LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume I, Issue 94, 18 September 1874, Page 3

LITERATURE.

A MARVELLOUS ESCAPE. (From Chamuers' Journal.) About ten years ago, I was employed as night watchman in a sugar-refinery in Greenock, a town where there are probably more sugar-refineries than in any other in Britain. That in which I was engaged was the largest in the place, and on account of its size there was another watchman besides myself. His name was Blackwood ; he was a widower ; and his only son, a boy of about twelve, used often to come and sleep in the little room where v. e kept watch. There was a large Newfoundland dog that was let loose at night, and used to walk all over the refinery, and was worth half-a-dozen Avatchmen. Our principal duties, of course, were to guard against thieves and fire. We went there at eight o'clock at night, and staid till six in the morning, at which hour the men came to their work. The little room where we eat was made especially for the watchmen. There was a fireplace in it, though there was never any need of a fire, for the sugar-house was always so hot that any additional heat was unnecessary. Except two hard wooden benches, and a shelf in the wall for a lamp, the room had no furniture. There was no inducement for the watchers to go to Bleep there. Blackwood's boy, when he came for the night, used to lie on some sacks and his father's greatcoat, in a corner. Blackwood and I took in some cheap periodicals, and we used to read out these, or a newspaper, in turn, till two or three o'clock, and then we dozed, till it was time for us to go. All our sleep had to be taken during the day. There were cheap trips on the Clyde in those days, as there are still, on Saturdays. Blackwood had promised to take his son a sail, and asked me one day if I would accompany them. I did so ; and we went to Loch Lomond, and spent a very pleasant day, and returned just in time to go to the Bugar-house. It was hot weather at the time, and having done without our usual sleep, we felt very tired. The heat of the sugar-house was not calculated to refresh us, and we could hardly keep our eyes open. We tried reading, as usual, but it was useless. Before ten o'clock Blackwood had fallen Bound asleep. I determined to keep awake, and intended, after a couple of hours or so, to rouse my companion, and take a sleep myself, for I felt it would be impossible to keep watch. all night. I must, however, have fallen asleep unconsciously, and have remained so for several hours. I dreamt that I was in the cabin of the steamer in which I had been that day, and that it was full of smoke, and that I was being suffocated, and could not get out. I awoke as if I were struggling for life, and found the room filled with a stifling vapour, and felt an intense heat, and I heard without the crackling of flames. The sugar-house was on fire.

Blackwood was still asleep, and I knocked him up, and opened the door of the room. A cargo of raw sugar and molasses had just been taken in, and this was piled up on each Bide of the vaulted passage that led from the main door of the refinery. This mass was on fire, and was sending out dense volumes of smoke ; on the other side of us were wooden stairs, which led to various parts of the building, and these were also in flames. The refinery had evidently been on fire for a long time, and we could hear the shouts of the people without. We were surrounded by the flames, and the heat was so great, that it was certain we could not survive long. Blackwood and I looked at each other in dismay. His boy appeared to be calmer than either of us, and suddenly cried out: ' Father, the beer-cellar I' The men who worked in the refinery, on account of the great heat to which they were subjected, had a daily allowance cf beer, which was kept in a stone cellar about twelve or fourteen feet underground. It was to this place the boy referred. The top of the stone stair which led to it was surrounded by fire, but we at once rushed to it, and descended the steps. In passing the flames at the top of the stair, my face was scorched, and my hair singed. The door of the cellar was locked ; but with the strength of desperation we darned ourselves against it and burst it open. How cool it felt, after the fearful heat of the furnace we had just left! But how long would it remain so, was the question that Blackwood and I considered in a few hurried words. We had hardly closed the door when we heard the frightful crash of the falling roof of the refinery, and pieces of burnt wood came hissing and crackling down the stair. We rolled two barrels behind the door, which we did not fear would catch fire, as it was covered with iron, and then we waited, while it began to . grow hotter and hotter. It was quite dark there, although we were so close to the bright flames. I could hear Blackwood praying as he knelt on the floor of the cellar, lie was a good man, I believe, and well prepared for the death that met him that night. I soon felt the choking stench of burnt sugar, and on putting my hand to the floor, I was burnt severely. The melted sugar and scalding molasses were flowing down the stair, and filling the place where we were. The; floor sloped considerably, and 1 retreated to the end farthest from the door. The heat waa growing intense, and the vapor was stifling. I became unconscious, and how long 1 remained so I cannot tell. When I recovered my senses, the heat had not gone, and there was about six inches of water in the place where I was lying. This had come from the fire-engines, and was lukewarm. I could not feci this with my hands, as they and my face

