Valley. The funeral was attended by many hundreds of people, and
was probably one of the most impressive funerals ever seen in the
United States. Public subscriptions were opened in all parts of the
country, and the people everywhere responded liberally to the appeal
for aid. The legislature of Pennsylvania passed a law forbidding the
exploitation of mines beyond a certain depth and capacity with but
one shaft, and a similar law was enacted in other states. Never
has public attention in America been so completely drawn towards a
mining accident as in this instance. Good has come out of the terrible
disaster, and it is to be earnestly hoped that more good will follow.
The terrible calamity at Avondale will be long remembered, not only in
Pennsylvania, but throughout the United States. Every few months an
accident at some one of the coal or other mines causes the interest in
Avondale to be awakened; but happily there has been no accident at all
approaching it in loss of life.
XXXIX.
IRON AND IRON MINES.
IRON AND ITS VALUE.—ITS ABUNDANCE, AND WHERE IT IS FOUND.—A
MOUNTAIN OF IRON.—IRON MOUNTAIN AND PILOT KNOB.—THE AUTHOR’S
VISIT.—CHASED BY GUERRILLAS.—A NARROW ESCAPE.—THE ANTIQUITY OF
IRON.—ITS VALUE IN MANIPULATION.—IRON AS MONEY.—INCONVENIENCE OF
USING IT.—FIRST IRON WORKS IN AMERICA.—DIFFERENCE BETWEEN IRON AND
OTHER MINES.—DIRECT AND REVERSE WORKINGS.—A PICTURESQUE SCENE.
Of all the metals, iron is the most useful, and is found in great
abundance in many parts of the globe. England, Sweden, and Russia are
the most famous countries of the old world for the production of iron,
and in the new world, North America has an inexhaustible supply. Along
the Atlantic coast, from the New England States to the Carolinas and
Georgia, there are numerous deposits of iron. On the west side of the
Alleghanies there is an abundant supply. The great centre of the iron
mines of that region is at Pittsburg. As we go farther west, we find
most of the states are rich in this mineral, and in Missouri there
is a mountain composed almost entirely of iron. The Iron Mountain of
Missouri is of itself a great curiosity.
[Sidenote: A MOUNTAIN OF IRON.]
It is situated in Washington County, and is easily reached by railway
from St. Louis. Properly speaking, it is not a mountain, but a hill.
Its elevation above the valleys around it is less than four hundred
feet. It is a low cone, with gently-sloping sides, and covered with
a forest of oak trees. The soil where these trees grow consists of
peroxide of iron, some of it being pulverized, and some of it in
small lumps. On the sides of the mountain there are loose lumps of
ore scattered about, and before the workings began there were large
masses of iron on and near the summit, some of them weighing many
tons. Though the character of the mountain has been known for many
years, no attempt was made to work this immense mass of ore until 1845.
A cutting was made in one side of the mountain, and the ore was found
to be of excellent quality. In the valleys surrounding the mountain
there is an abundance of ore, and for all practical purposes the iron
mines of Missouri are inexhaustible. The ore contains nearly seventy
per cent. of iron, though its yield, owing to the manner of working,
rarely exceeds sixty per cent. About six miles south of Iron Mountain
is Pilot Knob, which covers an area of three hundred and sixty acres,
and is nearly six hundred feet high. It contains great quantities of
iron, but is not as rich proportionally as the mountain which bears
the name of the metal.
About two thirds the way up the side of Pilot Knob, there is one bed
of ore about twenty feet thick, and estimated to cover more than fifty
acres. Other mountains of the same character are in the vicinity,
and all that is required to make the Missouri iron mines the best in
the world is the discovery of a mountain or two of coal suitable for
reducing the ore and refining the metal.
Iron is applied to a greater number of purposes, and consumed in
larger quantities, than all other metals combined. There is no other
metal which increases so much in value by the process of manipulation
as this. A bar of iron worth five dollars is worth ten dollars when
made into horse-shoes, fifty-five dollars when made into needles, four
thousand dollars when made into penknife blades, and two hundred and
fifty thousand dollars when made into balance springs of watches. In
the form of wrought iron it is soft when heated. It can be hammered
into any desired shape, rolled into plates, or drawn into fine wire.
