DEPARTURE FROM VIENNA.—FRANK'S LETTER.—A FAREWELL PROMENADE.—FROM VIENNA TO CRACOW.—THE GREAT SALT-MINE OF WIELICZKA, AND WHAT WAS SEEN THERE.—CHURCHES AND PALACES UNDERGROUND.—VOYAGE ON A SUBTERRANEAN LAKE.
"Here are the passports at last."
"Are you sure they are quite in order for our journey?"
"Yes, entirely so," was the reply; "the Secretary of Legation examined them carefully, and said we should have no trouble at the frontier."
FRED'S REMINDER.
"Well, then," a cheery voice responded, "we have nothing more to do until the departure of the train. Five minutes will complete the packing of our baggage, and the hotel bill is all settled. I am going for a walk through the Graben, and will be back in an hour."
So saying, our old acquaintance, Doctor Bronson, left his room in the Grand Hotel in Vienna and disappeared down the stairway. He was followed, a few minutes later, by his nephew, Fred Bronson, who had just returned from a promenade, during which he had visited the American Legation to obtain the passports which were the subject of the dialogue just recorded.
At the door of the hotel he was joined by his cousin, Frank Bassett. The latter proposed a farewell visit to the Church of St. Stephen, and[Pg 16] also a short stroll in the Graben, where he wished to make a trifling purchase. Fred assented, and they started at once.
They had not gone far before Fred perceived at a window the face of a girl busily engaged in writing. He paused a moment, and then suggested to Frank that he wished to return to the hotel in time to write a letter to his sister before the closing of the mail. "I really believe," said he, "that I should have neglected Mary this week if I had not been reminded by that girl in the window and her occupation."
Frank laughed as he rejoined that he had never yet known his cousin to forget his duty, and it[Pg 17] would have been pretty sure to occur to him that he owed his sister a letter before it was too late for writing it.
ST. STEPHEN'S CATHEDRAL, VIENNA.
They made a hasty visit to the church, which is by far the finest religious edifice in Vienna, and may be said to stand in the very heart of the city. Fred had previously made a note of the fact that the church is more than seven hundred years old, and has been rebuilt, altered, and enlarged so many times that not much of the original structure remains. On the first day of their stay in Vienna the youths had climbed to the top of the building and ascended the spire, from which they had a magnificent view of the city and the country which surrounds it. The windings of the Danube are visible for many miles, and there are guides ready at hand to point out the battle-fields of Wagram, Lobau, and Essling. Our young friends had a good-natured discussion about the height of the spire of St. Stephen's; Frank claimed that his guide-book gave the distance from the ground to the top of the cross four hundred and fifty-three feet, while Fred contended, on the authority of another guide-book, that it was four hundred and sixty-five feet. Authorities differ considerably as to the[Pg 18] exact height of this famous spire, which does not appear to have received a careful measurement for a good many years.
From the church the youths went to the Graben, the famous street where idlers love to congregate on pleasant afternoons, and then they returned to the hotel. Fred devoted himself to the promised letter to his sister. With his permission we will look over his shoulder as he writes, and from the closing paragraph learn the present destination of our old friends with whom we have travelled in other lands.[1]
"We have been here a week, and like Vienna very much, but are quite willing to leave the city for the interesting tour we have planned. We start this evening by the Northern Railway for a journey to and through Russia; our first stopping-place will be at the nearest point on the railway for reaching the famous salt-mines of Wieliczka. You must pronounce it We-litch-ka, with the accent on the second syllable. I'll write you from there; or, if I don't have time to do so at the mines, will send you a letter from the first city where we stop for more than a single day. We have just had our passports indorsed by the Russian minister for Austria—a very necessary proceeding, as it is impossible to get into Russia without these documents. Until I next write you, good-by."
The travellers arrived at the great Northern Railway station of Vienna in ample season to take their tickets and attend to the registration of their baggage. The train carried them swiftly to Cracow—a city which has had a prominent place in Polish annals. It was the scene of several battles, and was for a long time the capital of the ancient kingdom of Poland. Frank made the following memoranda in his note-book:
VIEW OF THE PALACE OF CRACOW.
