Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 59, No. 364, February 1846Various
History
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 59, No. 364, February 1846
Various
England -- Periodicals; Scotland -- Periodicals
Frank Trevelyan, almost petrified with horror at the dreadful
catastrophe, which there was just then sufficient light to enable him to
discern the nature of, remained for some moments riveted to the spot
from whence he had witnessed its occurrence; but soon partially
recovering his bewildered faculties, he fell upon his hands and knees,
and approaching the mouth of the shaft, called out, in a tone of
agonizing anxiety to his companion, but with scarcely a hope of being
responded to, when a faint voice, though from an awful depth, assured
him he was yet alive; but, it was to be feared, dreadfully injured; and,
in plain truth, he was in a situation of even greater danger than his
fellow-traveller was then aware of. Poor Vernon Wycherley had fallen
upwards of sixty feet perpendicularly, and had alighted on a projection
of the ground, occasioned by a drift that had been made in the workings,
which alone prevented him from being hurled to the bottom of the pit,
which was of vast depth, though partially filled with water. As it was,
his situation was so perilous, that it seemed only to add to the agony
of impending death, with a very remote prospect of deliverance. Every
thing depended upon his being able to secure himself upon the point of
ground where he then rested; and this being loosened by the force with
which he had fallen upon it, was gradually crumbling from beneath him,
every particle of which, as it gave way, splashing in the water at the
bottom of the shaft produced a deafening crash, which sound rendered him
fearfully conscious of the probability of the whole mass, upon which his
sole chance for safety depended, sinking under him, before the necessary
assistance could arrive. This it soon did to such a degree, that, in
spite of all his efforts, he gradually sank lower and lower, until,
unable longer to retain a footing, his legs were overhanging the awful
gulf, and he was rapidly sliding off, when, by a desperate effort, he
threw up his feet, so that they reached the opposite side of the shaft,
whilst his body still remained on the projecting drift, against which he
firmly planted his back, and with his feet on the opposite side, he was
thus enabled to gain a stationary position; yet, even then, the soil
continually crumbling away, rendered it doubtful how long he might be
able to retain it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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