RESCUED.
A stranger arriving at Stokebridge on that Sunday morning might have
thought that a fair or some similar festivity was going on, so great was
the number of people who passed out of the station as each train came
in. For the day Stokebridge was the great point of attraction for
excursionists from all parts of Staffordshire. Not that there was
anything to see. The Vaughan mine looked still and deserted; no smoke
issued from its chimneys; and a strong body of police kept all, except
those who had business there, from approaching within a certain distance
of the shaft. Still less was there to see in Stokebridge itself. Every
blind was down--for scarce a house but had lost at least one of its
members; and in the darkened room women sat, silently weeping for the
dead far below.
For the last four days work had been entirely suspended through the
district; and the men of the other collieries, as well as those of the
Vaughan who, belonging to the other shift, had escaped, hung about the
pit yard, in the vague hope of being able in some way to be useful.
Within an hour of the explosion the managers of the surrounding pits had
assembled; and in spite of the fact that the three volunteers who had
first descended were, without doubt, killed, plenty of other brave
fellows volunteered their services, and would have gone down if
permitted. But the repeated explosions, and the fact that the lower part
of the shaft was now blocked up, decided the experienced men who had
assembled that such a course would be madness--an opinion which was
thoroughly endorsed by Mr. Hardinge and other government inspectors and
mining authorities, who arrived within a few hours of the accident.
It was unanimously agreed that the pit was on fire, for a light smoke
curled up from the pit mouth, and some already began to whisper that it
would have to be closed up. There are few things more painful than to
come to the conclusion that nothing can be done, when women, half mad
with sorrow and anxiety, are imploring men to make an effort to save
those below.
Jane Haden, quiet and tearless, sat gazing at the fatal shaft, when she
was touched on the shoulder. She looked up, and saw Harry.
"Thou art not down with them then, Harry?"
"No; I almost wish I was," Harry said. "I came up with Jack, and hurried
away to get breakfast. When I heard the blow I ran up, and found Jack
had just gone down. If I had only been near I might have gone with
him;" and the young man spoke in regret at not having shared his
friend's fate rather than in gladness at his own escape.
"Dost think there's any hope, Harry?"
"It's no use lying, and there's no hope for Jack, mother," Harry said;
"but if any one's saved it's like to be your Bill. He was up in the old
workings, a long way off from the part where the strength of the blow
would come."
"It's no use telling me, Harry; I ask, but I know how it is. There ain't
a chance--not a chance at all. If the pit's afire they'll have to flood
it, and then it will be weeks before they pump it out again; and when
they bring Jack and Bill up I sha'n't know 'em. That's what I feel, I
sha'n't even know 'em."
"Don't wait here, Mrs. Haden; nought can be done now; the inspectors and
managers will meet this evening, and consult what is best to be done."
"Is your father down, Harry? I can't think of aught but my own, or I'd
have asked afore."
"No; he is in the other shift. My brother Willy is down. Come, mother,
let me take you home."
But Mrs. Haden would not move, but sat with scores of other women,
watching the mouth of the pit, and the smoke curling up, till night
fell.
The news spread round Stokebridge late in the evening that the managers
had determined to shut up the mouth of the pit, if there was still smoke
in the morning. Then, as is always the case when such a determination
is arrived at, there was a cry of grief and anger throughout the
village, and all who had friends below protested that it would be
nothing short of murder to cut off the supply of air. Women went down to
the inn where the meeting was held, and raved like wild creatures; but
the miners of the district could not but own the step was necessary, for
that the only chance to extinguish the fire was by cutting off the air,
unless the dreadful alternative of drowning the pit was resorted to.
In the morning the smoke still curled up, and the pit's mouth was
closed. Boards were placed over both the shafts, and earth was heaped
upon them, so as to cut off altogether the supply of air, and so stifle
the fire. This was on Thursday morning. Nothing was done on Friday; and
on Saturday afternoon the mining authorities met again in council. There
were experts there now from all parts of the kingdom--for the extent of
the catastrophe had sent a thrill of horror through the land. It was
agreed that the earth and staging should be removed next morning early,
and that if smoke still came up, water should be turned in from the
canal.