"Cracow is a city of about fifty thousand inhabitants, of whom nearly[Pg 19] one-third are Israelites. It stands on the left bank of the Vistula, on a beautiful plain surrounded by hills which rise in the form of an amphitheatre. In the old part of the city the streets are narrow and dark, and cannot be praised for their cleanliness; but the new part, which lies outside the ancient defences, is quite attractive. The palace is on the bank of the river, and was once very pretty. The Austrians have converted it into a military barrack, after stripping it of all its ornaments, so that it is now hardly worth seeing. There are many fine churches in Cracow, but we have only had time to visit one of them—the cathedral.
"In the cathedral we saw the tombs of many of the men whose names are famous in Polish history. Polish kings and queens almost by the dozen are buried here, and there is a fine monument to the memory of St. Stanislaus. His remains are preserved in a silver coffin, and are the object of reverence on the part of those who still dream of the ultimate liberation of Poland, and its restoration to its old place among the kingdoms of the world.
KOSCIUSKO, 1777.
"We drove around the principal streets of Cracow, and then out to the tumulus erected to the memory of the Polish patriot, Kosciusko. You remember the lines in our school reader,
"'Hope for a season bade the world farewell,
And freedom shrieked as Kosciusko fell.'
"We were particularly desirous to see this mound. It was made of earth brought from all the patriotic battle-fields of Poland at an enormous expense, which was largely borne by the people of Cracow. The monument is altogether one hundred and fifty feet high, and is just inside the line of fortifications which have been erected around the city. The Austrians say these fortifications are intended to keep out the Russians; but[Pg 20] it is just as likely that they are intended to keep the Poles from making one of the insurrections for which they have shown so great an inclination during the past two or three centuries.
KOSCIUSKO, 1817.
"As we contemplated the monument to the famous soldier of Poland, we remembered his services during our Revolutionary war. Kosciusko entered the American army in 1776 as an officer of engineers, and remained with General Washington until the close of the war. He planned the fortified camp near Saratoga, and also the works at West Point. When our independence was achieved he returned to Poland, and after fighting for several years in the cause of his country, he made a brief visit to America, where he received much distinction. Then he returned again to Europe, lived for a time in France, and afterwards in Switzerland, where he died in 1817. The monument we have just visited does not cover his grave, as he was buried with much ceremony in the Cathedral of Cracow."
"Why don't you say something about the Jewish quarter of Cracow," said Fred, when Frank read what he had written, and which we have given above.
"I'll leave that for you," was the reply. "You may write the description while I make some sketches."
[Pg 21]
"I'm agreed," responded Fred. "Let's go over the ground together and pick out what is the most interesting."
Away they went, leaving Doctor Bronson with a gentleman with whom he had formed an acquaintance during their ride from the railway to the hotel. The Doctor was not partial to a walk in the Jews' quarter, and said he was willing to take his knowledge of it at second-hand.
CHURCH OF ST. MARY, CRACOW.
On their way thither the youths stopped a few minutes to look at the Church of St. Mary, which was built in 1276, and is regarded as a fine specimen of Gothic architecture. It is at one side of the market-place, and presents a picturesque appearance as the beholder stands in front of it.
The Jews' quarter is on the opposite side of the river from the principal part of the city, and is reached by a bridge over the Vistula. At every step the youths were beset by beggars. They had taken a guide from the hotel, under the stipulation that he should not permit the beggars to annoy them, but they soon found it would be impossible to secure immunity from attack without a cordon of at least a dozen guides. Frank pronounced the beggars of Cracow the most forlorn he had ever seen, and Fred thought they were more numerous in proportion to the population than in any other city, with the possible exception of Naples. Their ragged and starved condition indicated that their distress was real, and more than once our young friends regretted having brought themselves face to face with so much misery that they were powerless to relieve.
POLISH JEW OF HIGH RANK.
Frank remarked that there was a similarity of dress among the Jews of Cracow, as they all wore long caftans, or robes, reaching nearly to the heels. The wealthy Jews wear robes of silk, with fur caps or turbans, while the poorer ones must content themselves with cheaper material, according to their ability. The guide told the youths that the men of[Pg 22] rank would not surround their waists with girdles as did the humbler Jews, and that sometimes the robes of the rich were lined with sable, at a cost of many hundreds of dollars.
