KENTUCKY PRESS ASSOCIATION
Entertained Here by the St. Bernard Coal Company in June, 1878.
COMING AGAIN THIS YEAR.
Emmett G. Logan, Then a Courier-Journal Reporter, Wrote Up the Trip.
Novel and Elegant Entertainment in the Mines Reported by Pencil Pushers.
Way back in 1878, when the editor of The Bee was a small devil in a Madisonville printing office, and before The Bee “angels” were, the Kentucky Press Association held its annual meeting at Hopkinsville, and after the “business” and a large part of the pleasure had been transacted, they accepted the invitation of the management of the St. Bernard and Hecla coal companies, and came to Earlington for a day of very novel experience in the green-clad hills and the rich coal mines of Earlington, that were then growing from their early infancy to the great magnitude and almost world-wide fame they have now attained.
The output of the St. Bernard mines in 1878, eight years after the first pick was struck in the coal, was 4,407,600 bushels; last year the output of this group of mines reached the enormous figure of 21,825,496 bushels. Then the St. Bernard and Hecla mines were the only ones in operation. Now there are numerous other large mines, and the total output of coal from Hopkins county in 1900 was 33,843,500 bushels, or nearly one-fourth the total output of the vast coal fields of the entire State.
This record of the early visit of the Kentucky newspaper men to the rich coal fields of Hopkins county is a matter affecting local history, and has been treasured in the memory of many Earlington people, as it was preserved in the writings of many an able journalist, while the memory of the experience was fresh. One writer spoke of it as “a most novel and magnificent affair.” This occurrence transpired years prior to the establishment of The Bee, and now it is timely that The Bee should reproduce somewhat of the record of that event.
Col. E. G. Sebree, Sr., was then President of the St. Bernard Coal Company, and Mr. John B. Atkinson was Vice President and General Superintendent. Col. Jo. F. Foard was President of the Hecla Company.
Gen. James H. Wilson was Superintendent of the old St. Louis and Southeastern, now the St. Louis and Henderson Divisions of the Louisville and Nashville Railroad. Conductors E. H. Mann, John C. Loomis, W. M. Brady and A. S. Batch were subjects of especial thanks at the hands of the press boys.
W. J. Lampton, E. Polk Johnson, George W. Bain, Urey Woodson, J. Stoddard Johnston, I. B. Nall and E. G. Logan were among the representatives present who have attained prominence in press and public circles.
Emmett G. Logan, the orator of that meeting, now editor of the Louisville Times, wrote thus in part in the Courier-Journal about the Earlington part of the entertainment:
AN UNDERGROUND BANQUET.
Down in the Hecla the air is filled with noisome vapors, and upon emerging we were advised to take an antidote in the shape of distilled water, from a spring on which the moon had never shown, made palatable by a judicious admixture of saccharine matter and flavored with sprigs of an aromatic plant of the genus Mentha—a piece of advice that was taken with a good deal of unction. Then came the announcement that dinner would be served in the St. Bernard mine, one mile from the entrance. I acknowledge that I received this announcement with an action approximating a shudder, but as I was in a strait between two shudders—one at the thought of going to the end of a hole a mile long to get my dinner, and the other at the appalling prospect of getting no dinner at all—I determined to face the lesser shudder and went in the hole. However, as is frequently the case, proximity did not mean similarity. Though the two holes were near neighbors, there was an infinity of preference in favor of the upper one—the St. Bernard, which is located on a much higher plain and cut into an entirely different vein of coal. It is seven feet thick, and forms a segment of a hill; while the Hecla is but five feet thick and lies far down under the valleys. Here were large, clean cars, provided with clean seats for six persons, and the trains drawn over smooth, dry tracks by two large mules in tandem. There were a number of trains of six cars each, and the lights of the miners, glimmering in the distance like fireflies, made, what was to me at least, a novel and interesting spectacle. Near the point of destination the entry had been closed by a large sheet, or drop curtain, and as the train approached it was drawn aside, and disclosed to the astonished view of the upper land-lubbers a truly wonderful spectacle for such a place. There was a magnificent gallery, thee hundred yards long, some twenty feet wide and ten or twelve high, lit up by more than a thousand candles, a band of music filling these living catacombs with softest symphonies, and two long tables loaded with delicacies and presided over by fair women, spread out before that hungry crowd. It was a time for admiration and for appetite.
