In many coal mines there is great danger from what the miners call

“fire-damp”—an inflammable gas produced from the coal. It is identical

with the streams of natural gas, which burn readily, and not unlike

the coal gas artificially produced in cities. Certain kinds of coal

throw off this fire-damp in considerable quantities. The gas is a

combination of hydrogen and carbon. Sometimes its presence is not

noticed until an explosion, but in such cases the explosions are not

very dangerous. Those who have been accustomed to this explosive

material have received a vivid experience of underground life. No

meteor, however terrible it may be supposed to be, can be compared to

an explosion of fire-damp. A thunderbolt, a hurricane, a typhoon, a

cyclone, or a whirlwind, is not more terrible in its effects than a

fire-damp explosion. Imagine a discharge of a hundred cannon loaded

with canister shot, the simultaneous explosion of a number of powder

magazines, or the bursting of the boilers of a steam engine, and the

effect will not be more terrible than an explosion of fire-damp in a

coal mine.

[Illustration: EXPLOSION OF “FIRE DAMP,” AN INFLAMMABLE GAS GENERATED

IN COAL MINES.]

The moment the gas comes in contact with the flame of a lamp, its

tremendous explosive force is revealed, and it penetrates into every

quarter of the mine. In an explosion of this kind everything is

shattered far and near. Horses, men, doors, machinery, and everything

else lying in its course is overthrown, and sometimes heavy machinery

at the top of the mine is blown away. Dense clouds of smoke, and

frequently masses of coal, stone, and timber, are sent flying from

the shaft high into the air. The very ground shakes as if moved by an

earthquake, and the general appearance of the shaft is not unlike that

of a volcano in a state of eruption. Streams of water are sent into

the air, and not a pane of glass for a long distance around remains

unbroken; and to these horrors must be added the great confusion and

alarm of the people, the wailing of the women and children whose

nearest friends have perished, and even then the terrible picture is

incomplete.

The stories of these explosions would fill volumes. In one mine three

hundred and sixty men at one time were killed, in another two hundred,

in another one hundred, in another fifty, in another twenty, in

another sixty, eighty, and so on, through mine after mine, till the

deaths from fire-damp could be numbered by thousands. Not those alone

who are in the wreck of the explosion are the victims.

At a Pennsylvania mine a few years ago, a dozen men were at work in

one of the galleries, and heard an explosion in a portion of the

mine some distance away. They rushed to the shaft, and attempted to

escape. Before the bucket was lowered to remove them, the choke-damp,

developed by the explosion, overtook them, and the whole party were

suffocated. Hundreds of stories might be related of explosions in coal

mines. One of them will be sufficient for the present.

[Sidenote: STORY OF AN EXPLOSION.]

At one time, in one of the English mines, forty men were at work. At

the mouth of the shaft there were a dozen or twenty men, when suddenly

there was a loud report, like an explosion. It was at first supposed

to be the bursting of the boiler; but a moment’s observation showed

that the fire-damp had become ignited. The masonry at the mouth of the

mine, and all the machinery above it, were blown away. At the moment

of the explosion, a tub filled with coal was being hoisted up. It was

a hundred feet or more from the surface, and it was blown into the air

as if it were a bullet fired from a gun. The fragments fell around the

mouth of the shaft, injuring several of the men who were there.

When an explosion occurs, the miners, and all attached to the

establishment who may be above ground at the time, are ready to go

to the relief of their comrades. In the present instance a relief

party was organized at once. A pulley was rigged over the mouth of

the shaft, and two men entered a bucket to be lowered down. They had

not descended fifty feet before their lights were extinguished, and

very soon they made a signal to be drawn to the surface, both of them

being in a condition bordering on suffocation. They were ill through

the night, and one of them did not recover his strength for several

days. A second attempt was made, and resulted in nearly the same way.

The lights were extinguished, and the men drawn up in a suffocating

condition. The galleries seemed to be full of choke-damp, and it was

almost certain that no one could be alive in the mine. A hose was

lowered, and pure air was pumped into the mine. This work lasted three

or four hours, and then two others descended and succeeded in reaching

the bodies of some of their companions; but in the attempt one of the

rescuers fell dead, and the other was nearly suffocated.

