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: