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Nothing was left but long wooden ladders, down the Yarrow shaft--the only
one which now gave access to the lower galleries of the Dochart pit.
Above ground, the sheds, formerly sheltering the outside works,
still marked the spot where the shaft of that pit had been sunk,
it being now abandoned, as were the other pits, of which the whole
constituted the mines of Aberfoyle.
It was a sad day, when for the last time the workmen quitted the mine,
in which they had lived for so many years. The engineer, James Starr,
had collected the hundreds of
workmen which composed the active and courageous population of the mine.
Overmen, brakemen, putters, wastemen, barrowmen, masons, smiths,
carpenters, outside and inside laborers, women, children, and old men,
all were collected in the great yard of the Dochart pit, formerly heaped
with coal from the mine.
Many of these families had existed for generations in the mine
of old Aberfoyle; they were now driven to seek the means
of subsistence elsewhere, and they waited sadly to bid farewell
to the engineer.
James Starr stood upright, at the door of the vast shed in which he had
for so many years superintended the powerful machines of the shaft.
Simon Ford, the foreman of the Dochart pit, then fifty-five years of age,
and other managers and overseers, surrounded him. James Starr took
off his hat. The miners, cap in hand, kept a profound silence.
This farewell scene was of a touching character, not wanting in grandeur.
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