The Mines and its Wonders

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The walls of the cavern on either side rose abruptly out of the water, with the exception of one small landing-place at the foot of a projecting ridge. Here and there hung masses of stalactite, resembling a petrified cascade, the rest of the rock being black and naked. So high was the vault that their torches could not pierce the gloom, the impressiveness of which was increased by the roar of a waterfall heard through the channel to the left.

Hitherto their progress had been easy, but they now resolved to proceed up the left branch. They had frequently to get out of their boat, and wading, drag her over the shallows. The voyage terminated at the end of a small hall with a circular dome, the floor being a lake 180 feet in length, and from 40 to 45 feet in depth. In the roof appeared a chasm, sloping upwards through a small aperture, in which a violent current of air set in, almost extinguishing their torches.

Beyond the mouth of the chasm another gallery opened out, into which the persevering travellers penetrated. Nothing could surpass the beauty of the spar crystals with which its walls were encrusted. At the entrance stood a white figure, which might easily be supposed to be an angel, guarding the entrance with a glittering sword, threatening all who should venture with profane hands into his sanctuary.

Further on, projected in bold relief, was a colossal statue of a monarch, sceptre in hand. As they proceeded they passed groups of stalagmitic cones of all shapes and sizes. Some like the smallest icicles, others rising six feet in height from the ground, as thick as a human figure, the whole shining and glittering as the light of the torches fell upon them, and standing out in bold relief against the dark background formed by the brown wall of the cavern.

Returning to the central hall, they made their way up the eastern branch, which is much larger than the one they had just visited, the main stream flowing through it. As they pulled up, the increasing roar of waters announced a large waterfall. They found that enormous masses of stone, falling from the roof, had narrowed the bed of the river to about fifteen feet, over which the water shot in a broad sheet, fully ten feet in height. The effect as it rushed over the jet-black rocks, casting up flakes of milky white foam, when illuminated by the torches, was very beautiful.

Having hauled up the boat over the rugged mound, they again embarked, encountering a couple of reefs. They then proceeded on between steep walls with a free navigation, for upwards of four miles. In many places the roof was adorned with draperies formed of snow-white stalactites, but generally the black walls alone appeared. In some parts the roof descended so low that they were compelled to lie down, and shove the boat along by holding to the roof above their heads, until at length they found that they could proceed no further.

Of the world beneath the surface some of the most beautiful scenes are presented by the ice-caves of France and Switzerland. One of the most curious is the glacière “Grâce Dieu,” near Besançon. In the centre of the cave rose three stalagmites of ice. The central mass was 66.5 feet in circumference. Some distance above the ice-floor on the right was a small fir-tree, which had been fixed in the ground, and had become completely covered so that the tree itself had disappeared, its crystal incrustation showing every elegance of variety in form. From each twig of the different boughs, complicated groups of icicles streamed down. The mass to the left, however, was the grandest and most beautiful. It consisted of two vast heads, with several others of less height resembling a group of lions’ heads bending down, richly decked with icy manes, huge masses measuring 76.5 feet in circumference. On looking at this column from the side opposite the entrance to the cave, so that it stood in the centre of the light pouring down in a long slope from the outer world, the transparency of the ice made the whole appear as if it were set in a frame of impalpable liquid blue, the effect of the light penetrating through the mass at its extreme edges.

The Schafloch or Trou-aux-Moutons, a vast ice-cave on the Rothhorn, in the canton of Berne, is equally beautiful and curious. It takes its name from the fact that on the approach of a storm, the sheep and goats fly to it for shelter, although never going as far in as the place where the ice commences. The travellers entered the cave amid masses of loose stone, with which in a short time the ice was found to intermingle until it entirely hid the naked rock. They passed between two magnificent columns of ice which formed the portal to the fairy cavern. The floor, composed of ice, rose on either side to meet these columns in a graceful swelling curve, so that it appeared as if their bases expanded and met in the middle of the cave.

They had now to make their way amidst stalagmites rising from the floor, met by stalactites descending from the roof. All the time as they twisted in and out among the glittering pillars of ice, endeavouring to do as little harm as possible, they were accompanied by an incessant fall of small portions, shivering and glittering on reaching the ground.

Passing beyond the two columns, they saw before them a perfect sea of ice, which became broader and broader until they reached the edge of a magnificent ice-fall, smooth and unbroken, beyond which they were unable to penetrate.