EDISON
HIS LIFE AND INVENTIONS

BY

FRANK LEWIS DYER
GENERAL COUNSEL FOR THE EDISON LABORATORY
AND ALLIED INTERESTS

AND

THOMAS COMMERFORD MARTIN
EX-PRESIDENT OF THE AMERICAN INSTITUTE
OF ELECTRICAL ENGINEERS



CONTENTS

          INTRODUCTION 
I.        THE AGE OF ELECTRICITY 
II.       EDISON'S PEDIGREE
III.      BOYHOOD AT PORT HURON, MICHIGAN
IV.       THE YOUNG TELEGRAPH OPERATOR 
V.        ARDUOUS YEARS IN THE CENTRAL WEST
VI.       WORK AND INVENTION IN BOSTON 
VII.      THE STOCK TICKER 
VIII.     AUTOMATIC, DUPLEX, AND QUADRUPLEX TELEGRAPHY
IX.       THE TELEPHONE, MOTOGRAPH, AND MICROPHONE 
X.        THE PHONOGRAPH 
XI.       THE INVENTION OF THE INCANDESCENT LAMP 
XII.      MEMORIES OF MENLO PARK 
XIII.     A WORLD-HUNT FOR FILAMENT MATERIAL 
XIV.      INVENTING A COMPLETE SYSTEM OF LIGHTING
XV.       INTRODUCTION OF THE EDISON ELECTRIC LIGHT
XVI.      THE FIRST EDISON CENTRAL STATION 
XVII.     OTHER EARLY STATIONS--THE METER
XVIII.    THE ELECTRIC RAILWAY 
XIX.      MAGNETIC ORE MILLING WORK
XX.       EDISON PORTLAND CEMENT 
XXI.      MOTION PICTURES
XXII.     THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE EDISON STORAGE BATTERY 
XXIII.    MISCELLANEOUS INVENTIONS 
XXIV.     EDISON'S METHOD IN INVENTING 
XXV.      THE LABORATORY AT ORANGE AND THE STAFF 
XXVI.     EDISON IN COMMERCE AND MANUFACTURE 
XXVII.    THE VALUE OF EDISON'S INVENTIONS TO THE WORLD 
XXVIII.   THE BLACK FLAG 
XXIX.     THE SOCIAL SIDE OF EDISON
          APPENDIX 
          LIST OF UNITED STATES PATENTS
          FOREIGN PATENTS
          INDEX




INTRODUCTION

PRIOR to this, no complete, authentic, and authorized
record of the work of Mr. Edison, during an active life,
has been given to the world. That life, if there is anything
in heredity, is very far from finished; and while it continues
there will be new achievement.

An insistently expressed desire on the part of the
public for a definitive biography of Edison was the
reason for the following pages. The present authors
deem themselves happy in the confidence reposed in
them, and in the constant assistance they have enjoyed
from Mr. Edison while preparing these pages,
a great many of which are altogether his own. This
co-operation in no sense relieves the authors of
responsibility as to any of the views or statements of
their own that the book contains. They have realized
the extreme reluctance of Mr. Edison to be made the
subject of any biography at all; while he has felt that,
if it must be written, it were best done by the hands
of friends and associates of long standing, whose judgment
and discretion he could trust, and whose intimate
knowledge of the facts would save him from
misrepresentation.

The authors of the book are profoundly conscious
of the fact that the extraordinary period of electrical
development embraced in it has been prolific of great
men. They have named some of them; but there
has been no idea of setting forth various achievements
or of ascribing distinctive merits. This treatment
is devoted to one man whom his fellow-citizens
have chosen to regard as in many ways representative
of the American at his finest flowering in
the field of invention during the nineteenth century.

It is designed in these pages to bring the reader face
to face with Edison; to glance at an interesting childhood
and a youthful period marked by a capacity for
doing things, and by an insatiable thirst for knowledge;
then to accompany him into the great creative
stretch of forty years, during which he has done so
much. This book shows him plunged deeply into
work for which he has always had an incredible
capacity, reveals the exercise of his unsurpassed
inventive ability, his keen reasoning powers, his
tenacious memory, his fertility of resource; follows
him through a series of innumerable experiments,
conducted methodically, reaching out like rays of
search-light into all the regions of science and nature,
and finally exhibits him emerging triumphantly from
countless difficulties bearing with him in new arts
the fruits of victorious struggle.

These volumes aim to be a biography rather than
a history of electricity, but they have had to cover so
much general ground in defining the relations and
contributions of Edison to the electrical arts, that they
serve to present a picture of the whole development
effected in the last fifty years, the most fruitful that
electricity has known. The effort has been made to
avoid technique and abstruse phrases, but some
degree of explanation has been absolutely necessary
in regard to each group of inventions. The task of
the authors has consisted largely in summarizing
fairly the methods and processes employed by Edison;
and some idea of the difficulties encountered by
them in so doing may be realized from the fact that
one brief chapter, for example,--that on ore milling--
covers nine years of most intense application and
activity on the part of the inventor. It is something
like exhibiting the geological eras of the earth in an
outline lantern slide, to reduce an elaborate series
of strenuous experiments and a vast variety of
ingenious apparatus to the space of a few hundred
words.

A great deal of this narrative is given in Mr. Edison's
own language, from oral or written statements
made in reply to questions addressed to him with
the object of securing accuracy. A further large part
is based upon the personal contributions of many
loyal associates; and it is desired here to make grateful
acknowledgment to such collaborators as Messrs.
Samuel Insull, E. H. Johnson, F. R. Upton, R. N
Dyer, S. B. Eaton, Francis Jehl, W. S. Andrews, W.
J. Jenks, W. J. Hammer, F. J. Sprague, W. S. Mallory,
an, C. L. Clarke, and others, without whose aid
the issuance of this book would indeed have been
impossible. In particular, it is desired to acknowledge
indebtedness to Mr. W. H. Meadowcroft not only for
substantial aid in the literary part of the work, but
for indefatigable effort to group, classify, and summarize
the boundless material embodied in Edison's
note-books and memorabilia of all kinds now kept
at the Orange laboratory. Acknowledgment must
also be made of the courtesy and assistance of Mrs.
Edison, and especially of the loan of many interesting
and rare photographs from her private collection.




EDISON

HIS LIFE AND INVENTIONS

CHAPTER I

THE AGE OF ELECTRICITY

THE year 1847 marked a period of great territorial
acquisition by the American people, with incalculable
additions to their actual and potential wealth.
By the rational compromise with England in the dispute
over the Oregon region, President Polk had secured
during 1846, for undisturbed settlement, three
hundred thousand square miles of forest, fertile land,
and fisheries, including the whole fair Columbia Valley.
Our active "policy of the Pacific" dated from
that hour. With swift and clinching succession came
the melodramatic Mexican War, and February, 1848,
saw another vast territory south of Oregon and west
of the Rocky Mountains added by treaty to the United
States. Thus in about eighteen months there had
been pieced into the national domain for quick development
and exploitation a region as large as the
entire Union of Thirteen States at the close of the War
of Independence. Moreover, within its boundaries
was embraced all the great American gold-field, just
on the eve of discovery, for Marshall had detected the
shining particles in the mill-race at the foot of the
Sierra Nevada nine days before Mexico signed away
her rights in California and in all the vague, remote
hinterland facing Cathayward.

Equally momentous were the times in Europe, where
the attempt to secure opportunities of expansion as
well as larger liberty for the individual took quite
different form. The old absolutist system of government
was fast breaking up, and ancient thrones were
tottering. The red lava of deep revolutionary fires
oozed up through many glowing cracks in the political
crust, and all the social strata were shaken. That the
wild outbursts of insurrection midway in the fifth
decade failed and died away was not surprising, for
the superincumbent deposits of tradition and convention
were thick. But the retrospect indicates that
many reforms and political changes were accomplished,
although the process involved the exile of not a few
ardent spirits to America, to become leading statesmen,
inventors, journalists, and financiers. In 1847,
too, Russia began her tremendous march eastward into
Central Asia, just as France was solidifying her first
gains on the littoral of northern Africa. In England
the fierce fervor of the Chartist movement, with its
violent rhetoric as to the rights of man, was sobering
down and passing pervasively into numerous practical
schemes for social and political amelioration, constituting
in their entirety a most profound change
throughout every part of the national life.

Into such times Thomas Alva Edison was born, and
his relations to them and to the events of the past
sixty years are the subject of this narrative. Aside
from the personal interest that attaches to the picturesque
career, so typically American, there is a broader
aspect in which the work of the "Franklin of the
Nineteenth Century" touches the welfare and progress
of the race. It is difficult at any time to determine
the effect of any single invention, and the investigation
becomes more difficult where inventions of the
first class have been crowded upon each other in rapid
and bewildering succession. But it will be admitted
that in Edison one deals with a central figure of the
great age that saw the invention and introduction in
practical form of the telegraph, the submarine cable,
the telephone, the electric light, the electric railway,
the electric trolley-car, the storage battery, the electric
motor, the phonograph, the wireless telegraph; and
that the influence of these on the world's affairs has
not been excelled at any time by that of any other
corresponding advances in the arts and sciences.
These pages deal with Edison's share in the great
work of the last half century in abridging distance,
communicating intelligence, lessening toil, improving
illumination, recording forever the human voice; and
on behalf of inventive genius it may be urged that its
beneficent results and gifts to mankind compare with
any to be credited to statesman, warrior, or creative
writer of the same period.