More air was poured into the mine, and it was then twenty-four hours

from the time of the explosion before the explorers thought it safe

to enter. Every man who was below at the time of the explosion was

killed. At the stables near the foot of the shaft a horrible scene was

presented. According to the indications, three of the men were in the

stables, taking care of the horses, at the moment of the explosion.

The stables were thrown down, the men and horses were covered with the

fallen debris, and death by suffocation seemed to have ensued in a

very short time.

At the end of the gallery, where the explosion had taken place, the

bodies of the men were found in some cases hardly scorched, while

in others every particle of clothing had been burned away. In some

instances the bodies were so baked that they could not be recognized.

[Sidenote: HEART-RENDING SCENES.]

Around the mouth of the pit the families of the miners were

congregated. As each body was brought to the surface, there were

shrieks and loud lamentations that could be heard for a long distance.

A more terrible sight cannot be seen in the whole world, than at the

mouth of a mine shaft after an accident of this kind.

A story is told of an explosion, in one of the Welsh mining districts,

which caused the death of forty-seven men. Only two men that were

below at the time escaped with their lives. These men were brothers.

When the explosion was heard, one of the brothers rushed towards the

other, who was a short distance away. A second explosion followed,

more severe than the first, and threw the men down. Both were stunned,

but they gradually recovered their senses, and were able to move. The

air was thick and hot, and they could only move with great difficulty.

The older brother had his can of tea, and bathed their faces with the

liquid, so that they revived. Supporting each other, they tried to

reach the entrance to the mine. They crawled on their hands and knees

in the midst of darkness, over the bodies of their late companions,

some of whom were still breathing, while the rest were silent and

dead. After many narrow escapes, they reached the end of the gallery,

near the shaft, and were saved.

[Sidenote: AN INGENIOUS APPARATUS.]

An apparatus has been invented by which a man can enter places

filled with choke-damp, either to carry aid to suffering men after

an explosion, or to make explorations. A bag, or case of leather, or

metal, is carried on the back, into which air has been driven under

a heavy pressure. A rubber tube extends from the bag, and is fastened

to the mouth and nose. It is furnished with two valves, one opening

inward, to carry the air to the lungs, and the other outward, to carry

off the air after it has been breathed. For long journeys extra bags

filled with air may be taken. Some of these reservoirs, made of sheet

iron, will resist a pressure of thirty or forty atmospheres. Another

apparatus, fastened to the back, like a soldier’s knapsack, has a kind

of valve, placed above the reservoir, allowing the air to enter the

lungs at the ordinary pressure only.

A similar apparatus is made by filling an air-tight goat-skin with

air. The same kind of tubes are employed, and sufficient air can be

carried to last the bearer fifteen or twenty minutes.

To guard against gas explosions, Sir Humphry Davy invented a safety

lamp. He protected the flame with wire gauze, on the principle that

flame cannot be made to pass through a tube, however short, unless it

is driven through. The wire gauze is in fact a number of short tubes

close together, and thus, while the explosive gas may pass through,

the flame cannot do so.

An improved lamp of this class has a glass cylinder around the flame,

with gauze at the top and below. The glass is protected by stout

wires. A great many forms of these lamps are in use in mines, but all

are constructed on the same principle. By the use of this safety lamp,

many mines that had been abandoned were re-opened; and Sir Humphry

Davy is regarded as one of the greatest benefactors of this age. His

lamp might well be called, like Aladdin’s, the Wonderful Lamp.

Sometimes, when fire-damp is very abundant, and is steadily given

out, it is utilized for lighting purposes; the gas is collected, and

by means of a pump a jet of gas is poured from a tube and is ignited.

One of these jets has been burning for more than twenty years in an

English coal mine. In the same mine the gas was collected in pipes,

and carried outside, where it was used to run a steam engine.

[Sidenote: CHINESE FIRE-WELLS.]

A French traveller has given a vivid description of the famous

fire-wells of China. He says that where the air escapes it is very

inflammable, and if a match is presented at the mouth of the shaft,

the gas explodes like gunpowder, and forms a great column of fire

twenty or thirty feet high.