It was my good fortune to fall early into the hands of Mr. Robinson, General Foreman of the mines. Eight years ago the 3d of last May he and one companion stuck the first pick into what is now the Great St. Bernard, with its capital stock of one million dollars, with a fee simple to mineral privileges in thirteen thousand acres of land, and has driven thirteen and a half miles of entries, and has five miles of iron railroad underground and a mining capacity of 25,000 bushels, or 1,000 tons per day. Its total output to date is 22,500,000 bushels or 900,000 tons. Output for the year ending April 1, 1878, 4,407,500 bushels, or 173,304 tons.
Even while the guests of that festive occasion were enjoying the good things so lavishly set before them, there would reach their ears the distant rumble of blasts fired off far away in the depths of the hill. There is no end to the coal there and there is no limit to the St. Bernard’s facilities for getting it out. Many interesting facts and statistics were furnished me but the loss of a memorandum book will save them for another visit and another letter. Mr. Robinson was born on the Isle of Man, and is now about forty-five years old. He has lived in mines since he was ten and is better satisfied in the earth than on it. He has three brothers, foremen in the mines, and one of his sons is a member of the mine band that furnished music for the occasion.
No one in that party will ever forget the day spent at St. Bernard and Hecla, or the many courtesies or goodly cheer received at their hands. Col. Sebree, Mr. Atkinson and others were especially attentive to the wants and wishes of the party. Mrs. Atkinson, Mrs. Davis, Mrs. Williams and Miss Lina Judson, who presided over the subterranean feast, were embalmed in a resolution of thanks, as well as in the memories of the press.
Mrs. Nannie Houston Banks, who is since known as an accomplished author and a brilliant newspaper correspondent, was of the party with her husband, Mr. James N. Banks, representing the Henderson Reporter.
Mrs. Banks was, it will be remembered, shut up in one of the besieged South African cities—probably Kimberly—during the Boer war, while acting in the capacity of special correspondent to a leading daily of New York or London.
The following from the Reporter sounds like the writing of a woman and we attribute it to Mrs. Banks:
After they had partaken of the refreshments so bountifully furnished on the surface of the earth, they were invited by the proprietors of the mines to a feast under the earth that rivalled in splendor the dreams of Aladdin. They were conducted to the main entrance of No. 11 vein of coal, where cars drawn by mules, had been provided in which to take the journey; and taking their seats, each one having provided himself with a little tin miner’s lamp, they were whirled into the bosom of mother earth through a solid vein of coal eight feet in thickness, around curves and up grades for at least a mile—the miners blasting in the vein beneath, (No. 9,) sounded like a salute of welcome from distant canon. Approaching their destination, away off through the dark cavern could be seen twinkling lights, like stars on the brow of night, which, on a nearer approach, were discovered to be a thousand candles lighting up a magnificent chamber or Hall. The contrast between the narrow and dark tunnel through which they had been conveyed and the lighted chamber was grand and inspiring; but when on approaching nearer, the car was greeted by the notes of the “Red, White and Blue” from a brass band stationed at the extreme end, it became overwhelming, and the souls that had been hushed into awe and silence by the wonders of the journey and the grandeur of the scene broke forth into loud huzzahs that made the hallways ring. It brought to memory the tale of some robber chieftain returning with his booty to his home in the cave. Getting out of the cars they found themselves in a large and spacious room cut out of solid coal, with chandeliers of candles pending from the roof and jetting out from the sides; two long rows of tables, capable of seating two hundred persons, covered with white cloth and laden with the fat of the land—mutton, hams, the nicest of butter, bread and cakes, the purest old Java and the richest of cream to give it flavor and color. Attentive waiters under the direction of the proprietors were busy in making each guest whet his appetite.
