,’ abandoning the mines to

their original proprietors, and leaving the ill-fated shareholders to

mourn over their credulity and folly.

Subsequently another English company undertook the working of the mines

of Real del Monte, and after spending no less than 15,381,633 dollars,

against a produce of 10,481,475 dollars, was dissolved in 1848. Mr.

Buchan now undertook the management for a Mexican company, and almost

immediately struck the great Rosario vein, which opened a long career of

prosperity, and yielded a profit of a million of dollars in 1867. Every

fortnight a conducta, or escort, of one hundred and fifty armed men[45]

conveys the silver, in bars of seventy pounds, inclosed in an iron safe,

to the capital.

Footnote 45:

_Illustrated London News_, No. 1477, Saturday, April 11, 1868.

It would be vain to seek in the Mexican mines for the scientific

arrangement which is to be found in most of the English or German

subterranean workings. One of their chief faults consists in a want of

communication between their various parts, so that they resemble those

ill-arranged houses where, to go from one room to another, one is

obliged to traverse long and crooked passages. Hence the impossibility

of introducing in most of the mines an economical transport by means of

tramroads and waggons, and hence also the necessity of conveying the ore

to the surface by human labour. The native Indians, however, are

admirable carriers, for they will climb steep ladders, with 240 to 380

pounds, and perform this hard work for six hours consecutively. Their

muscular strength seemed truly astonishing to Humboldt, who, though

having no weight to carry but his own, felt himself utterly exhausted

after ascending from a deep mine.

Most of the Mexican silver is extracted from the ores by the process of

amalgamation. For this purpose the ore is first crushed either by

rollers, or, more generally, by stamps, called in Mexico _molinos_,

which in principle resemble those used in the tin mines of Cornwall, but

are not so powerful, and are worked either by water-power or by mules.

[Illustration: STAMPING MILL.]

The crushed ores are then conveyed to the _arrastres_, or grinding-

mills, which are usually arranged in rows in a large gallery or shed.

The ore, having been brought into a finely divided state, is next

allowed to run out of the arrastre into shallow tanks or reservoirs,

where it remains exposed to the sun until it has the appearance of thick

mud, and in this state the process is proceeded with. The _lama_, as it

is called, or slime, is now laid out on the _patio_, or amalgamation

floor (which is in some places boarded, and in others paved with flat

stones), in large masses called _tortas_, from forty to fifty feet in

diameter, and about a foot thick; and so extensive are the floors that a

large number of these tortas are seen in progress at the same time. When

the ore has been laid out in masses on the patio, the operations

necessary to produce the chemical changes commence. The first ingredient

introduced is salt, in the proportion of fifty pounds to every ton of

ore, and a number of mules are made to tread it, so that it may be

dissolved in the water and intimately blended with the mass. On the

following day another ingredient is introduced, called in Mexico

_magistral_. It is common copper-pyrites, or sulphide of copper and

iron, pulverised and calcined, which converts it into a sulphate. About

twenty-five pounds of this magistral are added for every ton of ore in

the torta, and the mules are again put in, and tread the mass for

several hours. Chemical action now commences, and new combinations

between the decomposed mineral substances are in progress. Quicksilver

is then introduced, being spread over the torta in very small particles,

which is effected by passing it through a coarse cloth. The quantity

required is six times the estimated weight of the silver contained in

the ore.

[Illustration: GRINDING MILL.]

The quicksilver being spread over the surface, the mules are once more

put in, and tread the whole until it is well mixed. Great skill is now

required to watch the progress of the amalgamation, and to decide

whether any one of the ingredients that have been added to the ore is in

deficiency or excess.

The amalgamating process being at length ended, the mass is washed in

large vats, through which streams of water are made to pass, so as to

drive away the lighter particles of the mud and to leave the heavy

amalgam at the bottom of the tub. After being strained through the

strong canvas bottom of a leathern bag, in order to separate the

superfluous mercury, the amalgam is finally heated in large retorts,

when the quicksilver is volatilised and the pure silver remains behind.

As a considerable quantity of mercury is thus lost, this metal has

always had a great influence on the working of the Mexican mines. When,

in times of war, the importation of quicksilver from Europe was stopped,

thus causing a considerable increase in its price, the ores accumulated

in the magazines, as their poverty made it impossible to meet the

additional expense; and then it not unfrequently happened that

proprietors, possessing ores to the amount of several millions of

dollars, were unable to pay their current expenses. In the last century,

the Mexican mines annually required sixteen thousand hundredweight of

mercury, which was furnished chiefly by the mines of Almaden,

Huancavelica, and Idria. The sale of mercury to the various mining

proprietors was a Government monopoly.

The quantity of silver produced by the Mexican mines in 110 years,

ending with the first year of the present century, amounted to about

ninety-eight millions of pounds troy, and the total value of the gold

and silver produced from 1689 to 1803 to about 285 millions of pounds

sterling.

The production was most abundant in the years 1805, 1806, and 1809, when

it reached the sum of twenty-six and twenty-seven millions of dollars.

It then fell enormously during the revolutionary wars; but the English

mining mania of 1824 having furnished the necessary capital for the re-

opening of a large number of mines, it again gradually rose, and even

reached during some years the rate of its most flourishing period. But

it never amounted to one-third of the value which is now annually

extracted from our coal mines; and while the latter open new and

unbounded sources of wealth by the activity they communicate to

numberless branches of industry, Mexico—a prey to bigotry, ignorance,

anarchy, and sloth—remains, in spite of her silver mines, as poor and as

barbarous as ever.

In South America, the mines of Potosi, Cerro di Pasco, and Gualgayoc,

are the most renowned for their richness. In 1545, an Indian, while

pursuing some deer along the declivity of a steep mountain, took hold of

a shrub, the roots of which, giving way, brought to view a mass of

silver, the first discovery of the riches which have rendered Potosi the

proverbial symbol of wealth. The Indian, wisely concealing his good

fortune, repeatedly visited the mine, but his improved circumstances

having been remarked by one of his countrymen, he was obliged to take

him into the secret. Unfortunately a quarrel ensued, and the faithless

confidant betrayed it to his master, Don José Villaroel, a Spaniard,

whose extraordinary success in working the mines soon drew the attention

of all America to the wild Cerro di Potosi. A town of 100,000

inhabitants soon rose in the desert, in spite of the wintry inclemency

of the climate (12,842 feet above the level of the sea) and of the

fabulous prices of provisions, as all the necessaries of life had to be

conveyed from a vast distance over the pathless mountains.

But if living in Potosi was extravagantly dear, Mammon took care to

provide his votaries with the necessary means; for the treasures which

were here extracted from the bosom of the earth seem rather to belong to

the world of Oriental romance than to that of sober reality. According

to Humboldt, the mountain of Potosi, whose topmost mine is situated

15,384 feet above the level of the sea—considerably higher than the

eternal snows of the summit of Mont Blanc—produced from 1545 to 1803 no

less than 230,000,000l., besides the silver which was not registered, or

had been carried off by fraud, and which may probably have amounted to

as much again. During the period of their greatest prosperity—from 1585

to 1606—when they annually yielded 882,000 marks of silver, 15,000

Indians were occupied in the mines of Potosi. At present, however, their

produce, though still considerable, has diminished to one-eighth, and

the population of the town has shrunk in the same proportion.

The ores were at first reduced in a very imperfect manner, according to

the old Indian method. On the mountains surrounding the town of Potosi,

wherever the wind blew with sufficient force, portable smelting ovens of

clay, in which numerous holes kept up a strong current of air, received

alternate layers of ore and charcoal, and the lively blast soon

separated the metal from the dross. The first travellers in the

Cordillera describe with enthusiasm the magnificent aspect of more than

6,000 fires, which every evening blazed on the mountain crests of

Potosi. Amalgamation was first introduced about the year 1571.