Viewed from the standpoint of inventive progress,
the first half of the nineteenth century had passed
very profitably when Edison appeared--every year
marked by some notable achievement in the arts and
sciences, with promise of its early and abundant fruition
in commerce and industry. There had been
exactly four decades of steam navigation on American
waters. Railways were growing at the rate of
nearly one thousand miles annually. Gas had become
familiar as a means of illumination in large cities.
Looms and tools and printing-presses were everywhere
being liberated from the slow toil of man-power.
The first photographs had been taken. Chloroform,
nitrous oxide gas, and ether had been placed at the
service of the physician in saving life, and the revolver,
guncotton, and nitroglycerine added to the agencies
for slaughter. New metals, chemicals, and elements
had become available in large numbers, gases had
been liquefied and solidified, and the range of useful
heat and cold indefinitely extended. The safety-lamp
had been given to the miner, the caisson to the bridge-
builder, the anti-friction metal to the mechanic for
bearings. It was already known how to vulcanize
rubber, and how to galvanize iron. The application of
machinery in the harvest-field had begun with the
embryonic reaper, while both the bicycle and the
automobile were heralded in primitive prototypes. The
gigantic expansion of the iron and steel industry was
foreshadowed in the change from wood to coal in the
smelting furnaces. The sewing-machine had brought
with it, like the friction match, one of the most profound
influences in modifying domestic life, and making
it different from that of all preceding time.

Even in 1847 few of these things had lost their
novelty, most of them were in the earlier stages of
development. But it is when we turn to electricity
that the rich virgin condition of an illimitable new
kingdom of discovery is seen. Perhaps the word
"utilization" or "application" is better than discovery,
for then, as now, an endless wealth of phenomena
noted by experimenters from Gilbert to
Franklin and Faraday awaited the invention that
could alone render them useful to mankind. The
eighteenth century, keenly curious and ceaselessly active
in this fascinating field of investigation, had not,
after all, left much of a legacy in either principles or
appliances. The lodestone and the compass; the
frictional machine; the Leyden jar; the nature of conductors
and insulators; the identity of electricity and
the thunder-storm flash; the use of lightning-rods;
the physiological effects of an electrical shock--these
constituted the bulk of the bequest to which philosophers
were the only heirs. Pregnant with possibilities
were many of the observations that had been
recorded. But these few appliances made up the
meagre kit of tools with which the nineteenth century
entered upon its task of acquiring the arts and conveniences
now such an intimate part of "human nature's
daily food" that the average American to-day
pays more for his electrical service than he does for
bread.

With the first year of the new century came Volta's
invention of the chemical battery as a means of producing
electricity. A well-known Italian picture represents
Volta exhibiting his apparatus before the
young conqueror Napoleon, then ravishing from the
Peninsula its treasure of ancient art and founding an
ephemeral empire. At such a moment this gift of de-
spoiled Italy to the world was a noble revenge, setting
in motion incalculable beneficent forces and agencies.
For the first time man had command of a steady supply
of electricity without toil or effort. The useful
results obtainable previously from the current of a
frictional machine were not much greater than those
to be derived from the flight of a rocket. While the
frictional appliance is still employed in medicine, it
ranks with the flint axe and the tinder-box in industrial
obsolescence. No art or trade could be founded
on it; no diminution of daily work or increase of daily
comfort could be secured with it. But the little battery
with its metal plates in a weak solution proved
a perennial reservoir of electrical energy, safe and
controllable, from which supplies could be drawn at will.
That which was wild had become domesticated; regular
crops took the place of haphazard gleanings from
brake or prairie; the possibility of electrical starvation
was forever left behind.

Immediately new processes of inestimable value
revealed themselves; new methods were suggested.
Almost all the electrical arts now employed made
their beginnings in the next twenty-five years, and
while the more extensive of them depend to-day on
the dynamo for electrical energy, some of the most
important still remain in loyal allegiance to the older
source. The battery itself soon underwent modifications,
and new types were evolved--the storage,
the double-fluid, and the dry. Various analogies
next pointed to the use of heat, and the thermoelectric
cell emerged, embodying the application of
flame to the junction of two different metals. Davy,
of the safety-lamp, threw a volume of current across
the gap between two sticks of charcoal, and the voltaic
arc, forerunner of electric lighting, shed its bright
beams upon a dazzled world. The decomposition of
water by electrolytic action was recognized and made
the basis of communicating at a distance even
before the days of the electromagnet. The ties
that bind electricity and magnetism in twinship of
relation and interaction were detected, and Faraday's
work in induction gave the world at once the
dynamo and the motor. "Hitch your wagon to a
star," said Emerson. To all the coal-fields and all
the waterfalls Faraday had directly hitched the wheels
of industry. Not only was it now possible to convert
mechanical energy into electricity cheaply and in
illimitable quantities, but electricity at once showed
its ubiquitous availability as a motive power. Boats
were propelled by it, cars were hauled, and even papers
printed. Electroplating became an art, and telegraphy
sprang into active being on both sides of the
Atlantic.

At the time Edison was born, in 1847, telegraphy,
upon which he was to leave so indelible an imprint,
had barely struggled into acceptance by the public.
In England, Wheatstone and Cooke had introduced a
ponderous magnetic needle telegraph. In America, in
1840, Morse had taken out his first patent on an electromagnetic
telegraph, the principle of which is dominating
in the art to this day. Four years later the
memorable message "What hath God wrought!" was
sent by young Miss Ellsworth over his circuits, and
incredulous Washington was advised by wire of the
action of the Democratic Convention in Baltimore in
nominating Polk. By 1847 circuits had been strung
between Washington and New York, under private
enterprise, the Government having declined to buy
the Morse system for $100,000. Everything was crude
and primitive. The poles were two hundred feet apart
and could barely hold up a wash-line. The slim, bare,
copper wire snapped on the least provocation, and the
circuit was "down" for thirty-six days in the first six
months. The little glass-knob insulators made seductive
targets for ignorant sportsmen. Attempts to insulate
the line wire were limited to coating it with tar
or smearing it with wax for the benefit of all the bees
in the neighborhood. The farthest western reach of
the telegraph lines in 1847 was Pittsburg, with three-
ply iron wire mounted on square glass insulators with
a little wooden pentroof for protection. In that office,
where Andrew Carnegie was a messenger boy, the
magnets in use to receive the signals sent with the aid
of powerful nitric-acid batteries weighed as much as
seventy-five pounds apiece. But the business was
fortunately small at the outset, until the new device,
patronized chiefly by lottery-men, had proved its
utility. Then came the great outburst of activity.
Within a score of years telegraph wires covered the
whole occupied country with a network, and the first
great electrical industry was a pronounced success,
yielding to its pioneers the first great harvest of
electrical fortunes. It had been a sharp struggle for bare
existence, during which such a man as the founder of
Cornell University had been glad to get breakfast in
New York with a quarter-dollar picked up on Broadway.



CHAPTER II

EDISON'S PEDIGREE

THOMAS ALVA EDISON was born at Milan
Ohio, February 11, 1847. The State that rivals
Virginia as a "Mother of Presidents" has evidently
other titles to distinction of the same nature. For
picturesque detail it would not be easy to find any
story excelling that of the Edison family before it
reached the Western Reserve. The story epitomizes
American idealism, restlessness, freedom of individual
opinion, and ready adjustment to the surrounding
conditions of pioneer life. The ancestral Edisons
who came over from Holland, as nearly as can be
determined, in 1730, were descendants of extensive
millers on the Zuyder Zee, and took up patents
of land along the Passaic River, New Jersey,
close to the home that Mr. Edison established in
the Orange Mountains a hundred and sixty years
later. They landed at Elizabethport, New Jersey,
and first settled near Caldwell in that State, where
some graves of the family may still be found. President
Cleveland was born in that quiet hamlet. It is
a curious fact that in the Edison family the
pronunciation of the name has always been with the
long "e" sound, as it would naturally be in the
Dutch language. The family prospered and must
have enjoyed public confidence, for we find the name
of Thomas Edison, as a bank official on Manhattan
Island, signed to Continental currency in 1778.
According to the family records this Edison, great-
grandfather of Thomas Alva, reached the extreme
old age of 104 years. But all was not well, and, as
has happened so often before, the politics of father
and son were violently different. The Loyalist movement
that took to Nova Scotia so many Americans
after the War of Independence carried with it John,
the son of this stalwart Continental. Thus it came
about that Samuel Edison, son of John, was born at
Digby, Nova Scotia, in 1804. Seven years later John
Edison who, as a Loyalist or United Empire emigrant,
had become entitled under the laws of Canada to a
grant of six hundred acres of land, moved westward
to take possession of this property. He made his
way through the State of New York in wagons drawn
by oxen to the remote and primitive township of
Bayfield, in Upper Canada, on Lake Huron. Although
the journey occurred in balmy June, it was necessarily
attended with difficulty and privation; but the new
home was situated in good farming country, and once
again this interesting nomadic family settled down.

