of perspiration rolling off their cheeks. The subterranean vault was
very well lighted with gas forced down the pipes in the same manner as
the air; and it is a curious fact, that in the compressed air a foot
burner gives as much light as a four foot one would in the ordinary
atmosphere. The caisson seemed to be full of steam, as if a hundred
washerwomen were plying their avocation at the tub. The bottom of the
caisson is divided into several chambers by means of iron and wood
partitions, with entrances leading into each other. The air does not
seem impure nor unpleasant. According to an examination made a few
days before my visit, it was then found to contain a small percentage
of carbonic acid, but not enough to do any harm.
[Sidenote: OPERATIONS BELOW.]
As soon as the sand is dug, it is sent up various pipes, four inches
in diameter, which operate in the same way as siphons. It is odd to
notice with what force the sand ascends to the top of the caisson, and
it is all that six men can do to shovel it in fast enough. Boulders of
trap rock were found embedded in the quicksand. These were broken up
and hoisted out by an apparatus similar to a dredging machine, working
in an immense shaft filled with water.
The shape of the interior of the caisson resembles very much the
lips of an enormous bell, and in reality it is worked upon the same
principle as an ordinary diving-bell, the water being kept out by the
great pressure of air. As soon as the caisson is perfectly settled,
and all the sand and debris down to the bed rock is removed, the
interior is filled with concrete and masonry, and thus the pier
obtains a foundation perfectly solid.
While making a tour through the various chambers, I found a pair of
doves, which had been placed there for testing the effect of the
compressed air. The birds appeared to have become accustomed to their
new habitation, where they had been for several weeks. They looked,
however, rather disconsolate and sickly, and I learned, a day or two
later, that one had died from the effects of its imprisonment.
A black and tan terrier had also been taken into the caisson, but
after it had been down a few hours it became paralyzed in its hind
legs, and was taken up; and for more than a fortnight it did not
recover from the shock to its system.
[Sidenote: SCENES IN THE CAISSON.]
The scene in the caisson is a very novel one. The water, seen through
the gas jets, sparkles in the pools at the bottom of the river, the
men are toiling and perspiring amid the rushing and rumbling noise
of the sand siphons, and everything appears in confusion. While our
party was making its tour, it was found that our voices had completely
changed; each one appeared to stutter, and altogether the voice had a
very unnatural sound, as if we spoke in a half screeching key.
An attempt was made to whistle, but whistle we could not. The lips
might be puckered, and you might blow as hard as you pleased, but it
was all in vain, as not a note could be heard. Some of us tried to
whistle by our fingers, but were unsuccessful.
Communication is had with the upper-world by means of a movable iron
rod and a couple of dials, one above and the other below. These form
the telegraph. On each dial are printed, in plain letters, the words,
“All right,” “Start,” “Faster,” “Slower,” “Stop,” “Less,” “More,”
“Bucket is caught,” “Highest corner,” “Stopped,” “Come up all;”
and the last is the most pleasing call of the entire number to the
laborers below.
Adjoining the dial is a thermometer, which indicated the atmosphere to
be eighty-two degrees Fahrenheit.
Accidents occur in the caisson, in spite of all precautions. A short
time before my visit, a small stone caught in the pipe of the siphon,
and one of the workmen came very near losing his arm while attempting
to pull it out. His hand was drawn into the pipe, as if by a powerful
magnet. The man was thrown upon his face by the great power of the
atmosphere, and at the same time his arm was drawn up the pipe: had
it not been for four of his comrades instantly pulling his arm down,
the limb would have been torn from his shoulder. He received severe
injuries, and is not likely to be so careless again. The skin of the
arm looked as if a quantity of boiling oil had been poured over it,
and it soon became blistered from his shoulder downward.
After a stay of nearly an hour, the party proceeded to return once
more to terra firma. We entered the lock, as on making the descent,
through the small iron door; then the compressed air was allowed
to escape until the pressure of the air was equal to that of the
atmosphere outside.
[Sidenote: CHANGE OF ATMOSPHERE.—THE JAMS.]
While this was going on, a peculiar sensation was experienced, but it
was not as disagreeable as that of making the descent. It seemed as
though there was a rush of water through the ears, and we were diving.