On the bleak Puna, or high table-land between the parallel chains of the

Cordillera and the Andes, is situated the famous mining town of Pasco.

Surrounded by a crescent of steep and naked rocks, its straggling

buildings extend over an uneven ground, bordered by small marshes and

lagunes. The shivering traveller, descending from the windy heights, is

at first agreeably surprised by the sight of a large town in the midst

of these dreary solitudes; but a nearer inspection of its narrow crooked

streets, and of its miserable huts, with here and there a stately

mansion, soon dissipates the fancies he may have formed at a distance.

The wild, forbidding aspect of the neighbourhood, and the rigorous

climate, only a short day’s journey from the loveliest valleys, prove

the greatness of the subterranean treasures which could induce so large

a population to settle in so harsh a region.

The mines of Pasco, like those of Potosi, were discovered, it is said,

by an Indian shepherd, who, accidentally lighting a fire where the ores

cropped out, found silver among the ashes. There are two chief lodes,

with numerous branches, so that the whole neighbourhood may be

considered as resting on a subterranean network of silver. The entrances

to most of the mines are situated in the town itself; and, as every

proprietor thinks only of his present profits, they are worked in so

slovenly a manner that they frequently fall in. Tschudi, who visited

some of the deepest of them, always thought himself extremely fortunate

when, after descending on half-rotten steps or by mouldering ropes and

rusty chains, he returned again to daylight without accident, and

mentions an instance where three hundred workmen were buried in the

ruins of a mine, in which the necessary props had been shamefully

neglected.

When a mine is very productive, it is said to be in ‘boya;’ and when

such periods of affluence take place in several of the mines at once,

the population of Pasco sometimes increases to double or treble the

usual number. The Peruvian miners are no less dishonest than their

fellow-workmen in Mexico, and equally cunning in robbing their

employers. On the other hand their patience and perseverance are

unrivalled. Satisfied with the coarsest food, and with a still more

miserable hut, they undergo an amount of bodily toil which no European

could endure. Their only solace is the chewing of Coca, the mysterious

plant to which they ascribe such wonderfully stimulating powers, and

which has at length begun to awaken the curiosity of European chemists

and naturalists.[46] When a ‘boya’ raises their earnings to a

considerable sum, they spend it in drunkenness, and never think of

returning to their work until their last farthing or their last credit

is exhausted. The mineros, or proprietors of the mines, are almost

equally uncivilised. Passionately devoted to gambling and mining

speculations, they are commonly deeply in debt to the capitalists of

Lima, who advance them money at the rate of 100 and 120 per cent.; and

when a ‘boya’ favours them, this sudden increase of wealth is merely the

prelude of new embarrassment.

Footnote 46:

The seventeenth chapter of ‘The Tropical World’ is devoted to the

Erythroxylon Coca.

According to law, all the produce of the silver mines should be sent to

the Callana or Government smelting-house; but in order to avoid the

heavy duties levied by the State, vast quantities are smuggled to the

coast. The annual produce registered at the Callana amounts to about

300,000 marks, but perhaps as much again is exported in a clandestine

manner. Besides the mines of Pasco, Peru possesses many others of

considerable value, situated chiefly in the provinces of Pataz,

Huamanchuco, Caxamarca, and Gualgayoc.

The famous Cerro de San Fernando de Gualgayoc, fourteen leagues from the

town of Caxamarca, is an isolated mountain traversed by numberless veins

of silver. Its summit is sharply serrated by a multitude of tower-like

or pyramidal pinnacles, and its steep sides are not only pierced by

several hundred galleries for the extraction of the ores, but also by

many natural openings or caverns, through which the dark blue sky is

visible to the spectator standing at the foot of the mountain. The

singularity of aspect is increased by the numberless huts, sticking like

nests to the slopes of the fortress-like mountain wherever a ledge

allowed them to be constructed. During the first thirty years after the

discovery of the mines from 1771 to 1802, they yielded considerably more

than thirty-two millions of dollars, and are still very productive.

One of the most celebrated silver mines of Peru was that of Salcedo,

renowned alike for its richness and for the tragical end of its

possessor. Don José Salcedo, a poor Spaniard who had settled in Puno,

fell in love with an Indian girl, whose mother, on condition of his

marrying her daughter, revealed to him the existence of a rich silver

lode. The fame of Salcedo’s wealth spread far and wide, and excited the

envy of Count Lemos, the viceroy, who sought to obtain possession of the

mine. As the good-natured and liberal Salcedo had become very popular

among the Indians, this circumstance was made use of by the rapacious

viceroy to accuse him of fomenting among the natives a spirit of

rebellion against the Spanish yoke. He was cast into a dungeon, and the

obsequious judges condemned him to death.

While in prison Salcedo begged the viceroy to submit the case to the

high court of justice at Madrid, and to allow him to appeal to the mercy

of the king. At the same time he offered, as an acknowledgment for this

favour, to give the viceroy daily a bar of silver, from the day the ship

left the port of Callao to its return from Europe. If we consider that

in those times a journey from Peru to Spain and back required at least

from twelve to sixteen months, we may form some idea of Salcedo’s

wealth. The viceroy, however, would not listen to the proposal, the very

brilliancy of which probably inflamed still more his cupidity, and he

ordered Salcedo to be hung. But his cruelty met with the disappointment

it deserved; for when it became known that nothing could save Salcedo,

his Indian friends destroyed the works of the mine, and so carefully

concealed the entrance that it has remained undiscovered to the present

day. After performing this work of retribution, the Indians dispersed,

and neither promises nor tortures could wring the secret from those that

were caught.

Though the mines of Peru have yielded and still yield vast quantities of

silver, yet probably only a few of the richest lodes are worked; for the

Indians, to whom other lodes are well known, will never reveal their

existence to the white men. They know by experience how small a benefit

they derive from the mines, which are to them but a source of severe

labour. Thus they prefer leaving the treasures of the earth undisturbed,

or use them only in cases of extreme necessity. In many provinces

undoubted proofs exist that the richest silver mines are secretly worked

by the Indians, but all efforts to discover them have proved fruitless.

A Franciscan monk at Huancayo, a desperate gambler and almost always in

want of money, had by his friendly manners gained the goodwill of the

Indians. One day, after a severe loss, he bitterly complained of his

distress to one of his Indian friends. After some hesitation the man

promised to assist him, and brought him on the following evening a bag

full of rich silver ores. This gift he repeated several times. But the

monk, greedy after more, begged the Indian to show him the mine—a

request which, after repeated refusals, was at length reluctantly

granted. On the appointed night, the Indian, with two of his comrades,

came to the Franciscan’s dwelling, took him on his shoulders, after

first carefully blindfolding him, and carried him, alternately with his

friends, a distance of several leagues into the mountains. Here they

halted, and the Franciscan’s bandage having been removed, he found

himself in a subterranean gallery, where the richest silver ores

sparkled from the walls. After feasting on the grateful sight and

filling his pockets, he was carried back again in the same way. On his

return he secretly loosened the string of his rosary, and let a bead

drop from time to time, hoping by this means to be able to find the

mine. But, on the following morning, as he was about to reconnoitre, his

Indian friend knocked at the door, and saying, ‘Father, thou hast lost

thy rosary!’ brought him a whole handful of the loose beads.

In 1850 the mines in the province of Copiapo in Chili yielded 335,000

marks of silver, nearly as much as the entire production of Europe, and

the State of Nevada in North America bids fair to rival the riches of

Peru. The ores are found on the eastern slopes of the Sierra Nevada, in

the region of the Carson River, and have since 1859 attracted a stream

of emigrants to the Washoe Mine. At the present time they annually

produce about 16,000,000 dollars of silver, chiefly from the Comstock

Lode, which may be ranked among the richest mineral deposits ever

encountered in the history of mining enterprise.