John Edison moved from Bayfield to Vienna, Ontario,
on the northern bank of Lake Erie. Mr. Edison
supplies an interesting reminiscence of the old man
and his environment in those early Canadian days.
"When I was five years old I was taken by my father
and mother on a visit to Vienna. We were driven
by carriage from Milan, Ohio, to a railroad, then to a
port on Lake Erie, thence by a canal-boat in a tow
of several to Port Burwell, in Canada, across the lake,
and from there we drove to Vienna, a short distance
away. I remember my grandfather perfectly as he
appeared, at 102 years of age, when he died. In the
middle of the day he sat under a large tree in front
of the house facing a well-travelled road. His head
was covered completely with a large quantity of very
white hair, and he chewed tobacco incessantly, nodding
to friends as they passed by. He used a very
large cane, and walked from the chair to the house,
resenting any assistance. I viewed him from a distance,
and could never get very close to him. I remember
some large pipes, and especially a molasses
jug, a trunk, and several other things that came from
Holland."

John Edison was long-lived, like his father, and
reached the ripe old age of 102, leaving his son
Samuel charged with the care of the family destinies,
but with no great burden of wealth. Little is known
of the early manhood of this father of T. A. Edison
until we find him keeping a hotel at Vienna, marrying
a school-teacher there (Miss Nancy Elliott, in 1828),
and taking a lively share in the troublous politics of
the time. He was six feet in height, of great bodily
vigor, and of such personal dominance of character
that he became a captain of the insurgent forces
rallying under the banners of Papineau and Mackenzie.
The opening years of Queen Victoria's reign
witnessed a belated effort in Canada to emphasize
the principle that there should not be taxation without
representation; and this descendant of those
who had left the United States from disapproval of
such a doctrine, flung himself headlong into its
support.

It has been said of Earl Durham, who pacified
Canada at this time and established the present system
of government, that he made a country and marred
a career. But the immediate measures of repression
enforced before a liberal policy was adopted were
sharp and severe, and Samuel Edison also found his
own career marred on Canadian soil as one result of
the Durham administration. Exile to Bermuda with
other insurgents was not so attractive as the perils of
a flight to the United States. A very hurried
departure was effected in secret from the scene of
trouble, and there are romantic traditions of his
thrilling journey of one hundred and eighty-two
miles toward safety, made almost entirely without
food or sleep, through a wild country infested with
Indians of unfriendly disposition. Thus was the
Edison family repatriated by a picturesque political
episode, and the great inventor given a birthplace on
American soil, just as was Benjamin Franklin when
his father came from England to Boston. Samuel
Edison left behind him, however, in Canada, several
brothers, all of whom lived to the age of ninety or
more, and from whom there are descendants in the
region.

After some desultory wanderings for a year or two
along the shores of Lake Erie, among the prosperous
towns then springing up, the family, with its Canadian
home forfeited, and in quest of another resting-place,
came to Milan, Ohio, in 1842. That pretty little
village offered at the moment many attractions as a
possible Chicago. The railroad system of Ohio was
still in the future, but the Western Reserve had
already become a vast wheat-field, and huge quantities
of grain from the central and northern counties
sought shipment to Eastern ports. The Huron
River, emptying into Lake Erie, was navigable within
a few miles of the village, and provided an admirable
outlet. Large granaries were established, and proved
so successful that local capital was tempted into the
project of making a tow-path canal from Lockwood
Landing all the way to Milan itself. The quaint old
Moravian mission and quondam Indian settlement of
one hundred inhabitants found itself of a sudden
one of the great grain ports of the world, and bidding
fair to rival Russian Odessa. A number of grain
warehouses, or primitive elevators, were built along
the bank of the canal, and the produce of the region
poured in immediately, arriving in wagons drawn by
four or six horses with loads of a hundred bushels.
No fewer than six hundred wagons came clattering in,
and as many as twenty sail vessels were loaded with
thirty-five thousand bushels of grain, during a single
day. The canal was capable of being navigated by
craft of from two hundred to two hundred and fifty
tons burden, and the demand for such vessels soon
led to the development of a brisk ship-building industry,
for which the abundant forests of the region
supplied the necessary lumber. An evidence of the
activity in this direction is furnished by the fact
that six revenue cutters were launched at this port
in these brisk days of its prime.

Samuel Edison, versatile, buoyant of temper, and
ever optimistic, would thus appear to have pitched
his tent with shrewd judgment. There was plenty
of occupation ready to his hand, and more than one
enterprise received his attention; but he devoted
his energies chiefly to the making of shingles, for
which there was a large demand locally and along
the lake. Canadian lumber was used principally in
this industry. The wood was imported in "bolts"
or pieces three feet long. A bolt made two shingles;
it was sawn asunder by hand, then split and shaved.
None but first-class timber was used, and such shingles
outlasted far those made by machinery with their
cross-grain cut. A house in Milan, on which some
of those shingles were put in 1844, was still in excellent
condition forty-two years later. Samuel Edison
did well at this occupation, and employed several
men, but there were other outlets from time to time
for his business activity and speculative disposition.

Edison's mother was an attractive and highly
educated woman, whose influence upon his disposition
and intellect has been profound and lasting.
She was born in Chenango County, New York, in 1810,
and was the daughter of the Rev. John Elliott, a
Baptist minister and descendant of an old Revolutionary
soldier, Capt. Ebenezer Elliott, of Scotch
descent. The old captain was a fine and picturesque
type. He fought all through the long War of Independence
--seven years--and then appears to have
settled down at Stonington, Connecticut. There, at
any rate, he found his wife, "grandmother Elliott,"
who was Mercy Peckham, daughter of a Scotch
Quaker. Then came the residence in New York
State, with final removal to Vienna, for the old
soldier, while drawing his pension at Buffalo, lived
in the little Canadian town, and there died, over
100 years old. The family was evidently one of considerable
culture and deep religious feeling, for two
of Mrs. Edison's uncles and two brothers were also
in the same Baptist ministry. As a young woman
she became a teacher in the public high school at
Vienna, and thus met her husband, who was residing
there. The family never consisted of more than three
children, two boys and a girl. A trace of the Canadian
environment is seen in the fact that Edison's
elder brother was named William Pitt, after the
great English statesman. Both his brother and the
sister exhibited considerable ability. William Pitt
Edison as a youth was so clever with his pencil that
it was proposed to send him to Paris as an art student.
In later life he was manager of the local
street railway lines at Port Huron, Michigan, in
which he was heavily interested. He also owned a
good farm near that town, and during the ill-health
at the close of his life, when compelled to spend much
of the time indoors, he devoted himself almost entirely
to sketching. It has been noted by intimate
observers of Thomas A. Edison that in discussing
any project or new idea his first impulse is to take
up any piece of paper available and make drawings
of it. His voluminous note-books are a mass of
sketches. Mrs-Tannie Edison Bailey, the sister, had,
on the other hand, a great deal of literary ability,
and spent much of her time in writing.

The great inventor, whose iron endurance and
stern will have enabled him to wear down all his
associates by work sustained through arduous days
and sleepless nights, was not at all strong as a child,
and was of fragile appearance. He had an abnormally
large but well-shaped head, and it is said that
the local doctors feared he might have brain trouble.
In fact, on account of his assumed delicacy, he was
not allowed to go to school for some years, and even
when he did attend for a short time the results were
not encouraging--his mother being hotly indignant
upon hearing that the teacher had spoken of him to
an inspector as "addled." The youth was, indeed,
fortunate far beyond the ordinary in having a
mother at once loving, well-informed, and ambitious,
capable herself, from her experience as a teacher, of
undertaking and giving him an education better than
could be secured in the local schools of the day.
Certain it is that under this simple regime studious
habits were formed and a taste for literature developed
that have lasted to this day. If ever there was a
man who tore the heart out of books it is Edison,
and what has once been read by him is never forgotten
if useful or worthy of submission to the test
of experiment.

But even thus early the stronger love of mechanical
processes and of probing natural forces manifested
itself. Edison has said that he never saw a statement
in any book as to such things that he did
not involuntarily challenge, and wish to demonstrate
as either right or wrong. As a mere child the busy
scenes of the canal and the grain warehouses were of
consuming interest, but the work in the ship-building
yards had an irresistible fascination. His questions
were so ceaseless and innumerable that the penetrating
curiosity of an unusually strong mind was regarded
as deficiency in powers of comprehension, and
the father himself, a man of no mean ingenuity and
ability, reports that the child, although capable of
reducing him to exhaustion by endless inquiries, was
often spoken of as rather wanting in ordinary acumen.
This apparent dulness is, however, a quite common
incident to youthful genius.

The constructive tendencies of this child of whom
his father said once that he had never had any boyhood
days in the ordinary sense, were early noted in
his fondness for building little plank roads out of the
debris of the yards and mills. His extraordinarily
retentive memory was shown in his easy acquisition
of all the songs of the lumber gangs and canal men
before he was five years old. One incident tells how
he was found one day in the village square copying
laboriously the signs of the stores. A highly characteristic
event at the age of six is described by his
sister. He had noted a goose sitting on her eggs
and the result. One day soon after, he was missing.
By-and-by, after an anxious search, his father found
him sitting in a nest he had made in the barn, filled
with goose-eggs and hens' eggs he had collected, trying
to hatch them out.