He says the largest fire-wells are situated in the mountains about

one hundred miles from Wutung. They are in a valley, where pits were

sunk in the hope of finding salt water. The water was not found; but

suddenly a column of gas rushed out, bringing masses of earth and

stones. The noise was terrific, and was heard a long distance. The

mouth of the pit was surrounded by a stone wall six or seven feet

high. As soon as the fire reached the mouth of the well it caused

a terrible explosion, something like an earthquake. The flame was

several feet high, and the force was sufficient to throw down some of

the stones composing the wall. Several men carried a large flat stone

to the pit, and placed it over the mouth. It was immediately thrown

into the air, and some of the men were badly injured.

Neither water, stone, nor earth would extinguish the fire. After two

weeks of hard work a quantity of water was brought over the mountains

from a small river, and a lake was formed. The water being suddenly

turned into the well, the fire was extinguished.

In some mines it is the custom, where the accumulation of fire-damp

is gradual, to light it every night, so that the works may be always

accessible in the daytime. The man whose duty it is to light the

fire-damp wraps himself in a thick blanket, covering his face with

a mask, and with his head enveloped in a hood like a monk’s. The

fire-damp is lighter than the atmosphere, and always rises to the

upper part of the level. Consequently the man crawls upon the ground

in order to put himself in the best position for breathing. In one

hand he holds a long stick, with a lighted candle fixed at the end.

He pushes the stick to its full length, and creeps along, firing the

gas; and as soon as he has fired it he changes his position, and walks

upright, since the fire-damp is always followed by the choke-damp,

which is heavier than air, and sinks to the bottom.

[Sidenote: THE PENITENT.]

In the French mine this man is called a _penitent_, on account of

his dress resembling that worn by some of the orders of the Catholic

church. His name sometimes would seem to be a cruel jest, as he is

liable to be blown away by an explosion, and never return alive. In

other mines he is called the _cannoneer_, and when the fire-damp kills

him he is said to have died at his post.

LXVIII.

MYSTERIES OF THE GRAND JURY.

SITTING ON A GRAND JURY.—HOW IT IS COMPOSED.—PECULIARITIES

OF MODERN JUSTICE.—HOW TO SELECT BLOCKHEADS.—A DISHONEST

BAGGAGE-MAN.—CHARITY AND MERCY.—AN AFFECTING INCIDENT.—SAVING

A YOUTHFUL OFFENDER.—A GENEROUS WOMAN.—CURIOUS PHASES OF HUMAN

NATURE.—CELT AND AFRICAN.—STORIES OF THE DETECTIVES.—A GARRULOUS

IRISH WOMAN.—FAMILY TROUBLES.—THE HORSE AND CART STORY.—HOW A

PRETTY WOMAN CAPTURED THE JURY.

It was the fortune or misfortune of the writer to be called to sit

on the grand jury of the Court of General Sessions in New York, in

the latter part of the year 1871. Like most of my fellow-men, I had

no great fondness for jury duty, and made efforts to be released.

I was politely informed that there was no escape, and that I had

better do cheerfully what I could not avoid. And so I did it. I sat

on that jury, or rather in a cane-seated chair in the jury-room, for

fifty-eight days, some of them pretty long ones. It was my first

experience of the sort, and I learned more about criminal matters than

I had ever known before. A man who sits a month or two on a grand jury

can have a reasonable excuse for accepting the doctrine of the total

depravity of the human race, or, at all events, of a considerable

portion of it.

[Sidenote: GRAND AND PETIT JURIES.]