Thus we find veins and deposits of silver ore scattered throughout

almost the entire length of America; and no doubt many an unknown Potosi

still lies concealed in the lonely ravines or on the bleak sides of the

Andes, awaiting but some fortunate discoverer to astonish the world with

its treasures.

CHAPTER XXVI.

COPPER.

Its valuable Qualities—English Copper Mines—Their comparatively recent

Importance—Dreary Aspect of the Cornwall Copper Country—Botallack—

Submarine Copper Mines—A Blind Miner—Swansea—Smelting Process—The

Mines of Fahlun—Their Ancient Records—Alten Fjord—Drontheim—The Mines

of Rivaas—The Mines of Mansfeldt—Lake Superior—Mysterious Discoveries—

Burra Burra—Remarkable Instances of Good Fortune in Copper Mining.

Copper derives its name from the island of Cyprus, where it was

extensively mined and smelted by the Greeks; but its first discovery is

of much more ancient date, and loses itself in the darkness of the

prehistoric ages. Weapons and tools of bronze—its alloy with tin—have

been found both in the tumuli of extinct nations and in the lacustrine

dwellings of the Swiss lakes, erected by an unknown people in unknown

times. Among the Egyptians, the Greeks, and Etrurians, copper was in

immemorial use, and the ancient Celtic nations fought their battles with

copper or brazen swords, and felled the trees for the construction of

their rude hovels with axes of the same metal.

As in many parts of the world native copper is found scattered over the

surface of the earth in large lumps or masses, it naturally attracted

the attention of barbarous tribes much sooner than iron, which very

rarely occurs in the native state; and some fortunate chance or lucky

experiment having shown that, when rendered malleable by heat, it could

easily be hammered into any convenient shape, it soon became, and has

ever since remained, one of the most valuable metals. Forming important

compounds with tin (bronze) and zinc (brass), remarkably incorrodible as

compared with iron, and nearly as tenacious in structure, but not so

hard, it is recommended by its qualities for a variety of uses, and its

consumption everywhere increases with the progress of civilization and

the extension of commerce. Fortunately copper is of such common

occurrence that a mere enumeration of the localities where it is found

would swell into a long and tedious list; it is enough to state that

rich copper mines exist both in the Old World and the New, and promise

an inexhaustible supply to the most distant generations.

In Europe England is the chief copper-producing country. Rich mines have

been discovered and worked in Anglesey, Shropshire, Cheshire, and

Staffordshire, in the counties of Wicklow, Cork, and Waterford; but by

far the largest quantity is supplied by Cornwall and Devon.

‘The history of Cornish copper,’ says Mr. Warner, ‘is as a mushroom of

last night compared with that of tin. Lying deep below the surface of

the earth, it would be concealed from the inquiries of human industry

till such time as natural philosophy had made considerable progress, and

the mechanical arts had reached their present state of perfection; for

notwithstanding tin in Cornwall seldom runs deeper than fifty fathoms

below the surface, good copper is seldom found at a less depth than

that. Accordingly we do not find that any regular researches were made

for copper ores in Cornwall till the latter end of the fifteenth

century, when a few adventurers worked in an imperfect manner some

insignificant mines. Half a century afterwards, in the reign of

Elizabeth, though the product of the mines would naturally be greater

than before, yet little advantage seems to have been derived to the

country at large from the working of its copper. Writers hint at the

mystery made of its uses by the merchants. In the next reign, however,

all mystery was dispersed, the mines were inspected, their value

determined, and a system was introduced of working them to greater

advantage.’

Yet so wretched was the knowledge of mineralogy before 1712 that the

yellow copper ore, at present so highly valued, was considered of no

importance and cast aside as worthless rubbish. Since the reign of

George I. there has been so much improvement that, next to iron and

coal, copper is now the most important of our mineral products.

The chief Cornish copper mines are situated in the districts of

Camborne, Redruth, and Gwennap, which are about the dreariest of all

British wildernesses. Few trees are to be seen, few fields; furze and

wild berries form the chief vegetation of the niggard soil. Blocks upon

blocks of stone are scattered over these desolate moorlands, that have

been excavated, dug into hillocks, disturbed and turned over and over

again, sometimes by the primeval stream-works of the _old men_ or

ancient miners, sometimes by more modern labour in search of metallic

wealth. Off the roads these districts are utterly impervious on wheels

or on horseback, and the traveller can only walk, or rather flounder,

over them by jumping from patch to patch of firmer land. Yet this scene

of apparent poverty is in reality one of the very richest portions of

the kingdom, and conceals more wealth beneath its sterile surface than

has ever been produced by a similar extent of the fairest fields and

pastures.

[Illustration: THE BOTALLACK MINE, CORNWALL.]

The bluff promontory of Botallack, not far from Cape Cornwall, conceals

in its rocky entrails a copper mine, the most singularly placed,

probably, of any mine in the world, for nowhere do the triumphs of

industry appear in more picturesque connection with the magnificent

scenery of the ocean. The metalliferous veins running along the cliffs

into the sea vainly concealed themselves beneath the swelling surge; in

vain a huge barrier of rocks seemed to render them inaccessible to the

miner, as soon as it became known that here, buried under the ocean, lay

treasures that would amply repay the cost and labour expended, and the

danger encountered in seeking for them.

To those who stand below the cliff and look up from the sea, the view is

fearfully grand, and remarkable for the combination of the wonders of

art with the wonders of nature. The separate parts of an enormous steam-

engine had to be lowered 200 feet down the almost perpendicular

precipice, and a tram-road runs right up the face of the cliff. Lofty

chimneys, pouring out dense volumes of black smoke, are seen perched on

the verge and even on the ledges of a tremendous precipice, and the

miner has built his hut over the sea-bird’s roost. All these

constructions seem at the mercy of every storm, and to the beholder from

beneath they almost appear suspended in the air and tottering to their

fall.

On one side of the cliff tall ladders scale the rock; but he must have

strong nerves who can tread them fearlessly, the sea roaring under him

and flinging its raging spray after him as he ascends, while in other

parts mules and their riders may be seen trotting up and down the rocky

tracks which the pedestrian visitor would scarcely dare to pass. A

strange and restless life pervades a scene which nature seemed to have

for ever removed far from the busy haunts of man.

A visit to this remarkable mine leaves an ineradicable impression on the

mind. Descending ladder after ladder, and passing on from gallery to

gallery, stepping over rough stones and awkward holes, now stooping down

under masses of overhanging rock, and now climbing over stony

projections beneath your feet, you are at length informed that you are

vertically 120 feet below the sea-level, and horizontally 480 feet under

the bottom of the ocean or beyond low-water mark, while still deeper

down human beings are hewing the hard rock. The brine oozes through the

metallic ceiling, and the sound of distant waters falls faintly upon the

ear.

There are other submarine mines in the neighbourhood of Botallack. In

Little Bounds and Wheal Cock the hardihood of the miners tempted them to

follow the ore upwards, even to the sea; but the openings made were very

small, and, the rock being extremely hard, a covering of wood and cement

in the former, and a small plug in the latter mine, sufficed to exclude

the water, and protected the workmen from the fatal consequences of

their rashness. ‘In all these, and in Wheal Edward and Levant,’ says Mr.

