Carrara—The Pentelikon—The Parian Quarries—Rosso antico and Verde antico—The Porphyry of Elfdal—The Gypsum of Montmartre—The Alabaster of Volterra—The Slate Quarries of Wales—‘Princesses’ and ‘Duchesses’—‘Ladies’ and ‘Fat Ladies’—St. Peter’s Mount near Maestricht—Egyptian Quarries—Haggar Silsilis—The LatomiÆ of Syracuse—A Triumph of Poetry.

Besides metals, and the various minerals mentioned in the previous chapter, the solid earth-rind furnishes an inexhaustible supply of marbles, slates, and stones for building or paving; and their extraction occupies a vast number of industrious hands.

In a popular work on geology, published some years ago, Mr. Burat informs us that about 70,000 persons were employed in the 18,000 more or less important quarries at that time worked in France, and that the produce of their labour amounted to a value of more than 2,000,000l.

There can be no doubt that the quarries of England or Germany are at least equally productive, and thus a very moderate estimate leads us to the conclusion that the quarries of Europe, from those which furnish the costliest marble to those which yield the commonest building-stone, employ at least half a million of workmen, and produce an annual value of no less than 12,000,000l., a sum which is probably doubled or trebled before the heavy materials can be placed in the hands of the consumer. A land ribbed with stone, like England, has therefore a considerable advantage over a flat alluvial plain, like Holland, as it possesses in its rocky foundations a source of wealth which nature has denied to the latter.

Though several other stones, such as granite and porphyry, are susceptible of a fine polished surface, and serve for the decoration of palaces and churches, yet marble or pure compact limestone is chiefly used for ornamental purposes, both on account of its beautifully variegated tints, and its inferior hardness, which allows it to be more easily worked. Our Derbyshire and Devonshire quarries supply a great variety of richly coloured marbles; but the best material for the sculptor is supplied by the limestone mountains of Carrara, which furnish a homogeneous marble of the purest white, with a fine granular texture, resembling that of loaf sugar. These far-famed quarries, which were worked by the ancients, having been opened in the time of Julius CÆsar, are situated between Spezzia and Lucca, in the Alpe Apuana, a small mountain-group no less remarkable for its bold and sharp outlines than for its almost total isolation from the monotonous chain of the Apennines, from which it is separated by a wide semicircular plain. Where the Alpe Apuana faces the sea, it is chiefly formed of magnesian and glimmer slate, in which large masses of limestone are imbedded; but the more inland part of the group belongs entirely to the limestone formation, and abounds in romantic scenery and noble peaks towering to a height of six thousand feet above the level of the sea. Towards its north-western extremity rises Monte Sacro (5,200 feet in height), the famous marble mountain on whose slopes are scattered the quarries to which the small town of Carrara owes its ancient and world-wide celebrity.

The quarries themselves by no means afford an imposing sight, as they are mostly small, and very badly worked; but it is interesting to watch the transport of the huge blocks of superb material from the various glens in which the quarries are situated, while the numerous water-mills for cutting or polishing the marble enliven the whole neighbourhood.

In the town of Carrara numerous sculptors are constantly employed in rough-hewing the marble into various forms, such as capitals, friezes, busts, &c., &c., in order to diminish the cost of transport, or to discover faults in the stone before it is shipped. There are also shops where marble trinkets or ornaments are exposed for sale; but Florence, Leghorn, and Genoa are the chief dÉpÔts of ready-made marble articles, such as vases, urns, sculptured chimney-pieces, and copies of renowned statues. Different kinds of fruit are also executed in marble, and with the aid of colour made to imitate nature so closely as to deceive the eye.

In Carrara the inferior qualities of marble are used for building and paving, as it is here the cheapest material. The window and door frames, the flooring and the chimney slabs, in even the meanest houses, are made of marble, and form a striking contrast to the squalid poverty of the remainder of the furniture.

The quarries which furnished the material for the finest works of the Grecian chisel partake of the interest which attaches to every vestige of ancient art.

About eight miles to the north of Athens rises the Pentelikon, or Mount Penteles, from whose flanks was excavated the marble that served for the construction of the Parthenon, of the Temple of the Olympian Zeus, and of the other matchless edifices of the Athenian Acropolis. No other quarries in the world can boast of their material having undergone a more beautiful transformation, for never has marble been more highly ennobled than by the genius of Pheidias! The ancient roads ascending from the foot of the mountain to the quarries still show the traces of the sledges on which were transported the huge blocks of more than twenty tons in weight that now lie scattered among the ruins of the Acropolis.