At six in the morning a number of the leading authorities met at the
mine. Men had during the night removed the greater part of the earth,
and the rest was now taken off, and the planks withdrawn. At once a
volume of smoke poured out. This was in any case expected; and it was
not for another half-hour, when the accumulated smoke had cleared off,
and a straight but unbroken column began to rise as before, that the
conviction that the pit was still on fire seized all present.
"I fear that there is no alternative," Mr. Hardinge said; "the pit must
be flooded."
There was not a dissentient voice; and the party moved towards the canal
to see what would be the best method of letting in the water, when a cry
from the men standing round caused them to turn, and they saw a dense
white column rise from the shaft.
"Steam!" every one cried in astonishment.
A low rumbling sound came from the pit.
"What can have happened?" Mr. Hardinge exclaimed, in surprise. "This is
most extraordinary!"
All crowded round the pit mouth, and could distinctly hear a distant
roaring sound. Presently this died away. Gradually the steam ceased to
rise, and the air above the pit mouth was clear.
"There is no smoke rising," one of the inspectors said. "What on earth
can have happened? Let us lower a light down."
Hoisting gear and rope had been prepared on the first day, in case it
should be necessary to lower any one, for the wire rope had snapped when
the attempt had been made to draw up the cage after the second
explosion, and the sudden release from the strain had caused the engine
to fly round, breaking some gear, and for the time disabling it from
further work. A hundred and forty fathoms of rope, the depth of the
shaft being a hundred and twenty, had been prepared, and was in
readiness to be passed over a pulley suspended above the shaft. A
lighted candle in a candlestick was placed on a sort of tray, which was
fastened to the rope, and then it was lowered gradually down. Eagerly
those above watched it as it descended--down--down, till it became a
mere speck below. Then it suddenly disappeared.
"Stop," Mr. Hardinge, who was directing the operations, said.
"There are six more fathoms yet, sir--nigh seven--before it gets to the
hundred-and-twenty fathom mark."
"Draw up carefully, lads. What can have put the light out forty feet
from the bottom of the shaft? Choke-damp, I suppose; but it's very
singular."
When the candle came up to the surface there was a cry of astonishment;
the tray and the candle were wet! The whole of those present were
astounded, and Mr. Hardinge at once determined to descend himself and
verify this extraordinary occurrence. There was no fear of an explosion
now. Taking a miner's lamp, he took his seat in a sling, and was lowered
down. Just before the rope had run out to the point at which the light
was extinguished he gave the signal to stop by jerking a thin rope which
he held in his hands.
There was a pause, and in a minute or two came two jerks, the signal to
haul up.
"It is so," he said, when he gained the surface; "there are forty feet
of water in the shaft, but where it came from is more than I can tell."
Much astonished at this singular occurrence, the group of mining
engineers walked back to breakfast at Stokebridge, where the population
were greatly excited at the news that the pit was flooded. To the miners
it was a subject of the greatest surprise, while the friends of those in
the pit received the news as the death-blow of their last hopes. It was
now impossible that any one could be alive in the pit.
At ten o'clock the mining authorities went again to discuss the curious
phenomenon. All agreed that it was out of the question that so large a
quantity of water had accumulated in any old workings, for the plan of
the pit had been repeatedly inspected by them all. Some inclined to the
belief that there must have been some immense natural cavern above the
workings, and that when the fire in the pit burned away the pillars left
to support the roof, this must have fallen in, and let the water in the
cavern into the mine; others pointed out that there was no example
whatever of a cavern of such dimensions as this must have been, being
found in the coal formation, and pointed to the worked-out Logan pit,
which was known to be full of water, as the probable source of supply.
During the previous four days the plan had been discussed of cutting
through from the Logan, which was known to have been worked nearly up to
the Vaughan boundary. This would enable them to enter the pit and
rescue any miners who might be alive, but the fact that to erect
pumping gear and get out the water would be an affair of many weeks, if
not months, had caused the idea to be abandoned as soon as broached. To
those who argued that the water had come from the Logan, it was pointed
out that there were certainly several yards of solid coal between the
Vaughan and the Logan still standing, and that as the force of the
explosion was evidently near the Vaughan shaft it was incredible that
this barrier between the pits should have been shattered. However, it
was decided to solve the question one way or the other by an immediate
visit to the top of the old Logan shaft.