POLISH JEWS OF THE MIDDLE CLASS.
Fred carefully noted the information obtained while Frank made the sketches he had promised to produce. They are by no means unlike the sketches that were made by another American traveller (Mr. J. Ross Browne), who visited Cracow several years before the journey of our friends.
"But there's one thing we can't sketch, and can't describe in writing," said Fred, "and that's the dirt in the streets of this Jews' quarter of Cracow. If Doctor Bronson knew of it I don't wonder he declined to come[Pg 23] with us. No attempt is made to keep the place clean, and it seems a pity that the authorities do not force the people into better ways. It's as bad as any part of Canton or Peking, and that's saying a great deal. I wonder they don't die of cholera, and leave the place without inhabitants."
In spite of all sorts of oppression, the Jews of Cracow preserve their distinctiveness, and there are no more devout religionists in the world than this people. The greater part of the commerce of the city is in their hands, and they are said to have a vast amount of wealth in their possession. That they have a large share of business was noticed by Fred, who said that from the moment they alighted from the train at the railway-station they were pestered by peddlers, guides, money-changers, runners for shops, beggars, and all sorts of importunate people from the quarter of the city over the Vistula. An hour in the Jews' quarter gratified their curiosity, and they returned to the hotel.
There is a line of railway to the salt-mines, but our friends preferred to go in a carriage, as it would afford a better view of the country, and enable them to arrange the time to suit themselves. The distance is about nine miles, and the road is well kept, so that they reached the mines in little more than an hour from the time of leaving the hotel. The road is through an undulating country, which is prettily dotted with farms, together with the summer residences of some of the wealthier inhabitants of Cracow.
OUR GUIDE IN COSTUME.
On reaching the mines they went immediately to the offices, where it was necessary to obtain permission to descend into the earth. These offices are in an old castle formerly belonging to one of the native princes, but long ago turned into its present practical uses. Our friends were accompanied by a commissioner from the hotel where they were lodged in Cracow; he was a dignified individual, who claimed descent from one of the noble families of Poland, and the solemnity of his visage was increased[Pg 24] by a huge pair of spectacles that spanned his nose. Frank remarked that spectacles were in fashion at Wieliczka, as at least half the officials connected with the management of the salt-mines were ornamented with these aids to vision.
THE INSPECTOR-GENERAL.
A spectacled clerk entered the names of the visitors in a register kept for the purpose, and issued the tickets permitting them to enter the mines. Armed with their tickets, they were conducted to a building close to the entrance of one of the mines, and ushered into the presence of the inspector-general of the works. He was also a wearer of spectacles, and the rotundity of his figure indicated that the air and food of the place had not injured him.
"The inspector-general received us politely—in fact everybody about the place was polite enough for the most fastidious taste," said Frank in his note-book—"and after a short conversation he called our attention to the robes which had been worn by imperial and royal visitors to the mines. The robes are richly embroidered, and every one bears a label telling when and by whom it was worn. The inspector-general treated the garments with almost as much reverence as he would have shown to the personages named on the labels. We realized that it was proper to regard them with respect, if we wished to have the good-will of this important official, and therefore we appeared to be dumb with amazement as he went through the list. When the examination was ended we were provided with garments for the descent. Evidently we were not regarded with the same awe as were the kings and emperors that had preceded us, as our robes were of a very common sort. They were like dressing-gowns, and reached nearly to our heels, and our heads were covered with small woollen caps. I do not believe they were labelled with our names and kept in glass cases after our departure.
"I made a sketch of our guide after he was arrayed in his underground[Pg 25] costume and ready to start. Fred sketched the inspector-general while the latter was talking to the Doctor. The portrait isn't a bad one, but I think he has exaggerated somewhat the rotund figure of the affable official.
"From the office we went to the entrance of one of the shafts. It is in a large building, which contains the hoisting apparatus, and is also used as a storehouse. Sacks and barrels of salt were piled there awaiting transportation to market, and in front of the building there were half a dozen wagons receiving the loads which they were to take to the railway-station. The hoisting apparatus is an enormous wheel turned by horse-power; the horses walk around in a circle, as in the old-fashioned cider-mill of the Northern States, or the primitive cotton-gin of the South. Our guide said there were more than twenty of these shafts, and there was also a stairway, cut in the solid earth and salt, extending to the bottom of the mine. We had proposed to descend by the stairway, but the commissioner strenuously advised against our doing so. He said the way was dark and the steps were slippery, as they were wet in many places from the water trickling through the earth. His arguments appeared reasonable, and so we went by the shaft.