On the summit of the Pentelikon the Athenians had placed a statue of Pallas Athene, that the goddess might overlook the land devoted to her worship. Here, from a height of 3,500 feet, she looked down upon the plain of Marathon, and many other spots of everlasting renown; but the outlines of the prospect are monotonous and naked, and require for their embellishment the beautifying remembrances of the past.

Mount Marpena, in the island of Paros, furnished the most renowned statuary marble of ancient times. It was called Lychnites because its quarries were worked by lamp-light, in deep, minelike excavations; and the difficulty and cost of its extraction show how highly it was prized. It has a yellowish white colour and a texture composed of fine shining scales lying in all directions. The celebrated Arundelian marbles at Oxford consist of Parian marble, as does also the Medicean Venus. More than twenty centuries have elapsed since the Parian quarries were abandoned in consequence of the decay of Grecian art; but in our enterprising days a company has been formed (1857) for working the beautiful marble which has been recently discovered near St. Minas, not far from the site of the ancient quarries, and is said to be superior not only to that of Carrara but even to the renowned Lychnites of the ancients.

The quarries which in olden times furnished the beautifully coloured marbles called Rosso antico and Verde antico had likewise for many centuries been abandoned and totally forgotten. In 1846 they were rediscovered on the island of Tino and in the Maina by Professor Siegel, who soon after undertook to work them, and has furnished, among others, a large number of the beautiful columns of Rosso antico which decorate the interior of the court of the basilica of St. Paul’s in Rome. The hammer of the quarryman once more resounds in the wilds of the Taygetos, and the lawless robber of the Maina already feels the beneficial influence of industry.

On the slopes of the mountains which bound the impetuous Oesterdal Elbe in Sweden, in a wild and desolate country, where the poverty of the people is so great that they frequently grind the bark of fir-trees to mix it with their bread, are situated the finest quarries of porphyry which Europe possesses. This beautiful stone, which attracts the eye even in its unpolished state, consists of a red-brown or blood-red mass, in which numerous small flesh-coloured felspar pieces are embedded. After having been rough-hewn on the spot, the blocks are transported to the neighbouring works of Elfdal, where they are cut and polished into slabs, vases, chimney-pieces, and other articles fit for the decoration of palaces. The contrast is most striking when, after having traversed the barren neighbourhood, and still deeply impressed with the sight of poverty and distress on his road, the traveller suddenly finds himself before a group of handsome buildings which at once bear witness to the activity within.

Besides the red porphyry of Elfdal, that of the Altai Mountains in Asia deserves to be noticed. It consists of a brown-red mass with snow-white crystals, and is capable of a very fine polish. The quarries are situated on the face of a high rock on the left bank of the Kurgun, one of the wildest mountain streams of the Altai, about one hundred miles from the town of Kolywansk, where it is cut and polished.

Gypsum, or sulphate of lime, and the peculiar form of that mineral called Alabaster, are substances of considerable importance in the arts. Rendered more valuable by a slight admixture of carbonate of lime, the gypsum of Montmartre, near Paris, has long been celebrated for its excellence as a cement or stucco. It is found resting on a limestone of marine origin, and in some places appears immediately beneath the vegetable soil, so that it can be readily and conveniently worked without having recourse to subterranean excavation. These quarries furnish the whole of northern France with the well-known plaster of Paris, and the value of their annual produce amounts to not less than 100,000l.

When sulphate of lime or gypsum assumes the opaque, consistent, and semi-transparent form of alabaster, it is worked like marble. The pure white and harder varieties are usually employed for the sculpture of statues and busts; while the softer kinds are cut into vases, boxes, lamps, and other ornamental objects. The alabaster quarries in the neighbourhood of the ancient Etruscan town of Volterra are the most famous in Europe, and have afforded employment for many centuries to her industrious population. Volterra exports her beautiful produce to all parts of the world, even as far as the interior of China. Beggary is here unknown (a rare case in Italy), for even women and children are all employed in cutting, sawing, rasping, or filing alabaster. In the remotest antiquity, when the city was still called Volathri or VolaterrÆ, this industry was practised within her walls, and a collection of sepulchral urns and other works of Etruscan art contained in the town-hall bears testimony to her ancient skill. Now, however, art seems to have degenerated into mere manufacturing ability; the statues and other objects are almost always repetitions of the same models, and but very rarely some speculative person introduces a novelty, for the purpose of obtaining a somewhat higher price for his wares.