What is the difference between a grand jury and a petit jury? To many

persons, and probably to most, this question would be an insoluble

riddle. Everybody who knows anything worth mentioning is aware that

a petit jury, in a criminal court, consists of twelve men, who are

sworn to well and truly judge of the guilt or innocence of the accused

tried before them. They are to weigh the evidence given in open court

in presence of the accused, and when they agree upon a verdict, and

are ready to return it, they stand and look upon the prisoner, who is

instructed to stand and look upon them. To find a verdict, the twelve

must be agreed; and thus it often happens that an obstinate man can

“hang the jury,” and prevent the rendition of a verdict. Obstinacy

may arise from various causes and motives, generally honest, but not

always so. Sometimes the jury is equally divided in opinion—six men

being of one mind, and six of another; sometimes a verdict is the

result of a compromise, which includes a recommendation to mercy,

or a verdict for a lower degree of criminality than is charged in

the indictment. In civil suits, where a question of damages or

compensation arises, the result is often obtained by taking the

figures proposed by each man, adding them together, and dividing the

amount by twelve. But in criminal cases no such system of average

can be employed. Very often the persistence of a single juror will

save an offender from immediate punishment, and allow him a new

trial—which frequently means no new trial, but a discharge on his

own recognizance. And sometimes the obstinate juror attributes to

his comrades the inability to find a verdict. The story of a western

juror is frequently used to point a moral or adorn a tale. “I was all

right,” he says, “and we might have settled the thing straight off, if

the other eleven hadn’t been the most pig-headed fellows you ever saw.”

[Sidenote: DEFECTS OF JURY TRIALS.]

One requirement of the practice in our courts is, that in a criminal

case no member of a petit jury shall have formed an opinion as to the

guilt or innocence of the accused. In cases that have not acquired

notoriety, this does not materially interfere with the selection of a

jury; but in a case that has attracted general attention, like that

of Foster, or the assassins of President Lincoln, several days may be

spent in finding twelve men without opinions. The rule was adopted

long ago, when there was no general diffusion of knowledge, and when

there was no daily chronicle of events accessible to everybody. On a

matter of great importance and general newspaper discussion, it is

next to impossible in these days that an intelligent man should have

no knowledge or opinion; to demand an opinionless jury in such a

case is practically to demand a jury of blockheads. It may well be

doubted whether, in this country of electric telegraphs and lightning

presses, the old practice is the best. The object of trials by jury

is to protect the innocent and punish the guilty. I think I utter the

sentiment of most thinking men, in saying that for my part I would

rather, if wrongfully accused of a crime, be tried before twelve

honest, intelligent men, who believed me guilty, but whose opinion

could be changed by evidence, than before twelve ignorant men who had

formed no opinion about me. But if I were guilty, and desired, as most

criminals desire, to escape justice, I should clamor for a jury of

such of my fellow-men as could not entertain an idea without having it

thrust into their heads with an auger. Many a scoundrel has evaded his

just deserts by means of a jury of “twelve good men and true,” whose

intellects were hardly equal to those of an educated horse.

But a grand jury encounters none of the difficulties that beset a

petit jury. The law requires that it shall be composed of “intelligent

citizens of good character,” who shall be qualified to serve as, and

not exempt as, petit jurors. Their names are selected by lot, the same

as employed for the selection of petit jurors, and each man selected

is notified by the sheriff of the county. A grand jury is composed of

sixteen as the minimum, and twenty-three as the maximum number. Twelve

must concur to find a bill or to dismiss a complaint. No vote can be

taken unless there are sixteen grand jurors present; whether there are

sixteen or twenty-three present, or any number between the minimum

and maximum, there must be, as before stated, twelve to concur in

determining the ordering or rejection of an indictment. Other votes,

such as for adjournment and the like, are taken by majorities, in the

same way as in other deliberative bodies. The accused never appears

before the grand jury, and only one witness can be called into the

room at the same time. The district attorney may be present during an

examination, and at the request of the foreman may conduct it, but he

cannot be present when a vote is being taken.

[Sidenote: ORIGIN OF THE GRAND JURY.]

The grand jury is of Saxon origin, and its existence may be traced as

far back as the tenth century. Its object is one of inquiry rather

than of trial, and for this reason it is frequently called a “grand

inquest.” Under the old practice the grand jury originated inquiry

without the intervention of any public officer, and any citizen was

at liberty to appear before it, state his own wrongs or the offences

of others, or make complaints against public evils of any kind. It

partook of the nature of a legislature or common council, to which

any citizen may submit a petition. Any member of the grand jury who

happened to know or learn of an infraction of the law could lay the

matter before his associates for their action. I am informed by good

legal authority that this is still the practice in England and in

parts of the United States. But the practice of New York, so far as

the city is concerned, has of late been for the grand jury to consider

nothing that was not submitted to it by the district attorney, and

for that official to submit nothing that had not reached him from a

committing magistrate. There is both good and evil in the practice,

and on the whole, much more evil than good. A great many offenders

have gone unwhipped of justice in consequence of this system. Men who

have just cause of complaint against other men high in power have

sought in vain to bring their cases before a committing magistrate,

for the reason that the latter was the friend or dependant of the

accused, and would use his official position to protect him.