Ascending to the top of the caisson occupied about ten minutes, as
the physician in attendance recommends that the change from the high
pressure should not be made rapidly. We were all glad to breathe the
pure air and enjoy daylight again. Several of the workmen stated that
nearly every day some of them suffered from the work below, and said
one,—
“We have all had the jams.”
“What are the jams?” said I.
“Well,” said another, “they ain’t the jim-jams, brought on by drink,
for we dare not take much, but a feeling like the flesh a tearin’ off
of our bones.”
“We have the cramps in our legs, body, arms, and chest,” said another,
“and at times it causes us so great pain that we cannot work; we do
not notice anything amiss until we have been out of the caisson for
some hours, sometimes not until the next day. These ‘jams,’ as we call
them, go away as quickly as they come, but sometimes return after
another visit to the caisson.”
The men are cautioned to abstain from drinking spirits, but with
some the caution is not heeded, and those that will drink spirits in
preference to coffee are generally the greatest sufferers.
The construction of the abutments of this bridge is a novel one. It
was first introduced on the building of the St. Louis suspension
bridge, and since then great improvements have taken place. When
completed, the bridge will be a noble monument of engineering skill.
XXIX.
THE INUNDATION AT LALLE.
INUNDATION OF A MINE ON THE LOIRE.—HOW THE MEN WERE SAVED.—SONG
OF THE PUPILS OF THE MINING SCHOOL AT ST. ETIENNE.—TERRIBLE
FLOOD OF A MINE AT LALLE.—BREAKING IN OF A RIVER.—COURAGE OF
AUBERTO, A WORKMAN.—SAVING SIX LIVES.—PLAN FOR RESCUE.—DISCOVERING
THE WHEREABOUTS OF THE PRISONERS.—ONE MONTH’S WORK IN THREE
DAYS.—OPENING THE DRIFT-WAYS.—SIXTY FEET OF TUNNELLING.—IN THE
DARKNESS WITH A CORPSE.—STORY OF THE RESCUED.—THIRTEEN DAYS OF
PERIL.—FINDING THE BODIES OF THE DEAD.—ONE HUNDRED AND FIVE MEN
DROWNED.—SAVING A CHILD.—EATING WOOD AND LEATHER TO SAVE LIFE.—A
HORRIBLE SIGHT.
In one of the mines on the River Loire, about thirty years ago, there
was a terrible accident, caused by the sudden eruption of the water.
The water came in like a torrent, and drove the miners up an inclined
gallery, where there was no outlet. The people above ground rushed to
their assistance; the engineers brought their plans of the mine, and
determined where the enclosed men were to be found, if still alive.
Workmen volunteered to go to the assistance of their comrades, and
a new gallery was begun in the direction of the supposed place of
refuge. The blows of the pick upon the wall were at first unanswered;
but after a while, faint sounds were heard in response. The rock was
hard, and progress was slow; but every man did his best, working night
and day. Sound is transmitted through rock with great facility, and
in a little while the workmen could hear the voices, as well as the
knocking of their imprisoned friends. Six days passed in this way, and
at length a hole was bored through the rock, and the colliers were
found to be all living.
Though they were near starvation, and had eaten their candles, and
even their leather straps, their first appeal was for light, not for
food. Prolonged darkness is distressing in the extreme, and these men
had suffered the total absence of light nearly the whole of their time
of imprisonment. Candles were passed through the bore-hole, and then
a tin tube, through which broth was poured. The work of relief was
pressed forward, and at the end of the sixth day the sufferers were
released and brought to daylight, amid the cheers of the men assembled
around the mouth of the mine.
The story of the release of these miners is familiar to all the
inhabitants of that region. The pupils of the Mining School of St.
Etienne composed a ballad, of which the following is the opening
stanza:—
[Sidenote: SONG OF MINING STUDENTS.]
“Mineurs, écoutez l’histoire
De trois malheureux ouvriers,
Restés sans manger ni boire
Pendant six grand jours entiers.
Au fond d’une galerie
Serrés comme en un local,
Ils auraient perdu la vie
Sans la coupe verticale.”