Henwood,[47] ‘I have heard the dashing of the billows and the grating of

the shingle overhead even in calm weather. I was once, however,

underground in Wheal Cock during a storm. At the extremity of the

_level_ seaward, some eighty or one hundred fathoms from the shore,

little could be heard of its effects, except at intervals, when the

reflux of some unusually large wave projected a pebble outward, bounding

and rolling over the rocky bottom. But when standing beneath the base of

the cliff, and in that part of the mine where but nine feet of the rock

stood between us and the ocean, the heavy roll of the large boulders,

the ceaseless grinding of the pebbles, the fierce thundering of the

billows, with the crackling and boiling as they rebounded, placed a

tempest in its most appalling form too vividly before me ever to be

forgotten. More than once, doubting the protection of our working

shield, we retreated in affright, and it was only after repeated trials

that we had confidence to pursue our investigations.’

Footnote 47:

‘Transactions of the Royal Geological Society of Cornwall,’ vol. v. p.

11.

It seems that at times of great storms, even the miners, accustomed for

years to these submarine caverns, have been terrified by the roaring of

the sea. They have heard, as it were, mountain dashing against mountain,

or as if all the artillery of England was booming over their heads. Yet

their roof of rock, thin as it is in some parts, has hitherto shielded

them against the sea, and will no doubt continue to defend them against

it. On leaving these wonderful submarine excavations, the scenery of the

upper world appears doubly beautiful.

The ‘Traveller Underground’[48] tells us a remarkable story of a blind

man who once worked in Botallack, and continued his perilous toils

underground for a long period, from the dread of being compelled to

accept parish relief. By the fruits of his labour he supported a family

of nine children, and such was his marvellous recollection of every

turning and winding of the mine that he became a guide to his fellow-

labourers if by any accident their lights were extinguished. On being

discharged from this employment (and they must truly have had rocky

hearts who did discharge him), this poor blind man soon afterwards met

his death in a melancholy manner. Being engaged as attendant on some

brick-layers, who were building a house at St. Ives, he had to carry the

hods of mortar up to the scaffolding. Stepping too far back from a

platform, he fell, and died almost immediately.

Footnote 48:

‘Cornwall, its Mines and Miners.’ London, 1860.

The chief copper ores of Cornwall are the bisulphuret (containing nearly

equal parts of copper, sulphur, and iron), the sulphuret, or grey ore of

the miners (containing more than 79 per cent. of copper), and the black

ore, an almost pure oxide; but when extracted from the mine, these ores

are generally so mixed up with impurities that their average contents do

not amount to more than 2½ or 3½ per cent. They have consequently to

undergo various processes of picking, crushing, sorting, and washing,

before they are rendered saleable and fit for export to the smelting

works of Swansea, the grand emporium for copper. The reason why they are

not smelted on the spot is that the fuel needed is more bulky than the

ore, and it is cheaper to bring the copper of Cornwall to the coal of

South Wales than to take the coal to the copper. In Swansea—but half a

century ago a mere hamlet, and now a flourishing town of 36,000

inhabitants—we find all the conditions needed for the development of a

vast industry. Coal and water-power in inexhaustible abundance,

excellent roads and railroads, the nearness of the sea, canals which

allow vessels of considerable burden to load and unload close to the

smelting huts, so that their high masts rise alongside of the towering

chimneys—these are the natural and artificial advantages to which

Swansea owes its rank as the first copper manufacturing town in the

world.

For, not satisfied with the abundant ores of Great Britain, its smelting

works seek their materials in almost every copper-producing country of

the globe. The rich ores of Chili and Australia, of Cuba and North

America, of Norway and Tuscany, all find their way to Swansea, which re-

exports the metal to every part of the world.

Vivian’s works, the most important of the establishments of Swansea, are

situated in a vale a couple of miles from the town. A maritime canal

enables brigs to sail at high tide up to the smelting furnaces, whence a

second canal leads to the coal-pits, ascending the hill by a succession

of locks. Although in the building of this huge factory not a thought

was given to grace or beauty of form, utility being the sole aim in

view, still its vast extent leaves on the mind a certain impression of

grandeur.

The whole smelting process is carried on in reverberatory furnaces.[49]

In order to disengage the sulphur and other volatile impurities, the ore

is first roasted in at least sixteen of these powerful ovens, each of

which holds forty hundredweight, and performs its office in six hours.

The smoke of all these furnaces collects in a huge chimney, which, after

climbing the hill for about six hundred feet, ends in a mighty column

two hundred feet high. The roasted ores are then mixed with a certain

proportion of fluor spar, and smelted in twenty smaller reverberatory

furnaces. A ton is introduced at a time, and in each oven seven tons can

be smelted in twenty-four hours. It would lead me too far were I to

enter into more minute details. I will therefore briefly state that the

copper is still obliged to pass four times through differently

constructed furnaces before it is sufficiently pure to be rolled into

sheets or to be granulated, a condition in which it is used for the

fabrication of brass, as it then presents more surface to the action of

the zinc, and combines with it more readily. To produce this

granulation, the metal is poured into a large ladle pierced with holes,

and placed above a cistern filled with water, which must be hot or cold

according to the form of the grains required. When it is hot, round

grains are obtained, analogous to lead shot, and the copper in this

state is called _bean shot_. When the melted copper falls into cold

water perpetually renewed, the granulations are irregular, thin, and

ramified, constituting _feathered_ shot.

Footnote 49:

A reverberatory furnace is a furnace in which intense heat is produced

by a flame which, while passing through a furnace, _reverberates_ from

the roof over the substance to be fused, the draught being created by

means of a lofty chimney.

The process of preparing the copper does not present the bustle and

activity nor the glare and brilliancy of an ironwork. The smoke and

vapour disengaged from the ore are of the most noxious and disagreeable

kind, and impart to the whole neighbourhood a singularly gloomy

character. The stunted vegetation is so kept down by it that there are

no trees, and, instead of grass, a dry, yellow, sickly growth of

chamomile barely covers the ground. When viewed from a neighbouring

eminence at night, the livid glare from the chimneys, the rolling white

clouds of smoke which fill up the valley beneath, the desolate-looking

heaps of slag, and the pungent sulphurous vapours remind the spectator

of

‘The dismal situation, waste and wild,

The dungeon horrible on all sides round,’

where Satan lay weltering after his fall from heaven.

After England, Sweden, Germany, and Russia take the lead among the

copper-producing countries of Europe.

The mines of Fahlun in Dalecarlia are no less remarkable for their

picturesque appearance than the celebrated iron mines of Dannemora in

the same province. A vast pit, 1,200 feet long, 600 feet broad, and

above 180 feet deep, with precipitous, sometimes vertical, and

occasionally even overhanging walls, opens before the spectator, who

might fancy himself standing on the brink of an enormous crater. ‘The

aspect of this deep chasm,’ says Professor Haussmann,[50] ‘affords a

desolate picture of ruin caused by improvidence and waste, as it owes

its origin to the successive fallings in of subterranean excavations

carelessly widened and left without sufficient supports. From the vast

mounds of rubbish accumulated at the bottom of the pit, remnants of

ancient shafts, formed of thick beams of wood, are seen protruding, but

these show only a part of the devastation produced by the great falling

in which took place in the year 1678. On the northern side of the pit is

a broad and convenient wooden staircase, by which not only the miners,

but also the horses used for working the subterranean machinery, descend

to the bottom. Thence it gradually winds underground to a depth of 177

fathoms.’

Footnote 50:

‘Geological Travels through Sweden.’