"The rope winds around a drum on the shaft supporting the wheel, and then passes through a pulley directly over the place where we were to descend. The rope is fully two inches in diameter, and was said to be capable of bearing ten times the weight that can ever be placed upon it in ordinary use. It is examined every morning, and at least once a week it is tested with a load of at least four times that which it ordinarily carries. When it shows any sign of wear it is renewed; and judging from all we could see, the managers take every precaution against accidents.
"Smaller ropes attached to the main one have seats at the ends. There are two clusters of these ropes, about twenty feet apart, the lower one being intended for the guides and lamp-bearers, and the upper for visitors and officials. Six of us were seated in the upper group. It included our party of four and two subordinate officials, who accompanied us on our journey and received fees on our return; but I suppose they would scorn to be called guides.
"There is a heavy trap-door over the mouth of the shaft, and the rope plays freely through it. The guides and lamp-bearers took their places at the end of the rope; then the door was opened and they were lowered down, and the door closed above them. This brought the upper cluster of ropes in position for us to take our places, which we did under[Pg 26] the direction of the officials who accompanied us. When all was ready the signal was given, the trap-door was opened once more, and we began our downward journey into the earth.
THE SHAFT.
"As the trap-door closed above us, I confess to a rather uncanny feeling. Below us gleamed the lights in the hands of the lamp-bearers, but above there was a darkness that seemed as though it might be felt, or sliced off with a knife. Nobody spoke, and the attention of all seemed to be directed to hanging on to the rope. Of course the uppermost question in everybody's mind was, 'What if the rope should break?' It doesn't take long to answer it; the individuals hanging in that cluster below the gloomy trap-door would be of very little consequence in a terrestrial way after the snapping of the rope.
DESCENDING THE SHAFT.
"We compared notes afterwards, and found that our sensations were pretty much alike. The general feeling was one of uncertainty, and each one asked himself several times whether he was asleep or awake. Fred said a part of the journey was like a nightmare, and the Doctor said he had the same idea, especially after the noise of the machinery was lost in the distance and everything was in utter silence. For the first few moments we could hear the whirring of the wheel and the jar of the machinery; but very soon these sounds disappeared, and[Pg 27] we glided gently downward, without the least sensation of being in motion. It seemed to me not that we were descending, but that the walls of the shaft were rising around us, while our position was stationary.
"Contrary to expectation, we found the air quite agreeable. The official who accompanied us said it was peculiarly conducive to health; and many of the employés of the mines had been at work there forty or fifty years, and had never lost a day from illness. We had supposed it would be damp and cold, but, on the contrary, found it dry and of an agreeable temperature, which remains nearly the same all through the year. No doubt the salt has much to do with this healthy condition. Occasionally[Pg 28] hydrogen gas collects in some of the shafts which are not properly ventilated, and there have been explosions of fire-damp which destroyed a good many lives. These accidents were the result of carelessness either of the miners or their superintendents, and since their occurrence a more rigid system of inspection has been established.
LAMP-BEARERS.
"We stopped at the bottom of the shaft, which is about three hundred feet deep; there we were released from our fastenings and allowed to use our feet again. Then we were guided through a perfect labyrinth of passages, up and down ladders, along narrow paths, into halls spacious enough for the reception of an emperor, and again into little nooks where men[Pg 29] were occupied in excavating the salt. For several hours we wandered there, losing all knowledge of the points of compass, and if we had been left to ourselves our chances of emerging again into daylight would have been utterly hopeless.
A FOOT-PATH.
"And here let me give you a few figures about the salt-mines of Wieliczka. I cannot promise that they are entirely accurate, but they are drawn from the best sources within our reach. Some were obtained from the under-officials of the mines who accompanied us, and others are taken from the work of previous writers on this subject.