Plates can be rolled no thicker than a sheet of letter paper. The
wires can be drawn so small as to be almost invisible to the naked
eye. Combined with a certain quantity of carbon, it can be melted and
cast into any desired shape, and with another proportion of carbon,
it takes the form of steel. As before stated, it enters in a thousand
ways into our daily life, and if all the iron in the world were
destroyed, mankind would suffer greatly.
[Sidenote: IRON AS MONEY.]
The antiquity of iron is not exactly known, but it is supposed that
the metal has been in use more than four thousand years. The catacombs
of Thebes and the tombs around Memphis, some of them more than four
thousand years old, represent butchers sharpening their knives on
round bars of metal, and the color of the knife and metal indicates
that they were of iron or steel. Homer has alluded to iron in the
poems which have descended from him to us. History tells us that the
Spartans were required to use this metal as money; probably it was
more valuable at that day than now. If our money were made of iron it
would be rather a serious matter for a man to carry cash enough about
him to make himself comfortable for twenty-four hours. Imagine a New
Yorker, starting on a journey where there were no banks, and he were
required to carry a thousand dollars or so in coin. He would need a
pair of horses to transport enough for buying his railway ticket to
Washington, and for handling the loose change required on the road, he
would need the assistance of half a dozen porters.
During the first seven centuries of the Christian era, the manufacture
of iron attracted little attention. In the early part of the eighth
century, mines were opened in the south of Europe, and from there,
in the ninth and tenth centuries, the manufacture of iron spread
northward. Improvements in the process of manufacture were steady,
but slow. Small furnaces were made by which cast iron was produced,
and after them came the invention of the blast furnace, which is
said to have occurred about the middle of the sixteenth century.
Other improvements were made in the following centuries, and in the
eighteenth century a blast was forced into the furnace by means of
a steam engine. Up to 1827 the blast was cold; but in that year a
Scotch inventor patented a system by which hot air was thrown into
the furnace, instead of cold. The invention was regarded of so much
importance that the patentee obtained damages of nearly a million of
dollars from a single company that had infringed upon his rights.
[Sidenote: IRON MINING IN AMERICA.]
Iron mining in America belongs almost entirely to the present century.
The existence of the ore was known before that time, but very little
use was made of it. A History of Virginia says that the settlers of
that colony started an iron work on the banks of the James River in
the year 1622, but before anything was done, the people were killed
by the Indians, and the works were abandoned for more than a hundred
years. A few forges and furnaces were set up in various parts of New
England, one of them as early as 1702.
In 1717 iron was exported from Pennsylvania to England; and a few
years later an act of Parliament prevented the erection of rolling or
splitting mills in the American colonies. The greatest improvement
in the manufacture of iron, in America, is in the use of anthracite
coal. Previous to 1820, iron was reduced by means of charcoal. About
that year anthracite coal was tried, and found to be available; and
as soon as it came into general use the business of iron manufacture
progressed rapidly.
The working of an iron mine is very much like working a mine of any
other character. There are shafts, and tunnels, and levels, just as in
a coal mine. The ore must be raised, and the men lowered and raised,
just as in any other mine. There are, however, more open worked mines
of iron than of coal, for the reason that the veins of iron are
generally found nearer the surface than the veins of the combustible
mineral. In the Iron Mountain of Missouri, which has already been
described, there is no necessity for shafts and levels, for the reason
that the mountain is a mass of ore, and the only working necessary
is to remove it in an open cutting, just as a bank of earth might be
removed in making a passage for a railway.
The only visit I ever made to the Iron Mountain and Pilot Knob
region was during the war, when work at the blast furnaces had been
suspended. A small party of us climbed to the summit of Pilot Knob,
and it was not a great climb, after all. We found that the mine
consisted entirely of open cuttings. The ore was drawn away from the
cuttings by means of small cars, running upon a track. As the cuttings
were partly up the side of the mountain, the loaded cars had a
downward grade, so that no power was required to move them. Considered
as mines with picturesque cuttings and underground scenes, they were a
total failure.
[Sidenote: CHASED BY GUERRILLAS.]
