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Riding the Engine
- An extract from The Mine Under The Sea, by Jack Penhale (the pen name used by Levant miner Raymond Harry to tell his true story of life underground at Levant in the early part of the 1900's)

On Monday, it is a quarter to six when Jack awakes. His mother is already astir, and as he hurries downstairs for his breakfast, he casts a furtive glance at her. He notices that she has a tear in her eye. Well she knows the terrible price of a miner's life. She is only 4I, a widow with seven children to care for, and now here is her son, following his father's footsteps " into the mine." No doubt she wishes it could be otherwise ... but this is destiny.

Quietly his mother packs his lunch in a linen bag, and now Jack is ready for his first journey as an underground miner, with his extra boots, trousers and coat.

Just as he is about to leave, his mother presents him with a cylindrical object. Jack's face lights into a smile. His mother has not forgotten that most treasured of a miner's accessories a brass, watertight matchbox. Many a miner owes his life to his matches, kept dry in the box in which they were contained.

And so, almost the complete miner, jack sets out for the mine on the cliff. As he approaches, he sees that the man engine is already working. Some early men are already making their way downwards, and jack wonders what he will find down there-2,000 feet below the surface of the land and under the bed of the sea.

It was " Mad Monday " when Jack Penhale entered the changing house-or "dry," as it is known to the miners-on the day when he was to go underground for the first time at. Mad Monday is the Monday after pay day. At one time it was the custom for miners to get so drunk over the weekend that most of them were unable to go to work on the following Monday, being still too mazed, or befuddled. Hence the term "Mad Monday" or "Maze Monday."

As it is " Mad Monday," the dry is not so full as it will be on other days. But the smell, as ever, is of dirty clothes, sweaty socks and boots, and the air is laden with the smoke of many candles, mixed with that from cigarettes and strong pipe tobacco. The older miners are much addicted to a special brand of twist, smoked in a short clay pipe. Jack wonders how any man can puff at such a pipe.

He hesitates just inside the doorway as the smell and smoke strike him. A village youth, who knows him, looks up.
" What are you doing here, Jack ? "
" I'm starting underground today. "
" Then you're a damned fool," says the youth, " but come and share my locker."

Jack learns that there are so many men employed underground that there are not enough lockers in the dry to go round, and two or three men have to share a locker in which to keep their clothes.

To jack, everything seems at sixes and sevens, but out of it all comes a kind of routine. The men remove the clothes they have worn to the mine, and in their place they don just a pair of linen trousers, a thin coat, which has two or three pockets a pair of stout hobnail boots, worn without stockings, and most but not all, have a strong miner's helmet, on which is carried the candle, the only source of illumination underground.

Coarse shouts and vulgar words are bandied across the large room as some of the men recognise others with whom they have spent an hilarious weekend. Their clothes are stained red from contact with the wet muck in which they work.. jack, in his new white suit, feels very conspicuous. You can always tell a " new man " by his clean clothes.

Some men move outside to collect tools and supplies of dynamite, and take them to the pit head, whence they will be lowered in a skip to the levels they require.

Now Jack himself is ready for his first trip underground, and he looks round for the Shift Boss, finding him at the far end of the building, where he is having a violent discussion with a miner-apparently about the futility of trying to get a good day's work done on a " Mad Monday."

Glad to get away from the argument, the Shift Boss turns to Jack: " So you're ready to go underground, lad," he says, and then, shouting across the room, calls : " Will ! "

A miner looks up, and saunters across. " Take the new lad underground on his first shift," says the Shift Boss.

Will is a good miner, and a capable, steady man. The bosses recognise his ability. Not to everyone do they entrust the safety of a new worker, for this is not a mine where a man can enter the " cage " and be lowered to his work. This is no ordinary mine. This is the Levant, the mine which has been yielding up riches for a hundred years. No one knows the full extent of its workings. There is no " cage " in the main shaft. This is the champion of the Cornish mines ... and it has an ancient man engine as the means of lowermg and raismg its miners.

Having supplied himself with half-a-dozen candies and made sure that he has his matches, his pipe and tobacco, Will leads the way across the dry. " Come on, boy," he says.

