CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.
THE LAST.
Many others as well as Maggot made money by the pilchards at that time.All round the coast of Cornwall millions of these little fish weretaken, salted, and exported. No fewer than one thousand hogsheads weretaken at St. Ives in the first three seine-nets cast into the sea. InMounts Bay, Fowey Bay, Mevagissey, and other fishing grounds, immensequantities were caught, and the total catch of the county was little ifat all short of thirty thousand hogsheads.
Among others, old Mr Donnithorne was so successful that his brokenfortunes were almost re-established; and a small sum which our friendOliver Trembath had ventured to invest in the fishing was more thanquadrupled before the end of the year.
But this was not all. At the next Botallack account-dinner, Mr Cornishgladdened the hearts of the adventurers by telling them that the lodeswhich had been "promising" for such a length of time had at last got thelength of "performance," and that he had now the pleasure of announcinga large dividend, which he paid there and then.
A considerable share of this fell to old Mr Donnithorne, who, in theenthusiasm of the occasion, observed confidentially to Captain Dan thathe was convinced "honesty was the best policy after all"--a sentimentwhich the captain heartily agreed with, although he failed to detect theprecise connection between it and the old gentleman's sudden influx ofgood fortune. But, then, the captain did not drink Botallack punch,while old Mr Donnithorne did, which may to some extent account for thedifference in their powers of vision.
Captain Dan, however, possessed wonderful powers of vision in referenceto the underground workings of Botallack, which were displayed toadvantage--and to the great gratification of the shareholders--when, atthe request of Mr Cornish, he stood up and gave a detailed and graphicaccount of the prospects of the mine; telling them that the appearanceof the lodes in several parts of the mine was very promising indeed, andthat some ground was returning a rich harvest for the labour that hadbeen bestowed on it; that in the 105, which was driving north by sixmen, they had taken down the copper for fourteen fathoms long, nearlythe whole of which had turned out to be worth 100 pounds per fathom;that a splice had been formed in the lode about two fathoms behind thepresent end, which had disordered it, but he was glad to say it wasagain improving, and was at that time about fifteen inches wide of richcopper, and, as far as he could judge, they were going through to thetop part of the "bunch" of copper; that these facts, he thought, werevery satisfactory, but that it was still more gratifying to know thatthe lode on the bottom of the 105 was far more valuable than that in theback; that in the "Crowns," especially in the various levels under thesea, the lodes were not only "promising," but performing great things,two men and a boy (he referred to Maggot, Trevarrow, and Zackey here)having broken an immense quantity of copper during the last quarter,which was paying splendidly.
At this point, Mr Grenfell, who sat on Mr Cornish's right hand,exclaimed, "Hear! hear!" and a little bald-headed man, with a red noseand blue spectacles, near the foot of the table, echoed "Hear!" withgenuine enthusiasm (for he had been bordering on bankruptcy for somemonths past), and swigged off a full glass of punch without winking.
Thus encouraged, Captain Dan went on to remark that there were six mendriving in Wheal Hazzard (which statement caused a "stranger" whochanced to be at the dinner to observe, in an undertone, that he was notaware they had horses or vehicles of any kind in the mines!), that onecross-cut was also being driven, and three winzes were sinking, and onerise--several of which were opening up tin of first-rate quality, whilein the Narrow shaft, Chicornish, Higher Mine, and Wheal Cock, a greatdeal to the same effect was being done--all of which we leave to theimagination of the reader, merely remarking that howeverincomprehensible these things may appear to him (or her), they createdfeelings of profound joy in the assembled guests, especially in thebreast of the almost bankrupt one with the bald, red, and blueheadpiece.
Mr Cornish afterwards congratulated the adventurers on the success ofthe mine, and the splendid prospects which were opening up to them--prospects which, he had no doubt, would be fully realised ere long. Hereferred also to the condition of the miners of the neighbourhood, andalluded to the fact that the neighbouring mines, Wheal Owles and Levant,were also in a flourishing condition; a matter, he said, for which theyhad reason to be profoundly thankful, for the distress in the districthad been severe and prolonged. The manager's voice deepened at thispoint, and he spoke with pathos, for he had a kindly heart, and histhoughts were at the moment with many a poor miner, in whose littlecottages the effects of gaunt poverty could be traced in scantyfurniture, meagre fare, and careworn brows. He remembered, too, thatonly the week before he had seen poor blind John Batten carried to hisgrave, and had heard the sobs of the bereaved widow, as she attempted totell him how the brave man had forgotten himself to the very last, whenhe put his wasted hand on her head, and said, "I'm goin' to leave thee,Mary, for a time; but cheer up, dear lass, I'll be with Jesus soon, an'have my sight restored, and look wance more 'pon the faces of the dearboys, an' 'pon your own sweet face too, dear lass, when we meet again inheaven."
There was one of the miners and shareholders of Botallack who did notdie, but who lived to enjoy the fruit of his labour and the sunshine ofprosperity. James Penrose recovered--not only his health, but also, insome degree, his sight. One of his eyes had indeed been entirelydestroyed by the explosion which had so nearly killed him, but the otherwas partially restored. A long period elapsed, however, ere he was ableto go about. Then he found his circumstances so much improved that itwas not necessary to resume work underground. Botallack, in which allhis savings had been invested, continued steadily to improve, and fromthe income derived from this source alone he was enabled to live withoutlabouring. But Penrose was not the man to sit down in idleness. Wesleynever had a more earnest follower than this miner of St. Just.Thenceforth he devoted himself to preaching, teaching, and doing good ashis hand found opportunity, and, being an active man as well asconscientious, he laboured to the end of his days in the service of hisLord more energetically than he had ever toiled in the mines.