One of Mr. Edison's most vivid recollections goes
back to 1850, when as a child three of four years old
he saw camped in front of his home six covered
wagons, "prairie schooners," and witnessed their
departure for California. The great excitement over
the gold discoveries was thus felt in Milan, and these
wagons, laden with all the worldly possessions of
their owners, were watched out of sight on their long
journey by this fascinated urchin, whose own discoveries
in later years were to tempt many other
argonauts into the auriferous realms of electricity.

Another vivid memory of this period concerns his
first realization of the grim mystery of death. He
went off one day with the son of the wealthiest man
in the town to bathe in the creek. Soon after they
entered the water the other boy disappeared. Young
Edison waited around the spot for half an hour or
more, and then, as it was growing dark, went home
puzzled and lonely, but silent as to the occurrence.
About two hours afterward, when the missing boy
was being searched for, a man came to the Edison
home to make anxious inquiry of the companion with
whom he had last been seen. Edison told all the
circumstances with a painful sense of being in some
way implicated. The creek was at once dragged, and
then the body was recovered.

Edison had himself more than one narrow escape.
Of course he fell in the canal and was nearly drowned;
few boys in Milan worth their salt omitted that
performance. On another occasion he encountered a
more novel peril by falling into the pile of wheat in
a grain elevator and being almost smothered. Holding
the end of a skate-strap for another lad to shorten
with an axe, he lost the top of a finger. Fire also
had its perils. He built a fire in a barn, but the
flames spread so rapidly that, although he escaped
himself, the barn was wholly destroyed, and he was
publicly whipped in the village square as a warning
to other youths. Equally well remembered is a dangerous
encounter with a ram that attacked him while
he was busily engaged digging out a bumblebee's
nest near an orchard fence. The animal knocked
him against the fence, and was about to butt him
again when he managed to drop over on the safe side
and escape. He was badly hurt and bruised, and no
small quantity of arnica was needed for his wounds.

Meantime little Milan had reached the zenith of
its prosperity, and all of a sudden had been deprived
of its flourishing grain trade by the new Columbus,
Sandusky & Hocking Railroad; in fact, the short
canal was one of the last efforts of its kind in this
country to compete with the new means of transportation.
The bell of the locomotive was everywhere
ringing the death-knell of effective water haulage,
with such dire results that, in 1880, of the 4468
miles of American freight canal, that had cost $214,000,000,
no fewer than 1893 miles had been abandoned,
and of the remaining 2575 miles quite a large
proportion was not paying expenses. The short
Milan canal suffered with the rest, and to-day lies
well-nigh obliterated, hidden in part by vegetable
gardens, a mere grass-grown depression at the foot
of the winding, shallow valley. Other railroads also
prevented any further competition by the canal, for
a branch of the Wheeling & Lake Erie now passes
through the village, while the Lake Shore & Michigan
Southern runs a few miles to the south.

The owners of the canal soon had occasion to
regret that they had disdained the overtures of
enterprising railroad promoters desirous of reaching
the village, and the consequences of commercial isolation
rapidly made themselves felt. It soon became
evident to Samuel Edison and his wife that the cozy
brick home on the bluff must be given up and the
struggle with fortune resumed elsewhere. They were
well-to-do, however, and removing, in 1854, to Port
Huron, Michigan, occupied a large colonial house
standing in the middle of an old Government fort
reservation of ten acres overlooking the wide expanse
of the St. Clair River just after it leaves Lake Huron.
It was in many ways an ideal homestead, toward
which the family has always felt the strongest attachment,
but the association with Milan has never
wholly ceased. The old house in which Edison was
born is still occupied (in 1910) by Mr. S. O. Edison,
a half-brother of Edison's father, and a man of marked
inventive ability. He was once prominent in the
iron-furnace industry of Ohio, and was for a time
associated in the iron trade with the father of the
late President McKinley. Among his inventions may
be mentioned a machine for making fuel from wheat
straw, and a smoke-consuming device.

This birthplace of Edison remains the plain, substantial
little brick house it was originally: one-
storied, with rooms finished on the attic floor. Being
built on the hillside, its basement opens into the rear
yard. It was at first heated by means of open coal
grates, which may not have been altogether adequate
in severe winters, owing to the altitude and the north-
eastern exposure, but a large furnace is one of the
more modern changes. Milan itself is not materially
unlike the smaller Ohio towns of its own time or
those of later creation, but the venerable appearance
of the big elm-trees that fringe the trim lawns tells
of its age. It is, indeed, an extremely neat, snug little
place, with well-kept homes, mostly of frame construction,
and flagged streets crossing each other at
right angles. There are no poor--at least, everybody
is apparently well-to-do. While a leisurely atmosphere
pervades the town, few idlers are seen. Some
of the residents are engaged in local business; some
are occupied in farming and grape culture; others are
employed in the iron-works near-by, at Norwalk.
The stores and places of public resort are gathered
about the square, where there is plenty of room for
hitching when the Saturday trading is done at that
point, at which periods the fitful bustle recalls the
old wheat days when young Edison ran with curiosity
among the six and eight horse teams that had brought
in grain. This square is still covered with fine
primeval forest trees, and has at its centre a handsome
soldiers' monument of the Civil War, to which
four paved walks converge. It is an altogether pleasant
and unpretentious town, which cherishes with no
small amount of pride its association with the name
of Thomas Alva Edison.

In view of Edison's Dutch descent, it is rather
singular to find him with the name of Alva, for the
Spanish Duke of Alva was notoriously the worst
tyrant ever known to the Low Countries, and his
evil deeds occupy many stirring pages in Motley's
famous history. As a matter of fact, Edison was
named after Capt. Alva Bradley, an old friend of his
father, and a celebrated ship-owner on the Lakes.
Captain Bradley died a few years ago in wealth, while
his old associate, with equal ability for making money,
was never able long to keep it (differing again from
the Revolutionary New York banker from whom his
son's other name, "Thomas," was taken).



CHAPTER III

BOYHOOD AT PORT HURON, MICHIGAN

THE new home found by the Edison family at
Port Huron, where Alva spent his brief boyhood
before he became a telegraph operator and roamed
the whole middle West of that period, was unfortunately
destroyed by fire just after the close of the
Civil War. A smaller but perhaps more comfortable
home was then built by Edison's father on some
property he had bought at the near-by village of
Gratiot, and there his mother spent the remainder
of her life in confirmed invalidism, dying in 1871.
Hence the pictures and postal cards sold largely to
souvenir-hunters as the Port Huron home do not
actually show that in or around which the events
now referred to took place.

It has been a romance of popular biographers, based
upon the fact that Edison began his career as a
newsboy, to assume that these earlier years were
spent in poverty and privation, as indeed they usually
are by the "newsies" who swarm and shout their
papers in our large cities. While it seems a pity to
destroy this erroneous idea, suggestive of a heroic
climb from the depths to the heights, nothing could
be further from the truth. Socially the Edison family
stood high in Port Huron at a time when there
was relatively more wealth and general activity than
to-day. The town in its pristine prime was a great
lumber centre, and hummed with the industry of
numerous sawmills. An incredible quantity of lumber
was made there yearly until the forests near-by
vanished and the industry with them. The wealth
of the community, invested largely in this business
and in allied transportation companies, was accumulated
rapidly and as freely spent during those days
of prosperity in St. Clair County, bringing with it a
high standard of domestic comfort. In all this the
Edisons shared on equal terms.

Thus, contrary to the stories that have been so
widely published, the Edisons, while not rich by any
means, were in comfortable circumstances, with a
well-stocked farm and large orchard to draw upon
also for sustenance. Samuel Edison, on moving to
Port Huron, became a dealer in grain and feed, and
gave attention to that business for many years. But
he was also active in the lumber industry in the
Saginaw district and several other things. It was
difficult for a man of such mercurial, restless
temperament to stay constant to any one occupation;
in fact, had he been less visionary he would have
been more prosperous, but might not have had a son
so gifted with insight and imagination. One instance
of the optimistic vagaries which led him incessantly
to spend time and money on projects that would not
have appealed to a man less sanguine was the
construction on his property of a wooden observation
tower over a hundred feet high, the top of which was
reached toilsomely by winding stairs, after the pay-

ment of twenty-five cents. It is true that the tower
commanded a pretty view by land and water, but
Colonel Sellers himself might have projected this
enterprise as a possible source of steady income. At
first few visitors panted up the long flights of steps
to the breezy platform. During the first two months
Edison's father took in three dollars, and felt extremely
blue over the prospect, and to young Edison and his
relatives were left the lonely pleasures of the lookout
and the enjoyment of the telescope with which it
was equipped. But one fine day there came an excursion
from an inland town to see the lake. They
picnicked in the grove, and six hundred of them went
up the tower. After that the railroad company began
to advertise these excursions, and the receipts
each year paid for the observatory.

