Botallack, to the dark depths of which we are now about to descend, is
the most celebrated mine in the great mining county of Cornwall. It
stands on the sea coast, a little more than a mile to the north of St.
Just. The region around it is somewhat bleak and almost destitute of
trees. In approaching it, the eyes of the traveller are presented with
a view of engine-houses, and piles of stones and rubbish, in the midst
of which stand a number of uncouth yet picturesque objects, composed of
boards and timber, wheels, ropes, pulleys, chains, and suchlike gear.
These last are the winding erections of the shafts which lead to the
various mines, for the whole region is undermined, and Botallack is only
one of several in St. Just parish. Wherever the eye turns, there, in
the midst of green fields, where rocks and rocky fences abound, may be
seen, rising prominently, the labouring arms, or "bobs," of the pump and
skip engines, and the other machinery required in mining operations;
while the ear is assailed by the perpetual clatter of the "stamps," or
ore-crushing machines, which never cease their din, day or night, except
on Sundays.
Botallack, like all the other mines, has several "shafts" or entrances
to the works below, such as Boscawen Shaft, Wheal Button, Wheal Hazard,
Chicornish Shaft, Davis Shaft, Wheal Cock, etcetera, the most
interesting of which are situated among the steep rugged cliffs that
front and bid defiance to the utmost fury of the Atlantic Ocean.
From whatever point viewed, the aspect of Botallack mine is grand in the
extreme. On the rocky point that stretches out into the sea, engines
with all their fantastic machinery and buildings have been erected. On
the very summit of the cliff is seen a complication of timbers, wheels,
and chains sharply defined against the sky, with apparently scarce any
hold of the cliff, while down below, on rocky ledges and in black
chasms, are other engines and beams and rods and wheels and chains,
fastened and perched in fantastic forms in dangerous-looking places.
Here, amid the most savage gorges of the sea and riven rocks--half
clinging to the land, half suspended over the water--is perched the
machinery of, and entrance to, the most singular shaft of the mine,
named the "Boscawen Diagonal Shaft." This shaft descends under the sea
at a steep incline. It is traversed, on rails, by an iron carriage
called the "gig," which is lowered and drawn up by steam power.
Starting as it does from an elevated position in the rocks that are
close to the edge of the sea, and slanting down through the cape,
_outward_ or seaward, this vehicle descends only a few fathoms when it
is _under the ocean's bed_, and then its further course is far out and
deep down--about two-thirds of a mile out, and full 245 fathoms down!
The gig conveys the men to and from their work--the ore being drawn up
by another iron carriage. There is (or rather there was, before the
self-acting brake was added) danger attending the descent of this shaft,
for the rope, although good and strong, is not immaculate, as was proved
terribly in the year 1864--when it broke, and the gig flew down to the
bottom like lightning, dashing itself to pieces, and instantly killing
the nine unfortunate men who were descending at the time.
Nevertheless, the Prince and Princess of Wales did not shrink from
descending this deep burrow under the sea in the year 1865.
It was a great day for St. Just and Botallack that 24th of July on which
the royal visit was paid. Great were the expectation and preparation on
all hands to give a hearty welcome to the royal pair. The ladies
arrayed themselves in their best to do fitting honour to the Princess;
the balmaidens donned their holiday-attire, and Johnny Fortnight [see
note 1] took care, by supplying the poor mine-girls with the latest
fashions, that their appearance should be, if we may be allowed the
word, _splendiferous_! The volunteers, too, turned out in force, and no
one, looking at their trim, soldierly aspect, could have believed them
to be the same miners who were wont to emerge each evening through a
hole in the earth, red as lobsters, wet, ragged, and befouled--in a
word, surrounded by a halo of dishevelment, indicative of their rugged
toils in the regions below.
Everywhere the people turned out to line the roads, and worthily receive
the expected visitors, and great was the cheering when they arrived,
accompanied by the Duke and Duchess of Sutherland, the Earl of Mount
Edgecumbe, Lady de Grey, Lord and Lady Vivian, General Knollys, and
others, but louder still was the cheer when the Princess rode down the
steep descent to the cliffs in a donkey-carriage.
The Botallack cliffs themselves, however, were the central point, not
only of the interest, but of the grandeur of the scene, for here were
presented such a view and combination as are not often witnessed--nature
in one of her wildest aspects, combined with innumerable multitudes of
human beings swayed by one feeling of enthusiastic loyalty. Above, on
every attainable point, projection, and eminence, men and women
clustered like gay flies on the giant cliffs, leaving immense gaps here
and there, where no foot might venture save that of a bird. Midway, on
the face of the precipice, clung the great beams and supports of the
Boscawen Diagonal Shaft, with the little gig perched on them and the
royal party seated therein, facing the entrance to the black abyss--the
Princess arrayed in a white flannel cloak trimmed with blue, and a straw
hat with a blue ribbon round it, and the Prince clad in miner's costume.