Penrose and David Trevarrow had always been staunch friends. After theaccident to the former, they became more closely united than before.Trevarrow did not give up underground work; he possessed no shares inany of the mines, but, in common with the rest of the mining community,he benefited by the sunshine of prosperity that became so bright at thatperiod, and found leisure, when above ground, to join his friend in hislabours of love.
They both agreed to make an earnest effort to convince Maggot and JohnCock of the error of their ways--with what amount of success it is noteasy to state, for these worthies were made of stubborn metal, thatrequired a furnace of unusually fierce heat to melt it. However, we arewarranted in concluding that some good was done, from the fact that bothof them gave up smuggling, and, in various other ways, showed indicationof an improved state of mind. Maggot especially gave a signal andunexpected proof of a softened spirit, when, one Sunday morning, as hewas getting ready for chapel, he said to his wife that it was "high timeto send that little chucklehead the baby to Sunday school, for he was nobetter than a small heathen!" The "baby," be it observed, was about sixyears old at the time when this speech was made, and his _protege_ the"chet" was a great-grandmother, with innumerable chets of her own. Itis right to add that, in accordance with this opinion of his father, thebaby was carried off to school that very morning by Zackey and Grace,the first having grown to be a strapping youth, and the other a lovelygirl, for whose sake there were scores of young miners in St. Just whowould gladly have walked ten miles on their bare knees, or dived headforemost into Wheal Hazzard shaft, or jumped over the cliffs into ZawnBuzzangein, or done any other insane act or desperate deed, if, by sodoing, they could have caused one thrill of pleasure to pass through herdear little heart!
It is not necessary, we should think, to say that in the midst of somuch sunshine Oliver Trembath and Rose Ellis thought it ad
visable to"make hay." Old Mr Donnithorne and his excellent wife (of whosegoodness and wisdom, by the way, he became more and more convinced everyday of his life) saw no objection whatever to this hay-making--so theyoung couple were wed at the Wesleyan Chapel of St. Just--CharlieTregarthen, of course, being groomsman--and the only vehicle in the townwas hired to drive them over to Penberth Cove and bliss!
As to George Augustus Clearemout, Esquire--that able managing director,despite his ducking at St. Just, continued to fill his chair and tofulfil his destiny in the airy little street in London, where, for manyyears, he represented Wheal Dooem, and "did" a too confiding public. Inthis work he was ably assisted by Secretary Jack Muddle, who becamequite celebrated as a clear expounder and explainer of veins, lodes,ores, cross-cuts, shafts, levels, winzes, minerals, metals, and mines--insomuch that he was regarded by many of the confiding public whofrequented his office as a more thoroughly learned and scientific manthan George Augustus himself. It is interesting, how ever, to have torecord the curious fact that the too confiding public changed theiropinion at last on this head, and came to regard Secretary Jack as ahumbug, and the managing director as a scoundrel. Unfortunately thischange of opinion did not take place until the whole of the tooconfiding public (the T.C.P., as Clearemout styled them) had lost largesums of money, and a few of them become bankrupt. When affairs hadreached this crisis, one of the T.C.P.--an irascible old gentleman,whose fiery nature seemed to have singed all the hair off his head,leaving it completely bald--went down to Cornwall in a passion to siftthe thing for himself. There he found the Great Wheal Dooem pump-enginegoing full swing, day and night, under the superintendence of one man,while the vast works underground (on which depended the "enormous"dividends promised to and expected by the T.C.P.) were carried on byanother man and a boy. On making this discovery the fiery old gentlemanwith the denuded head left Cornwall--still in a passion--and exploded inthe face of a meeting of the members of the T.C.P., who immediatelyexploded in each other's faces, and appointed an indignation committeeto go and explode, with unexampled fury, in the faces of the managingdirector and Secretary Jack. But these knowing gentlemen, being awarethat the explosion was coming, had wisely betaken themselves to theretirement and seclusion of the Continent.
Without troubling the reader with further particulars, we may say, inconclusion, that the result was the stoppage of Wheal Dooem miningoperations, and the summary dismissal of the two men and the boy. Atthe present day the ruins of that great concern may be seen standing onthe wild sea-cliffs of west Cornwall, solitary, gaunt, and grey, withthe iron "bob" of the pump-engine motionless and pointing up obliquelyto the sky, as if the giant arm of the mine were upraised to protest forever against the villainy and the too confiding folly that had left itstanding there--a monument of wasted and misdirected energy--a cautionto all speculators--a deserted mine--in the language of miners, a"knacked bal."
There are many such "knacked bals" in Cornwall, with their iron "bobs"--horizontal, depressed, or raised aloft, according to the attitude inwhich they expired--holding forth similar firm, silent, and perpetualprotests and cautions. Many Wheal Dooems (which having accomplishedtheir ends may now be termed Wheal Donems) are to be seen all over thecountry on gorse-clad hills and on bold headlands; but, alongside ofthese, may be seen their venerable ancestors, still alive and working;subject, indeed, at times, to fits of depression, when, as theirindomitable and unconquerable managers will tell you, "the price of tinis low," and subject also to seasons of revival, when they are getting a"little better price for tin," but still working on with untiringpersistency whether the price of tin be high or low.
Chief among these, our chosen type, Botallack, may be seen bristling onthe grey cliffs of the "far west" with the Atlantic winds and sprayrevelling amongst its machinery, and the thunder of its stamps givingconstant token that hundreds of stout-hearted, strong-limbed Cornishmenare still hewing out tin and copper from its gloomy depths, as they didin days gone by, and as they will, doubtless, continue to do in time tocome--steadily, sternly, manfully doing their work of sinking andextending the mine deeper down under the sod and further out under thesea.
THE END.
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