This ballad was sung two or three times daily, at the beginning and
end of lessons when the master was not present. One of the teachers
of the school assisted at the rescue of the miners, and used to tell
the story to his pupils. He added a moral to it, after the manner
of Æsop with his fables, and endeavored to impress upon the school
the importance of vertical shafts from all the principal galleries
to the surface. Many lives have been lost in mines in consequence of
the absence of these shafts, and in every locality where mining is
conducted on an extensive scale, the law should compel the owners to
make at least two openings to the outer world.
In 1862 an inundation occurred at the mine of Lalle, in France, by
which one hundred and five persons lost their lives. The story is thus
related by M. Simonin:—
On the 11th of October, between three and four o’clock in the
afternoon, a violent storm visited the country, and it is asserted
by some of the inhabitants, that a waterspout had burst there.
The waters of the River Cèze, as well as those of a stream and of a
ravine, which is dry at ordinary times, both of them being tributary
to the Cèze, rose higher than they had ever been seen before. It was
a vast inundation, or, as the people of that region describe it, a
deluge. The mine extended under the river, and its mouth was not far
from the bank. The water made a whirl at one point, and then rushed
into the mine through a large opening over the outcrop of one of the
coal seams. There was a rumbling noise all through the mine; all
hands were at work under ground, and there was danger of a terrible
calamity. Some of the men managed to escape by the ladders, while
others hastily ascended a shaft, and floated upwards on the surface of
the water.
[Illustration: INUNDATION OF A MINE. SCENE IN THE MINE OF LALLE,
FRANCE.]
A noble act of courage and devotion was performed by a Piedmontese
workman by the name of Auberto.
[Sidenote: COURAGE OF AUBERTO.]
He escaped up a shaft, and as he did so, he gave the alarm to a
comrade who was at work in a lower level. Auberto then ran to another
opening, fastened the tub to a rope, descended, and called, the water
falling all the while in a perfect torrent. Five men came out; four
entered the tub, and were saved; the fifth hesitated a moment, and was
lost. As soon as they reached the surface, Auberto caused himself to
be lowered again. Perceiving a man entangled in the timbering of the
lower gallery, he drew him out, threw him into the tub, and was drawn
up at the moment the water took possession of that part of the mine.
Auberto had saved six lives, and would have saved more, but no other
point was accessible, the whole mine being then under water.
There was only one outlet remaining, and this had been formed by the
breaking of the ground near the point where the waters were rushing
in. Lights were seen shining there, and ropes were thrown in; but the
violence of the waters increased, the ground fell in afresh, this
last outlet became closed, and all the men in that part of the mine
were drowned. In half an hour the interior of the mine was converted
into a lake. The air and gas in the mine were compressed by the
weight of the water, and were forced out through fissures in the
ground, producing the effect of gunpowder, throwing the earth to a
considerable distance, and in some cases overturning houses.
Everybody in the vicinity rushed to the mouth of the mine, and an
anxious and terrified crowd was speedily collected. The engineers and
superintendents were first on the spot, and were speedily joined by
the engineers and workmen from the neighboring mines.
[Sidenote: PLANS FOR RELIEF.]
No immediate relief is possible. Perhaps the colliery is only a vast
tomb, for out of a hundred and thirty-nine men who entered the mine
in the morning, only twenty-nine have escaped. A hundred and ten are
scattered in the interior of the mine, some at one point and some at
another, at different depths and in varying conditions. How are they
to be found? and is it certain that even one of them is living?
A dike was made at the surface to keep out the water, and the
engineers consulted the plan of the mine, in order to devise the
surest and readiest means of relief. While this was being done, a
young boy, who had previously been employed in the mine, entered one
of the galleries, and, after knocking for some time on the walls,
thought he could distinguish sounds answering to his own. He called
his comrades, and repeated the experiment with the same result. The
engineers were informed, and everybody hastened to the spot. M.
Parsan, of the Imperial School of Mines, had arrived from Alais, to
direct the work of salvage. He ordered everybody to maintain the most
perfect silence, and then he made a signal by knocking with a pick at
regular intervals of time. He has written an exciting account of these
operations.
“With ears resting on the coal,” he says, “and holding our breath,
we soon heard, with profound emotion, extremely faint, but distinct
and timed blows,—in fact, the miners’ signal,—which could not be the
repetition of our own, because we had only knocked at equal intervals.”