Great Britain possesses apparently inexhaustible quantities of alabaster in the red marl formation in the neighbourhood of Derby, where it has been worked for many centuries. The great bulk of it is used for making plaster of Paris, and as a manure, or as the basis of many kinds of cements. For these common industrial purposes it is worked by mining underground, and the stone is blasted by gunpowder; but this shakes it so much as to render it unfit for works of ornament, to procure blocks for which it is necessary to have an open quarry. By removing the superincumbent marl, and laying bare a large surface of the rock, the alabaster, being very irregular in form, and jutting out in several parts, can be sawn out in blocks of a considerable size and comparatively sound. This stone, when preserved from the action of water, which soon decomposes it, is extremely durable, as may be seen in churches all over this country, where monumental effigies many centuries old are still as perfect as when they proceeded from the sculptor’s chisel. The Derbyshire alabaster, commonly called Derbyshire spar, gives employment to a good many hands in forming it into useful and ornamental articles. Another kind of alabaster also found in Derbyshire is crystallised in long needlelike silky fibres, which, being susceptible of a high polish and quite lustrous, is used for making necklaces, bracelets, brooches, and other small articles.

Besides her inexhaustible coal, iron, and lead mines, Wales possesses in her slate quarries a great source of mineral wealth. For this article, which many would suppose to be but of secondary importance, is here found in such abundance and perfection as to command a ready market all over the world. Thus, in North Wales the face of the mountains is everywhere dotted or scarred with slate quarries, of which by far the most important and largest are those of Llandegui, six miles from Bangor, in which more than three thousand persons are employed. This circumstance alone will give an idea of their extent, but still more their having their own harbour, Port Penrhyn, which holds vessels of from 300 to 400 tons, and whence slates are sent not only to all parts of Great Britain, but even to North America. The cost of the inclined planes and railroads which serve to transport the slates from the quarries to the port is said to have amounted to 170,000l. The masses of slate are either detached from the rock by blasting, or by wedges and crowbars. They are then shaped on the spot into the various forms for which they are destined to be used.

Though the quarries of Llandegui are unrivalled, yet there are others which give employment to workmen whose numbers range from a thousand to fifteen hundred. In those that export their produce by way of Carnarvon, which owes its prosperity almost entirely to this branch of industry, about 2,300 men were employed in the year 1842, and since then their number has very much increased. Walking on the handsome new quay of the town, the visitor everywhere sees slates ready for shipment in the numerous small vessels which crowd the picturesque harbour. They are heaped up and arranged or sorted in large regular piles according to their dimensions or quality, the ‘ladies’ and ‘fat ladies’ apart, as also the ‘countesses,’ ‘marchionesses,’ ‘princesses,’ ‘duchesses,’ and ‘queens,’ for by these aristocratic names the slate merchants distinguish the various sizes of the humble article they deal in.

Kohl, the celebrated traveller, remarks that, whenever a new branch of industry springs up in England, a number of active hands and inventive heads set to work to extend its application. This was also the case with the Welsh slates, when, about half a century ago, they first began to attract the notice of the commercial world. A polish was soon invented in London which gave them the appearance of the finest black marble. As they are easily worked with the aid of a turning lathe, they can thus be used for the manufacture of many useful and ornamental articles, which have all the lustre of ebony, and may be obtained at a much cheaper rate.

The quarries of St. Peter’s Mount, near Maestricht in the Netherlands, are probably the most extensive in Europe. For the white tufaceous limestone of the mountain has been used from time immemorial both for building and manuring, and the enormous extent of its caverns is perhaps even owing in a greater measure to the agriculturist than to the architect. And yet St. Peter’s Mount, situated near a town of moderate extent, would hardly have been excavated beyond the limits of a common quarry if the broad Meuse, flowing at its foot, had not opened towards Holland an almost unlimited market for its produce. Sure of being able to dispose of all the materials they can possibly extract from the earth, the quarrymen of the neighbourhood are thus yearly adding new passages to the labyrinths at which so many generations of their forefathers have toiled from age to age.

In spring and summer they are mostly occupied with agricultural pursuits, and then but rarely leave the light of day to burrow in the entrails of the earth by the dismal ‘sheen’ of smoky lamps; but as soon as the approach of winter puts a stop to the labours of the field, they descend into the cavities of the mountain, and begin to excavate the vast mounds of stone or grit which are to be shipped in the following spring.

Accompanied by a guide, the stranger enters these amazing quarries, that extend for miles into the interior of the mountain, and is soon lost in wonder at their endless passages, perpetually crossing each other to the right and left, and ending in utter darkness. The dismal grandeur of these dark regions is increased by their awful silence, for but rarely a drop of water falls from the vaults into a small pool below, and even the voice of man dies away without awakening an echo.