As is generally the case in Sweden, the ore of Fahlun forms considerable

masses, the chief being a vast reniform lump 1,200 feet long and 600

broad at its upper surface, and gradually narrowing as it descends. Near

this gigantic _stock_ are situated similar deposits, which though of

smaller dimensions are still very considerable. From the copper pyrites

being deposited chiefly on the circumference or the outer shell of these

reniform masses, which are themselves of extremely irregular outline,

the mining operations are carried on with great difficulty, and exhibit

a perfect labyrinth of crooked and winding galleries, situated at

various depths, and supported by pillars or sometimes by walls—a

peculiarity which explains the successive fallings in that have formed

the enormous pit of Fahlun. The mine has been worked from time

immemorial, and is said to have been known even before the Christian

era. The oldest document extant bears the date of the year 1347, and

contains the privileges granted to the proprietors of the mine by King

Olaus Smek; but still more ancient documents are mentioned, among others

a purchase-deed of the year 1200. As the ores are poor, their abundance

alone renders the working of the mine profitable; but Fahlun has seen

its best days and is doomed to a gradual decline. During its greatest

prosperity it is said to have yielded 5,000 tons of copper annually, but

in 1866 it furnished no more that 600 tons, or about one-third of the

entire production of Sweden.

In 1719 a body, preserved from corruption by the vitriolic water with

which it had been saturated, was found in an abandoned part of the

Fahlun mines. When it had been brought up to the surface, the whole

neighbourhood flocked together to see it; but nobody could recognise a

lost friend or kinsman in its young and handsome features. At length an

old woman, more than 80 years of age, approached with tottering steps,

and casting a glance on the corpse, uttered a piercing shriek and fell

senseless on the ground. She had instantly recognised her affianced

lover, who had mysteriously disappeared more than sixty years

previously, but whose image she still bore in her faithful memory. As he

was not employed in the mines, no search had been made for him

underground at the time. Most probably he had fallen, by some accident,

into one of the numerous crevices by which the surface of the mines is

traversed. Thus the tottering woman, weighed down with the double burden

of infirmity and age, saw once more the face of her lover as she had

looked upon it in the days of her youth.

In the sister kingdom of Norway, which produces annually about 480 tons

of copper, the mines of the Alten Fjord are remarkable for their high

northern situation (in 70° N. Lat., beyond the Arctic Circle). A piece

of copper ore found by a Lap woman in 1825 fell accidentally into the

hands of Mr. Crowe, an English merchant in Hammerfest, who immediately

took measures for obtaining a privilege from Government for the working

of a mine. All preliminaries being arranged, he set off for London,

where he founded a company with a capital of 75,000_l._ When Marmier

visited the Alten Fjord in 1842, more than 1,100 workmen were employed

in these most northerly mining works of the world; but probably the

number has since decreased.

Although Drontheim or Tronyem is renowned in Norse history as the seat

of many kings, yet the town seems as if built but yesterday. Repeated

conflagrations have often reduced its wooden houses to ashes. The choir

of the ancient cathedral, the finest edifice ever built in so high a

latitude, is the only remaining memorial of old Tronyem; but the modern

city is remarkably clean and well built, and gives evidence, by its

outward appearance, of the prosperity of its citizens, which is partly

owing to the fish-trade and partly to the neighbouring copper-mines of

Röraas. The tall chimneys of the smelting huts and other manufactories

founded on the mineral riches of the country show that the spirit of

trade is perfectly awake in the old capital of Saint Olaus, and that the

abode of the ancient sea-kings is none the worse for having abandoned

piracy for the more homely pursuits of modern commerce. The copper ores,

which were first discovered in 1644, occur in the Röraas Mountains in

extensive veins. The entrance, which resembles the mouth of a cave and

leads into the mine by a gradual descent, is so broad that carts laden

with ore and drawn by horses can freely pass in and out. When Professor

Haussmann, of Göttingen, visited the mine, long stalactites of ice hung

from the roof of the entrance and covered its rugged walls with crystal

drapery. The lights of the numerous workmen who opened the march made

the ice glitter with all the colours of the rainbow, and then, as they

went onward, illuminated the broad galleries, propped by mighty pillars,

and branching into gloomy recesses. At length they halted, and all at

once, on a given signal, the brilliant illumination was changed into the

deepest darkness. A deathlike stillness now reigned in the vault, when

suddenly a flash of lightning blazed through the gloom, a loud clap of

thunder instantly followed, and, with crash on crash, the explosions of

many charges of blasting powder shook the walls of the neighbouring

galleries. After the last shot was fired, the torches were relit, and

joyously exchanging the usual salutation of German miners: ‘Glück

auf!’[51] the company moved on. ‘I cannot find words,’ says the

Professor, in whose honour the impressive scene had been arranged, ‘to

express the pleasure I felt at this cordial reception given me in the

high north by men unknown to me a few days since. It confirmed the

experience I had already so often made before, that probably no

profession so soon produces a friendly and intimate connexion between

strangers as that of the miner.’

Footnote 51:

‘Good luck upwards!’ or ‘A happy return to daylight.’

The copper production of Germany is about equal in amount to that of the

Scandinavian kingdoms. The Rammelsberg,[B] near Goslar in the Hartz,

which has been worked ever since the year 968, is probably the oldest

mine in Europe. The famous copper mines of the county of Mansfeldt in

Prussia afford a striking example of the success obtainable in mining

operations by perseverance and a wise economy. The whole thickness of

the cupriferous bed of bituminous shale is no more than from eight to

sixteen inches; but as the ore, though poor, contains a small quantity

of silver, this circumstance, assisted by good management and the

application of science, has not only rendered it possible to work the

mines for many centuries, but to render them so flourishing that in 1852

they produced 1,350 tons of copper and 31,800 marks of silver, leaving a

net profit of more than 20,000_l._ The hewers are obliged to perform

their labour in galleries not more than twenty-two or twenty-eight

inches high, the narrowest limits within which a man can possibly move

and work. The boys who transport the ore slide or creep with a truly

wonderful rapidity along the floor, dragging after them, by means of a

sling attached to their foot, a waggon loaded with as much as five

hundredweight of ore. The hewer’s wages for seven hours of this hard

work are no more than two shillings; yet the miners look very healthy

and cheerful, a remarkable proof of the wonderful effects of habit.

The vast empire of Russia produces about 5,000 tons of copper annually,

chiefly from the mines of the Ural, belonging to Prince Demidoff; but a

large proportion is furnished by the Asiatic mines of the Altaï and of

Nertschinsk in Transbaikalia. New deposits have lately been discovered

in the land of the Kirghise, near the Irtysch; and, as the ores are

exceedingly rich, and coal is found near them, they will, no doubt,

become valuable in time.

During the last twenty years America has far exceeded Europe in the

production of copper. The inexhaustible mines of Chili extend along the

whole coast of the republic, and are generally situated within a

convenient distance from the sea and near the best ports of the Pacific,

such as Caldera, Coquimbo, and Valparaiso. Originally the ores were all

sent to Europe to be smelted; but since 1865 the discovery of coal near

various parts of the coast has encouraged the establishment of numerous

smelting furnaces, so that Chili now exports no less than from 40,000 to

45,000 tons of metallic copper, besides furnishing large quantities of

ore to the smelting works of Swansea.

After Chili no country has made such rapid strides in copper-mining as

the United States. The primeval forests of Northern Michigan and

Wisconsin would probably still be the undisputed domain of the Indian

hunter if the mineral treasures of the soil had not been a prize too

valuable to escape the notice of our wealth-seeking age. Soon after the

first settlement of the French in Canada some bold adventurers had

indeed penetrated as far as the distant shores of Lake Superior, and

given wonderful accounts of the large masses of copper which they had

seen scattered over the country; but the want of all means of

communication hindered for a long time the advance of the miner.

