True to their appointment, young Tregarthen and Oliver Trembath met at
the western end of the town of Penzance, close to the sea-beach, where a
mass of buildings and a chimney indicated the position of the Wherry
Mine.
Oliver's countenance betrayed anxiety as he came forward.
"Nothing wrong, I hope?" said Tregarthen.
"Well, I can't say exactly that things are wrong; but, at the same time,
I don't know that they are altogether right."
"Much the same thing," said Tregarthen, smiling; "come, Oliver, unbosom
yourself, as novelists say. It will do you good, and two heads, you
know, are better than one."
"It's not easy to unbosom myself, old fellow," returned Oliver, with a
troubled look; "for my poor uncle's affairs are in a perplexed
condition, and I hate explanations, especially when I don't understand
the nature of what I attempt to explain, so we'll not talk about it,
please, till after our visit to the mine. Let it suffice to say that
that notorious smuggler Jim Cuttance is concerned in it, and that we
must go to Newlyn this afternoon on a piece of business which I shall
afterwards disclose. Meanwhile, where is this mine?"
"Lift up your eyes and behold," said Tregarthen, pointing to an object
which was surrounded by the sea, and stood above two hundred yards from
the beach.
"What! that martello-tower-like object?" exclaimed Oliver in much
surprise.
"Even so," replied Tregarthen, who thereupon proceeded to give his
friend a history and description of the mine--of which the following is
the substance:--
At the western extremity of the sea-beach at Penzance there is a reef of
sunken rocks which shows its black crest above water at low tide. It
was discovered that this reef contained tin, and the people of the town
attacked it with hammers and chisels, when each receding tide left it
exposed, as long as the seasons would permit, until the depth became
unmanageable. After having been excavated a few fathoms the work was
abandoned.
Fortunately for the progress of this world there exist a few
enterprising men whom nothing can discourage, who seem to be spurred on
by opposition, and to gather additional vigour and resolution from
increasing difficulties. These men are not numerous, but the world is
seldom without a few of them; and one made his appearance in Penzance
about the end of last century, in the person of a poor miner named
Thomas Curtis. This man conceived the bold design of sinking a shaft
through this water-covered rock, and thus creating a mine not only
_under_, but _in_ the sea.
With the energy peculiar to his class he set to work. The distance of
the rock from the beach was about two hundred and forty yards; the depth
of water above it at spring tides about nineteen feet. Being exposed to
the open sea, a considerable surf is raised on it at times by the
prevailing winds, even in summer; while in winter the sea bursts over
with such force as to render all operations on it impossible.
That Curtis was a man of no common force of character is obvious from
the fact that, apart from the difficulties of the undertaking, he could
not expect to derive any profit whatever from his labour for several
years. As the work could only be carried on during the short period of
time in which the rock was above water, and part of this brief period
must necessarily be consumed each tide in pumping out the water in the
excavation, it of course progressed slowly. Three summers were consumed
in sinking the pump-shaft. After this a framework, or caisson, of stout
timber and boards, was built round the mouth of the shaft, and rendered
watertight with pitch and oakum. It rose to a height of about twelve
feet above the surface of the sea, and was strengthened and supported by
stout bars, or buttresses of timber. A platform was placed on the top,
and a windlass, at which four men could work, was fixed thereon. This
erection was connected with the shore by a stage or "wherry" erected on
piles. The water was cleared out; the men went "underground," and, with
the sea rolling over their heads, and lashing wildly round the turret
which was their only safeguard from terrible and instant destruction,
they hewed daily from the submarine rock a considerable portion of tin.
These first workers, however, had committed an error in carrying on
their operations too near the surface, so that water permeated freely
through the rock, and the risk of the pressure above being too great,
for it rendered the introduction of immense supporting timbers
necessary. The water, too, forced its way through the shaft during the
winter months, so that the regular working of the mine could not be
carried on except in summer; nevertheless, this short interval was
sufficient to enable the projector to raise so much ore that his mine
got the reputation of being a profitable adventure, and it was wrought
successfully for many years.
