The diving-bell has many times rendered service to engineers, by enabling them to descend and ascertain the nature of damages going on, which might otherwise have ruined their work. When Brunel was building the famous Thames Tunnel, and the current had broken through its arched roof, he went down in a diving-bell to see for himself the extent of the disaster. After a descent of nearly thirty feet, he reached a serious opening in the masonry, but the hole was too narrow to allow the bell to enter. It was therefore necessary for some one to dive into it, and brave Brunel immediately declared his intention [pg 86]of doing it. Taking hold of the end of a rope, he plunged into the hole, where it is said he remained nearly two minutes, mentally noting the damage done. So intent was he on this examination that he let go the rope just as his companions above, alarmed at his long stay below, were hauling it up. He had just time to catch hold of it again, and was happily drawn safely into the bell.

DIVERS ATTACKED BY A SWORD-FISH.

The diving dress was a later development, and owed much of its present practical shape to French men of science. The object of the dress, which is of canvas or india-rubber and metal, is, of course, to give each individual wearing it the utmost liberty of motion, while having at the same time a proper supply of vital air. The condensed air-reservoir is made of steel, and capable of resisting great pressures. The diver carries this apparatus on his back; from it a respiratory tube issues, and is terminated by an india-rubber mouth-piece, which is held between the lips and teeth of the diver.

The diver’s is a rough life, most assuredly. During the diving business on the Royal George, Private John Williams, early in the season, tore his hands very severely in attempting to sling a mass of the wreck with jagged surfaces and broken bolts. After a few days’ rest he reappeared in his submarine habit, and dived as before, but from excessive pain in the ears was again hors de combat till the 11th of July, when, on re-descending, he was grievously injured by the bursting of his air-pipe a few inches above the water. This casualty was indicated by a loud hissing noise on deck. A few seconds elapsed before the rupture could be traced and the opening temporarily stopped. With great alertness he was drawn up, and on being relieved of his helmet, presented a frightful appearance. His face and neck were much swelled and very livid, blood was flowing profusely from his mouth and ears, and his eyes were closed and protruding. Though partially suffocated, he possessed sufficient sensibility to speak of the mishap. A sudden shock, it seems, struck him motionless, and then followed a tremendous pressure, as if he were being crushed to death. A month in the Haslar Hospital restored him to health, and on returning to the wreck he at once recommenced his laborious occupation.

DIVERS AT WORK.

The following is a remarkable example of a salvage effected by the help of divers. “The packet boats Ganges and l’Impératrice came into collision in the outer port of Marseilles. The Impératrice had one of her wheels broken and the officers’ quarters damaged. One of the cabins contained a chest full of gold, which fell into the thick mud which forms the bottom of the port of Marseilles. It was important that this precious package should be recovered the next day. The sea was rough, and the exact spot where the accident occurred unknown. The box was not strong; its colour was black. At the supposed spot a plumb of sixty kilogrammes was sunk. This plumb carried two cords divided into metres; two divers dragged them in separate directions, and taking each the knot corresponding to one metre, they described consecutive circles, examining the ground at each step. After searching three hours, the gold was found, and restored to its owner, who had watched the operations with intense anxiety. This salvage was effected on February 19th, 1867, by M. Barbotin, contractor for submarine work at Marseilles.”

The diving-bell proper has been much improved by another Frenchman, M. Payerne. His “Submarine Hydrostat” will descend or fall at the will of those inside. Thirty men may work in it with ease for a number of hours without inconvenience. It is, therefore, of [pg 87]great service in clearing ports, and in facilitating the execution of other submarine work. “The principle of the machine is very ingenious. Externally, it has the appearance of one large rectangular box, surmounted by another smaller one, completely closed in except at the bottom. The interior consists of three principal compartments. The hold communicates by a large shaft with the upper compartment. Between these is a third compartment, or orlop deck, which only communicates with the others by means of stop-cocks. The hydrostat is twenty feet in height, and its base, which has the bottom of the sea for a floor, covers an area of 625 square feet. It may be made to rise and fall at will, and it will readily float about like a raft.” This ingenious machine has proved of much service. The port of Fécamp was choked up with shingle, which closed it against all vessels beyond a certain tonnage. The hydrostat was employed, and the port cleaned, and again opened to commerce.

The old divers are fond of recounting the glories of their craft, and are specially impressed with any information as to the fate of the vessels of the Armada. This spirit has been fostered no less by the successes of the ancestor of the Mulgraves than by the good fortune of John Gann, of Whitstable. The old diver was, many years since, employed on the Galway coast, and used to pass his evenings in a public-house frequented by fishermen. One of these men, repeating a tradition which had long existed in the district, told Gann that one of the Spanish vessels had been wrecked not far from that coast, and intimated that he himself could point out the spot. Gann, having finished his special job, made terms with the fisherman, and they were both out for many weeks dragging the spot indicated for any traces of the wreck. They were at last rewarded by coming upon obstructions with their grapnels. Gann brought out his diving apparatus, and sure enough the truth of the tradition was vindicated by the finding of a number of dollars, which had originally been packed in barrels. The barrels, however, had rotted away, and left the gold stacked in barrel shape. With the money so recovered John Gann built at Whitstable, his native place, a row of houses, which, to commemorate the circumstance, he called Dollar Row.