But in order to make one feel the full impression of night and silence, the guide, after penetrating to some distance into the interior of the cave, extinguishes his torch. A strange sensation of awe then creeps over the boldest heart, and by an almost irresistible instinct the stranger seeks the nearest wall, as if to convince himself that he has at least the sense of touch to depend upon where the eye vainly seeks for the least ray of light, and the ear as vainly listens for a sound. Then also he feels how dreadful must have been the agonies of the despairing wretches who, having lost their way in these dark labyrinths, prayed and wept and shouted in vain, until their last groans died away unheard.

It has not seldom happened that persons have hopelessly strayed about in these vast caverns, and there slowly perished, while but a few fathoms above the labourer was driving his plough forward or the reaper singing his evening song. In several parts of the caverns an inscription on the walls points out where and under what circumstances a corpse has been found, or a few traces of black chalk give a rude portrait of the victim. Here we read the short story of a workman who, losing his way, roamed about till the last glimmer from his torch died out in his burnt fingers; there that of another whose lamp by some chance was overturned, and who, plunged in sudden darkness, was no longer able to find his way out of some remote passage.

The French geologist, Faujas de Saint-Fond, who, in the year 1798 minutely explored the Mount, relates that one day the torches that were carried before him discovered at some distance a dark object stretched out upon the floor, which on a closer inspection proved to be a corpse. It was a shrivelled mummy, completely dressed, the hat lying close to the head, the shoes separated from the feet, and a rosary in its hand. From the dress Faujas conjectured it to be the body of a workman, and perhaps more than half a century might have passed since the poor man died in the quarry which had probably given him bread for many a year. The dry air, and the total absence of insects in these subterranean vaults, explained the mummy-like preservation of the corpse.

In the year 1640 four Franciscan monks resolved, for the greater glory of God and of their tutelary saint, to construct a chapel in a deserted part of the caverns. Taking with them a thick pack of thread, they attached one end of it to a spot where the trodden path ceased, and penetrating deeper and deeper into the unknown vaults as long as their thread lasted, finally came to a larger cavity or hall, which had probably not been visited for centuries, but which in consequence of their misfortune has since become one of the show-places of the quarry. At the entrance one of them drew with a piece of coal a still existing sketch of his convent on the wall, and wrote underneath the date of the discovery which was to be so fatal to him and his companions. What must have been their dismay when, wishing to retrace their steps, they discovered that, by some accident, the thread which alone could lead them out of the labyrinth had been severed, and that they were left without guide or compass in the inextricable maze of the caverns. The prior, alarmed at their prolonged absence, and knowing that they had visited the quarries, ordered them to be sought for. But such is the vast extent of the excavations that it was only after seven days that their corpses were found, lying closely together, their faces downwards and their hands folded, as if their last moments had been spent in prayer.

The caverns of St. Peter’s Mount, generally devoted only to the pacific labours of the quarryman or to unbroken silence, have once been the scene of a bloody fight; and as the quiet waters of the Todtensee, on the heights of the Grimsel, have witnessed a sanguinary battle between the French and the Russians, so these subterranean vaults have once resounded with the din of fire-arms and the shouts of embittered enemies.

During the siege above mentioned, which brought Maestricht into the power of the French Republic, some sharpshooters of the besieging army took up their position in the quarries. The Austrians, who occupied Fort St. Pierre, on the back of the mountain, and had already made several successful sorties, formed the plan of penetrating into the caverns from the interior of the fort, in the hope of surprising the enemy who occupied their entrances. But as the torches which lighted their silent march betrayed their intentions, the Frenchmen cautiously and slowly advanced upon them, surprised them with a sudden volley of musketry, and drove back into the depths of the caverns all those who were not made prisoners or killed.

To the geologist the quarries of St. Peter’s are particularly interesting, as the calcareous tuff of which they are composed is extremely rich in valuable petrifactions. Here, among others, was found, in 1770, the famous skull of the Mososaurus Hoffmanni, a giant lizard twenty feet long, which before the discovery of the still more colossal Ichthyosauri in England and Bavaria was considered as the most remarkable fossil known, and now forms one of the chief ornaments of the Museum of the Jardin des Plantes in Paris.

There are no subterranean animals peculiar to the caverns of St. Peter’s, such as have been found in large natural caves; but foxes and martens not seldom find here a secure retreat, and many a bat hibernates in their warm recesses.