The Chippeways, who for centuries had occupied the banks of the lake,

where, like all other Indian tribes, they spent their time in hunting

and fishing, never thought of availing themselves of the mineral riches

of their territory. They indeed picked up now and then some pieces of

copper, and sold them as curiosities to the fur-dealers with whom they

traded; but they were still far too uncivilized to seek in the

neighbouring hills for deposits of the valuable metal. Their traditions

give no account of their first settlement in the country; they believed

themselves to be aboriginals. Thus, when at length the land came to be

geologically surveyed, the discovery of extensive prehistoric mining

works created no small astonishment. These relics of an unknown people,

whose existence and disappearance is one of the most interesting enigmas

of ancient American history, are chiefly situated on the hill-crests of

Isle Royale and in the Ontanagon district, where they may be traced for

miles. Trees, many hundred years old, now grow in the hollows

laboriously excavated by that extinct race in the hard rock with tools

of stone or copper. Shafts, twenty or thirty feet deep, sunk in the

hardest greenstone, have been discovered after felling the trees and

removing the rubbish which, in the course of time, had been accumulated

in the cavities. In many the old tools were found which served to

excavate them—stone hammers of various sizes, or chisels of artificially

hardened copper. On the hill behind the Minnesota Pit a mass of copper

several tons in weight was found placed on wooden rollers, which proved

that those unknown miners must have possessed a considerable mechanical

knowledge, without which it would have been impossible to remove such

heavy masses. In some galleries copper blocks were discovered from which

pieces had been chiselled off, and the whole of the works gave proofs of

a skill and persevering industry quite foreign to the unsettled habits

of the wild and indolent race of hunters which, as far as memory

reached, had occupied these distant regions.

Although the expeditions of General Cass in 1819 and of Major Long in

1823 had drawn public attention to the copper of Lake Superior, still

twenty years more passed before they became the object of mining

speculations, which at once rose to a feverish height. Numerous

companies were started in 1843, and mines were opened in many hundred

places at once. The natural consequence of this copper mania was

disappointment in most cases, and in 1847 the greater number of the

mines, which had been opened with the most extravagant expectations,

were abandoned. A few companies only withstood the crisis, and

ultimately proved so remarkably successful as fully to retrieve the lost

credit of the copper country, the annual yield of which at the present

time is about 10,000 tons, and consequently nearly equals that of

Cornwall.

The copper occurs in the native state in veins intersecting the trap and

sandstone, but also in scattered superficial masses along the chain of

hills which extends from the western to the north-eastern extremity of

Lake Superior. In no known locality have such large masses of copper

been found. An enormous block was discovered in February 1857 in the

Minnesota mine. It was forty-five feet in length, twenty-two feet at the

greatest width, and the thickest part was more than eight feet. It

contained over ninety per cent. of copper, and weighed about 420 tons. A

still more prodigious mass, sixty-five feet long, thirty-two feet broad,

and four feet thick, was found in 1869. This king of copper nuggets

weighed no less than 1,000 tons, and was worth 80,000_l._, or more than

the greatest lump of gold that ever came to light in Australia or

California.

Rich copper mines have likewise been discovered in the States of

Maryland, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, and New York, but chiefly in

California, where since 1861 the small town of Copperopolis[52] has

risen into importance. More than 30,000 tons of Californian copper ores

(chiefly sulphurets) are now annually exported to the smelting-houses of

the bay of Boston, which are likewise supplied by the ores of Chili and

Canada, and form a new Swansea on the opposite shore of the Atlantic.

The whole annual production of the United States at present exceeds

20,000 tons of metallic copper, mostly consumed in the country.

Footnote 52:

This hybrid name, a vile compound of English and Greek, is enough to

excite the wrath of a philologist.

The mines of Cuba, which were very important, have latterly fallen off;

but in 1866 the exportation to Swansea still amounted to 11,254 tons of

ore.

Among the rich copper countries of the world I have finally to mention

South Australia, New South Wales, and Victoria. The most extraordinary

copper mine of modern times for produce is that of Burra-Burra in South

Australia. It was started in September 1845, with a capital of

12,000_l._, subscribed by a few merchants and traders of Adelaide, and

in the following five years yielded no less than 56,428 tons of ore,

worth 738,108_l._ The gold discoveries momentarily put a stop to its

prosperity; but of late years the works have been resumed, and other

rich mines have been opened, so that copper will long remain one of the

staple productions of Australia.

The history of some of our copper mines affords examples of good fortune

no less remarkable than those which we find mentioned in the annals of

the Mexican silver-mining.

Tresavean Copper Mine, within a walk of Redruth, had once or twice been

abandoned as a failure. At length it was taken up by parties who

persevered in exploring it, and succeeded in discovering its wealth by

an outlay of little more than 1,000_l._ From 1838 to 1843 the profits

averaged 30,693_l._ per annum, and in 1833 630_l._ were divided per

share, or in all 60,480_l._ upon ninety-nine shares, each share having

about 20_l._ paid up, so that in one year the profits surpassed more

than thirty times the capital invested.

Old Crinnis Copper Mine, near St. Austell, was in 1808 abandoned, after

repeated failures, and declared by the best miners of the day to be not

worth ‘a pipe of tobacco.’ In 1809 Mr. Joshua Rowe, of Torpoint, and

some co-adventurers, notwithstanding the general contempt for the mine,

began working it again. As it still remained poor, the adventurers

dropped off one by one, leaving the entire cost of working upon Mr.

Rowe, who, after laying out a few additional hundreds, was rewarded by

the discovery of a rich mass of ore at about ten fathoms from the

surface. Upon this becoming known, the old adventurers again claimed

their shares; but Mr. Rowe resisted their unjust pretentions and won his

lawsuit. In the short space of four years and a half, this mine made a

clear profit of 168,000_l._, besides paying 20,000_l._ for law expenses.

Another instance of remarkable success is afforded by the Devon Great

Consols Mines, which were opened in the year 1844. The capital of the

company which undertook their working was parted into 1,024 shares, with

1_l._ paid on each share. In the same year by November a rich copper

lode was cut, and the profits paid working expenses without call. The

lodes soon began to turn out so rich that in the six years between the

dates of 1844 and of 1850 the company extracted and sold copper ores to

the amount of 600,000_l._ After paying all expenses, the shareholders

received about 207,000_l._, or more than 200_l._ per share on 1_l._

paid. No more was called, and thus an average annual dividend of 35_l._,

equivalent to 3,500 per cent., fell to the lot of each share.

Such instances, however, of good fortune are very rare, for mining in

Cornwall, as elsewhere, is much more frequently attended with

disappointment and loss. Sometimes an apparently rich produce is

absorbed by still greater expenses, or veins very promising when first

opened fall off below, and occasion immense loss to the adventurers. A

sudden fall in the price of the metal is alone sufficient to render many

of the poorer mines perfectly worthless for a long time.[53] Hence

nothing can be more hazardous than to invest capital in a mining

concern; and if Shakespeare had foreseen the delusions of modern

speculations in concerns of this kind, he could not more truly have

characterised them than by saying—

‘The earth hath bubbles as the water hath,

And these are of them.’

Footnote 53:

Since the discovery of the rich North American and Chilian mines the

price of copper has fallen about 30 per cent. The consequence has been

a great diminution of our copper production. Thus Cornwall and

Devonshire, which in 1856 yielded 206,177 tons of copper ore, worth

1,241,835_l._, saw their produce gradually diminish from that time,

and in 1865 furnished no more than 159,409 tons, worth only

753,427_l._ In 1856 the mean average price of copper was 123_l._ per

ton; in 1865 it was no more than 94_l._ 7_s._

Yet the hope of suddenly getting rich, and the very risks and daring

attending all mining undertakings, have an almost magical attraction;

and, in spite of numberless instances of loss or ruin, there will

probably never be a want of speculators willing to embark their fortunes

on this unstable foundation.

CHAPTER XXVII.

TIN.