"The salt-mine may be fairly regarded as a city under the surface of the earth, as it shelters about a thousand workmen, and contains chapels, churches, railways, stables, and other appurtenances of a place where men dwell. In fact it is a series of cities, one above the other, as there are four tiers of excavations, the first being about two hundred feet below the surface, and the lowest nearly two thousand. The subterranean passages and halls are named after various kings and emperors who have visited them, or who were famous at the time the passages were opened, and altogether they cover an area of several square miles. In a general way the salt-mines of Wieliczka may be said to be nearly two miles square; but the ends of some of the passages are more than two miles from the entrance of the nearest shaft. The entire town of Wieliczka lies above the mines which give occupation to its inhabitants.
AN UNDERGROUND CHAPEL.
"There is probably more timber beneath the surface at Wieliczka than above it, as the roofs of the numerous passages are supported by heavy beams; and the same is the case with the smaller halls. In the larger halls such support would be insufficient, and immense columns of salt are left in position. In several instances these pillars of salt have been replaced by columns of brick or stone, as they would be[Pg 30] liable to be melted away during any accidental flooding of the mine, and allow the entire upper strata to tumble in. This has actually happened on one occasion, when a part of the mine was flooded and serious damage resulted.
"Our guide said the length of the passages, galleries, and halls was nearly four hundred English miles, and the greatest depth reached was two thousand four hundred feet. If we should visit all the galleries and passages, and examine every object of interest in the mines, we should be detained there at least three weeks. Not a single one of all the workmen had been in every part of all the galleries of the mine, and he doubted if there was any officer attached to the concern who would not be liable to be lost if left to himself.
"Nobody knows when these mines were discovered; they were worked in the eleventh century, when they belonged to the kingdom of Poland, and an important revenue was derived from them. In the fourteenth century Casimir the Great established elaborate regulations for working the mines, and his regulations are the basis of those which are still in force, in spite of numerous changes. In 1656 they were pledged to Austria, but were redeemed by John Sobieski in 1683. When the first partition of Poland took place, in 1772, they were handed over to Austria, which has had possession of them ever since, with the exception of the short period from 1809 to 1815.
"While the mines belonged to Poland the kings of that country obtained a large revenue from them. For two or three centuries this revenue was sufficiently large to serve for the endowment of convents and the dowries of the members of the royal family. The Austrian Government has obtained a considerable revenue from these mines, but owing to the modern competition with salt from other sources, it does not equal the profit of the Polish kings.
"Except when reduced by accidents or other causes, the annual production of salt in these mines is about two hundred millions of pounds, or one hundred thousand tons. The deposit is known to extend a long distance, and the Government might, if it wished, increase the production to any desired amount. But it does not consider it judicious to do so, and is content to keep the figures about where they have been since the beginning of the century. The salt supplies a considerable area of country; a large amount, usually of the lower grades, is sent into Russia, and the finer qualities are shipped to various parts of the Austrian Empire.
"We asked if the workmen lived in the mines, as was currently reported, and were told they did not. 'They would not be allowed to do[Pg 31] so, even if they wished it,' said our guide. 'By the rules of the direction the men are divided into gangs, working eight hours each, and all are required to go to the surface when not on duty. In ancient times it was doubtless the case that men lived here with their families. At one time the mines were worked by prisoners, who did not see daylight for months together, but nothing of the kind has occurred for more than a century at least.'
MEN CUTTING SALT IN THE MINE.
"Several times in our walk we came upon little groups of men working in the galleries; and certainly they were not to be envied. Sometimes they were cutting with picks against perpendicular walls, and at others they were lying flat on their backs, digging away at the roof not[Pg 32] more than a foot or two above their heads. The shaggy lamp-bearers—generally old men unable to perform heavy work—stood close at hand, and the glare of the light falling upon the flashing crystals of salt that flew in the air, and covered the half-naked bodies of the perspiring workmen, made a picture which I cannot adequately describe. I do not know that I ever looked upon a spectacle more weird than this.
FINISHING THE COLUMNS.
"We had expected to see the men in large gangs, but found that they were nearly always divided into little groups. One would think they would prefer any other kind of occupation than this, but our guide told us that the laborers were perfectly free to leave at any time, just as though they were in the employ of a private establishment. There were plenty of men who would gladly fill their places, and frequently they had applications for years in advance. As prices go in Austria, the pay is very good, the men averaging from twenty to fifty cents a day. As far as possible they are paid by the piece, and not by time—the same as in the great majority of mines all over the world.