Near the small village El Massara, which, like all the hamlets on the Nile, stands in a grove of date-palms, are situated the quarries which furnished materials for the temples and pyramids of Memphis. After having first traversed a wide plain of sand, the visitor reaches the foot of the Mokattam mountain. Here the ground is everywhere covered with enormous heaps of rubbish from the quarries, which look more like an attempt to cut the whole mountain into blocks and carry it away than simple excavations for building materials. At first sight the traveller might indeed almost fancy that all the eighteen thousand towns of ancient Egypt must have been dug out of these stupendous excavations. Here he may see the mountain cut through from top to bottom, and open spaces as large as the squares of a great capital on a level with the plain, while there the rock has been hollowed out into enormous halls, their roofs reposing on titanic pilasters. In one spot the rocky wall has been cut rectangularly, after which it runs parallel to the river for a distance of about fifteen hundred feet, and then again projects at a right angle towards the plain, so that in the space between the wings there would be room enough for a small town, yet all the stone which once filled this vast cavity has been sawn from the rock and carried over the Nile. Here and there enormous masses of stone, like those which in winter roll from the high Alps into the valleys, have fallen from the overhanging rock. Many bear evident traces that the hand of man originally severed them from the mountain; but their size was such as to baffle even the perseverance and mechanical skill of the Egyptians. No power could remove them from the spot, and thus they remained to be worn away by time, which as yet, however, has hardly left a trace of its passage upon their chiselled sides.

From the mounds of rubbish that lie before the openings of the quarries there is a magnificent view of the long line of pyramids which mark, to the west, the extreme limits of the fertile land. Here, indeed, is a place for meditation, for nowhere do stones preach a more impressive sermon!

The quarries of Haggar Silsilis, in a wild mountainous country between Assuan and Edfu, are on a still grander scale. Passages as broad as streets, running on both sides between walls fifty or sixty feet high, now stretching straight forward, now curving, extend from the eastern bank of the river into the heart of the mountain, where spaces have been hollowed out large enough to embrace the Roman Colosseum! To the north numberless Cyclopean caverns have been hewn out, and enormous colonnades stretch along the foot of the mountain. The rough-hewn irregular roof rests upon immense square, or many-sided, pillars, frequently eighty or a hundred feet in circumference. Enormous blocks, already completely separated from the rock, rest on smaller ones, ready to be transported, while in other parts the labours of the quarrymen were suddenly arrested by the invasion of the foreign conqueror who put a stop to the dominion of the priests. The Bedouin, astonished at these vast works, so alien to his roving habits, exclaims at their aspect, with a wondering mien, ‘Wallah! if these unbelievers had lived until now, they would have carried away the whole mountain and levelled it with the ground!’

Syracuse, the proud city that vied with Rome itself, and the remembrance of whose magnificence and glory, both in arts and arms, will live as long as classical literature, is now reduced to a heap of rubbish, for her remains deserve not the name of a city. But though even her ruins have mostly disappeared, ‘etiam periere ruinÆ,’ yet the vast quarries which furnished the materials for her palaces and temples still bear witness to her ancient grandeur.

The LatomiÆ of the Capuchins, thus named from a convent of that order, situated on the rock above, now form a noble subterranean garden, one of the most romantic and beautiful spots imaginable. Most of it is about one hundred feet below the level of the earth, and of an incredible extent. The whole is hewn out of a rock as hard as marble, composed of a concretion of shells, gravel, and other marine bodies. The bottom of this immense quarry, from which pro bably the greatest part of Syracuse was built, is now covered with an exceedingly rich soil; and as no wind from any point of the compass can touch it, it is filled with a great variety of the finest shrubs and fruit-trees, which bear with prodigal luxuriance, and are never blasted. The oranges, citrons, pomegranates, and figs are all of a remarkable size, and, frequently growing out of the hard rock, where there is no visible soil, exhibit a very uncommon and pleasing appearance. This quarry is the same that Cicero eloquently describes as the vast and magnificent work of the kings and tyrants of ancient Syracuse, hewn out of the rock to a prodigious depth. It also served as a prison for the Athenian soldiers that were made captives during the Peloponnesian war, and even now these vast excavations might be used for a similar purpose, as their high and overhanging walls forbid the possibility of escape, and ten men would be able to guard ten thousand without danger. Yet the genius of Euripides liberated many of his countrymen from this deep pit of bondage, for happening to sing a chorus of one of his immortal tragedies, they moved the tyrant to restore them to liberty, in honour of their illustrious fellow-citizen. Never has a more grateful offering been awarded to a poet’s genius, and never has the magical power of the Muses celebrated a nobler triumph.