They stop before a desk, where sits a bespectacled, kindly man, a man who is widely known and widely loved. To every one he is " Dick the Marker." He is the mine's timekeeper.
"Well. Jack, you are going to be a miner?"
“Yes, sir," says Jack.
" Well, then, I must put your name in this book here, otherwise you will be working and get no pay. Be sure to see me every morning."

To be honest, it would be very difficult to enter or leave the mine without seeing him, or his seeing you, for his desk is at the top of the circular stairway leading from the dry down to the man engine. He marks down the name of everyone as they enter or leave. Hence his name, " Dick the Marker."

Other men, too, have been passing Dick and making their way down the stairway. " Come on, boy," says Will, " it's time for us to go." They light their candles and leave the warmth of the dry for the darkness of the tunnel. Will leads the way down the slippery, winding stairway, and they come to the floor of a sloping, covered passage, leading to the top of the man engine.

Halfway along the passage there is a recess full of wet clay, or slime. Will takes a handful and proceeds to wrap it round his candle. With a few deft manipulations he shapes the clay as a holder, leaving about an inch of the candle protruding from it. He firmly places holder and candle on the front of his hat, and, grabbing another handful, treats Jack's candle in the same way and dabs it on Jack's helmet.

Will seems to have no trouble in carrying his light on his head, but to Jack it seems as if he has something on his hat which, at the slightest movement, will fall off, and he holds his neck stiffly.
" Come on, boy," says Will once again, and they move on down the passage, which is about 6o yards long. Now they are at the top of the shaft, and jack sees a bunch of miners on a small platform, each waiting his turn to get on the top step of a huge, plunging wooden rod, activated in its up-and-down motion by an engine on the surface.

Jack has often seen this man engine from the surface, but now, as he waits his turn to ride on the machine, he begins to wonder, for the first time, if he would not have been better off at his old job.

From close quarters the machine looks like an antediluvian giant. The huge wooden rod which descends into the shaft is just 1,600 feet from top to bottom, and there are small platforms, or steps, attached to it all the way down at I2-f00t intervals. At the sides of the shaft, all the way down to the bottom of the rod, there are corresponding platforms, also spaced at 12-foot intervals. These platforms are known to the miners as sollars.

Will does not hurry, for it is still only a quarter to seven, and daylight has not yet come for the people on the surface. “ Watch the others," he says.

Up and down, up and down. Six times every minute this unwieldy contraption rises and falls, and every mmute six men disappear from the tunnel's mouth into the shaft. Still more men arrive, and they wait their turn to launch themselves on to the top step and disappear downwards. It looks easy, but Jack knows that their ease of movement is born of experience.

Jack and Will will ride together, two on one step, and the miner tells Jack to get ready, for the man for whom Will has been waiting has arrived. He will come down the shaft immediately behind them, and, in the event of their missing a step, he will yield his step to them. jack's neck is feeling stiff already from holding his head still, but he knows he must have a light, and he does not complain.

" Ready, Jack," says Will, as, the rod starts to rise again after one of its endless plunges. " The step is here ... right, step on." Jack grasps the iron handle which is attached to the rod about four feet above every step, and his feet find the step, rather clumsily. Will glides in behind him on the same step.
" Don't grip the handle too tightly," he warns, as they begin to go down. " Right, step off," he says, as, the rod reaches the bottom of its 12-foot stroke, and Jack is guided on to the sollar by Will. Another step comes up.
" Step on," and again jack grasps the handle, steps on, and is plunged down another I2 feet. " Step off." Up goes the step they have just left, and up comes another from below. " Step on." They drop down another I2 feet. " Step off, step on, step off." Jack wonders if he will ever be able to do it by himself.

Their only illumination now is that supplied by their candles, and Will tells Jack to watch for the handle instead of looking for the step. It is by the feel of the handle that the miner can tell when the engine has reached the top of its stroke and jack, grasping the handle, begins to feel, too, that momentary hesitancy before the rod begins to descend again. It is in this split second, the turning of the centre., that the miners glide on to the steps.

Up and down, up and down. That is the motion of this rod,, on which there are 133 steps-and 133 men. As fast as one man gets off at the bottom, another is added to the top. It takes nearly half-an-hour for the first man to get to the bottom but after that six men will arrive every minute.

