Rhode Island American

A remarkable instance of the preservation of human life, when in imminent danger, occurred at Geneva in this State on the 22d ultimo.

Mr. James Gerry, an Irishman, had descended a well for the purpose of removing some obstructions. The well was 61 feet deep, and some of the stones in the wall near the bottom had been loosened by the washing of quicksands. Having descended between 40 and 50 feet, as he was standing with one foot in the bucket, and the other resting upon the side of the wall, on a sudden, the stones below gave way and closed together, and the whole mass of the walls above sunk down upon him and buried him beneath the ruins: The shock, says the Geneva Gazette, produced by such a disaster can be imagined, but not described. A groan issued from beneath the stones and earth, which proved that life was not extinct, and inspired a feeble hope of extricating the unfortunate man alive! Hundreds immediately collected around the spot; in painful solicitude, all anxious to bear a part in rescuing a fellow mortal from so terrible a grave! The most prompt and active exertions were made to excavate as soon as possible, the stones and earth that had fallen in. It was half past 4 o'clock, P. M. when the catastrophe happened. In fifteen minutes a windlass and bucket were procured and put in operation. No less than eighty tons of stone were to be drawn up, before relief could be given. But few could labour at a time—and though they proceeded with the utmost activity, the removing of so great a quantity of stones, mingled with the earth that had fallen in, was a task slow and tedious. As they proceeded, occasional groans could still be heard issuing from the cold damp earth beneath. When night approached, they had penetrated but a few feet below the surface, and the prospect seemed gloomy and doubtful. A crowd of two or three hundred anxiously waited the issue of the event. Every thing was soon put into a systematic train—persons were appointed to make all necessary provision, and preserve order and silence amongst the crowd. The night was dark and unpleasant—but by the assistance of lamps, they vigorously prosecuted the work. Those in the well would at intervals call to the buried man, to ascertain if he could hear them—but no answer could as yet be heard. A general silence and solemnity prevailed, broken only by the occasional murmur of inquiry among the crowd, the hollow noise of the stones tumbled into the bucket in the well—the voice of the workmen—and now and then the groans of the distressed man beneath! It was now towards midnight, and they had gone about twenty feet below the surface;—the workmen in the well called again to Gerry—a breathless silence prevailed, and—a distinct answer was returned! At this, a murmur of joy ran through the crowd, and the countenances of all were lighted up with hope. They now toiled with renewed ardour, occasionally calling to Gerry as before, and receiving in return distinct responses. They asked him what distance he thought he was down? he rationally replied, "Between forty and fifty feet."

There now remained not a doubt but he might be extricated alive, provided the stones were not arched above him in such a manner as to fall upon him when loosened; they now proceeded with the utmost caution. Between two and three o'clock, when they had come to within 20 feet of him, they stopped about 15 minutes to take some refreshment. The poor sufferer below, who for some time had been conscious of the exertions of his sympathizing fellow-men, perceiving that the noise from the tumbling of the stones into the bucket no longer continued, now fancied they had ceased their exertions, and left him to expire in that terrible situation! In this moment of despair, he burst out into a pitiful tone of wailing, and begged them "for God's sake not to leave him!" They informed him of the cause of their stopping—and he was soon gladdened by the returning sound of the rattling of the stones in the bucket. They asked him "in what situation he was?" and he answered, that "he was wedged in all round by the stones."

When they had come within 3 or 4 feet of him, he called for some water to drink. His thirst was the natural result of his protracted agony. About day-light, they had lowered the mass down even with his head. They found him forty-eight feet below the surface, in an erect position. A stone, weighing eighty pounds, rested on his head, which was turned a little up, making a considerable gash, though not producing a fracture in the skull—a stone on each side of his head, pressing like a vice, and one or two smaller ones, covered with blood, about his face.—leaving a small aperture for his mouth, so that he could just breathe and speak. His arms were raised in the position in which he held the rope—one foot was in the bucket, and the other, fortunately, was at liberty so that he could move it—no other part of his body could he stir! So tight was he wedged in, that it was necessary to remove the stones down as low as his feet. At a quarter before nine o'clock, in the morning, having continued sixteen hours and fifteen minutes in the well, he was drawn up in a crate, and welcomed by an admiring and joyful crowd to this upper world, as one rescued from the grave—as one arisen from the dead. Shivering with cold, he cast a wistful look upon his deliverers, and was borne into the house. He was followed by the three faithful men who had toiled incessantly for thirteen hours in the well, and who received as they came up, the hearty cheers of the surrounding multitude for their indefatigable and praise-worthy exertions. Two or three medical gentlemen were in waiting to receive the unfortunate man, and it was found on examination, that providentially, not a bone was fractured or broken: His face and head were badly bruised and cut, as well as other parts of his body. The contusion on his head produced insensibility for a few hours after the accident, as he says he knew nothing for some time. He is now in a fair way to recover and will probably in a few days, by the blessing of God, be enabled to resume his usual avocations.