THE VAUGHAN PIT.
Among the group of men and boys assembled round the mouth of the Vaughan
pit on the 7th of June were two little lads, Jack Simpson and Harry
Shepherd, who were to make the descent for the first time. The boys were
fast friends. Harry was the taller but was slighter than Jack, and far
less sturdy and strong. Both were glad that they were to go into the
pit, for although the life of a gate-boy is dull and monotonous, yet in
the pit villages the boys look forward to it as marking the first step
in a man's life, as putting school and lessons behind, and as raising
them to a position far in advance of their former associates.
Nowadays the law has stepped in, and the employment of such mere
children in the mines is forbidden, but at that time it had not been
changed, and if a boy was big enough to shut a door he was big enough to
go into a mine.
"Dost feel skeary, Jack?" Harry asked.
"Noa," Jack said; "what be there to be skeary aboot? I bean't afeard of
the dark, and they say in time 'ee get used to it, and can see pretty
nigh loike a cat. There be dad a calling. Good-bye, Harry, I'll see thee
to-night."
The yard of the Vaughan resembled that of other large collieries. It was
a large space, black and grimy, on which lines of rails were laid down
in all directions; on these stood trains of waggons, while here and
there were great piles of coal. In the centre rose up a lofty
scaffolding of massive beams. At the top of this was the wheel over
which a strong wire rope or band ran to the winding engine close by,
while from the other end hung the cage, a wooden box some six feet
square. At the corner of this box were clips or runners which fitted on
to the guides in the shaft and so prevented any motion of swinging or
swaying. So smoothly do these cages work that, standing in one as it is
lowered or drawn up, only a very slight vibration or tremor tells that
you are in motion. Near the square house in which stood the winding
engine was another precisely similar occupied by the pumping engine.
The Vaughan was worked by a single shaft divided by a strong wooden
partition into two, one of these known as the downcast shaft, that is,
the shaft through which the air descends into the mine, the other the
upcast, through which the current, having made its way through all the
windings and turnings of the roadways below, again ascends to the
surface. This system of working by a single shaft, however, is very
dangerous, as, in the event of an explosion, both shafts may become
involved in the disaster and there will be no means of getting at the
imprisoned miners. Nowadays all well-regulated mines have two shafts,
one at a distance from the other, but this was less common thirty years
back, and the Vaughan, like most of its neighbours, was worked with a
single shaft.
Each miner before descending went to the lamp-room and received a
lighted "Davy." As almost every one is aware, the principle of this
lamp, and indeed of all that have since been invented, is that flame
will not pass through a close wire-gauze. The lamp is surrounded with
this gauze, and although, should the air be filled with gas to an
explosive point, it will ignite if it comes in contact with flame, the
gauze prevents the light of the lamp from exploding the gas-charged air
outside. When the air is of a very explosive character even the
Davy-lamps have to be extinguished, as the heat caused by the frequent
ignitions within the lamp raises the gauze to a red heat, and the gas
beyond will take fire.
Jack took his place in the cage with Bill Haden and as many others as it
could contain. He gave a little start as he felt a sudden sinking; the
sides of the shaft seemed to shoot up all round him, wet, shining, and
black. A few seconds and the light of day had vanished, and they were in
darkness, save that overhead was a square blue patch of sky every moment
diminishing in size.
"Be'st afeard, Jack?" Bill Haden asked, raising his lamp so as to get a
sight of the boy's face.
"Noa, why should I?" Jack said; "I heard 'ee say that the ropes were new
last month, so there ain't nothin to be afeard on!"
"That is the young un they call Bull-dog, ain't it, Bill?"
"Ay!" Bill Haden answered; "he's game, he is; you can't make him yelp.
I've licked him till I was tired, but he never whimpered. Now then, out
you go;" and as the cage stopped the men all stepped out and started for
the places in which they were working.
"Coom along, Jack; the viewer told me to put you at No. 10 gate."
It was ten minutes fast--and as Jack thought very unpleasant--walking.
The sleepers on which the rails for the corves, or little waggons, were
laid, were very slippery. Pools of water stood between them and often
covered them, and blocks of coal of all sizes, which had shaken from the
corves, lay in the road. When it was not water it was black mud.
Sometimes a line of waggons full or empty stood on the rails, and to
pass these they had to squeeze against the damp walls. Before he reached
his post the gloss of Jack's new mining clothes had departed for ever.
The white jumper was covered with black smears, and two or three falls
on the slippery wooden sleepers had effectively blackened his canvas
trousers.
"There, lad," Bill Haden said at length, holding his lamp high to
afford a general view of the situation; "that's your place."
"The place" was a hollow like a cupboard, some five feet high, two deep,
and a little wider. There was a wooden seat in it, a peg or two had been
driven into the rock to hang things from, and a handful or so of hay
upon the ground showed that Jack's predecessor had an idea of comfort.
"There you are, and not a bad place either, Jack. You see this cord? Now
when thou hearst a team of corves coming along, pull yon end and open
the door. When they have passed let go the cord and the door shuts o'
'tself, for it's got a weight and pulley. It's thy business to see that
it has shut, for if a chunk of coal has happened to fall and stops the
door from shutting, the ventilation goes wrong and we all goes to
kingdom come in no time. That's all thou'st got to do 'cept to keep
awake. Of course you woan't do that; no boy does. So that you larn to
wake up when the corves come along, that ull do foine."