SUBTERRANEAN STABLES.
"But the horses which draw the cars on the subterranean railways are[Pg 33] not regarded with the same care as the men. They never return to the light of day after once being lowered into the mine. In a few weeks after arriving there a cataract covers their eyes and the sight disappears. By some this result is attributed to the perpetual darkness, and by others to the effect of the salt. It is probably due to the former, as the workmen do not appear to suffer in the same way. Whether they would become blind if continually kept there is not known, and it is to be hoped that no cruel overseer will endeavor to ascertain by a practical trial.
"Every time we came upon a group of workmen they paused in their labors and begged for money. We had provided ourselves with an abundance of copper coins before descending into the mine, and it was well we did so, as they generally became clamorous until obtaining what they wanted. Fortunately they were satisfied with a small coin, and did not annoy us after once being paid.
"I cannot begin to give the names of all the halls, galleries, and passages we went through, and if I did, it would be tedious. We wandered up and down, down and up, forward and backward, until it seemed as if there was no end to the journey. And to think we might have been there three weeks without once repeating our steps! I will mention at random some of the most interesting of the things we saw. To tell the whole story and give a full description of this most wonderful salt-mine in the world would require a volume.
"The chamber of Michelwic was the first of the large halls that we entered, and was reached after a long journey through winding passages and along foot-paths that sometimes overhung places where it was impossible for the eye, aided only by the light of the lamps, to ascertain the[Pg 34] depth of the openings below. In some of the dangerous places there was a rail to prevent one from falling over; but this was not always the case, and you may be sure we kept on the safe side and close to the wall.
A MINING SINGER.
"In the hall we were treated to a song by one of the mining over-seers, an old soldier who had lost an arm in some way that was not explained to us. He had an excellent voice that ought to have secured him a good place in the chorus of an opera troupe. He sang a mining song in quite a melodramatic style; and as he did so the notes echoed and re-echoed through the hall till it seemed they would never cease. In the centre of the hall is a chandelier cut from the solid salt, and on grand occasions this chandelier is lighted and a band of music is stationed at one end of the vast space. Its effect is said to be something beyond description, and, judging from the effect of the overseer's voice, I can well believe it.
"From this hall we went through a series of chambers and galleries named after the royal and imperial families of Poland and Austria, passing chapels, shrines, altars, and other things indicating the religious character of the people employed in the mines or controlling them, together[Pg 35] with many niches containing statues of kings, saints, and martyrs, all hewn from the solid salt. Some of the statues are rudely made, but the most of them are well designed and executed. In some of the chapels worshippers were kneeling before the altars, and it was difficult to realize that we were hundreds of feet below the surface of the earth.
"By-and-by our guide said we were coming to the Infernal Lake. The lamp-bearers held their lights high in the air, and we could see the reflection from a sheet of water, but how great might be its extent was impossible to guess. As we approached the edge of the water a boat emerged from the gloom and came towards us. It was a sort of rope ferry, and we immediately thought of the ferry-boat which the ancients believed was employed to carry departed spirits across the river Styx. Certainly the darkness all around was Stygian, and the men on the boat might have been Charon's attendants.
"We passed down a few steps, entered the boat, and were pulled away from shore. In less than a minute nothing but the little circle of water around us was visible; the sides of the cavern echoed our voices and every other sound that came from our boat. In the middle of the lake we paused to observe the effect of the sound caused by the waves created by the rocking of the boat. It reverberated through the cavern and away into the galleries, and seemed as though it would last forever. When this sensation was exhausted we moved on again. Doctor Bronson asked the guide how far it was to the other end of the lake, but before the answer was spoken we had a fresh surprise.
"GLüCK-AUF!"
"There was a flash of light from a point high above us, and almost at the same instant another, a little distance ahead. The latter assumed the form of an arch in red fire, displaying the greeting 'Glück-auf!' or 'Good-luck!' though this is not the literal translation. We passed under this[Pg 36] arch of red fire, and as we did so the words 'Glück-auf! Glück-auf!' were shouted from all around, and at the same time flashes of fire burst from a dozen places above the lake. We shouted 'Glück-auf!' in reply, and then the voices from the mysterious recesses seemed to be quadrupled in number and volume. The air was filled with flashes of light, and was everywhere resonant with the words of the miners' welcome.
