The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1864-06-23
FsA CEg WHINING EN''
4 Story Of the Black Country.

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From Once Week, i
10 any one familiar with that part of the
midland counties known as The Black
Country, " the mere mention of its name will
bring before the mind the whole dreary spec
tacle, the blackness of desolation by day.
the burning waste by night; while to those
unacauainted with the scene, no description
however vivid, would convey correct idea
of its peculiar features.
In these days Of constant railway travel
ing, when distant town is often practical
ly nearer than neighboring village, many
who have never visited the black country
have obtained general idea of its charac-
teristics while passing through it; and
should their train have been a slow one, prob
ably the short journey between Birmingham
and Wolverhampton has given them all the
acquaintance they wish to have with scene
so gloomy III the daylight, so appalling i'll the
darkness. The fat, black ground, intersected
by canals, upon whose foul and muddy wa
ter, slow barges laden with coal or iron are
drawn by lean horses, and even Ill some
cases by women with scarcely q trace Of
their sex visible in dress or feature--the
short, wide chimneys pouring forth smoke
and flame, the machinery for working coal
pits and the debrjS from them and from
the furnaces, all go to make one of the dsea-
REST pictures conceivable. Perhaps the huts
or hovels-built sometimes Of mud, some
times of mud and brick, and always more
or less fallen or falling into decay--inhabited
! by the pitmen and other workmen OF the
Epace, are the saddest sight Of all. BY the
doors OF these desolate and ru1nous dwellings,
| little children are seen, looking like little
savages, even to the color Of their skin, play
ing their dreary play among the cinders
which cover the road.
These pages are not the place for discuss
ing the question, but it might well be asked
if It is not possible that a country so blasted
and disfigured, retaining no clement Of beau
ty and in the very nature Of its employ
ments tending to brutalize rather than to ell
evate its population, may not by It's ln1unce
be in some measure conducive to those crimes
of diabolcal atrocity which seem almost pc
culiar to this region and which, from time
| to time, startle even the most accustomed to
the details of crime into active indignation
But the sights to which have alluded are
not the only things that render the black
country terrible. It is liable to peculiar
danger of an appalling nature and the cir
cumstances Nnder which | first heard OF it,
being in themselves not uninteresting, |
make no apology for repeating them.
About five years ago | accepted an invi-
tation to spend Christmas with a friend liv-
! ing in South Staffordshire. He was an iron
master Of considerable position. and, finding
it necessary to live in the neighborhood OF
his business, had built house near to his
works, and taken thither his young wife,
who was a cousin Of mine, in the early part
of the year. had never even passed through
the country and had no idea Of its aspect,
and only looked forward to a pleasant week
with my friends.
Professional engagements kept me in
London till late in the afternoon Of the Oath
of December, and in the early twilight Of
that winter day began my journey. There
was bitter hard frost, the clouds gathering
blackIy seemed to promise a heavy fall OF
snow before morning, and was much an
noyed to find that the only train could take
was a slow one, stopping at every station.
However it was no use to complain; and
wrapping myself up as warmly as possible
in my rug, | composed myselffor sleep soon
after we started, and was fortunate enough
to have an undisturbed slumber Of some
length.
When awoke it was to a novel sight
On either side were the huge furnace fires OF
the black country shedding a lurid light far
kirto the darkness and the heaps of refuse
which looked grey and dead in the daylight
were now so many glowing hillocks OF red
hot embers. 1t was more like a dream than
any waking sight had ever had and more
like a vision of purgatory, or even worse
place than like dream. The train stopped,
and upon inquring the name OF the station,
found that had passed the station where
ought to have left the train. and where my
friend had arranged to meet me with a car
rage Considerably vexed. took up my car
pet bag and asked if | could havea convey
ance to take me to my fneud's house; but
the place was little more than village, and
nothing of the kind could be had. The sta
tion-master Informed me, in answer to my
impatient inquiries, that Mr.. --- lived
about three miles of, and, giving me some
directions as to the route of which being a
stranger, could make nothing, left me to
take my chance
l walked out of the station and then stood
STILL irresolutely, somewhat bewildered by
the strangeness and popularity Of all that |
saw, and dazzled by the strong effect of
light and shade, the glare from the huge
fires contrasting so sharply with the black
ness of the night. looked at my watch and
found that it was just eight o'clock.
At this moment a man PASSED, and l
asked him if he could direct me to the house
/ of Mr.. -- He turned at the sound Of my
voice, and, pointing vaguely into the dark
ness said it LAY over there.
But don't know the country at all" |
said was never here before, and | can
not find my way unless you tell me some
! thing more
''Oh If you're a stranger" he answered
somewhat roughly, you won't find it easy.
You've come to the wrong station for the
nearest"
Il know that, l said; l have made a
mistake"
''Ifthat's he replied, more good humored
~, come along with me I'm goin' a good
step o the same way, and I'll show you as
far as l can"