Between the prisoners and their rescuers there was a solid wall more
than sixty feet thick, which must be cut through; but the greater part
of the miners were shut up in the mine. But volunteers were ready from
the other mines, and soon the blows of the pick carried hope to the
hearts of the prisoners. The work began at six o’clock on the evening
of the 12th, at five differents points in the gallery where the sounds
were heard.
[Sidenote: PUSHING THE WORK OF RESCUE.]
The five drift-ways were made towards the place where the sufferers
were enclosed. One pickman at a time worked in each heading, and he
was relieved at the moment when he began to feel wearied. He worked
with all his energy, and the coal which he removed was carried away in
baskets as fast as it was detached. The labor proved more difficult
in consequence of a want of air, and it became necessary to put up
ventilators. Sometimes the lamps would only burn in front of the
air-pipe. At two o’clock on the morning of the 14th, the voices of
the imprisoned colliers could be heard. “There are three of us,” they
said; and they gave their names. The coal increased in hardness, and
the heat became unbearable. All that day and the next the best pickmen
went to the front, hewing the coal with all their strength, the
prisoners all the while making themselves heard. Finally, at midnight
of the 15th, one of the drift-ways was completed, and the three men
were reached.
Only two were alive. The youngest was sobbing, the other was in a high
state of fever, and the third, an old man, had been unable to survive
the trying ordeal, and was found dead not far from his companions.
The two survivors were covered with blankets, refreshed with cordials,
and carried to the hospital of the mine, where they were put in the
care of the physician, who next day pronounced them out of danger.
The work of rescue had continued without intermission for seventy
hours. On calculating the amount of rock and coal removed from the
drift-ways, it was found that a full month would have been required,
under ordinary circumstances, to do the work which had been performed
in three days.
[Sidenote: STORY OF THE SUFFERERS.]
The most precise details of the circumstances of their confinement
were given by the two rescued colliers. They were at work in a heading
when the water was heard coming upon them. They then ran to the
upper end of the gallery, where they were found—a narrow place with
a considerable slope, and very slippery. With their hands and the
hooks of their lamps they dug a little place in the shale to sit down
in; the water was up to their feet, and they were in a sort of bell,
in which the air was highly compressed. They felt a singing noise in
their ears, and for a time they lost their voices. Their lamps went
out for want of oil. They tapped with the heels of their shoes on the
walls of the gallery to summon assistance. This sound was the one
which was heard, but only after they had been imprisoned twenty-four
hours!
Convinced that help would arrive, the eldest of the three, the one who
was destined never to behold the light of day again, shed tears of
joy. Another, mad with thirst, descended into the level with the water
up to his armpits, in a vain search for a way through the rubbish;
but he afterwards regained his place, being guided by the voices of
his companions. The youngest, seventeen years of age, frequently fell
asleep, and would have fallen into the water but for the help of his
neighbor, who held him in his arms like a child, and thus saved him
from death. At one time the noise of the ventilator connected with
the operations of their preservers reached their ears, when they
imagined that a new influx of water was about to occur, and they
became discouraged. The old man was constantly active. Overcome by
his efforts, he slid from his resting-place into the water, and was
drowned without a struggle, and without uttering a cry. Frozen with
horror, and held motionless in their places, the two others dared not
move to his assistance, and they even refrained from announcing the
accident to those who were working to relieve them. “There are three
of us,” they cried, when in reality only two were alive.
[Sidenote: IN DARKNESS WITH A CORPSE.]
The one who suffered from thirst finally determined to move, but
touching the dead body while drinking, he clambered back again.
Fatigue, bad air, and this fearful vicinity to a corpse, rendered him
delirious, and he said to his comrade, “Come, let us leave this.” The
other was frightened, and in order to divert his attention, suggested
that he should go and drink again. He went, and returned, striking
against the dead body in passing. “The darkness,” said he, “made the
place more horrible than anything I had ever imagined.”
In the mean time the water got lower in the level, but it was cold
there, and the two captives remained in their places where the air
was dry and warm, though constantly growing more impure. At last they
were recovered, and carried into the light by their comrades. By a
strange phenomenon they had lost all notion of time, and thought they
had not been in the mine more than twenty-four hours. Other instances
of a similar nature are recorded. Some miners of Hainault, who lived
twenty-five days shut up in a mine during an inundation, thought they
had only been there eight or ten hours.