It might be thought that, immersed in business
and preoccupied with schemes of this character, Mr.
Edison was to blame for the neglect of his son's
education. But that was not the case. The conditions
were peculiar. It was at the Port Huron public
school that Edison received all the regular scholastic
instruction he ever enjoyed--just three months.
He might have spent the full term there, but, as
already noted, his teacher had found him "addled."
He was always, according to his own recollection,
at the foot of the class, and had come almost to regard
himself as a dunce, while his father entertained
vague anxieties as to his stupidity. The truth of the
matter seems to be that Mrs. Edison, a teacher of uncommon
ability and force, held no very high opinion
of the average public-school methods and results, and
was both eager to undertake the instruction of her
son and ambitious for the future of a boy whom she
knew from pedagogic experience to be receptive and
thoughtful to a very unusual degree. With her he
found study easy and pleasant. The quality of culture
in that simple but refined home, as well as the
intellectual character of this youth without schooling,
may be inferred from the fact that before he
had reached the age of twelve he had read, with his
mother's help, Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman
Empire, Hume's History of England, Sears' History of
the World, Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, and the
Dictionary of Sciences; and had even attempted to
struggle through Newton's Principia, whose mathematics
were decidedly beyond both teacher and
student. Besides, Edison, like Faraday, was never
a mathematician, and has had little personal use for
arithmetic beyond that which is called "mental."
He said once to a friend: "I can always hire some
mathematicians, but they can't hire me." His father,
by-the-way, always encouraged these literary tastes,
and paid him a small sum for each new book mastered.
It will be noted that fiction makes no showing
in the list; but it was not altogether excluded
from the home library, and Edison has all his life
enjoyed it, particularly the works of such writers as
Victor Hugo, after whom, because of his enthusiastic
admiration--possibly also because of his imagination--he
was nicknamed by his fellow-operators,
"Victor Hugo Edison."

Electricity at that moment could have no allure
for a youthful mind. Crude telegraphy represented
what was known of it practically, and about that the
books read by young Edison were not redundantly
informational. Even had that not been so, the
inclinations of the boy barely ten years old were
toward chemistry, and fifty years later there is seen
no change of predilection. It sounds like heresy to
say that Edison became an electrician by chance,
but it is the sober fact that to this pre-eminent and
brilliant leader in electrical achievement escape into
the chemical domain still has the aspect of a delightful
truant holiday. One of the earliest stories about
his boyhood relates to the incident when he induced
a lad employed in the family to swallow a large
quantity of Seidlitz powders in the belief that the
gases generated would enable him to fly. The agonies
of the victim attracted attention, and Edison's
mother marked her displeasure by an application of
the switch kept behind the old Seth Thomas "grandfather
clock." The disastrous result of this experiment
did not discourage Edison at all, as he attributed
failure to the lad rather than to the motive
power. In the cellar of the Edison homestead young
Alva soon accumulated a chemical outfit, constituting
the first in a long series of laboratories. The word
"laboratory" had always been associated with
alchemists in the past, but as with "filament" this
untutored stripling applied an iconoclastic practicability
to it long before he realized the significance of
the new departure. Goethe, in his legend of Faust,
shows the traditional or conventional philosopher in
his laboratory, an aged, tottering, gray-bearded
investigator, who only becomes youthful upon dia-
bolical intervention, and would stay senile without
it. In the Edison laboratory no such weird transformation
has been necessary, for the philosopher had
youth, fiery energy, and a grimly practical determination
that would submit to no denial of the goal
of something of real benefit to mankind. Edison and
Faust are indeed the extremes of philosophic thought
and accomplishment.

The home at Port Huron thus saw the first Edison
laboratory. The boy began experimenting when he
was about ten or eleven years of age. He got a copy
of Parker's School Philosophy, an elementary book on
physics, and about every experiment in it he tried.
Young Alva, or "Al," as he was called, thus early
displayed his great passion for chemistry, and in the
cellar of the house he collected no fewer than two
hundred bottles, gleaned in baskets from all parts of
the town. These were arranged carefully on shelves
and all labelled "Poison," so that no one else would
handle or disturb them. They contained the chemicals
with which he was constantly experimenting.
To others this diversion was both mysterious and
meaningless, but he had soon become familiar with
all the chemicals obtainable at the local drug stores,
and had tested to his satisfaction many of the statements
encountered in his scientific reading. Edison
has said that sometimes he has wondered how it was
he did not become an analytical chemist instead of
concentrating on electricity, for which he had at first
no great inclination.

Deprived of the use of a large part of her cellar,
tiring of the "mess" always to be found there, and
somewhat fearful of results, his mother once told the
boy to clear everything out and restore order. The
thought of losing all his possessions was the cause
of so much ardent distress that his mother relented,
but insisted that he must get a lock and key, and
keep the embryonic laboratory closed up all the time
except when he was there. This was done. From
such work came an early familiarity with the nature
of electrical batteries and the production of current
from them. Apparently the greater part of his spare
time was spent in the cellar, for he did not share to
any extent in the sports of the boys of the
neighborhood, his chum and chief companion, Michael
Oates, being a lad of Dutch origin, many years older,
who did chores around the house, and who could be
recruited as a general utility Friday for the experiments
of this young explorer--such as that with the
Seidlitz powders.

Such pursuits as these consumed the scant pocket-
money of the boy very rapidly. He was not in regular
attendance at school, and had read all the books
within reach. It was thus he turned newsboy, overcoming
the reluctance of his parents, particularly
that of his mother, by pointing out that he could by
this means earn all he wanted for his experiments
and get fresh reading in the shape of papers and
magazines free of charge. Besides, his leisure hours
in Detroit he would be able to spend at the public
library. He applied (in 1859) for the privilege of
selling newspapers on the trains of the Grand Trunk
Railroad, between Port Huron and Detroit, and obtained
the concession after a short delay, during
which he made an essay in his task of selling newspapers.

Edison had, as a fact, already had some commercial
experience from the age of eleven. The ten acres of
the reservation offered an excellent opportunity for
truck-farming, and the versatile head of the family
could not avoid trying his luck in this branch of
work. A large "market garden" was laid out, in
which Edison worked pretty steadily with the help of
the Dutch boy, Michael Oates--he of the flying
experiment. These boys had a horse and small wagon
intrusted to them, and every morning in the season
they would load up with onions, lettuce, peas, etc.,
and go through the town.

As much as $600 was turned over to Mrs. Edison
in one year from this source. The boy was indefatigable
but not altogether charmed with agriculture.
"After a while I tired of this work, as hoeing
corn in a hot sun is unattractive, and I did not
wonder that it had built up cities. Soon the Grand
Trunk Railroad was extended from Toronto to Port
Huron, at the foot of Lake Huron, and thence to
Detroit, at about the same time the War of the
Rebellion broke out. By a great amount of persistence
I got permission from my mother to go on the
local train as a newsboy. The local train from Port
Huron to Detroit, a distance of sixty-three miles,
left at 7 A.M. and arrived again at 9.30 P.M. After
being on the train for several months, I started two
stores in Port Huron--one for periodicals, and the
other for vegetables, butter, and berries in the season.
These were attended by two boys who shared in the
profits. The periodical store I soon closed, as the
boy in charge could not be trusted. The vegetable
store I kept up for nearly a year. After the railroad
had been opened a short time, they put on an express
which left Detroit in the morning and returned in
the evening. I received permission to put a newsboy
on this train. Connected with this train was
a car, one part for baggage and the other part for
U. S. mail, but for a long time it was not used. Every
morning I had two large baskets of vegetables from
the Detroit market loaded in the mail-car and sent
to Port Huron, where the boy would take them to
the store. They were much better than those grown
locally, and sold readily. I never was asked to pay
freight, and to this day cannot explain why, except
that I was so small and industrious, and the nerve to
appropriate a U. S. mail-car to do a free freight business
was so monumental. However, I kept this up
for a long time, and in addition bought butter from
the farmers along the line, and an immense amount
of blackberries in the season. I bought wholesale
and at a low price, and permitted the wives of the
engineers and trainmen to have the benefit of the
discount. After a while there was a daily immigrant
train put on. This train generally had from seven
to ten coaches filled always with Norwegians, all
bound for Iowa and Minnesota. On these trains I
employed a boy who sold bread, tobacco, and stick
candy. As the war progressed the daily newspaper
sales became very profitable, and I gave up the vegetable
store."

The hours of this occupation were long, but the
work was not particularly heavy, and Edison soon
found opportunity for his favorite avocation--chemical
experimentation. His train left Port Huron at
7 A.M., and made its southward trip to Detroit in
about three hours. This gave a stay in that city
from 10 A.M. until the late afternoon, when the train
left, arriving at Port Huron about 9.30 P.M. The
train was made up of three coaches--baggage, smoking,
and ordinary passenger or "ladies." The baggage-car
was divided into three compartments--one
for trunks and packages, one for the mail, and one for
smoking. In those days no use was made of the
smoking-compartment, as there was no ventilation,
and it was turned over to young Edison, who not only
kept papers there and his stock of goods as a "candy
butcher," but soon had it equipped with an extraordinary
variety of apparatus. There was plenty of
leisure on the two daily runs, even for an industrious
boy, and thus he found time to transfer his laboratory
from the cellar and re-establish it on the train.