We looked around among them, and found nothing which we could call
sensational. While we were lamenting the absence of something
interesting, a small party of guerrillas made their appearance in the
valley below. They were armed, and we were not, and they were more
numerous than ourselves. They moved straight in our direction, and
we began to think that the place might be sensational, after all.
We scattered among the oak trees, and disappeared as much as it was
possible for us to disappear. The guerrillas evidently concluded
that we were not worth attacking,—and they were entirely right in
this conclusion,—for they changed their course, and rode away. We
immediately abandoned our researches among the iron works, and
returned to the railway station, which we considered a much safer
place.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF AN IRON MINE.]
In many metallic mines the operations are not conducted exactly like
those of coal mines, for the reason that the position of the veins
and beds is frequently quite different. Some of the metal lodes are
sometimes perpendicular, and generally have a high inclination to the
horizon. In such cases, the system of working is by means of steps.
Sometimes these steps are _direct_, or descending, and are made by
attacking the ore from above. In other cases the steps are _reverse_,
or ascending, and the ore is attacked from below. In either case the
excavations are like steps of stairs. The direct system is not in
use in coal mines, because the miner would be obliged to stand upon
the coal which he had disengaged; but it is frequently adopted in
obtaining metallic ores, which have to be pulverized and dressed to
make them fit for the furnace.
Where the metallic ores are in very rich lodes, or thick masses,
they are worked by a system of large chambers, or extensive
excavations. In this system great chambers are hollowed under the
earth and around the masses of valuable ore. In the copper mine
of Lake Superior, and in some of the Nevada mines, this system is
frequently employed, and sometimes the uncovering of a large mass will
require considerable time.
The methods and apparatus used in the underground beds and levels of
coal are equally applicable to iron and all other ores. The railway
wagons and horses are the same in the levels and galleries of all
kinds of mines. The workings are conducted upon the same principle;
the ventilation is afforded by the same means, and the surveys are
accomplished in one case the same as in the other. The arrangements of
the shafts are very much the same, and the buildings at the surface
have a family likeness. There is, however, more animation usually
about coal than about metal mines, for the reason that very few metal
mines furnish in the course of a month as much weight of material as
some coal mines do in a single day.
[Sidenote: DIFFERENCE BETWEEN IRON AND OTHER MINES.]
In metallic mines the work is generally harder than in coal mines,
and a great deal of blasting work is required. The drills, hammers,
and other tools used are like those used elsewhere, and sometimes
the groups at work are very picturesque. Imagine three men stripped
to the waist, one of them holding a drill and the others striking at
alternate and regular intervals with large hammers. A single lamp
burns near them, and makes a curious effect of light and shade. The
perspiring skins of the men glisten beneath the rays, and as they
swing their arms back and forth to wield the heavy hammers, they have
an appearance not altogether human. A novice in mining, when taken to
the locality where these men are at work, might easily be persuaded
that he was looking at a group of gnomes and wizards engaged in some
diabolical business.
[Sidenote: REFRACTORY ORES.]
In the production of iron it is generally found less expensive to
transport the ore to the coal than to transport the coal to the ore.
Most of the ores are carried to points where coal can be obtained
at a cheap rate; and where coal mines and iron mines are found close
together, the production of iron will be most profitable. For example,
the ores that are obtained in Oneida County, New York, are transported
to the anthracite regions of Pennsylvania, to be smelted in the great
furnaces at Scranton, and the canal boats that carry the ore bring
back coal for the furnaces near the mines. The reduction of iron ore
is much more difficult, in most cases, than the work of obtaining
the material from the earth. Sometimes the ore is of such a peculiar
character that it will only yield to the hottest fires, and frequently
the furnaces are run at considerable loss.
XL.
EXILES IN SIBERIA.