Jack has now become aware of the rocky sides of the chimney like shaft, glistening with dampness in the gleam of a candle. The smell coming from below is dank and musty. They continue their automaton-like motion, on and of, on and off. Suddenly there is a draught. Here there is a big launder crossing the shaft, carrying the waste water from the higher reaches of the mine, through a tunnel or adit, out to the cliff, for they are still above sea-level, although it seems to Jack that they have descended to a great depth.

Great timbers stretch across the shaft, sollars are slippery, and the air is warm. On and off, on and off, watching for the handle, grasping it with the left hand, Jack and his guide go down and down, quietly and smoothly. There is no noise, no fuss about this giant, which has served the miners faithfully for over 50 years.

Now there is another draught. Another deep adit drains off water that has percolated into the mine from the miles of levels above. Instead of allowing this water to go down into the lower working, from which it would have to be pumped again, it is cheaper to convey it by launders out to the sea. That is where the draught is coming from, outside on the cliffs, where the dawn of a new morning is beginning to break over a restless grey sea.

But there can be no stopping for Jack and his companion. Each step on this engine is occupied, and only now has Jack become aware of the light below him on the head of another man., On, down, off ; on, down, off. Now they are at the 24-fathom level. and Jack sees a huge box-like affair, filled with stones and iron, and fastened to the rod on which they are riding. Will explains that it is a balance box, relieving the engine at the surface of the full weight of the rod.

Down, down, still deeper down. Suddenly the shaft assumes larger proportions, and Jack can hear the clear ring of men's voices below him. This is the 6o-fathom level, the place where the miners sing, where the sound effects are those of a church. Now we are below the level of the sea, 240 feet below it, in this chimney hewn out of the solid rock, where the rod slides up and down, bearing its human cargo.

On, down and off. On, down and off. Down, down, still deeper down. Now Jack Penhale, a lad Of 14, is making his first descent of the Levant Mine, " the Mine under the Sea," by means of the equally famous man engine, has reached the 6o-fathom level ... This is the place where the miners sing, where the sound effects are like those of a church.

Two hundred and forty feet below sea level, in this chimney hewn out of solid rock, where the rod slides up and down, bearing its human cargo, the man above asks: " How is the boy doing ? "
" He's doing nicely," replies Will, who is riding on the same step as jack, and, even in these strange surroundings, Jack feels that he is becoming one of them.

On, down, off. On, down, off. So the journey downwards continues. Eighty fathoms down, and squared timbers keep the walls of the shaft from falling in here. Almost for the first time Jack notices that beside the rising and falling rod of the engine there is a ladderway leading down the shaft, and a stout wire rope, which can be used to signal the engine driver far up above.

A strong smell of pipe tobacco floats up to Jack or perhaps it is Jack who goes down to meet the smoke. It does not add to his comfort, but he says nothing, for fear of a sharp rebuke: he knows that a miner would as soon go without food as his pipe.

Past the 110-fathom level, where there is another balance bob at work . . . a huge box with its burden of stone rising and falling with the motion of the rod. Will keeps up a lively chatter explaining their position as a sailor views his landmarks. Jack's neck is beginning to feel stiff from holding the candle on his helmet, and Will, taking it from him, says: " Don't be afraid to move your head; I'll hold your candle for a while."

What a relief ! But it is short-lived. In another moment or two Will gives the candle back, with the clay around it re-moulded and the wick suitably trimmed, but, he says, “Carry it in your hand for a few steps."

Distance in the shaft is measured by steps and not by time. On, down off. On, down, off. The ceaseless motion goes on. Now they are at the I50-fathom level. Here the shaft is small, with barely room for the rod with its step. Will squeezes tightly against the boy on the same step, but even then his back rubs against the rocky wall. Three steps like that, and they are through the narrowest part.

Now the ride becomes easier again. Down to the I70-fathom level, where three men who have been riding on a lower step have got off and are awaiting the arrival of a mate before going into one of the tunnels leading into the mine. On, down, off. This, it seems to Jack, is the longest ride he has ever had. 180 fathoms, 190, where there is another bunch of men having a hearty laugh. But still the journey continues. Not for jack the upper levels, which are held in something like disdain by the miners who toil in the deeper sphere. Down, down, down they go. Will tells Jack that they are now approaching the bottom of this mighty rod, and soon they are at the 266-fathom level. Here they leave their step and watch it as it ascends its 12 feet to bring down the man who has been above them all the way down. Then it will rise up again for the next man, and the next, and the next, until, at last, all the men who were singing and shouting in the dry a short while ago will have been delivered to their various levels.