Several ladies added to the scene their presence, (each editor should have had a wife and had her with him,) among the number Mrs. John B. Atkinson, the wife of the superintendent of the St. Bernard mines, a lady whose noble face and pleasant and graceful manners marked her at once as the person who had planned, executed and carried into effect this most delightful denouement to a most elegant entertainment. Col. Sebree, President of the mines noted for his indomitable energy and perseverance and jolly disposition—accompanied by his gentlemanly and effective aids, Mr. John B. Atkinson and Maj. M. M. Kimmell, the superintendents respectfully of the St. Bernard and St. Charles mines, were everywhere present, adding to the pleasure of the day and the comfort of their guests.
The occasion will be long remembered, and the trip into the mines with its pleasant contrasts and surprises will be recounted time and time again around the fireside and in the business circles. Very few of the editors had by ocular demonstration any idea of the vast coal resource of Southern Kentucky until this trip. A vein of coal in which the tallest man may walk upright extending for miles in inexhaustible quantities, was something they had read of but never seen. There are others beneath the one they entered averaging from four and a half to five feet in thickness, and these are underlaid by the finest block coal—all of which when fully developed will make this section the richest on the globe.
It is to be hoped that attention may be called more frequently by the press to our magnificent resources that immigration may be induced and they fully developed.
H. C. Batts said in the Clarksville Chronicle:
Thursday, at 9 o’clock, a.m., we got aboard the special train, provided by the St. Louis & Southwestern Railroad Company and in an hour found ourselves
AT THE COAL MINES,
whither we went on the invitation of the Hecla and St. Bernard Mining Companies. About 150 persons composed the excursion party. After refreshing the spiritual liquidiam we were put in charge of Col. Foard, who gracefully did the Furguson for us in showing us through the mines. We were “loaded up” in little cars, pushed upon the platform and let down the shaft 90 feet into Cimmerian darkness.
There mines employ 175 men, and produce annually 2,226,000 bushels of coal. After exploring the mines, seeing the miners “dig” and “blast” we got in our cars and were drawn back to the foot of the shaft, and again drawn up into daylight. We “refreshed” again, (the refreshment consisted of lemonade and cigars). We were then escorted up to the mouth of the St. Bernard mines, where several trains of cars stood ready to receive up. We were in blissful ignorance of the very
GREAT SURPRISE
that awaited us. We were placed in the little coal cars, nine in each car, (however, Riley had a special car, for obvious reasons), an escort of miners was provided to accompany us, and we started on our delightful journey into the ground. For the distance of a mile and a half with a clang and a clatter, on the track and off, we went at a rattling speed. Finally at a turn in the chute, a scene suddenly burst upon our vision that cannot be described nor forgotten. A quarter of a mile distant we beheld the materialized
GROTTO OF CALYPSO,
an underground paradise of more than oriental splendor and magnificence. It was simply beyond description and above comparison. Imagine, if you can, a hall 400 feet long and 50 feet wide lighted with 1,000 wax candles, placed in clusters at regular distances along both sides and suspended from the ceiling 40 feet overhead; the walls literally covered with festoons of flowers and evergreens; the floor carpeted with moss and strewn with flowers; hundreds of bouquets on the two tables which ran the whole length of the hall, and hanging baskets of flowers overhead, while the liberal tables were weighted down with a dinner that would have pleased Epicurus himself. We were struck dumb with astonishment at this unexpected sight of fairyland and unanimously decided to stop our trains that we might admire the beautiful scene. Then the whole mountain shook with the most deafening cannonade; again and again the terrible thunder rolled through the caverns, until the whole mountain to her center shook. On inquiring, we were told that it was the miners blasting 80 feet below us, saluting the party. The cannonade ceased, the band began to play, and our senses were absolutely intoxicated with delight. When we proceeded to demolish the dinner, and after two or three hours of unadulterated happiness we reluctantly left the enchanted grotto. After listening to a very palatable paper by Judge McHenry, of St. Louis, (whose humor, by the way, is much like that of our lamented Humphreys, elevated, dignified, chaste), we started for Hopkinsville, and at 8:30 p.m., attended the reception by Dr. and Mrs. Rodman, at the Asylum, which was a most elegant affair.
This visit to Earlington was made June 6, 1878. One week from tomorrow, Friday, August 2, 1901, the Kentucky Press Association comes to Earlington again and will be entertained at luncheon, details of which will be given later.