TOILING IN A SIBERIAN MINE.—A DARING ESCAPE.—HOW IT WAS
PLANNED.—TUNNELLING TO LIBERTY.—DISARMING GUARDS.—WORKING IN THE
DARK AND WITHOUT FRESH AIR.—A MURDEROUS ATTEMPT.—CUSTOMS OF THE
SIBERIAN PEASANTRY.—CARE FOR THE EXILE.—A SURPRISE.—A NARROW
ESCAPE FROM DEATH.—LIVING IN A MOUNTAIN GLEN.—HUNTING IN THE ALTAI
MOUNTAINS.—KILLED BY AN ARGAL.—SEPARATION AND DEPARTURE.—HOW TO
OBTAIN PASSPORTS.—SAFE ARRIVAL AT HOME.
One of the mining regions of Siberia is in the valley of the Yenesei
River, and along some of its upper tributaries. The Birusa River is
one of these tributaries, and many an exile has been sent there in
times past, to work out the sentence allotted him. Most of the mines
are known as surface washings, like the gulch mines of California, but
some of the more extensive are conducted on the tunnelling principle.
Tunnels are driven into the hill-sides where it is thought gold
can be found, and the earth is then brought out and washed in the
river. In one of these mines some years ago, there was a daring and
successful attempt to escape, which was described as below by one of
the participants.
“Occasionally the earth in the tunnels used to fall, in consequence of
not being properly secured; but the quantity was rarely very large,
and the result was not serious except in two or three instances.
We were driving a tunnel in one of the small hills on the banks of
the Birusa, and, as the soil was of a loose character, the falls of
earth were quite frequent. The men worked in gangs of ten or twelve,
under the charge of an armed overseer; and as each man was in chains,
and the mouth of the tunnel was carefully guarded, there was no
expectation of an attempt at revolt. There were some criminals among
us, but the most of the laborers were unfortunate Poles, who had been
sent to Siberia because they wanted their own country to be free, and
had endeavored to secure her freedom. I was among the latter, and had
been more than a year in the mines when the incident I am about to
relate occurred. Not a day had passed, during my imprisonment, when I
was not meditating some plan of escape.
[Sidenote: DARING PLAN FOR ESCAPE.]
“At last I hit upon something which I considered feasible, and
mentioned it to one of my companions. He agreed to it, and we
gradually broached it to the rest of the men in our gang. Some of them
hesitated at first, but they soon entered into it, and we made our
arrangements.
“The hill was small, and I had discovered a sort of ravine or valley
running along and into one side. I understood surveying pretty well,
and calculated that the tunnel at one point was not more than twenty
feet from this ravine. The prison where we were kept when not working
was some distance from the hill, and the guards were so placed, that
if we could get from the tunnel into this ravine, we could escape. My
plan was to have a fall of earth in the tunnel near the entrance, and
to dig a passage into the ravine while the dirt was being removed from
the place where it had fallen. I took a lesson from ground squirrels
and other burrowing animals, and intended to fill the tunnel with the
dirt we removed, so as to keep our pursuers, or rather our rescuers,
busy as long as possible. We managed to secrete an extra lot of
candles, and also to conceal two days’ supply of provisions. We then
communicated our plans to the gang that relieved us at sunset, and
they agreed to join us.
“On the evening fixed for our attempt, the relief gang was marched
into the tunnel, and we were ordered to quit work. At a given signal
we seized and disarmed our guards, and then bound them securely,
putting gags in their mouths to prevent their giving any alarm. I then
went to the place I had selected for the fall of earth, and pulled
away the wooden supports. Down came the earth in such quantity as
to block up the entrance, and cut us off completely from the outer
world. There we were enclosed in the tunnel, with many tons of gravel
to be taken away before we could get out.
“We knew that we should soon be missed; in fact, it was more than
probable that the guards at the mouth of the tunnel would hear the
noise of the fall, and give the alarm at once. Of course it would
be believed that the occurrence was purely accidental, and that we
would set at work at our end of the heap to make our way out. I had
carefully noted the spot where I intended to begin _my_ tunnel, which
should lead us to the open air, and to freedom.
“Part of the men began digging at the place I indicated; others
carried the dirt, which was taken out, to the heap which formed our
barricade. Two or three men were kept at the barricade making a great
noise with pounding on the fallen timbers and pretending to shovel
away the dirt. Our object in doing this was twofold; first, to drown
the noise of our work on our new tunnel, and, secondly, to make it
appear that we were as anxious to get out, and were as diligent in our
efforts, as were those outside to help us. My calculations were, that
we could get outside in about eight hours, as the earth was not very
hard, and we were only making a narrow tunnel through which we could
just pass by stooping.