About the end of the century the depth of the pump-shaft was about four
fathoms, and the roof had been cut away to the thinness of three feet in
some places. Twelve men were employed for two hours at the windlass in
hauling the water, while six others were "teaming" from the bottom into
the pump. When sufficient water had been cleared away the men laboured
at the rock for six hours--in all, eight hours at a time. The prolific
nature of the mine may be gathered from the fact that in the space of
six months ten men, working about one tenth of that time--less than
three weeks--broke about 600 pounds worth of ore. During one summer
3,000 pounds worth of tin was raised!
A steam-engine was ultimately attached to the works, and the mine was
sunk to a depth of sixteen fathoms, but the expense of working it at
length became so great that it was abandoned--not, however, before ore
to the amount of 70,000 pounds had been raised from under the sea!
At the time of our tale another effort had been made to work the Wherry
Mine, and great expectations had been raised, but these expectations
were being disappointed. Our unfortunate friend Mr Donnithorne was
among the number of those who had cause to regret having ventured to
invest in the undertaking, and it was to make inquiries in regard to
certain unfavourable rumours touching the mine that Oliver Trembath had
been sent to Penzance.
After inspecting Wherry Mine the two friends walked along the shore
together, and Oliver explained the nature of the difficulties in which
his uncle was involved.
"The fact is, Charlie," he said, "an old fish-purchaser of Newlyn named
Hitchin is one of the principal shareholders in this concern. He is as
rich, they say, as Croesus, and if we could only prevail on him to be
amiable the thing might be carried on for some time longer with every
hope of a favourable result, for there can be no doubt whatever that
there is plenty of tin in the mine yet, and the getting of it out is
only a question of time and capital."
"A pretty serious question--as most speculators find," said Tregarthen,
laughing; "you appear to think lightly of it."
"Well, I don't pretend to know much about such matters," replied Oliver,
"but whatever may be the truth of the case, old Hitchin refuses to come
forward. He says that he is low in funds just now, which nobody seems
to believe, and that he owes an immense sum of money to Jim Cuttance,
the smuggler, for what, of course, he will not tell, but we can have no
difficulty in guessing. He says that Cuttance is pressing him just now,
and that, therefore, he cannot afford to advance anything on the mine.
This being the case it must go down, and, if it does, one of the last
few gleams of prosperity that remain to my poor uncle will have
fluttered away. This must be prevented, if possible, and it is with
that end in view that I purpose going to Newlyn this afternoon to see
Hitchin and bring my persuasive powers to bear on him."
"H'm, not of much use, I fear," said Tregarthen. "Hitchin is a tough
old rascal, with a hard heart and a miserly disposition. However, it
may be worth while to make the attempt, for you have a very oily tongue,
Oliver."
"And you have an extremely impudent one, Charlie. But can you tell me
at what time the mackerel boats may be expected this evening, for it
seems the old fellow is not often to be found at home during the day,
and we shall be pretty sure to find him on the beach when the boats
arrive?"
Thus appealed to, Tregarthen cast a long look at the sea and sky.
"Well, I should say, considering the state of the tide and the
threatening appearance of the sky, we may expect to see them at six
o'clock, or thereabouts."
"That leaves us nearly a couple of hours to spare; how shall we spend
it?" said Oliver.
"Go and have a look at this fine old town," suggested Tregarthen. "It
is worth going over, I assure you. Besides the town hall, market,
museum, etcetera, there are, from many points of the surrounding
eminences, most superb views of the town and bay with our noble St.
Michael's Mount. The view from some of the heights has been said by
some visitors to equal that of the far-famed Bay of Naples itself."
"Part of this I have already seen," said Oliver, "the rest I hope to
live to see, but in the meantime tin is uppermost in my mind; so if you
have no objection I should like to have a look at the tin-smelting
works. What say you?"
"Agreed, by all means," cried Tregarthen; "poor indeed would be the
spirit of the Cornishman who did not feel an interest in tin!"