His earnings were also excellent--so good, in fact,
that eight or ten dollars a day were often taken in,
and one dollar went every day to his mother. Thus
supporting himself, he felt entitled to spend any other
profit left over on chemicals and apparatus. And
spent it was, for with access to Detroit and its large
stores, where he bought his supplies, and to the public
library, where he could quench his thirst for technical
information, Edison gave up all his spare time
and money to chemistry. Surely the country could
have presented at that moment no more striking example
of the passionate pursuit of knowledge under
difficulties than this newsboy, barely fourteen years
of age, with his jars and test-tubes installed on a
railway baggage-car.

Nor did this amazing equipment stop at batteries
and bottles. The same little space a few feet square
was soon converted by this precocious youth into a
newspaper office. The outbreak of the Civil War
gave a great stimulus to the demand for all newspapers,
noticing which he became ambitious to publish
a local journal of his own, devoted to the news
of that section of the Grand Trunk road. A small
printing-press that had been used for hotel bills of
fare was picked up in Detroit, and type was also
bought, some of it being placed on the train so that
composition could go on in spells of leisure. To one
so mechanical in his tastes as Edison, it was quite
easy to learn the rudiments of the printing art, and
thus the Weekly Herald came into existence, of which
he was compositor, pressman, editor, publisher, and
newsdealer. Only one or two copies of this journal
are now discoverable, but its appearance can be
judged from the reduced facsimile here shown. The
thing was indeed well done as the work of a youth
shown by the date to be less than fifteen years old.
The literary style is good, there are only a few trivial
slips in spelling, and the appreciation is keen of what
would be interesting news and gossip. The price was
three cents a copy, or eight cents a month for regular
subscribers, and the circulation ran up to over
four hundred copies an issue. This was by no means
the result of mere public curiosity, but attested the
value of the sheet as a genuine newspaper, to which
many persons in the railroad service along the line
were willing contributors. Indeed, with the aid of
the railway telegraph, Edison was often able to print
late news of importance, of local origin, that the distant
regular papers like those of Detroit, which he
handled as a newsboy, could not get. It is no wonder
that this clever little sheet received the approval
and patronage of the English engineer Stephenson
when inspecting the Grand Trunk system, and was
noted by no less distinguished a contemporary than
the London Times as the first newspaper in the world
to be printed on a train in motion. The youthful
proprietor sometimes cleared as much as twenty to
thirty dollars a month from this unique journalistic
enterprise.

But all this extra work required attention, and
Edison solved the difficulty of attending also to the
newsboy business by the employment of a young
friend, whom he trained and treated liberally as an
understudy. There was often plenty of work for
both in the early days of the war, when the news of
battle caused intense excitement and large sales of
papers. Edison, with native shrewdness already so
strikingly displayed, would telegraph the station
agents and get them to bulletin the event of the day
at the front, so that when each station was reached
there were eager purchasers waiting. He recalls in
particular the sensation caused by the great battle
of Shiloh, or Pittsburg Landing, in April, 1862, in
which both Grant and Sherman were engaged, in
which Johnston died, and in which there was a ghastly
total of 25,000 killed and wounded.

In describing his enterprising action that day, Edison
says that when he reached Detroit the bulletin-
boards of the newspaper offices were surrounded with
dense crowds, which read awestricken the news that
there were 60,000 killed and wounded, and that the
result was uncertain. "I knew that if the same
excitement was attained at the various small towns
along the road, and especially at Port Huron, the sale
of papers would be great. I then conceived the idea
of telegraphing the news ahead, went to the operator
in the depot, and by giving him Harper's Weekly and
some other papers for three months, he agreed to
telegraph to all the stations the matter on the bulletin-board.
I hurriedly copied it, and he sent it, requesting
the agents to display it on the blackboards
used for stating the arrival and departure of trains. I
decided that instead of the usual one hundred papers
I could sell one thousand; but not having sufficient
money to purchase that number, I determined in my
desperation to see the editor himself and get credit.
The great paper at that time was the Detroit Free
Press. I walked into the office marked "Editorial"
and told a young man that I wanted to see the editor
on important business--important to me, anyway,
I was taken into an office where there were two men,
and I stated what I had done about telegraphing,
and that I wanted a thousand papers, but only had
money for three hundred, and I wanted credit. One
of the men refused it, but the other told the first
spokesman to let me have them. This man, I afterward
learned, was Wilbur F. Storey, who subsequently
founded the Chicago Times, and became celebrated in
the newspaper world. By the aid of another boy I
lugged the papers to the train and started folding
them. The first station, called Utica, was a small
one where I generally sold two papers. I saw a
crowd ahead on the platform, and thought it some
excursion, but the moment I landed there was a rush
for me; then I realized that the telegraph was a great
invention. I sold thirty-five papers there. The next
station was Mount Clemens, now a watering-place,
but then a town of about one thousand. I usually
sold six to eight papers there. I decided that if I
found a corresponding crowd there, the only thing
to do to correct my lack of judgment in not getting
more papers was to raise the price from five cents to
ten. The crowd was there, and I raised the price. At
the various towns there were corresponding crowds.
It had been my practice at Port Huron to jump from
the train at a point about one-fourth of a mile from
the station, where the train generally slackened
speed. I had drawn several loads of sand to this
point to jump on, and had become quite expert. The
little Dutch boy with the horse met me at this point.
When the wagon approached the outskirts of the
town I was met by a large crowd. I then yelled:
`Twenty-five cents apiece, gentlemen! I haven't
enough to go around!' I sold all out, and made what
to me then was an immense sum of money."

Such episodes as this added materially to his income,
but did not necessarily increase his savings,
for he was then, as now, an utter spendthrift so long
as some new apparatus or supplies for experiment
could be had. In fact, the laboratory on wheels soon
became crowded with such equipment, most costly
chemicals were bought on the instalment plan, and
Fresenius' Qualitative Analysis served as a basis for
ceaseless testing and study. George Pullman, who
then had a small shop at Detroit and was working
on his sleeping-car, made Edison a lot of wooden
apparatus for his chemicals, to the boy's delight.
Unfortunately a sudden change came, fraught with
disaster. The train, running one day at thirty miles
an hour over a piece of poorly laid track, was thrown
suddenly out of the perpendicular with a violent
lurch, and, before Edison could catch it, a stick of
phosphorus was jarred from its shelf, fell to the
floor, and burst into flame. The car took fire, and
the boy, in dismay, was still trying to quench the
blaze when the conductor, a quick-tempered Scotchman,
who acted also as baggage-master, hastened to
the scene with water and saved his car. On the arrival
at Mount Clemens station, its next stop, Edison
and his entire outfit, laboratory, printing-plant, and
all, were promptly ejected by the enraged conductor,
and the train then moved off, leaving him on the platform,
tearful and indignant in the midst of his beloved
but ruined possessions. It was lynch law of a
kind; but in view of the responsibility, this action of
the conductor lay well within his rights and duties.

It was through this incident that Edison acquired
the deafness that has persisted all through his life,
a severe box on the ears from the scorched and angry
conductor being the direct cause of the infirmity.
Although this deafness would be regarded as a great
affliction by most people, and has brought in its train
other serious baubles, Mr. Edison has always regarded
it philosophically, and said about it recently:
"This deafness has been of great advantage to me
in various ways. When in a telegraph office, I could
only hear the instrument directly on the table at
which I sat, and unlike the other operators, I was not
bothered by the other instruments. Again, in
experimenting on the telephone, I had to improve the
transmitter so I could hear it. This made the telephone
commercial, as the magneto telephone receiver
of Bell was too weak to be used as a transmitter
commercially. It was the same with the phonograph.
The great defect of that instrument was the
rendering of the overtones in music, and the hissing
consonants in speech. I worked over one year,
twenty hours a day' Sundays and all, to get the word
`specie ' perfectly recorded and reproduced on the
phonograph. When this was done I knew that
everything else could be done which was a fact.
Again, my nerves have been preserved intact. Broadway
is as quiet to me as a country village is to a
person with normal hearing."

Saddened but not wholly discouraged, Edison soon
reconstituted his laboratory and printing-office at
home, although on the part of the family there was
some fear and objection after this episode, on the score
of fire. But Edison promised not to bring in anything
of a dangerous nature. He did not cease the
publication of the Weekly Herald. On the contrary,
he prospered in both his enterprises until persuaded
by the "printer's devil" in the office of the
Port Huron Commercial to change the character of
 his journal, enlarge it, and issue it under the name
of Paul Pry, a happy designation for this or kindred
ventures in the domain of society journalism. No
copies of Paul Pry can now be found, but it is
known that its style was distinctly personal, that
gossip was its specialty, and that no small offence
was given to the people whose peculiarities or peccadilloes
were discussed in a frank and breezy style by
the two boys. In one instance the resentment of
the victim of such unsought publicity was so intense
he laid hands on Edison and pitched the startled
young editor into the St. Clair River. The name of
this violator of the freedom of the press was thereafter
excluded studiously from the columns of Paul
Pry, and the incident may have been one of those
which soon caused the abandonment of the paper.
Edison had great zest in this work, and but for the
strong influences in other directions would probably
have continued in the newspaper field, in which he
was, beyond question, the youngest publisher and
editor of the day.

