"Are there many winzes, Captain Jan?"
"Yes, dozens of 'em. There are nigh 40 miles of levels and lots of
winzes everywhere!"
The possibility of anything happening to Captain Jan, and my light
getting blown out occurred to me, but I said nothing. When we had
walked a quarter of a mile in this level, we came to the point where it
entered the pump-shaft. The shaft itself was narrow--about 8 or 10 feet
in diameter--but everything in it was ponderous and gigantic. The
engine that drove the pump was 70 horse power; the pump-rod was a
succession of wooden beams, each like the ridge-pole of a house, jointed
together--a rugged affair, with iron bolts, and nuts, and projections at
the joints. In this shaft the kibbles were worked. These kibbles are
iron buckets by which ore is conveyed to the surface. Two are worked
together by a chain--one going up full while the other comes down empty.
Both are free to clatter about the shaft and bang against each other in
passing, but they are prevented from damaging the pump-rod by a wooden
partition. Between this partition and the pump was the ladder we had
now to descend, with just space for a man to pass.
Captain Jan got upon it, and as he did so the pump went up, (a sweep of
10 or 12 feet), with a deep watery gurgle, as if a giant were being
throttled. As I got upon the ladder the pump came down with another
gurgle, close to my shoulder in passing. To avoid this I kept close to
the planks on the other side, but at that moment I heard a noise as if
of distant thunder. "It's only the kibbles," said Captain Jan.
Up came one and down went the other, passing each other with a dire
crash, not far from where we stood, and causing me to shrink into the
smallest possible space. "There's no danger," said the Captain
encouragingly, "if you only keep cool and hold on." Water was coursing
freely down the shaft and spirting over us in fine spray, so that, ere
long, we were as wet and dirty as any miner in Botallack. At last we
reached the 120 fathom level, 720 feet from "grass."
Here the Captain told me men were at work not far off and he wished to
visit them. "Would I wait where I was until he returned?"
"What!" said I, "wait in a draughty level with an extinguishable candle
close to the main shaft, with 30 or 40 miles of levels around, and no
end of winzes? No, no, Captain Jan, go on; I'll stick to you _now_
through thick and thin like your own shadow!"
With one of his benignant smiles the captain resumed his progress. In a
few minutes I heard the clink of hammers, and, soon after, came to a
singular cavern. It was a place where the lode had been very wide and
rich. Years before it had been all cut away from level to level,
leaving a void space so high and deep that the rays of our candles were
lost in obscurity. We walked through it in mid-air, as it were,
supported on cross beams with planks laid thereon. Beyond this we came
to a spot where a number of miners were at work in various places and
positions.
One, a big, broad-shouldered man named Dan, was seated on a wooden box
hammering at the rock with tremendous energy. With him Captain Jan
conversed a few minutes on the appearance of the lode, and then
whispered to me, "A good specimen of a man that, sir, and he's got an
uncommon large family,"--then, turning to the man--"I say, Dan, you've
got a biggish family, haven't you?"
"Iss, a'w iss, Cap'n Jan, I've a braave lot o' child'n."
"How many have you had altogether, Dan?"
"I've had seventeen, sur, but ten of 'em's gone dead--only seven left.
My brother Jim, though, he's had more than me."
After a few more words we left this man, and, in another place, found
this brother Jim, working in the roof of the level with several others.
They had cut so high up in a slanting direction that they appeared to be
in another chamber, which was brilliantly lighted with their candles.
Jim, stripped naked to the waist, stood on the end of a plank, hammering
violently. Looking up into his curious burrow, Captain Jan
shouted--"Hallo! Jim!"
"Hallo, Captain Jan."
"Here's a gentleman wants to know how many children you've had."
"How many child'n, say 'ee? Why, I've had nineteen, sur, but there's
eleven of 'em gone dead. Seven of 'em did come in three years and a
half--_three doubles and a single_--but there's only eight of 'em alive
now!"
I afterwards found that, although this man and his brother were
exceptions, the miners generally had very large families.
While we were talking, a number of shots were heard going off in various
directions. This was explained by Captain Jan. All the forenoon the
miners employ their time in boring and charging the blast-holes. About
mid-day they fire them and then hasten to a clear part of the mine to
eat luncheon and smoke their pipes while the gunpowder smoke clears
away. This it does very slowly, taking sometimes more than an hour to
clear sufficiently so as to let the men resume work.
Immediately after the shots were heard, the men began to assemble. They
emerged from the gloom on all sides like red hobgoblins--wet and
perspiring. Some walked out of darkness from either end of the level;
some stalked out from diverging levels; others slid, feet first, from
holes in the roof and sides, and some rose, head-foremost, from yawning
gulfs in the floor. They all saluted Captain Jan as they came up, and
each stuck his candle against the wall and sat down on a heap of wet
rubbish, to lunch. Some had Cornish pasty, and others a species of
heavy cake--so heavy that the fact of their being able to carry it at
all said much for their digestive organs--but most of them ate plain
bread, and all of them drank water which had been carried down from the
realms of light in little canteens. Frugal though the fare was, it
sufficed to brace them for the rest of the day's work.
After a short talk with these men Captain Jan and I continued our
descent of the ladders--down we went, ever downwards, until at last we
reached the very bottom of that part of the mine--1230 feet below the
surface.
Here we found only two men at work, with whom Captain Jan conversed for
a time while we rested, and then proceeded to ascend "to grass" by the
same ladder-ways. If I felt that the descent was like never getting to
the bottom, much more did the ascent seem like never getting to the top!
