A Coal Town Crawls Back From the Fire That Entombed Forty Miners

Marvelous changes have taken place at Newcastle since December 17 last, when the startling news came over the wire that the Coal Creek mine was on fire and forty miners entombed. No sooner had every man, young and old, been rescued from the burning pit than Superintendent Corey was at work with a large force of men, and the mines are today producing 350 tons; before next September they will be able to give to the world, at the lowest calculation, 1,000 tons a day — an amount equal to the mine that went up in smoke and flame.

Whereas the mouth of the old Coal Creek mine is located a mile and a half from Newcastle up the Columbia & Puget Sound railroad, the new field of operation has for its head the very center of the town. Here, upon a plateau made for the most part of solid rock and embracing at the outside not more than three acres, the entire outside surface machinery for working the largest mine is located. Already the pick and shovel and the tremendous energy of steam power have worked their way into the bowels of the earth to such an extent that veins whose depth equals forty-eight feet and eight inches are ready to be torn from mother earth.

A Post-Intelligencer reporter crossed Lake Washington on the steamer Quicksetep to Newcastle landing and rode three and a half miles through heavy woods to the little town of Newcastle, with its hotel, two churches, school and a store or two. Superintendent Corey, Assistant Superintendent Anderson and Company Physician Dr. George T. Sparling were on hand to take the trip down into the earth.

It is not a good plan to go into a coal mine with summer shoes or good clothes. Superintendent Corey looked as if ready for a bear hunt in his blue overalls and jumper, rubber boots and miner's cap with its little lamp. The party descended the steep slope in a car let down by the hoisting rope, past the water level, into chambers of coal where the miners work their ten-hour shifts at the chutes. In one side passage, reached by steps up the wall, was a stable of mules — Prince, Mollie, Fannie, Harry, Dolly and Nellie. These animals work on, day in and day out, in darkness or artificial light, until death takes them or they receive some injury. A great fan on the surface drew the air up the airways with a rush, and the report notes the coal bunkers, the endless chain that hauls the empty cars back to the slope, the hoisting engines of 2,000 horse power, and the several means of escape provided in case of accident.

John McKnight, Newcastle's local historian, told how 'old man Lewis' of Seattle, about twenty-six years ago, got hold of the Newcastle mining property, sold it for cash, and then used to guard Dexter Horton's bank nights for fear someone would steal the money. The coal was taken down to Lake Washington, first by mules, then on the old trestle, ferried across on a scow towed by the steamer Addict, then across Lake Union to the old railroad that wound up at the foot of Pike street. Capt. Sam Blair, of San Francisco, took the property through a mortgage in July, 1879; on February 5, 1878, the Columbia & Puget Sound railroad took out its first load with the engine Alki.

Later the party entered the gangway of the old water level of Vein No. 2 of the abandoned Coal Creek mine. One and a half miles up the track were seen the remnants of the Coal Creek mine. Its mouth, from which on the 17th of December flames shot into the air 100 feet, is now blocked with dirt and wood, but the 2,000-foot-deep mine does not seem to be nearly filled. Every now and then it caves in deep down and gives the few people who live near it a little fright.