"But if I doan't?" Jack asked.
"Well, if thou doan't thou'lt get waked with a cuff o' th' ear by the
driver, and it depends on what sort o' chap he be how hard the cuff
thou'lt get. I doan't think thou'lt feel lonely here, for along that
side road they bring down other corves and the horse comes and takes 'em
on. On this main road the horses go through to the upper end of the
mine, half a mile farther."
"How do it make a differ whether this door be open or shut, father?"
"Well, lad, the air comes up the road we ha come by. Now it's wanted to
go round about by the workings on that side road. This door be put to
stop it from going by the straight road, so there's nothing for it but
for to go round by the workings, maybe for a mile, maybe three miles,
till it gets back into the main road again. So when the door is open the
ventilation is checked right round the workings; so mind doan't 'ee open
the door till the horse is close to it, and shut it directly it's past."
When the door closed behind his foster-father, and Jack Simpson remained
alone in the dense darkness, a feeling of utter loneliness and desertion
stole over him. The blackness was intense and absolute; a low confused
murmur, the reverberation of far-off noises in the pit, sounded in his
ears. He spoke, and his voice sounded muffled and dull.
"This be worse nor I looked for," the boy said to himself; "I suppose
I'll get used to it, but I doan't wonder that some young uns who ain't
strong as I be are badly frighted at first."
Presently the confused noise seemed to get louder, then a distinct
rumble was heard, and Jack felt with delight that a train of waggons was
approaching. Then he saw far along the gallery a light swinging, as the
man who bore it walked ahead of the horse. The water in the little pools
between the sleepers reflected it in a score of little lines of light.
Now he could hear the hollow splashing sound of the horses' hoofs, and
prepared to answer to the shout of "door" by pulling at the string
beside him. When the light came within twenty yards it changed its
direction; he heard the grating of the wheels against the points, and
saw that the waggons were going up the other road. There upon a siding
they came to a stop, and a minute or two later a number of full waggons
were brought down by another horse. A few words were exchanged by the
drivers, but Jack's ear, unaccustomed to the echoes of a mine, could not
catch what they said; then the first man hitched his horse on to the
full waggons, and started for the shaft, while the other with the
empties went up the road to the workings.
The incident, slight as it had been, had altogether dissipated the
feeling of uneasiness of which Jack had been conscious. Before, he had
seemed shut out from the world, as if within a living tomb, but the
sight of men engaged at their ordinary work close by him completely
restored the balance of his mind, and henceforth he never felt the
slightest discomfort at being alone in the dark.
A few minutes after the rumbling of the departing train of "tubs" had
died in his ear, he again heard it. Again he watched the slowly
approaching light, and when it came within a few yards of him he heard
the expected shout of "Gate!" He replied by a shout of "All right!" and
as the driver came level with him pulled the cord and the door opened.
"G'long, Smiler," the driver said, and the horse went forward. The man
leaned forward and raised his lamp to Jack's face.
"I thawt 'twasn't Jim Brown's voice. Who be'st thou?"
"Jack Simpson; I live along wi' Bill Haden."
"Ay, ay, I know'st, I knew thy father, a good sort he was too. Be'st thy
first day doon the pit?"
"Ay," Jack said.
"Foind it dark and lonesome, eh? Thou'lt get used to it soon."
"How often do the corves come along?" Jack asked as the man prepared to
run on after the waggons, the last of which had just passed.
"There be a set goes out every ten minutes, maybe, on this road, and
every twenty minutes on the other, two o' ours to one o' theirs;" and he
moved forward.
Jack let the door slam after him, went out and felt that it had shut
firmly, and then resumed his seat in his niche. He whistled for a bit,
and then his thoughts turned to the learning which he had determined
firmly to acquire.
"I wish I'd ha' took to it afore," he said to himself. "What a sight o'
time I ha' lost! I'll go over in my head all the lessons I can remember;
and them as I doant know, and that's the best part, I reckon I'll look
up when I get hoame. Every day what I learns fresh I'll go over down
here. I shall get it perfect then, and it will pass the time away
finely. I'll begin at oncet. Twice two is four;" and so Jack passed the
hours of his first day in the pit, recalling his lessons, reproaching
himself continually and bitterly with the time he had wasted, breaking
off every ten minutes from his rehearsals to open the door for the train
of corves going in empty and going out full, exchanging a few words each
time with the drivers, all of whom were good-naturedly anxious to cheer
up the new boy, who must, as they supposed, be feeling the loneliness of
his first day in the pit keenly. Such was by no means the case with
Jack, and he was quite taken by surprise when a driver said to him,
"This be the last train this shift."
"Why, it bean't nigh two o'clock, surely?" he said.
"It be," the driver said; "wants ten minutes, that's all."
Soon the miners began to come along.
"Hullo, Jack!" Bill Haden's voice said. "Be'st still here. Come along of
me. Why didst stop, lad? Thou canst always quit thy post when the first
man comes through on his way out. Hast felt it lonely, lad?"
"Not a bit, dad."
"That's strange too," Bill said. "Most young boys finds it awful lonely
o' first. I know I thowt that first day were never coming to an end.
Weren't frighted at t' dark?"
"I thought it was onnatural dark and still the first ten minutes," Jack
admitted honestly; "but arter the first set o' corves came along I never
thawt no more about the dark."
"Here we are at the shaft, joomp in, there's just room for you and me."