Underneath, a dizzy depth to gaze down, lay the rugged boulders of the
shore, with the spray of the Atlantic springing over them.
Deafening was the cheer when the gig at last entered the shaft and
disappeared, and intense the anxiety of the vast multitude as they
watched the descent--in imagination, of course, for nothing could be
seen but the tight wire-rope uncoiling its endless length, and
disappearing like a thin snake down the jaws of some awful sea-monster
that had climbed so far up the cliffs to meet and devour it! Now they
are at the shore; now passing under the sea; fairly under it by this
time; a few minutes more and they have reached the spot where yonder
seagull is now wheeling above the waves, wondering what new species of
bird has taken possession of its native cliffs. Five minutes are
passed--yet still descending rapidly! They must be half a mile out from
the land now--half of a mile out on the first part of a submarine tunnel
to America! "Old England is on the lee," but they are very much the
reverse of afloat; solid rock is above, on either side and below--so
close to them that the elbows must not be allowed to protrude over the
edge of their car, nor the head be held too high. Here even royalty
must stoop--not that we would be understood to imply that royalty cannot
stoop elsewhere. Those who dwell in Highland cottages could contradict
us if we did! Presently the rope "slows"--the lower depths are reached,
and now for some time there is patient waiting, for it is understood
that they are examining the "levels," where the stout men of Cornwall
tear out the solid rock in quest of copper and tin.
After a time the thin snake begins to ascend; they are coming up now,
but not so fast as they went down. It is about ten minutes before the
gig emerges from that black hole and bears the Prince and Princess once
more into the light of day.
Yes, it was a great day for Botallack, and it will dwell long in the
memories of those who witnessed it--especially of that fortunate captain
of the mine who had the honour of conducting the Princess on the
occasion, and of whose enthusiasm in recalling the event, and in
commenting on her intelligence and condescension, we can speak from
personal observation.
But, reader, you will say, What has all this to do with our story?
Nothing--we admit it frankly--nothing whatever in a direct way;
nevertheless, indirectly, the narrative may possibly arouse in you
greater interest in the mine down which we are about to conduct you--not
by the same route as that taken by the Prince and Princess (for the
Boscawen Shaft did not exist at the period of our tale), but by one much
more difficult and dangerous, as you shall see.
Before we go, however, permit us to add to the offence of digression, by
wandering still further out of our direct road. There are a few facts
regarding Botallack and mining operations, without a knowledge of which
you will be apt at times to misunderstand your position.
Let us suppose that a mine has been already opened; that a "lode"--that
is, a vein of quartz with metal in it--has been discovered cropping out
of the earth, and that it has been dug down upon from above, and dug in
upon from the sea-cliffs. A shaft has been sunk--in other words, a hole
excavated--let us say, two or three hundred yards inland, to a depth of
some forty or fifty fathoms,--near the sea-level. This shaft is perhaps
nine feet by six wide. The lode, being a layer of quartz, sometimes
slopes one way, sometimes another, and is occasionally perpendicular.
It also varies in its run or direction a little here and there, like a
wildish horse, being sometimes met by other lodes, which, like bad
companions, divert it from the straight course. Unlike bad companions,
however, they increase its value at the point of meeting by thickening
it. Whatever course the lode takes, the miner conscientiously follows
suit. His shaft slopes much, little, or not at all, according to the
"lie of the lode."
It is an ancient truism that water must find its level. Owing to this
law, much water accumulates in the shaft, obliging the miner to erect an
engine-house and provide a powerful pumping-engine with all its gear, at
immense cost, to keep the works dry as he proceeds. He then goes to the
shore, and there, in the face of the perpendicular cliff, a little above
the sea-level, he cuts a horizontal tunnel about six feet high by three
broad, and continues to chisel and blast away the solid rock until he
"drives" his tunnel a quarter of a mile inland, which he will do at a
rate varying from two to six feet per week, according to the hardness of
the rock, until he reaches the shaft and thus provides an easy and
inexpensive passage for the water without pumping. This tunnel or level
he calls the "Adit level." But his pumping-engine is by no means
rendered useless, for it has much to do in hauling ore to the surface,
etcetera. In process of time, the miner works away all the lode down to
the sea-level, and must sink the shaft deeper--perhaps ten or twenty
fathoms--where new levels are driven horizontally "on the lode," and
water accumulates which must be pumped up to the Adit level, whence it
escapes to the sea.