Jack has no time for rumination. Will and his mate start moving into the tunnel that leads from the man engine to the pumping shaft, about a hundred yards away. The floor is rough, the roof is low in places, and the level is narrow, so that they have to go in single file.
" Mind your head, boy," is the warning given by the men as they hurry forward. Twisting, stumbling, turning, Jack has some difficulty in keeping pace with them as he carries his precious candle in his cupped hand to prevent it from being blown out.

In a few minutes they arrive at the pumping shaft, where there is a ladderway leading further down into the gloom, and here again there is another plunging rod so close to the ladders that climbers have to be careful; if the rod struck him, the unfortunate miner would be knocked down the shaft.

Here the candle must again be placed on the head in order to leave the hands free to grip the rungs of the ladder. When the miner is using a ladder, his life depends on his hands as well as his feet, for he does not look down to see where he is going. He accepts the fact that the next rung is where it ought to be ... but just in case a rung should be loosened or displaced, he keeps a sure and steady grip with his hands, and that would prevent him from falling.

Jack begins to wonder what lies in store for him below, for here in this shaft the beam plunges up and down in the same manner as the man engine which he has so shortly left. Here there is the rattle of chains and the swish of water going through a large vertical pipe, being forced up from one level to the higher level above by the sheer weight of the immense wooden rod. This is the Comish pump ... probably the sturdiest and cheapest water pump ever made.
" Now, Jack, I will go down first," says Will. " Then you will come next and Tom will come after you. Be careful not to come too quickly or you will step on my hands and if you do that, I will break your neck."

Downwards they go, the iron staves ringing to the touch of heavy boots. Down to the bottom of this first ladder, where they step off to a flimsy-looking platform, at the side of which is the top of another ladder.

So down again on another three ladders, and Jack finds himself on another level and steps back a little to take stock of his surroundings, watching the pump go up and down. But Will has no time to waste, and, plucking jack's sleeve, he says:
" Come on with me." They pass by the shaft and immediately come to another shaft, which has a stout piece of wood across its width to act as a gate, and to prevent the unwary from falling into it.

Here is the station of this level, the 278-fathom level, and here, for the first time since leaving the surface, jack sees about a dozen miners, some sitting on upturned trams, one or two on boxes, the rest leaning against the granite walls of this underground cavern.
" Now," says Will, " I shall leave you here, so find a seat and don't move away until the shift boss arrives, and when you have finished work for the day, you are to wait for me up at the man engine."

Jack assures the miner that he will do as he is told, and looks about to find a resting place. Spotting a large baulk of timber, known to all miners as " a whole piece," he sits down and takes stock of the situation. This station is fairly well lit by a dozen candles which the miners have stuck on to the walls by means of clay, and most of the men here are also awaiting the arrival of the shift boss who will allocate a task to each man.

Will and Tom have disappeared into the mouth of a tunnel leading to the inner workings, and Jack now sees that there is also a small railway going into the tunnel. Two men are busy greasing the wheels of some trams which they will use to bring back the broken ore.

Then jack hears a rattling, rushing noise coming from the nearest shaft, towards which several of the men move. Into sight comes the skip, which will hoist the ore, but on this, its downward journey, it has brought a supply of sharpened drill steel.

As soon as the skip comes to a stop, one of the waiting miners climbs on to it and begins to discharge the contents by throwing the roped-up drills on to the floor of the station. Each waiting man examines the drills by the light of his candle, and, on finding his own personal set, slings them on to his shoulder and prepares to depart for his working place, which will probably be a mile from here ... out under the sea.

Now the shift boss appears, and is immediately'surrounded by the miners. " You help Dick," he says to Bob. " You go down to 302, Sam," he tells another ... and in a few minutes each man has left to go to his appointed task. Only Jack, the shift boss, and a miner by the name of Henry Marden, are left.

Henry is the maintenance man on this, the main level of the mine, and he it is who has the unthankful task of " breaking in " the new boys. Well-built, of middle age, and slow of movement, he is held in great esteem by his fellow workers, for he is a local preacher of more than usual oral ability. He looks at Jack, asks his name, and then says: "All right, my son, come with me."

Jack's mining life has started, but he has a lot to learn.
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