Vagabond Life in Mexico

by Gabriel Ferry

Description of, and descent into, a Silver Mine.—The Miner's Chapel.

When a mine is first begun, it is always left open to the sky, and the mineral is extracted by following the vein that contains it; but, as the mine gets deeper, two obstacles present themselves: the extraction of the ore becomes more costly, and the workmen are not long in meeting with hidden springs, the waters of which, unless removed, would drown the mine and stop the works. To provide against this danger, shafts are sunk, at the bottom of which a working gallery runs, that follows the vein of metal. The depth of the shaft depends upon the lode, which sometimes stretches so far down into the ground that two or three working galleries, one above the other, are obliged to be constructed. In the richest mines little paths of communication are added to these principal arteries, besides other works to assist in its exploration.

The ore and water are raised out of the mines by means of machines called Malacates, placed at the mouth of the shaft. Large bags, some made of the stringy bark of the aloe, others of ox-hide, are fixed to the ends of ropes wound round an enormous drum, the former for raising the ore, the latter for the water, and these are constantly passing up and down the shaft. The motive power is given by horses, which are kept constantly at the gallop.

Besides the grand shaft (tiro general), the mine of Rayas has two others of less importance, one of which reaches a depth of nearly eight hundred feet. The tiro general, remarkable for the diameter of its shaft, which is thirty-four feet, and for its frightful depth, almost twelve hundred feet, communicates with three principal galleries, one above the other, and these shafts and galleries, together with their accessories, form the most complete series of gigantic workings that are to be found in the country. The exterior appearance of this mine is, however, far from giving one an idea of the constant activity which prevails within it. Some paltry wooden sheds, covered with tiles, which protect the malacates, or shelter the workmen; a few buildings of mean appearance, the offices of the administrators or overseers, and two or three whitewashed houses, huddled together without any regard to order on the neighboring mounds, scarcely convey to the visitor any notion of the wonders he is going to behold.

It was about midday when I arrived with my companion at the opening by which we were to be admitted into the mine. We dismounted, confided our horses to the care of one of the miners, and entered. Desiderio carried in his hand a huge torch. I stood for a short time at the mouth of this vast laboratory, thinking on the millions of money it had been the means of putting into circulation. My guide, his cloak thickly covered with gold lace, that appeared, as the light of the torch fell on its velvety folds, to be seamed with golden links, looked like the lordly genie of this subterranean kingdom. We descended for a long time a series of steps, every one of which had the dimensions of a terrace. Amid the profound darkness, which the torch dispelled but feebly, we made a series of turnings and windings, changing every minute our temperature and direction, and sometimes mounting an inclined plane only to descend it. In about a quarter of an hour I perceived in the distance some wandering lights, then a few gigantic shadows appeared on the moist walls of the vault. I still kept on, and soon found myself in a square which the piety of the miners had converted into a chapel. In the centre rose a low altar, ornamented with wax tapers, which burned before an image of a saint. A man, who seemed to be praying fervently, was kneeling upon the steps of the altar. He was the first human being I had seen since entering the mine.

My guide touched my arm.

"Take a good look at this man," he said, in a low tone. The suppliant miner was entirely naked. Without the light of the flambeau, which allowed you to see his gray hair and angular features, you would not have thought he was an old man, so much youth and vigor seemed still to possess his nervous members.

"Why?" I inquired of Desiderio.

"This man," said he, "is no stranger to the history of the hand upon the wall that you gazed at with so much curiosity this morning; and, though that history is as well known to me as to him, perhaps from his lips it would have an additional interest, as his son was concerned in it."

I fancied that I had at last found an opportunity for shaking off Desiderio by insinuating that the narrator would probably go more into detail if he were telling the story to me alone. This time he took the hint.