The Subterranean World

by G. Hartwig

FENRHYN SLATE QUARRY, NORTH WALES.

Great Britain possesses apparently inexhaustible quantities of alabaster in the red marl formation in the neighbourhood of Derby, where it has been worked for many centuries. The great bulk of it is used for making plaster of Paris, and as a manure, or as the basis of many kinds of cements. For these common industrial purposes it is worked by mining underground, and the stone is blasted by gunpowder; but this shakes it so much as to render it unfit for works of ornament, to procure blocks for which it is necessary to have an open quarry. By removing the superincumbent marl, and laying bare a large surface of the rock, the alabaster, being very irregular in form, and jutting out in several parts, can be sawn out in blocks of a considerable size and comparatively sound. This stone, when preserved from the action of water, which soon decomposes it, is extremely durable, as may be seen in churches all over this country, where monumental effigies many centuries old are still as perfect as when they proceeded from the sculptor’s chisel. The Derbyshire alabaster, commonly called Derbyshire spar, gives employment to a good many hands in forming it into useful and ornamental articles. Another kind of alabaster also found in Derbyshire is crystallised in long needlelike silky fibres, which, being susceptible of a high polish and quite lustrous, is used for making necklaces, bracelets, brooches, and other small articles.

Besides her inexhaustible coal, iron, and lead mines, Wales possesses in her slate quarries a great source of mineral wealth. For this article, which many would suppose to be but of secondary importance, is here found in such abundance and perfection as to command a ready market all over the world. Thus, in North Wales the face of the mountains is everywhere dotted or scarred with slate quarries, of which by far the most important and largest are those of Llandegui, six miles from Bangor, in which more than three thousand persons are employed. This circumstance alone will give an idea of their extent, but still more their having their own harbour, Port Penrhyn, which holds vessels of from 300 to 400 tons, and whence slates are sent not only to all parts of Great Britain, but even to North America. The cost of the inclined planes and railroads which serve to transport the slates from the quarries to the port is said to have amounted to 170,000l. The masses of slate are either detached from the rock by blasting, or by wedges and crowbars. They are then shaped on the spot into the various forms for which they are destined to be used.

Though the quarries of Llandegui are unrivalled, yet there are others which give employment to workmen whose numbers range from a thousand to fifteen hundred. In those that export their produce by way of Carnarvon, which owes its prosperity almost entirely to this branch of industry, about 2,300 men were employed in the year 1842, and since then their number has very much increased. Walking on the handsome new quay of the town, the visitor everywhere sees slates ready for shipment in the numerous small vessels which crowd the picturesque harbour. They are heaped up and arranged or sorted in large regular piles according to their dimensions or quality, the ‘ladies’ and ‘fat ladies’ apart, as also the ‘countesses,’ ‘marchionesses,’ ‘princesses,’ ‘duchesses,’ and ‘queens,’ for by these aristocratic names the slate merchants distinguish the various sizes of the humble article they deal in.

Kohl, the celebrated traveller, remarks that, whenever a new branch of industry springs up in England, a number of active hands and inventive heads set to work to extend its application. This was also the case with the Welsh slates, when, about half a century ago, they first began to attract the notice of the commercial world. A polish was soon invented in London which gave them the appearance of the finest black marble. As they are easily worked with the aid of a turning lathe, they can thus be used for the manufacture of many useful and ornamental articles, which have all the lustre of ebony, and may be obtained at a much cheaper rate.

The quarries of St. Peter’s Mount, near Maestricht in the Netherlands, are probably the most extensive in Europe. For the white tufaceous limestone of the mountain has been used from time immemorial both for building and manuring, and the enormous extent of its caverns is perhaps even owing in a greater measure to the agriculturist than to the architect. And yet St. Peter’s Mount, situated near a town of moderate extent, would hardly have been excavated beyond the limits of a common quarry if the broad Meuse, flowing at its foot, had not opened towards Holland an almost unlimited market for its produce. Sure of being able to dispose of all the materials they can possibly extract from the earth, the quarrymen of the neighbourhood are thus yearly adding new passages to the labyrinths at which so many generations of their forefathers have toiled from age to age.

In spring and summer they are mostly occupied with agricultural pursuits, and then but rarely leave the light of day to burrow in the entrails of the earth by the dismal ‘sheen’ of smoky lamps; but as soon as the approach of winter puts a stop to the labours of the field, they descend into the cavities of the mountain, and begin to excavate the vast mounds of stone or grit which are to be shipped in the following spring.

Accompanied by a guide, the stranger enters these amazing quarries, that extend for miles into the interior of the mountain, and is soon lost in wonder at their endless passages, perpetually crossing each other to the right and left, and ending in utter darkness. The dismal grandeur of these dark regions is increased by their awful silence, for but rarely a drop of water falls from the vaults into a small pool below, and even the voice of man dies away without awakening an echo.

But in order to make one feel the full impression of night and silence, the guide, after penetrating to some distance into the interior of the cave, extinguishes his torch. A strange sensation of awe then creeps over the boldest heart, and by an almost irresistible instinct the stranger seeks the nearest wall, as if to convince himself that he has at least the sense of touch to depend upon where the eye vainly seeks for the least ray of light, and the ear as vainly listens for a sound. Then also he feels how dreadful must have been the agonies of the despairing wretches who, having lost their way in these dark labyrinths, prayed and wept and shouted in vain, until their last groans died away unheard.

It has not seldom happened that persons have hopelessly strayed about in these vast caverns, and there slowly perished, while but a few fathoms above the labourer was driving his plough forward or the reaper singing his evening song. In several parts of the caverns an inscription on the walls points out where and under what circumstances a corpse has been found, or a few traces of black chalk give a rude portrait of the victim. Here we read the short story of a workman who, losing his way, roamed about till the last glimmer from his torch died out in his burnt fingers; there that of another whose lamp by some chance was overturned, and who, plunged in sudden darkness, was no longer able to find his way out of some remote passage.