Several cases of this kind were brought to my notice while I was

sitting on the grand jury. For example, a man one day came to me

with a request that I would bring to the notice of the grand jury

a certain case which he explained. I asked him why he did not go

before a committing magistrate with it. “Why,” he replied, “because

the committing magistrates are all friends of this man, and would do

anything he wants. He can get any kind of ‘justice’ he desires, and

nobody can do anything against him.” I am satisfied that his opinion

of police magistrates in New York city was not altogether baseless,

and, if I am not mistaken, other testimony could be found to the same

effect. With the reputation or lack of it that belongs to our local

judiciary, it is eminently necessary that all grand juries should be

clothed with the power that makes them grand in quests, and enables

them to investigate any charge of wrong-doing without waiting for its

submission by a police magistrate. I am satisfied that there are many

scoundrels whose career of wickedness would be materially curtailed

if they knew there was full opportunity for their accusers to go

before a grand jury and furnish the proper information for a criminal

indictment.

[Sidenote: WHAT A GRAND JURY DOES.]

The testimony before a grand jury is of an _ex parte_ character.

Blackstone says, “They are only to hear evidence on behalf of the

prosecution. For the finding of an indictment is only in the nature

of an inquiry or accusation, which is afterwards to be tried and

determined; and the grand jury are only to inquire upon their oaths

whether there be sufficient cause to call upon the party to answer

it. A grand jury, however, ought to be thoroughly persuaded of the

truth of an indictment, so far as their evidence goes, and not to

rest satisfied with remote probabilities—a doctrine that might be

applied to very oppressive purposes.” The petit jury gives the accused

the opportunity to sift the _ex parte_ evidence on which he has been

indicted, and of explaining or contradicting it. The general rule for

the guidance of a grand jury is, that they must be as well satisfied

of the guilt of the accused, in order to find an indictment, as they

would be to convict as petit jurors in case none of the evidence

before them was explained or contradicted. It often happens that

complaints are presented of an avaricious or malicious nature, or with

some other motive than the proper enforcement of the law. Such cases

require careful inquiry and cautious action.

Early in the session of the grand jury of which I was an integral

part, a complaint was made against a baggage agent of a steamboat

company for taking money for extra baggage, and neglecting to pay

it over to the authorized agent of the company. At its commencement

the case appeared reasonably clear, but a suspicion arose that the

complaint was malicious, and more evidence was called for. Each

additional witness confirmed the suspicion, and it finally came out

that the principal accuser had long desired the situation of the

accused, and had been appointed to it after the removal of the latter.

Here was a motive in which malice and avarice were evidently the

principal elements, and when the matter was put to a vote the jury

promptly dismissed the bill. The testimony of the complainant was not

fully sustained by that of the other witnesses; and even had there

been no display of malice, the evidence was not sufficient to secure

conviction before a petit jury.

[Sidenote: SECRETS OF THE JURY ROOM.]

I wish to remark, _en passant_, that where I mention cases that were

before us, without giving names and localities, I shall purposely,

in most instances, change the story in such a way that the outside

public cannot trace it, even with a careful research into the records

of the police or other courts. My brother jurors will recognize each

case described, but the veil of secrecy thrown around the grand jury

room will not permit me to be rigidly precise. Great injustice might

be done, in many instances, by a complete revelation, and therefore

the reader must be left in the dark to a certain extent. He may look

upon the cases I give him as exact parallels, and nothing more. When

I say a man was charged with stealing a horse, you may know that

he was charged with stealing something, but whether horse, cow, or

cooking-stove, it is not necessary to explain in describing the work

of the jury. And with this apology for harmless but very necessary

fiction, I proceed.

The Underground World: A mirror of life below the surface · 第 67 / 72 段