One of the most remarkable and appalling experiences possible to
conceive recently befell a young man named Robert Perry, at Apedale,
in Staffordshire. Tramping about the country in search of work, he
arrived one night, utterly tired out, at an ironworks, and unwittingly
took shelter in an “air furnace,” used for the purpose of reducing
very large pieces of iron, too large to be dealt with in the ordinary
way. As it happened, the fire-bars of this particular furnace had been
taken out, and Perry had no difficulty in creeping through the opening
and thus making his way inside. Here he had to mount a wall five feet
in height, and eventually reached the melting chamber, which at the
time contained about five tons of iron waiting to be smelted. Arrived
at this point, in blissful ignorance of the dangerous character of the
place he had selected to sleep in, and appreciating only its dryness
and seclusion, he lay down to rest. Exactly why he should have selected
such a strange bedchamber it is impossible to say, but tramps have
been known to choose even stranger quarters--such as lime-kilns and
brick-kilns. Anyhow, the fact remains that he went into the furnace
to sleep. What happened afterwards is told below, from information
gathered partly from the man himself and partly from other persons who
figured in his terrible adventure.
After a long walk in the broiling sun Perry arrived at Apedale quite
exhausted, and set about looking for a snug, dry place where he could
lie down and have a sleep. During his weary tramp he had been no
stranger to curious resting-places, and he had spent the previous night
under a railway arch. Presently he came across the smelting works of
the Midland Coal, Coke, and Iron Company, and, seeing a furnace which
he took to be unused, examined it intently. The wide, open front of
the contrivance looked tempting, and he decided to make its interior
his abode for the night. Crawling into the opening for some little
distance, he discovered that he had a wall five feet in height to climb
over, but scaled it without much trouble. Beyond he found himself in
pitch-darkness, but clambered cautiously onwards, trying to find a
comfortable place to lie down. Proceeding up a slope, he reached a sort
of chamber beyond, where a number of great pieces of iron were lying
about. Here the weary man lay down, and, being very tired, it did not
take him long to fall asleep. Let him tell the manner of his awakening
in his own words.
* * * * *
[Illustration: FIRE-GRATE WHERE PERRY CRAWLED IN.
_From a Photograph._]
I do not exactly know what awoke me, but upon trying to raise myself
a frightful choking feeling came over me, and I became conscious of
great heat. Then, like a flash, I realized what a dreadful mistake I
had made, and what a terrible situation I was in. The furnace was _not_
disused, and now the workmen had lit it, and I was a prisoner inside!
For a moment I felt sick with horror, but it did not take me long to
pull myself together and try to find a way out.
[Illustration: PLAN OF THE FURNACE--THE CROSS DENOTES WHERE PERRY
SLEPT.]
The whole place was in total darkness. Although I could hear a dull
roaring somewhere, and feel the waves of heated air and fumes passing
over me, I could not see the slightest sign of any light. Tremblingly
I felt up and down the sides of my prison to see if I could find a
door, but nothing of the kind could I discover. I tried to retreat
farther into the furnace to get away from that awful heat, but had
to return and face it again. Now, with a sickening heart, I saw that
flames were approaching my position. Thinking my end was near at hand,
I decided at all costs to go down the slope. This meant that I must
face the fire, which was now licking up towards me, sucked inwards
by the tremendous draught. Shivering with horror I made the attempt,
but the heat and flames were unendurable, and beat me back. Then,
crouching down, I worked myself along the side, thinking this my best
plan. At last--Heaven alone knows how--I reached the foot of the wall.
In a half-dazed, choking condition, I tried to climb up, but was met
by a veritable hurricane of fierce flames, which knocked me down and
burnt all the hair off my head. Half-blinded, scorched, and with my
brain benumbed from the effects of the fumes, I still did not quite
lose heart: something seemed to force me on to make a struggle for
life. Suddenly, as I lay there gasping in that inferno of heat and
flame, I heard voices outside, but I could not understand what was
said. I wondered dully whether, if I called out, the men I could hear
speaking would hear me, so, in my agony of physical suffering and
mental distress, I shouted, “O Lord, save me! O Lord, save me!” The
murmur of voices still went on, but presently one man evidently heard
my cries, and called out to a “Mr. Phillips” that he thought he heard
a shout for help. This, however, Mr. Phillips--who seemed to be the
foreman--ridiculed, and they went on working as before.