While the operations for saving the lives of these two men were in
progress, other works were undertaken, with the view of penetrating
the interior at other points. Pits were dug where the miners were
suspended from ropes for fear of explosions, while other workings,
which had been injured by the flood, were repaired. One of the
old shafts was undergoing repairs at the time of the accident. In
ordinary times, fifteen days, at the least, were required to refit the
engine, put up the ropes, and get everything ready. In this instance
everything was done in four days: the pumping began on the 15th of
October, and was not again interrupted.
The workmen continued to bore and dig shafts. On the 24th of October,
thirteen days after the accident, the men working at the bottom of
the shaft heard shouts. Three men were still alive, only separated by
rubbish and a vacant space of ground from the point where the workings
were in progress. Disputes arose as to who should save them, each man
desiring the honor of going down first. At last the favor was given
to one of the overmen, who descended and found two men, who clung to
him, and begged for relief. He encouraged them, and fed them from a
can of broth which he carried. In a little while the timbermen made
the place secure, and the captives were brought out.
[Sidenote: A CHILD BURIED IN THE COAL.]
A third prisoner, a child, was still left. His comrades described the
place where they had buried him in the coal to keep him warmer. The
engineer hastened to the spot, and seized the child, who embraced him
and wept; the three were taken at once to the hospital, where they
soon found themselves in the company of the other two, who had already
been saved.
[Illustration: FALLING IN OF A MINE.]
Like their comrades whose story I have just told, the three last
colliers had fled before the water from the first moment of its
breaking in, and finding a rubbish passage stopped up, they
despairingly made an opening into it. They afterwards clambered to
the heading of the gallery as a last refuge. Their lamps were out,
but they heard the water rise, and retreated before it. The noise
occasioned by falls, and the breaking of timber, as well as the sound
of explosions caused by compressed air, reached their ears distinctly,
like a frightful tumult, which seemed to announce to them the last
hours they had to live. One of them had a repeating watch, which he
caused to strike several times; but it stopped on the morning of the
12th of October at a quarter to three o’clock. They heard the noise
of the tubs plunging into the water in two adjacent shafts. They
conceived the idea of reckoning the progress of time by means of
the short intervals of rest caused by changing the gangs. They thus
formed a very near guess at the period of their captivity, which they
reckoned at fifteen days, instead of thirteen.
To satisfy their hunger, they ate the rotten wood of the timber
supports, which they crumbled in water, and then devoured, having
previously eaten their leather belts. They could quench their thirst
at will, and that sustained them. Afterwards the water rose to where
they were, and wet their feet. Subsequently it fell, and then they
thought of fastening one of their boots to a string and drinking
out of it. Finding the water retiring, the child resolved to go in
search of an outlet. Swimming or holding on by the walls, he groped
his way along, but found nothing. Exhausted and chilled with cold, he
returned to his companions, who lay close to him to warm him, and then
covered him with small coal, in which position he was found.
[Sidenote: THIRTEEN DAYS IN DARKNESS.]
These men were liberated after being shut up thirteen days: the
temperature, the pressure, and the composition of the air in which
they were found, were favorable to life, and, moreover, they had the
means of quenching thirst. Under such conditions, it may be possible
to live a month. Our nature can endure a great deal when it is
compelled to exert itself. The energy and tenacity of life are great,
and few men know how much they can undergo until they are driven to
make the experiment.
Only five were saved in this catastrophe at the mines of Lalle. All
the rest of the one hundred and ten perished. Drainage of the mine was
steadily pushed amid innumerable accidents, and the colliery was free
of water on the 4th of the following January, fifty million gallons
of water having been removed. During the interval the bodies were
slowly discovered, and heart-rending was the spectacle which the mouth
of the shaft presented as the bodies of the victims were drawn up,
relatives and friends pressing forward and endeavoring to recognize or
guess at some well-known face. And the scene in the mine, as the water
slowly fell and the bodies were found floating on the surface with the
light thrown upon them by the lamps of the searchers, is described as
horrible in the extreme.
[Sidenote: GOVERNMENT MEDALS.]