Tin known from the most remote antiquity—Phœnician Traders—The

Cassiterides—Diodorus Siculus—His Account of the Cornish Tin Trade—The

Age of Bronze—Valuable Qualities of Tin—Tin Countries—Cornish Tin

Lodes—Tin Streams—Wheal Vor—A Subterranean Blacksmith—Huel Wherry, a

Tin Mine under the Sea—Carclaze Tin Mine—Dressing of Tin Ores—

Smelting—The Cornish Miner.

Tin is one of the metals most anciently known to man. Its first

discovery is hidden, like that of silver, gold, copper, and iron, in

complete obscurity, for even the names of the nations which first made

use of it are not known. Axes and lances, sickles and fishhooks of

bronze—the well-known alloy of copper and tin—occur among the ruins of

the ancient lacustrine habitations of Switzerland, and the tin of these

bronze utensils could only be obtained by commerce from countries far

remote, where it must, doubtless, have been known for many ages, before

it found its way into the heart of Central Europe. Thus a few bronze

implements picked up among other rubbish in the muddy bed of an

Helvetian lake open a long vista into the obscure history of primitive

man.

On turning from Europe to the East we find other proofs that tin has

been known from the most remote antiquity. It is mentioned in the Book

of Numbers (xxxi. 22) among the spoil which the children of Israel

gained by their victory over the Midianites; and Ezekiel, in his

prophetic warning to the Tyrians, enumerates tin as forming part of

their riches.

[Illustration: ST. MICHAEL’S MOUNT, CORNWALL.]

It is frequently noticed by Homer as a substance used for architectural

ornaments or for the embellishment of the armour of his heroes, and its

Greek name ‘Kassiteros,’ which evidently represents the Sanscrit

‘Kastira,’ leaves no doubt as to the part of the world from which it was

first obtained. The tin which, in times unrecorded by chronology, served

for the consumption of Western Asia, Egypt, and Greece, was supplied by

the mines of India to the Phœnician traders, who conveyed it, either by

land to Babylon, or by water to the ports of the Red Sea. At a much

later period that great merchant people extended their maritime

expeditions to the West, and sailing along the Atlantic coast of Gaul,

ultimately discovered Cornwall, which afforded them a new and

inexhaustible supply of tin. With the jealous spirit of trade, they long

made a profound secret of its position; but about 450 years before

Christ, Herodotus speaks of the Cassiterides, or tin islands, which some

have supposed to be Britain. Four centuries later Diodorus Siculus, who

lived in the times of Julius Cæsar and Augustus, gives us an interesting

account of the ancient tin trade of Britain. ‘The inhabitants of that

extremity of Britain which is called Bolerion’ (probably Land’s End),

says the historian whose narrative is the more deserving of attention as

we are told that he visited all the places he mentions: ‘both excel in

hospitality and also, by reason of their intercourse with foreign

merchants, they are civilized in their mode of life. These prepare the

tin, working very skilfully the earth which produces it. The ground is

rocky, but it has in it earthy veins, the produce of which is brought

down and melted and purified. Then, when they have cast it into the form

of cubes, they carry it to a certain island adjoining to Britain and

called Iktis (probably St. Michael’s Mount). During the recess of the

tide the intervening space is left dry, and they carry over abundance of

tin to this place on their carts; and it is something peculiar that

happens to the islands in these parts lying between Europe and Britain,

for at full tide, the intervening passage being overflowed, they appear

islands, but when the sea returns a large space is left dry and they are

seen as peninsulas. From hence, then, the traders purchase the tin of

the natives and transport it into Gaul, and finally, travelling through

Gaul on foot, in about thirty days they bring their burdens on horseback

to the river Rhone.’ Thus we learn from an authentic source how the tin

of Cornwall found its way to Italy in the times of the first Roman

Emperors; but long before that period the wild inhabitants of Cornwall

must have discovered the use of the metallic treasures of their barren

soil and the way to barter them for the commodities of the rude tribes

of their own island or of the neighbouring nations of Gaul.

When we consider the various and important uses to which tin may be

applied, we cannot wonder at its importance in the commerce of the

ancient world. The discovery of bronze marks one of the great epochs in

the progress of human civilization, and the nations that could command

its use became at once superior, in peace and war, to the tribes who had

only flint spear-heads for their defence or flint hatchets for the

construction of their huts. At a later period, when iron gradually

supplanted the use of bronze for many purposes, tin still continued to

be highly esteemed for its many excellent qualities. Possessing a lustre

but little inferior to that of silver, it is not soon tarnished, and not

only retains its metallic brilliancy a long time, but when lost easily

recovers it. Under the hammer it is extended into leaves called tin-

foil, which are about one-thousandth of an inch thick, and might easily

be beaten into one-half that thickness if the purposes of trade required

it. The application of tin to the coating of other metals has been

carried to great perfection, and it forms the chief ingredient in

various kinds of pewter and other white metallic alloys, such as

Britannia metal, which are manufactured into domestic utensils by

casting, stamping, and other ingenious processes. Tin is the substance

which, coated with quicksilver, makes the reflecting surface of glass

mirrors. It is also very important in dyeing processes, as its solutions

in nitric, muriatic, and other acids gives a degree of permanency and

brilliancy to several colours not to be obtained by the use of other

mordants. A compound of tin with gold gives the fine crimson and purple

colours to stained glass and artificial gems, and enamel is produced by

the fusion of oxide of tin with the materials of plate glass.

There are only two ores of tin—the peroxide, or tinstone, and the

pyrites, or stannine. The former alone occurs in sufficient abundance

for metallurgic purposes, and has been found in few countries in a

workable quantity. In Asia its richest deposits occur in Sumatra, the

peninsula of Malacca, and some smaller islands, particularly Banca and

Billiton. The stanniferous region in this part of Asia extends from 20°

N. Lat. to 5° S. Lat., and in many places the ore is found in such

quantities in the alluvial grounds as to be separated in the easiest

manner, by washing or ‘streaming,’ from the gravel or sand with which it

is mixed. The facility with which it is obtained renders its cost of

extraction so small that large quantities find their way to the European

markets. In 1866 the mines of Banca furnished 5,362 tons of tin, and

those of the Sound 5,254 tons of the same metal. The port of London

alone received 4,400 tons of tin from these two sources. In consequence

of the constantly increasing importation from the Malay countries, the

price of the metal has been constantly decreasing since 1856, so that

the ton of ore, which at that time was worth 70_l._, now fetches no more

than 48_l._ Unfortunately these low prices have materially injured the

prosperity of our Cornish mines, which from year to year find it more

difficult to compete with Banca and Billiton. Their production, however,

still continues to be immense, for in 1866 they yielded 15,080 tons of

ore, from which 9,990 tons of metal were extracted. This quantity is

greater than that of any preceding year; and as many of the deep mines

of Cornwall are changing from copper into tin ore, increased supplies

will be obtained to meet any demand.

Compared with this vast production, that of Saxony (seventy-six tons),

Bohemia (twenty-one tons), Spain, and France is so insignificant as to

be hardly worth mentioning; but our Australian possessions have lately

increased the small number of tin-producing countries, and give promise

of future importance.

Both Cornwall and Devon possess tin mines, which, however, are most

important in the county

‘Where England, stretched towards the setting sun,

Narrow and long, o’erlooks the western wave.’—COWPER.

The undulating surface of this arid peninsula, which, being remarkable

neither for agricultural nor foreign commerce, has been celebrated since

the remotest ages for the mineral riches concealed beneath its barren

soil, consists almost exclusively of slaty transition rocks or _killas_,

traversed or intersected by a central granitic range and by dykes of

porphyry or _elvan_ which cut the slate and granite, occasionally

traversing both in one continuous body of rock, somewhat in the manner

of trap-dykes, and evidently of a later formation. The lodes or mineral

veins traverse the granite, the slate, and the elvan indiscriminately,

but they occur more especially at the junction of granite and slate.