They were just starting when they heard a movement in the street, and
men setting off to run. A moment later a miner entered the room
hurriedly. "There be a big smoke coming up from the old Logan shaft; it
be too light for coal smoke, and I don't think it be steam either."
With exclamations of surprise the whole party seized their hats and
hurried off. It was twenty minutes' sharp walking to the shaft, where,
by the time they reached it, a large crowd of miners and others were
already assembled. As they approached, eager men ran forward to meet
them.
"It be gunpowder smoke, sir!"
There was indeed no mistaking the sulphurous smell.
"It's one of two things," Mr. Hardinge said; "either the fire has spread
to the upper workings, some powder bags have exploded, and the shock
has brought down the dividing wall, in which case the powder smoke might
possibly find its way out when the water from the Logan drained in; or
else, in some miraculous way some of the men have made their escape, and
are letting off powder to call our attention. At any rate let us drop a
small stone or two down. If any one be below he will know he is
noticed." Then he turned to the miners standing round: "I want the
pulley and rope that we were using at the Vaughan, and that small cage
that was put together to work with it. I want two or three strong poles,
to form a tripod over the pit here, and a few long planks to make a
stage."
Fifty willing men hurried off to fetch the required materials.
"The smoke is getting thinner, a good deal," one of the managers said.
"Now if you'll hold me, I will give a shout down."
The mouth of the pit was surrounded by a wooden fencing, to prevent any
one from falling down it. The speaker got over this and lay down on his
face, working nearer to the edge, which sloped dangerously down, while
others, following in the same way, held his legs, and were in their turn
held by others. When his head and shoulders were fairly over the pit he
gave a loud shout.
There was a death-like silence on the part of the crowd standing round,
and all of those close could hear a faint murmur come from below.
Then arose a cheer, echoed again and again, and then half-a-dozen
fleet-footed boys started for Stokebridge with the news that some of the
imprisoned pitmen were still alive.
Mr. Hardinge wrote on a piece of paper, "Keep up your courage; in an
hour's time the cage will come down;" wrapped it round a stone, and
dropped it down. A messenger was despatched to the Vaughan, for the
police force stationed there to come up at once to keep back the excited
crowd, and with orders that the stretchers and blankets in readiness
should be brought on; while another went into Stokebridge for a surgeon,
and for a supply of wine, brandy, and food, and two or three vehicles.
No sooner were the men sent off than Mr. Hardinge said, in a loud tone:
"Every moment must be of consequence; they must be starving. Will any
one here who has food give it for them?"
The word was passed through the crowd, and a score of picnic baskets
were at once offered. Filling one of them full with sandwiches from the
rest, Mr. Hardinge tied the lid securely on, and threw it down the
shaft. "There is no fear of their standing under the shaft," he said;
"they will know we shall be working here, and that stones might fall."
In less than an hour, thanks to the willing work of many hands, a
platform was constructed across the mouth of the Logan shaft, and a
tripod of strong poles fixed in its place. The police kept the crowd, by
this time very many thousands strong, back in a wide circle round the
shaft, none being allowed inside save those who had near relatives in
the Vaughan. These were for the most part women, who had rushed wildly
up without bonnets or shawls--just as they stood when the report reached
them that there were yet some survivors of the explosion. At full speed
they had hurried along the road--some pale and still despairing,
refusing to allow hope to rise again, but unable to stay away from the
fatal pit; others crying as they ran; some even laughing in hysterical
excitement. Most excited, because most hopeful, were those whose
husbands had stalls in the old workings, for it had from the first been
believed that while all in the main workings were probably killed at
once by the first explosion, those in the old workings might have
survived for days.
Jane Haden walked steadily along the road, accompanied by Harry
Shepherd, who had brought her the news, and by Nelly Hardy.
"I will go," she said, "but it is of no use; they are both gone, and I
shall never see them again."
Then she had put on her bonnet and shawl, deliberately and slowly, and
had started at her ordinary pace, protesting all along against its being
supposed that she entertained the slightest hope; but when she neared
the spot, her quivering lips and twitching fingers belied her words.
Nelly remained outside the crowd, but Harry made a way for Jane Haden
through the outside circle of spectators.