Thus down, down, he goes, sinking his shaft and driving his levels on--
that is, always following the lode _ad infinitum_. Of course he must
stop before reaching the other side of the world! At the present time
Botallack has progressed in that direction to a depth of 245 fathoms.
To those who find a difficulty in realising what depth that really is,
we would observe that it is equal to more than three and a half times
the height of St. Paul's Cathedral in London, nearly four times the
height of St. Rollox chimney in Glasgow, and considerably more than
twice the height, from the plain, of Arthur's Seat, near Edinburgh.
When the levels have been driven a considerable distance from the shaft,
the air naturally becomes bad from want of circulation. To remedy this
evil, holes, or short shafts, called "winzes," are sunk at intervals
from the upper to the lower levels. These winzes are dangerous traps
for the unwary or careless, extending frequently to a depth of ten or
fifteen fathoms, and being bridged across by one or two loose planks.
Ladders are fixed in many of them to facilitate progress through the
mine. When a miner drives the end of his level so far that the air will
not circulate, a new winze is usually sunk down to him from the level
above. The circulation is thus extended, and the levels progress
further and further right and left until they occupy miles of ground.
The levels and shafts of Botallack, if put together, would extend to not
less than forty miles, and the superficial space of ground, on and
beneath which the mine lies, is above 260 acres.
When the lode is rich, and extends upwards or downwards, it is cut away
from between levels, in a regular systematic manner, strong beams being
placed to support temporary platforms, on which the miners may stand and
work as they ascend. When they have cut all the lode away up to the
level above them, a false timber bottom is made to replace the rocky
bottom of the level which is being removed. Thus, in traversing the old
workings of a mine one suddenly comes to great caverns, very narrow, but
of such immense height above and depth below that the rays of your
candle cannot penetrate the darkness. In such places the thick short
beams that were used by the old miners are seen extending from side to
side of the empty space, disappearing in dim perspective. Woe betide
the man who stumbles off his narrow plank, or sets his foot on an
insecure beam in such places! Where such workings are in progress, the
positions of the miners appear singularly wild and insecure. The men
stand in the narrow chasm between the granite walls above each others'
heads, slight temporary platforms alone preserving them from certain
death, and the candles of those highest above you twinkling like stars
in a black sky.
In these underground regions of Botallack, above three hundred men and
boys are employed, some of whom work occasionally by night as well as by
day. On the surface about two hundred men, women, and boys are employed
"dressing" the ore, etcetera.
Other mines there are in the great mining centres of Cornwall--Redruth,
St. Just, St. Austell, and Helston, which are well worthy of note--some
of them a little deeper, and some richer than Botallack. But we profess
not to treat of all the Cornish mines; our object is to describe one as
a type of many, if not all, and as this one runs farthest out beneath
the sea, is deeper than most of the others, and richer than many,
besides having interesting associations, and being of venerable
antiquity, we hold it to be the one most worthy of selection.
With a few briefly stated facts we shall take final leave of statistics.
As we have said, the Boscawen shaft measures 245 fathoms. The
ladder-way by which the men ascend and descend daily extends to 205
fathoms. It takes a man half an hour to reach the bottom, and fully an
hour to climb to the surface. There are three pumping and seven winding
engines at work--the largest being of 70 horse-power. The tin raised is
from 33 to 35 tons a month. The price of tin has varied from 55 pounds
to 90 pounds per ton. In time past, when Botallack was more of a copper
than a tin-mine, a fathom has been known to yield 100 pounds worth of
ore, and a miner has sometimes broken out as much as 300 pounds worth in
one month.
The mine has been worked from time immemorial. It is known to have been
wrought a hundred years before it was taken by the present company, who
have had it between thirty and forty years, and, under the able
direction of the present manager and purser, Mr Stephen Harvey James,
it has paid the shareholders more than 100,000 pounds. The profit in
the year 1844 was 24,000 pounds. At the termination of one period of
working it left a profit of 300,000 pounds. It has experienced many
vicissitudes of fortune. Formerly it was worked for tin, and at one
period (1841) was doing so badly that it was about to be abandoned, when
an unlooked for discovery of copper was made, and a period of great
prosperity again set in, during which many shareholders and miners made
their fortunes out of Botallack.
Thus much, with a humble apology, we present to the reader, and now
resume the thread of our narrative.
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Note 1. The packmen are so styled because of their visits being paid
fortnightly.