I may remark here that the bottom which we had reached was not the
bottom under the sea. At another time Captain Jan took me to that
submarine cavern where, as I have said, no sound ever reaches the ear
from the world above. There is, however, a level close under the sea
where the roar of Ocean is distinctly heard. It is in a part of
Botallack Mine named Wheal Cock. It was very rich in copper ore, and
the miners worked at the roof of it so vigorously, that they began to
fear it would give way. One of them, therefore, in order to ascertain
what thickness of solid rock still lay between them and the sea, bored a
small hole upwards, and advanced about three feet or so before the water
rushed in. Of course they had a wooden plug ready and stopped up the
hole. But, as it was dangerous to cut away any more of the roof, they
were finally obliged unwillingly to forsake that part of the mine.
This occurred some thirty years before my visit, yet when I went to see
the place, I found the wooden plug still hard and fast in the hole and
quite immoveable. As I stood and listened I could well understand the
anxiety of the miners, for at the upward rush of each wave, I could hear
the rattle of the boulders overhead, like monster cannon balls, and a
repetition of the thunder when the waves retreated.
On our way up the ladders we stopped several times to rest. At such
times Captain Jan related various anecdotes illustrative of mining life.
"This is a place," said he, on one occasion, "which reminds me of a man
who was always ready to go in for dangerous work. His name was Old
Maggot. He was not really old, but he had a son named after himself,
and his friends had to distinguish him from the young Maggot."
So saying, Captain Jan trimmed his candle with nature's own pair of
snuffers--the finger and thumb--and proceeded as follows:
"Some time ago the miners in Botallack came to an old deserted mine that
was full of water--this is what miners call a `_house of water_.' The
ore there was rich, but the men were afraid to work it lest they should
come suddenly on the old mine and break a hole through to it--in other
words `_hole to that house of water_.' They stopped working at last,
and no one seemed willing to run the risk of driving the hole and
letting out the water. In this difficulty they appealed to Old Maggot,
who at once agreed to do it. The old mine was about three-quarters of a
mile back from the sea-shore, but at that time it could only be got at
by entering the _adit_ level from the shore. It was through this level
that the water would have to escape. At the mouth of it a number of men
assembled to see Old Maggot go in. In he went, alone, with a bunch of
candles, and, as he walked along, he stuck a lighted candle every here
and there against the wall to light him out,--for he expected to have to
run for it.
"When he came to the place, the water was spirting out everywhere. But
Old Maggot didn't mind. He grasped his hammer and borer and began. The
work was done sooner than he had expected! Suddenly the rock gave way
and the water burst upon him, putting out his candle and turning him
heels over head. He jumped up and tried to run, but the flood rose on
him, carried him off his legs, swept him right through the level, and
hurled him through the adit-mouth at last, upon the sea-shore! He was
stunned a little, but soon recovered, and, beyond a few bruises and a
wetting, was nothing the worse of his adventure.
"_That_," said Captain Jan, pointing to the rock beside us, "was the
place where Old Maggot holed to the house of water, and _this_ was the
level through which he was washed and through part of which I will now
conduct you."
Accordingly, we traversed the level, and, coming to another shaft,
continued our upward progress.
While we were slowly toiling up, step by step, we were suddenly arrested
by the sound of voices singing in the far distance above us. The music
was slow and solemn. Coming as it did so unexpectedly in such a strange
place, it sounded quite magical and inexpressibly sweet.
"Miners descending to work," said my guide, as we listened. The air was
familiar to me, and, as it grew louder and louder, I recognised that
beautiful tune called "French," to which we are accustomed to sing the
121st Psalm, "I to the hills will lift mine eyes." Gradually the men
came down to us. We stood on one side. As they passed they ceased
singing and nodded to Captain Jan. There were five or six stout fellows
and a boy. The latter was as active as his companions, and his treble
voice mingled tunefully with theirs as they continued the descent, and
resumed the psalm, keeping time to the slow measured tread of their
steps. We watched until their lights disappeared, and then resumed our
upward way, while the sweet strains grew fainter and fainter, until they
were gradually lost in the depths below. The pleasant memory of that
psalm still remained with me, when I emerged from the ladder-shaft of
Botallack mine, and--after having been five hours underground--once more
drank in, (with a new and intensified power of appreciation), the fresh
air of heaven and the blessed influences of green fields and sunshine.
To many a weird and curious part of the great mine did the obliging
Captain Jan lead me, but perhaps the most interesting part was the
lowest depth under the sea, to which my wife accompanied us. This part
is reached by the Boscawen shaft, a sloping one which the men descend in
an iron car or gig. The car is let down and hauled up by an iron rope.
Once this rope broke, the car flew to the bottom, was dashed against the
rock, and all the men--eight in number--were killed.
In 1865 the Prince and Princess of Wales descended this shaft, and
Captain Jan was their amiable, not to say eccentric, guide. The Captain
was particularly enthusiastic in praise of the Princess. He said that
she was a "fine intelligent young lady; that she asked no end of
questions, would not rest until she understood everything, and
afterwards undertook to explain it all to her less-informed companions."
A somewhat amusing incident occurred while they were underground.
When about to begin his duty as guide it suddenly flashed across the
mind of poor Captain Jan that, in the excitement of the occasion, he had
forgotten to take gloves with him. He was about to lead the Princess by
the hand over the rugged floors of the levels. To offer to do so
without gloves was not to be thought of. To procure gloves 200 fathoms
below the sea was impossible. To borrow from the Prince or the Duke of
Sutherland, who were of the party, was out of the question. What was he
to do? Suddenly he remembered that he had a newspaper in his pocket.
In desperation he wrapped his right hand in a piece of this, and, thus
covered, held it out to the Princess. She, innocently supposing that
the paper was held up to be looked at, attempted to read. This
compelled Captain Jan to explain himself, whereupon she burst into a
hearty fit of laughter, and, flinging away the paper, took the ungloved
hand of the loyal but bashful miner.