A smaller circle, of some thirty yards in diameter, was kept round the
shaft, and within this only those directing the operations were allowed
to enter. Mr. Hardinge and one of the local managers took their places
in the cage. The rope was held by twenty men, who at first stood at its
full length from the shaft, and then advanced at a walk towards it, thus
allowing the cage to descend steadily and easily, without jerks. As they
came close to the shaft the signal rope was shaken; another step or two,
slowly and carefully taken, and the rope was seen to sway slightly. The
cage was at the bottom of the shaft. Three minutes' pause, the signal
rope shook, and the men with the end of the rope, started again to walk
from the shaft.
As they increased their distance, the excitement in the great crowd
grew; and when the cage showed above the surface, and it was seen that
it contained three miners, a hoarse cheer arose. The men were assisted
from the cage, and surrounded for a moment by those in authority; and
one of the head men raised his hand for silence, and then shouted:
"Mr. Brook and twenty others are saved!" An announcement which was
received with another and even more hearty cheer.
[Illustration: SAVED!]
Passing on, the rescued men moved forward to where the women stood,
anxiously gazing. Blackened as they were with coal-dust, they were
recognizable, and with wild screams of joy three women burst from the
rest and threw themselves in their arms. But only for a moment could
they indulge in this burst of happiness, for the other women crowded
round.
"Who is alive? For God's sake tell us! who is alive?"
Then one by one the names were told, each greeted with cries of joy,
till the last name was spoken; and then came a burst of wailing and
lamentation from those who had listened in vain for the names of those
they loved.
Jane Haden had not risen from the seat she had taken on a block of
broken brickwork.
"No, no!" she said to Harry; "I will not hope! I will not hope!" and
while Harry moved closer to the group, to hear the names of the saved,
she sat with her face buried in her hands.
The very first names given were those of Jack Simpson and Bill Haden,
and with a shout of joy he rushed back. The step told its tale, and Jane
Haden looked up, rose as if with a hidden spring, and looked at him.
"Both saved!" he exclaimed; and with a strange cry Jane Haden swayed,
and fell insensible.
An hour later, and the last survivor of those who were below in the
Vaughan pit stood on the surface, the last cage load being Mr. Brook,
Jack Simpson, and Mr. Hardinge. By this time the mourners had left the
scene, and there was nothing to check the delight felt at the recovery
from the tomb, as it was considered, of so many of those deemed lost.
When Mr. Brook--who was a popular employer, and whose popularity was
now increased by his having, although involuntarily, shared the dangers
of his men--stepped from the cage, the enthusiasm was tremendous. The
crowd broke the cordon of police and rushed forward, cheering loudly.
Mr. Hardinge, after a minute or two, held up his hand for silence, and
helped Mr. Brook on to a heap of stones. Although Mr. Brook, as well as
the rest, had already recovered much, thanks to the basket of food
thrown down to them, and to the supply of weak brandy and water, and of
soup, which those who had first descended had carried with them, he was
yet so weakened by his long fast that he was unable to speak. He could
only wave his hand in token of his thanks, and sobs of emotion choked
his words. Mr. Hardinge, however, who had, during the hour below,
learned all that had taken place, and had spoken for some time apart
with Mr. Brook, now stood up beside him.
"My friends," he said, in a loud clear voice, which was heard over the
whole crowd, "Mr. Brook is too much shaken by what he has gone through
to speak, but he desires me to thank you most heartily in his name for
your kind greeting. He wishes to say that, under God, his life, and the
lives of those with him, have been saved by the skill, courage, and
science of his under-viewer, Jack Simpson. Mr. Brook has consulted me on
the subject, and I thoroughly agree with what he intends to do, and can
certify to Jack Simpson's ability, young as he is, to fill any post to
which he may be appointed. In a short time I hope that the Vaughan pit
will be pumped out and at work again, and when it is, Mr. Jack Simpson
will be its manager!"
The story of the escape from death had already been told briefly by the
miners as they came to the surface, and had passed from mouth to mouth
among the crowd, and Mr. Hardinge's announcement was greeted with a
storm of enthusiasm. Jack was seized by a score of sturdy pitmen, and
would have been carried in triumph, were it not that the startling
announcement, coming after such a long and intense strain, proved too
much for him, and he fainted in the arms of his admirers.