were fearfully scorched, but I did so with my tongue. I had called on Blackwood, but there was no answer ; and by wriggling over with great pain for a few yards, 1 found both he and his son lying dead. The scalding sugar had reached the place where they were, and had apparently stopped there. I could feel the hardened cake under the water. I conjectured that they, like myself, had become unconscious, and had been burnt to death by the boiling sugar. In the agony I was enduring, I envied them. Death had no alarms for me then. The time during which I remained in this place seemed like weeks. I had no hope of escape, as I knew that above, there must be an immense mass, by the parts of the building which had fallen. I had not strength even to reach the door. At last, when'my pain had decreased a little, I fell asleep, or fainting, I cannot tell which ; but when I awoke I felt somewhat relieved, and a longing for life. I also for the first time felt hungry. I managed to get some beer, which revived me considerably. I tried to open the door, but was unable. The silence which pervaded the place, and the consciousness of the presence of the two dead bodies, had their effect on my weak state, and I knew I was becoming delirious. I remember I laughed hysterically, and began to shout. When I stopped, I heard a faint sound far above me : this made me perfectly wild. There was a hammer, which my hand had accidently come against, and I took it, and began beating an empty barrel in frenzy. Then I heard a shout from above, but I was mad now ; and I remember, as if it were yesterday, that I attempted to strike my head with the hammer, and then I lost all recollection. When I regained my consciousness, I found I was in the infirmary. They told me, that when the men were clearing away the rubbish, they heard a sound, and remembering the cellar, had dug down to it. They thought at first that we were all dead ; and it was not till a medical man had seen the bodies, that it was discovered that there was still some life left in me. I lay there for months, and was never expected to recover. A young and strong constitution, however, served me in good stead ; and I was at last able to fill a very good situation, which the owners of the refinery kindly procured for me in England. Ten years have passed since then, and I am glad to say very few effects have remained of that terrible experience. ON BOARD THE DEVASTATION. It was a lovely spring morning last April, and the sun was shining brilliantly as we stepped, from the pier at Portsmouth, on board a boat that was to convey us to that strangest of all sea-monsters, Her Majesty's ship Devastation. As we pull out from the shore, we see the training ship St Vincent robbed of her masts, and the old Victory, both antediluvian vessels, and as powerless, compared with even our modern ironclads, as Noah's ark would be against an old seventy-four. Before us lies 'the Island,' its houses glistening in the sunlight, and its hills standing out clear and well defined against the blue sky. On our left are the three forts at Spithead, still unfinished and still uuarmed, objects that even now are looked upon by some as costly mistakes, which are unnecessary in these days of torpedoes and of Devastation*. Bight ahead of us lies the Devastation itself, looking like anything but a ship. She seems to be as much like what one is accustomed to consider a ship as a turtle is like a fish ; there is nothing shipshape about her, except that she floats on the water, and carries guns and men. As we approach her, our idea as to her unlikcness to a ship becomes more and more confirmed ; and as we step on board, we realise the fact, that we never before saw anything at all like her.

Having made our salute to some eight or ten naval officers who were standing on what would be the deck of a regular sbip, but here, was either a turret, which suddenlyspun round like a whirligig, or a queer kind of slippery roof of something else, which was for some purpose which nobody knew anything about, wo put on our observing spectacles, and unlocked the doors of our ears, so as to see and hear all the wonderful things that were to be seen and heard. We ascertained that this mighty mass of iron, with hugh vitals composed of about twentysix engines, was soon about to get under weigh, and was run out to sea, in order to fire her monstrous guns, aud try practically the working of various mechanical and electrical arrangements which have lately been fitted and adjusted in her. Before the anchor is hauled up, there is time for us just to look round the monster ; and we first ascend a circular turret about twenty-five feet in diameter. In this turret there are two guns, weighing thirty-five tons each ; they throw shot of about seven hundred and fifty pounds, and require to be fed with a bolster of powder containing one hundred and ten pounds. As we stand on this turret, we notice two or three chimney-pots coming about two feet above the plane of the top ; and on peeping down one of these we see a human face surmounted by a cap, and are saluted with ' Good morning.' We find that the chimney-pot is a bullet-proof lookout, from which the inhabitants of the turret can peep out and contemplate the surrounding sea. While we are investigating the upper part of this floating mass, we suddenly find the distant island and the side of the vessel spin round us with enormous speed ; we look down, and then note that a not veiy powerful officer in the turret has turned a small wheel with his finger and thumb, and lo ! the massive turret, coated with enormous plates of iron, the two thirty-five-ton guns and their carriages, and some twenty men, are sent round as easily as a boy can twist a teetotum. The mighty giant steam thinks nothing of moving five hundred tons without noise and without risk ; and so docile is this giant, that a child can control the movements of the mass set in motion by its agency. From the turret we ascend to an upper deck, which does look something like part oi a ship, for their are hammocks at the side, rolled up as usual, aud covered with tarpaulin ; the boa;?, too, hang from 'davits' over the side ; and though we arc walking 0 j it were on the top of a mushroom, still wis now begin to feci wc are on board ship.

Our rinsfc difficulty in looking clown on thn vessel is to tell which is the head and which the stern. To decide this, is as d if tier, It as to discover which its the front, and which the back of a modern lady's bonnet. One end looks like the head ; and Ave walk to the other end of the upper deck, and look down, when an exactly similar shape presents itself. We don't like to ask which is

the head and which the stem, so we look out for sonic sign. We note that there is a huge chain-cable lying on the lower deck atone end, and we had all but decided that this must be the head, when it occurred to us, that as the Devastation was unlike everything else, perhaps she was anchored by the stern. Nelson anchored his ships at Trafalgar by the stern ; so, why should not the Devastation be thus secured ? In fact, we wait for more evidence before we decide so doubtful a question as, which is the head and which the stern of the Devastation.

An officer now kindly asks us if wo will step down to his cabin ; and by dint of many descents, we soon find ourselves in darkness, and wait the successful search for lucifers before we can examine the cabin, for it is below the water, and has no port or window by which daylight can be admitted. As we enter, we encounter a somewhat chill, sepul-chre-flavored gust of air, and our attention is called to a thick pipe running along the roof of the cabin. In this pipe there are many holes, making it look like a colander ; and through these holes air rushes with force enough to extinguish a candle. Wind is forced through this pipe by fans, worked by steam, and a change of air is thus effected in the cabins. We are taken through dark passages, we scramble up and down dark ladders, and we feel we arc lost, for it would be impossible for us to find our way back again from anywhere ; so we follow our guide with desperate struggles to keep up with him, and at length arrive once more in daylight, near the gangway leading to the turrets. After an inspection of the ship, we come to the conclusion that she is one of the most complicated pieces of ship-building ever conceived by man. To be continved.