I was now on the verge of giving up; my strength seemed to be failing
me, but I decided to make one final attempt to get on the wall. I am
glad to say that it was not in vain, and after a desperate struggle I
succeeded in reaching the top. This seemed to renew my energy, and I
braced myself for what I knew was my last hope. I gave one horrified
glance at the furnace below, the flames roaring and leaping madly, and
then, with all the strength of my fire-scorched lungs, I shrieked out
once more, “O Lord, save me!”
The men outside stopped work at once.
“Did you hear that?” cried one, excitedly; “I heard it quite distinctly
that time; someone is shouting out ‘Lord, save me’!” This time Mr.
Phillips admitted that he _did_ think he heard a noise as if someone
was calling out, but where could it come from? It was impossible for
anyone to be in the furnace alive, for the fire had been going for some
time. Then someone else said, “Open the fire-door and see if you can
see anything.”
The fire-door! Where was it, I wondered--far away or near at hand?
Then, to my great joy, I heard them releasing a bolt just a few feet
from where I was. At last it opened--a place about a foot square--and
I saw daylight streaming in and then a man’s face. He peered in
anxiously, but evidently he could not see me, for I was now as black as
the furnace itself. Then he seemed to half-close the door and I nearly
swooned away, for this was my last chance.
Desperately I strove to shout, but the heat, flames, and smoke
prevented my uttering a sound save a choking gasp. Fortunately for
myself, however, I moved, and the watcher happened to catch sight of
something about me--probably the whites of my eyes shining in the
reflected light. “Good God!” he cried. “There’s a man in the furnace!
Pull the bars out as quickly as you can.”
[Illustration: “I FOUND MYSELF FALLING--RIGHT ON TO THE HUGE FIRE.”]
I did not trouble to think what or where the bars were; I knew only
that the men had seen me and would do everything in their power to get
me out. I heard them pulling the bars out in frantic haste, and saw Mr.
Phillips trying to squeeze himself through the small fire-door.
With my flesh scorching and my breath rapidly failing me in that awful
whirlwind of heat and flame, I put my arms down for him to catch hold
of. He seized me by the elbows and told me to jump, but this I could
not do, for I felt too far gone. With that he gave me a jerk, and I
found myself falling--right on to the huge fire! The bars were out, and
the fire was keeping itself together by the pressure of one block of
coal on another; but when my weight came upon it, it collapsed, sending
up a rush of flames all around me. To my intense horror, I felt the
skin on my arms giving way, but the courageous Mr. Phillips did not
release his hold. His hands were now on my wrists, and, exerting all
his strength, he pulled me up towards the door.
The pain of my burns was simply fearful, and I could have shrieked with
agony, but somehow, except for a few moans, I kept quiet.
[Illustration: ROBERT PERRY AS HE APPEARED AFTER HIS DISCHARGE FROM THE
INFIRMARY.
[_From a Photograph._]]
Presently the foreman succeeded in pulling me out of the small door,
but I felt as if dead, and as though I was shrivelling up and growing
smaller. As I lay on the ground, in agonizing pain, I appealed to the
men to strangle me. Again and again, in semi-delirium, I repeated the
request: “I’m done for! Strangle me! strangle me!” My whole body seemed
to be on fire, but my rescuers lost no time. Procuring some oil, they
saturated me with it, thus, in a measure, soothing the pain. Then they
got me on to an ambulance and rushed me off to the Chell Infirmary,
where I received every care and attention.
Never, so long as I live, shall I forget the terrible time I endured
in the furnace, and my unspeakable joy when I saw Mr. Phillips at the
fire-door.
* * * * *
I am indebted to Mr. Hill, the general manager of the above-mentioned
company, for a plan of the furnace. It may be interesting to add that,
even had Perry contrived to shelter himself from the flames at the
foot of the wall he mentions, he would very soon have met with a death
too awful to contemplate, as the molten iron would have flowed down
and overwhelmed him. The authorities inform me that Perry’s adventure
is altogether unprecedented in the whole of their experience. At the
moment when his first cry was heard the furnace had been alight for
some considerable time, having been started with a large quantity of
wood and many barrow-loads of hot coal in order to raise the heat
quickly!
[Illustration: MR. PHILLIPS STANDING BY THE FIRE-DOOR THROUGH WHICH
PERRY WAS DRAGGED.
[_From a Photograph._]]