Before leaving this period of his career, it is to be
noted that it gave Edison many favorable opportunities.
In Detroit he could spend frequent hours
in the public library, and it is matter of record that
he began his liberal acquaintance with its contents
by grappling bravely with a certain section and trying
to read it through consecutively, shelf by shelf,
regardless of subject. In a way this is curiously
suggestive of the earnest, energetic method of "frontal
attack" with which the inventor has since addressed
himself to so many problems in the arts and sciences.

The Grand Trunk Railroad machine-shops at Port
Huron were a great attraction to the boy, who appears
to have spent a good deal of his time there. He who
was to have much to do with the evolution of the
modern electric locomotive was fascinated by the
mechanism of the steam locomotive; and whenever
he could get the chance Edison rode in the cab with
the engineer of his train. He became thoroughly
familiar with the intricacies of fire-box, boiler, valves,
levers, and gears, and liked nothing better than to
handle the locomotive himself during the run. On
one trip, when the engineer lay asleep while his eager
substitute piloted the train, the boiler "primed,"
and a deluge overwhelmed the young driver, who
stuck to his post till the run and the ordeal were
ended. Possibly this helped to spoil a locomotive
engineer, but went to make a great master of the new
motive power. "Steam is half an Englishman," said
Emerson. The temptation is strong to say that workaday
electricity is half an American. Edison's own
account of the incident is very laughable: "The engine
was one of a number leased to the Grand Trunk by
the Chicago, Burlington & Quincy. It had bright brass
bands all over, the woodwork beautifully painted,
and everything highly polished, which was the custom
up to the time old Commodore Vanderbilt
stopped it on his roads. After running about fifteen
miles the fireman couldn't keep his eyes open (this
event followed an all-night dance of the trainmen's
fraternal organization), and he agreed to permit me
to run the engine. I took charge, reducing the speed
to about twelve miles an hour, and brought the
train of seven cars to her destination at the Grand
Trunk junction safely. But something occurred which
was very much out of the ordinary. I was very much
worried about the water, and I knew that if it got
low the boiler was likely to explode. I hadn't gone
twenty miles before black damp mud blew out of the
stack and covered every part of the engine, including
myself. I was about to awaken the fireman to find
out the cause of this when it stopped. Then I approached
a station where the fireman always went out
to the cowcatcher, opened the oil-cup on the steam-
chest, and poured oil in. I started to carry out the
procedure when, upon opening the oil-cup, the steam
rushed out with a tremendous noise, nearly knocking
me off the engine. I succeeded in closing the oil-cup
and got back in the cab, and made up my mind that
she would pull through without oil. I learned afterward
that the engineer always shut off steam when
the fireman went out to oil. This point I failed to
notice. My powers of observation were very much improved
after this occurrence. Just before I reached
the junction another outpour of black mud occurred,
and the whole engine was a sight--so much so that
when I pulled into the yard everybody turned to see
it, laughing immoderately. I found the reason of the
mud was that I carried so much water it passed over
into the stack, and this washed out all the accumulated
soot."

One afternoon about a week before Christmas Edison's
train jumped the track near Utica, a station
on the line. Four old Michigan Central cars with
rotten sills collapsed in the ditch and went all to
pieces, distributing figs, raisins, dates, and candies
all over the track and the vicinity. Hating to see so
much waste, Edison tried to save all he could by eating
it on the spot, but as a result "our family doctor had
the time of his life with me in this connection."

An absurd incident described by Edison throws a
vivid light on the free-and-easy condition of early railroad
travel and on the Southern extravagance of the
time. "In 1860, just before the war broke out there
came to the train one afternoon, in Detroit, two fine-
looking young men accompanied by a colored servant.
They bought tickets for Port Huron, the terminal point
for the train. After leaving the junction just outside
of Detroit, I brought in the evening papers. When I
came opposite the two young men, one of them said:
`Boy, what have you got?' I said: `Papers.' `All
right.' He took them and threw them out of the
window, and, turning to the colored man, said:
`Nicodemus, pay this boy.' I told Nicodemus the
amount, and he opened a satchel and paid me. The
passengers didn't know what to make of the transaction.
I returned with the illustrated papers and
magazines. These were seized and thrown out of
the window, and I was told to get my money of
Nicodemus. I then returned with all the old magazines
and novels I had not been able to sell, thinking
perhaps this would be too much for them. I was
small and thin, and the layer reached above my head,
and was all I could possibly carry. I had prepared a
list, and knew the amount in case they bit again.
When I opened the door, all the passengers roared
with laughter. I walked right up to the young men.
One asked me what I had. I said `Magazines and
novels.' He promptly threw them out of the window,
and Nicodemus settled. Then I came in with
cracked hickory nuts, then pop-corn balls, and, finally,
molasses candy. All went out of the window. I felt
like Alexander the Great!--I had no more chance! I
had sold all I had. Finally I put a rope to my trunk,
which was about the size of a carpenter's chest, and
started to pull this from the baggage-car to the
passenger-car. It was almost too much for my
strength, but at last I got it in front of those men.
I pulled off my coat, shoes, and hat, and laid them
on the chest. Then he asked: `What have you got,
boy?' I said: `Everything, sir, that I can spare that is
for sale.' The passengers fairly jumped with laughter.
Nicodemus paid me $27 for this last sale, and threw
the whole out of the door in the rear of the car. These
men were from the South, and I have always retained
a soft spot in my heart for a Southern gentleman."

While Edison was a newsboy on the train a request
came to him one day to go to the office of E. B. Ward
& Company, at that time the largest owners of steamboats
on the Great Lakes. The captain of their largest
boat had died suddenly, and they wanted a message
taken to another captain who lived about fourteen
miles from Ridgeway station on the railroad. This
captain had retired, taken up some lumber land, and
had cleared part of it. Edison was offered $15 by
Mr. Ward to go and fetch him, but as it was a wild
country and would be dark, Edison stood out for
$25, so that he could get the companionship of another
lad. The terms were agreed to. Edison arrived
at Ridgeway at 8.30 P.M., when it was raining and as
dark as ink. Getting another boy with difficulty to
volunteer, he launched out on his errand in the pitch-
black night. The two boys carried lanterns, but the
road was a rough path through dense forest. The
country was wild, and it was a usual occurrence to
see deer, bear, and coon skins nailed up on the sides
of houses to dry. Edison had read about bears, but
couldn't remember whether they were day or night
prowlers. The farther they went the more apprehensive
they became, and every stump in the ravished
forest looked like a bear. The other lad proposed
seeking safety up a tree, but Edison demurred on
the plea that bears could climb, and that the message
must be delivered that night to enable the captain to
catch the morning train. First one lantern went
out, then the other. "We leaned up against a tree
and cried. I thought if I ever got out of that scrape
alive I would know more about the habits of animals
and everything else, and be prepared for all kinds of
mischance when I undertook an enterprise. However,
the intense darkness dilated the pupils of our
eyes so as to make them very sensitive, and we could
just see at times the outlines of the road. Finally,
just as a faint gleam of daylight arrived, we entered
the captain's yard and delivered the message. In
my whole life I never spent such a night of horror
as this, but I got a good lesson."

An amusing incident of this period is told by Edison.
"When I was a boy," he says, "the Prince of Wales,
the late King Edward, came to Canada (1860). Great
preparations were made at Sarnia, the Canadian town
opposite Port Huron. About every boy, including myself,
went over to see the affair. The town was draped
in flags most profusely, and carpets were laid on the
cross-walks for the prince to walk on. There were
arches, etc. A stand was built raised above the general
level, where the prince was to be received by the
mayor. Seeing all these preparations, my idea of
a prince was very high; but when he did arrive I
mistook the Duke of Newcastle for him, the duke
being a fine-looking man. I soon saw that I was mistaken:
that the prince was a young stripling, and did
not meet expectations. Several of us expressed our
belief that a prince wasn't much, after all, and said
that we were thoroughly disappointed. For this one
boy was whipped. Soon the Canuck boys attacked
the Yankee boys, and we were all badly licked. I,
myself, got a black eye. That has always prejudiced
me against that kind of ceremonial and folly." It is
certainly interesting to note that in later years the
prince for whom Edison endured the ignominy of a
black eye made generous compensation in a graceful
letter accompanying the gold Albert Medal awarded
by the Royal Society of Arts.