"At the other end of the lake there was a considerable party waiting to receive us, and of course there was a liberal distribution of coin to everybody. I ought to have said at the outset that we arranged to pay for[Pg 37] the illumination of the lake and also of certain specified halls, in addition to the compensation of the guides. The illuminations are entirely proportioned to the amount that the visitors are willing to give for them. It is a good plan to unite with other visitors, and then the individual cost will not be heavy. Twenty dollars will pay for a very good illumination, and fifty dollars will secure something worthy of a prince, though not a first-class one.
FêTE IN THE GRAND SALOON OF ENTERTAINMENT.
"They showed us next through more winding passages, and came at length to the Grand Saloon of Entertainment; which is of immense extent, and has no less than six large chandeliers hanging from the roof. It is lighted on the occasion of the visit of a king or emperor (of course he[Pg 38] has to pay the bill), and the effect is said to be wonderful. There is an alcove at one end, with a throne of green and ruby-colored salt, whereon the emperor is seated. A blaze of light all through the hall is reflected from the myriad crystals of salt which form the roof and sides; the floor is strewn with sparkling salt; the columns are decorated with evergreens; festoons of flags abound through the place; and a band of music plays the airs appropriate to the hall and the guest.
A RETIRED DIRECTOR.
"The workmen and their families assemble in their holiday dress, and when the music begins the whole party indulges in the Polish national dance. It is a strange spectacle, this scene of revelry five hundred feet below the surface of the earth, and probably among the sights that do not come often before the Imperial eyes. These spectacles must be arranged to order, and for weeks before an Imperial or Royal visit a great many hands are engaged in making the necessary preparations. From all I heard of these festivals, I would willingly travel many hundred miles to see one of them.
"By means of the illuminating materials that we brought with us, we were able to get an approximate idea of the character of one of these gala spectacles. After our last Bengal-light had been burned, we continued our journey, descending to the third story by many devious ways, and finally halting in a chamber whose roof was not less than a hundred feet above us.
"'Do you know where you are?' said our guide.
"Of course we answered that we did not.
"'Well,' said he, 'you are directly beneath the lake which we sailed over in a boat a little while ago. If it should break through we should all be drowned, dead.'
"We shuddered to think what might be our fate if the lake should[Pg 39] spring a leak. It did break out at one time and flooded many of the galleries, and for a long while work in all the lower part of the mine was suspended. There have been several fires, some of them causing the loss of many lives; but, on the whole, considering the long time the mine has been opened and the extent of the works, the accidents have been few.
"The deepest excavation in the mine is nearly seven hundred feet below the level of the sea. We did not go there, in fact we did not go below the third story, as we had seen quite enough for our purposes, and besides we had only a limited time to stay in the mine. As we came up again to daylight, hoisted in the same sort of chairs as those by which we descended, we made a final inspection of the salt which comes from the mine.
"'There are three kinds of salt,' said the guide. 'One that is called green salt contains five or six per cent. of clay, and has no transparency; it is cut into blocks and sent to Russia exactly as it comes from the mine. The second quality is called spiza, and is crystalline and mixed with sand; and the third is in large masses, perfectly transparent, having no earthy matter mingled with it. The salt is found in compact tertiary clays that contain a good many fossils; the finest salt is at the lowest levels, and the poorest at the higher ones.'
"Well, here we are at the top of the shaft, tired and hungry, and excited with the wonderful things we have seen. The visit to the salt-mines of Wieliczka is something to be long remembered."
Since the visit herein described, the manner of working the salt-mines of Wieliczka has undergone a decided change. Owing to the influx of a stream the lower levels of the mines were flooded, and for some time remained full of water. In order to free them it was necessary to introduce powerful pumping machinery of the latest designs, and also to replace the old hoisting apparatus with new. Horse-power was abandoned in favor of steam, both for hoisting and pumping; new precautions were taken against fire; all improved systems of mine-working were tested, and those which proved useful were adopted; and to-day the mines of Wieliczka may be considered, in every respect, the foremost salt-mines in the world.