[Sidenote: CONFINED IN A HOT ATMOSPHERE.]
“The men worked with a will, for life and liberty were at stake.
We relieved each other every half hour, and never did men do more
active service. The perspiration rolled from us in streams, for the
air was hot and close, and I had not calculated in how short a time
the confined atmosphere of our cavern would become foul with our
breath, and with the heat of the candles. We extinguished all our
lights except those where the men were employed, and those who could
do nothing towards our enterprise sat in the gloom and were silent
for the most part. We talked in low tones, through fear of being
overheard by those who had been our guards, of our movements after
we should escape from our confinement. Gradually the men ceased to
speak, and some of them dropped their heads forward in sleep. As I had
planned the escape, I was looked upon as the leader. I had too much
responsibility upon me to allow me to sleep. I felt drowsy, however,
and seemed to be falling into a sort of stupor, like my comrades. I
knew that my feelings and theirs were caused by the heavy atmosphere,
and longed most anxiously to reach the open air.
“Eight hours had passed, and there were no signs of an end to our
labors. The candles were burning dim, and threatened to go out
speedily for want of oxygen to sustain them.
[Sidenote: SAVAGE PROPOSAL OF A CRIMINAL.]
“Two of our number were criminals, and not, like the rest of us,
political prisoners. One of the criminals proposed to kill our guards,
so that they could give no information about us; but we refused to
consider his proposition. He was a bloodthirsty wretch, who had been
exiled for attempting to kill a companion while in a dispute over a
glass of vodki. But he seemed so determined to murder the guards, that
we concluded he might prove treacherous to us, and so we watched him
closely. He tried by stealth to kill one of them, and I then thought
he deserved no more forbearance from us. We bound him hand and foot,
determining to take him with us a day or two, so that he could not
give information about us, and then leave him to take care of himself.
“Just as the candles were flickering, and we were almost suffocated
with the foul air, one of the men at work in the tunnel rushed
from his place, and said, half shouting, and at the same time half
whispering,—
“‘We’re through! We’re through!’
“I went forward, and sure enough, there was a small aperture through
which the dawning day was just visible. In a few moments the aperture
was enlarged so that a man’s body could pass to the outer air. The
cool, clear atmosphere was refreshing in the extreme, and the shock of
the change was so great that I almost fainted as I began to breathe
freely. Day was breaking, and no time was to be lost. We could hear
the men at work removing the fallen debris, and it was evident that
they had not yet discovered our plans, or suspected that we were
trying to escape. We had few preparations to make, and in five
minutes after the opening had been sufficiently enlarged, we crept
through it, and were out of our temporary tomb.
[Sidenote: OUT IN THE OPEN AIR.]
“We crouched close to the earth, as a part of the ravine was visible
from the prison, and there were fears that some of the guards might
discover us. We left our chains where we had thrown them off, in the
tunnel, and fresh strength seemed to be added to our limbs, as we
moved without restraint, and inhaled no longer the hot air of our
place of labor. The murderer endangered us by rising to his feet, and
standing at full length in an exposed part of our pathway. I was just
behind him, and carried one of the guns wrested from our guards. I
gave the scoundrel a punch with the bayonet, and quickly brought him
to the ground. I threatened to kill him on the spot, but he promised
good behavior in the future, and I allowed him to live.
“From the ravine we managed to get into a small forest, without, as we
thought, being seen by any one. In the forest we could walk erect, but
we had great fears of meeting some one of the soldiers who belonged
to the station, and might be astir to select wood for cutting. We
pushed along, and luckily encountered no one; and by the time the sun
was up, we were more than a mile from the place where we had dug our
way to freedom. We walked in silence, stopping now and then to look
around in all directions. We had nearly as much fear of meeting any
one as we had of being pursued, since an encounter with a soldier or
Cossack would give the alarm of our flight, and pursuit would then be
a question of only a few hours at farthest.
[Sidenote: KINDNESS OF SIBERIAN PEASANTS.]