They have commonly one prevailing direction, but they invariably throw

off into the containing rock ‘shoots, strings, and branches,’ often in

such abundance that, instead of one main lode, called a champion lode,

the whole is an irregular network of veins. It is not at all certain

that the same lode has ever been traced for more than a mile in length.

Very often the lode first discovered dwindles to a mere line, whilst

some of its offshoots swell out, enlarge, and rival, or even surpass,

both in size and richness, the veins from which they have separated.

The metalliferous or valuable contents of a lode generally bear but a

small proportion to its unprofitable parts. Instead of forming uniform

lines of metal or pure ore, running throughout the whole extent of the

vein, they generally occur in what the miners term _bunches_, or in

patches of various sizes and shapes. These very rarely occupy the whole

space between the walls or containing sides of the lode, but they are

mixed up with a variety of other substances, the chief of which is

quartz.

Sometimes a lode is filled with a compact and perfectly solid mass; at

other times it abounds in cavities which may occur in any one of the

ingredients and also of any size, from those of the hollows of a

honeycomb to hollows of several fathoms in length and depth.

In many lodes tin is found associated with copper, and frequently above

the latter, so that the upper part of many a copper lode has been worked

as a tin lode.

The veins of Cornwall have no determinate size, being sometimes very

narrow, and at others exceeding several fathoms in width; sometimes they

extend to a great length and depth, at others they end after a short

course. They vary so in breadth that in the same lode one part may

consist of a mere line between the opposing walls, while another swells

to a width of from thirty to forty feet. These great changes, however,

seldom happen within several fathoms of each other. Lodes which yield

both tin and copper in mixture are considerably larger than those which

yield each metal singly. It is also a general fact that the lodes

diminish in breadth in proportion to their depth. The richest tin ores

are more commonly found between forty and sixty fathoms deep; but in

some instances, as in Dolcoath mine, the depth of 200 fathoms has been

attained without exhausting the supply, and Tresavean mine has been

worked to great profit at more than 320 fathoms from the surface. Tin

veins are considered to be good working when only three inches wide,

provided the ore be good for its width.

Besides being contained in lodes, tin is also found in alluvial beds,

probably resulting from the disintegration of the former during a long

series of ages. This stream-tin, as it is called, is met with either in

a pulverized sandy state in separate stones, called _shodes_, or in a

continued course of stones, which are sometimes found together in large

numbers, and occur at depths varying from one to fifty feet. This course

is called a stream, and when rich in ore was formerly called Beauheyl,

which is a Cornish word signifying a ‘living stream.’ In the same

figurative style, when the stone was but lightly impregnated with tin,

it was said to be ‘just alive,’ and dead when it contained no metal.

Tin streams of irregular breadth, though seldom less than a fathom, are

often scattered in different quantities over the whole breadths of the

moor bottoms or valleys in which they are found. As the confluence of

rivers makes a flood, so the meeting of tin-streams makes what is called

a rich ‘floor of tin.’ The ore, being thus disseminated both in the

alluvium which covers the gentle slopes of the hills, and in that which

fills the valleys winding round their base, is easily obtained by

conveying over its bed a stream of water, which, by washing away the

lighter matter, leaves the heavy ore to be picked up where the operation

has been performed.

There can be no doubt that this was the oldest method of tin-getting,

and the abundant traces of ancient stream-works which are to be seen

from Dartmoor to the Land’s End give proof of the great accumulation

which must have been formerly worked out by this method. In the course

of ages most of these alluvial deposits have been exhausted, and where,

thirty or forty centuries ago, large quantities of tin ore were

superficially gathered with little ingenuity and labour, the miner is

now obliged to descend many a fathom deep into the bowels of the earth

and work his slow way through the hard rock.

Yet, after so many centuries of research and extraction, tin-streaming

is still carried on in several places, as, for instance, at Carnon,

north of Falmouth, where a long line of stream-works extends down the

valley. The ore, mixed with rounded pieces of slate, granite, and

quartz, lies buried about fifty feet from the surface, beneath the

bottom of an estuary, where trees are discovered in their place of

growth, together with human skulls and the remains of deer, amidst the

vegetable accumulation which immediately covers the stanniferous beds.

Thus ruins are here piled up above ruins.

In 1866 the number of tin mines in activity amounted to 139 in Cornwall

and to 26 in Devonshire. In 1852 the most important works were

Balleswidden, Great Polgarth, Pollberro, and Drake Wall; but, as nothing

is more fluctuating than the fortunes of mines, others have probably

taken the lead since that period.

Wheal Vor, in the parish of Breage, three miles from Helston, may be

cited as a conspicuous example of the changes of fortune so frequent in

the annals of Cornish mining. Twenty-five years ago it was considered

the richest tin mine in Cornwall. More than 200,000_l._ profit had been

divided among the shareholders. In 1843 there were fifteen engines at

work on this extensive sett, which had the appearance of a town, and the

machinery was valued at 100,000_l._ Here was put up the first steam-

engine ever erected in Cornwall, between the years 1710 and 1714. The

lode from which the chief part of the ore was raised was still

productive in 1843, when the mine employed 1,200 persons, and the

monthly cost of working had been, some years before 1843, about

12,000_l._ per month. The mine, however, became less profitable, and,

wearing out by degrees, finally stopped.

There was formerly a blacksmith’s forge at the bottom of this mine, in

full operation at 1,470 feet below the surface of the earth. All the

miners’ tools were steeled, sharpened, and repaired, and bucket-rods cut

and welded in this subterranean smithy, which was clear and free from

dust, smoke, and sulphur, and did not in the least annoy the miners.

Within the last few years the mine has been resuscitated with a capital

of 200,000_l._; but, as the shares have fallen from 40_l._ to 8_l._, the

attempt seems to have been far from profitable.

The history of the rise and fall of Huel Wherry,[54] a tin mine which

was opened, more than a century ago, in the midst of the sea, near the

town of Penzance, is too interesting to be passed over in silence. In

this place a gravelly bottom was left bare at low water. Here a

multitude of small veins of tin ore crossed each other in every

direction through elvan rocks, and were worked whenever the sea, the

tide, and the season would permit, until the depth became unmanageable.

About the year 1778 Thomas Curtis, a poor miner, was bold enough to

renew the attempt. The distance of the shoal from the neighbouring beach

at high water is about 120 fathoms, and this distance, in consequence of

the shallowness of the beach, is not materially lessened at low water.

It is calculated that the surface of the rock is covered about ten

months in the year, and that the depth of the water upon it at spring

tide is nineteen feet. A very great surf is caused, even in the summer,

by the prevailing winds, while in winter the sea bursts over the rock in

such a manner as to render useless all attempts to carry on mining

operations. Yet all these difficulties had to be overcome by a poor

uneducated man. As the work could be prosecuted only during the short

time the rock appeared above water—a time still further abridged by the

necessity of previously emptying the excavation already made—three

summers were spent in sinking the pump-shaft, which was a work of mere

bodily labour. A frame of boards, made watertight by pitch and oakum,

and carried up to a sufficient height above the spring tide, was then

applied to the mouth of the shaft. To support this boarded turret—which

was twenty feet high above the rock, and two feet one inch square—

against the violence of the surge, eight stout bars were applied, in an

inclined direction, to its sides, four of them below, and four, of an

extraordinary length and thickness, above. A platform of boards was then

lashed round the top of the turret, supported by four poles, which were

firmly connected with these rods. Lastly, upon this platform was fixed a

windlass for four men.

Footnote 54:

‘Cornwall, its Mines and Miners.’