Another incident of the period is as follows: "After
selling papers in Port Huron, which was often not
reached until about 9.30 at night, I seldom got home
before 11.00 or 11.30. About half-way home from the
station and the town, and within twenty-five feet of
the road in a dense wood, was a soldiers' graveyard
where three hundred soldiers were buried, due to a
cholera epidemic which took place at Fort Gratiot,
near by, many years previously. At first we used
to shut our eyes and run the horse past this graveyard,
and if the horse stepped on a twig my heart
would give a violent movement, and it is a wonder
that I haven't some valvular disease of that organ.
But soon this running of the horse became monotonous,
and after a while all fears of graveyards absolutely
disappeared from my system. I was in the
condition of Sam Houston, the pioneer and founder
of Texas, who, it was said, knew no fear. Houston
lived some distance from the town and generally went
home late at night, having to pass through a dark
cypress swamp over a corduroy road. One night, to
test his alleged fearlessness, a man stationed himself
behind a tree and enveloped himself in a sheet. He
confronted Houston suddenly, and Sam stopped and
said: `If you are a man, you can't hurt me. If you
are a ghost, you don't want to hurt me. And if you are
the devil, come home with me; I married your sister!' "

It is not to be inferred, however, from some of
the preceding statements that the boy was of an
exclusively studious bent of mind. He had then, as
now, the keen enjoyment of a joke, and no particular
aversion to the practical form. An incident of the
time is in point. "After the breaking out of the war
there was a regiment of volunteer soldiers quartered at
Fort Gratiot, the reservation extending to the boundary
line of our house. Nearly every night we would
hear a call, such as `Corporal of the Guard, No. 1.'
This would be repeated from sentry to sentry until
it reached the barracks, when Corporal of the Guard,
No. 1, would come and see what was wanted. I and
the little Dutch boy, after returning from the town
after selling our papers, thought we would take a
hand at military affairs. So one night, when it was
very dark, I shouted for Corporal of the Guard, No. 1.
The second sentry, thinking it was the terminal
sentry who shouted, repeated it to the third, and so
on. This brought the corporal along the half mile,
only to find that he was fooled. We tried him three
nights; but the third night they were watching, and
caught the little Dutch boy, took him to the lock-up
at the fort, and shut him up. They chased me to
the house. I rushed for the cellar. In one small
apartment there were two barrels of potatoes and a
third one nearly empty. I poured these remnants
into the other barrels, sat down, and pulled the barrel
over my head, bottom up. The soldiers had awakened
my father, and they were searching for me with
candles and lanterns. The corporal was absolutely
certain I came into the cellar, and couldn't see how I
could have gotten out, and wanted to know from
my father if there was no secret hiding-place. On
assurance of my father, who said that there was not,
he said it was most extraordinary. I was glad when
they left, as I was cramped, and the potatoes were
rotten that had been in the barrel and violently
offensive. The next morning I was found in bed,
and received a good switching on the legs from my
father, the first and only one I ever received from
him, although my mother kept a switch behind the
old Seth Thomas clock that had the bark worn off.
My mother's ideas and mine differed at times,
especially when I got experimenting and mussed up
things. The Dutch boy was released next morning."



CHAPTER IV

THE YOUNG TELEGRAPH OPERATOR

"WHILE a newsboy on the railroad," says Edison,
"I got very much interested in electricity,
probably from visiting telegraph offices with a chum
who had tastes similar to mine." It will also have
been noted that he used the telegraph to get items
for his little journal, and to bulletin his special news
of the Civil War along the line. The next step was
natural, and having with his knowledge of chemistry
no trouble about "setting up" his batteries, the
difficulties of securing apparatus were chiefly those
connected with the circuits and the instruments.
American youths to-day are given, if of a mechanical
turn of mind, to amateur telegraphy or telephony,
but seldom, if ever, have to make any part of the
system constructed. In Edison's boyish days it was
quite different, and telegraphic supplies were hard to
obtain. But he and his "chum" had a line between
their homes, built of common stove-pipe wire. The insulators
were bottles set on nails driven into trees and
short poles. The magnet wire was wound with rags for
insulation, and pieces of spring brass were used for
keys. With an idea of securing current cheaply,
Edison applied the little that he knew about static
electricity, and actually experimented with cats,
which he treated vigorously as frictional machines
until the animals fled in dismay, and Edison had
learned his first great lesson in the relative value of
sources of electrical energy. The line was made to
work, however, and additional to the messages that
the boys interchanged, Edison secured practice in an
ingenious manner. His father insisted on 11.30 as
proper bedtime, which left but a short interval after
the long day on the train. But each evening, when
the boy went home with a bundle of papers that had
not been sold in the town, his father would sit up
reading the "returnables." Edison, therefore, on
some excuse, left the papers with his friend, but
suggested that he could get the news from him by
telegraph, bit by bit. The scheme interested his
father, and was put into effect, the messages being
written down and handed over for perusal. This
yielded good practice nightly, lasting until 12 and 1
o'clock, and was maintained for some time until Mr.
Edison became willing that his son should stay up
for a reasonable time. The papers were then brought
home again, and the boys amused themselves to their
hearts' content until the line was pulled down by a
stray cow wandering through the orchard. Meantime
better instruments had been secured, and the
rudiments of telegraphy had been fairly mastered.

The mixed train on which Edison was employed as
newsboy did the way-freight work and shunting at
the Mount Clemens station, about half an hour being
usually spent in the work. One August morning, in
1862, while the shunting was in progress, and a laden
box-car had been pushed out of a siding, Edison, who
was loitering about the platform, saw the little son
of the station agent, Mr. J. U. Mackenzie, playing
with the gravel on the main track along which the
car without a brakeman was rapidly approaching.
Edison dropped his papers and his glazed cap, and
made a dash for the child, whom he picked up and
lifted to safety without a second to spare, as the wheel
of the car struck his heel; and both were cut about the
face and hands by the gravel ballast on which they
fell. The two boys were picked up by the train-hands
and carried to the platform, and the grateful father
at once offered to teach the rescuer, whom he knew
and liked, the art of train telegraphy and to make
an operator of him. It is needless to say that the
proposal was eagerly accepted.

Edison found time for his new studies by letting
one of his friends look after the newsboy work on the
train for part of the trip, reserving to himself the run
between Port Huron and Mount Clemens. That he
was already well qualified as a beginner is evident
from the fact that he had mastered the Morse code
of the telegraphic alphabet, and was able to take to
the station a neat little set of instruments he had
just finished with his own hands at a gun-shop in
Detroit. This was probably a unique achievement
in itself among railway operators of that day or of
later times. The drill of the student involved chiefly
the acquisition of the special signals employed in
railway work, including the numerals and abbreviations
applied to save time. Some of these have passed
into the slang of the day, "73" being well known as
a telegrapher's expression of compliments or good
wishes, while "23" is an accident or death message,
and has been given broader popular significance as
a general synonym for "hoodoo." All of this came
easily to Edison, who had, moreover, as his Herald
showed, an unusual familiarity with train movement
along that portion of the Grand Trunk road.

Three or four months were spent pleasantly and
profitably by the youth in this course of study, and
Edison took to it enthusiastically, giving it no less
than eighteen hours a day. He then put up a little
telegraph line from the station to the village, a distance
of about a mile, and opened an office in a drug
store; but the business was naturally very small.
The telegraph operator at Port Huron knowing of his
proficiency, and wanting to get into the United States
Military Telegraph Corps, where the pay in those days
of the Civil War was high, succeeded in convincing
his brother-in-law, Mr. M. Walker, that young Edison
could fill the position. Edison was, of course, well
acquainted with the operators along the road and at
the southern terminal, and took up his new duties
very easily. The office was located in a jewelry store,
where newspapers and periodicals were also sold.
Edison was to be found at the office both day and
night, sleeping there. "I became quite valuable to
Mr. Walker. After working all day I worked at the
office nights as well, for the reason that `press report'
came over one of the wires until 3 A.M., and I would
cut in and copy it as well as I could, to become more
rapidly proficient. The goal of the rural telegraph
operator was to be able to take press. Mr. Walker
tried to get my father to apprentice me at $20 per
month, but they could not agree. I then applied for
a job on the Grand Trunk Railroad as a railway
operator, and was given a place, nights, at Stratford
Junction, Canada." Apparently his friend Mackenzie
helped him in the matter. The position carried
a salary of $25 per month. No serious objections
were raised by his family, for the distance from Port
Huron was not great, and Stratford was near Bayfield,
the old home from which the Edisons had come,
so that there were doubtless friends or even relatives
in the vicinity. This was in 1863.

Mr. Walker was an observant man, who has since
that time installed a number of waterworks systems
and obtained several patents of his own. He describes
the boy of sixteen as engrossed intensely in
his experiments and scientific reading, and somewhat
indifferent, for this reason, to his duties as operator.
This office was not particularly busy, taking from
$50 to $75 a month, but even the messages taken
in would remain unsent on the hook while Edison
was in the cellar below trying to solve some chemical
problem. The manager would see him studying
sometimes an article in such a paper as the Scientific
American, and then disappearing to buy a few sundries
for experiments. Returning from the drug
store with his chemicals, he would not be seen again
until required by his duties, or until he had found out
for himself, if possible, in this offhand manner,
whether what he had read was correct or not. When
he had completed his experiment all interest in it
was lost, and the jars and wires would be left to any
fate that might befall them. In like manner Edison
would make free use of the watchmaker's tools that
lay on the little table in the front window, and would
take the wire pliers there without much thought as
to their value as distinguished from a lineman's
tools. The one idea was to do quickly what he
wanted to do; and the same swift, almost headlong
trial of anything that comes to hand, while the fervor
of a new experiment is felt, has been noted at all
stages of the inventor's career. One is reminded of
Palissy's recklessness, when in his efforts to make the
enamel melt on his pottery he used the very furniture
of his home for firewood.

Mr. Edison remarks the fact that there was very
little difference between the telegraph of that time
and of to-day, except the general use of the old Morse
register with the dots and dashes recorded by indenting
paper strips that could be read and checked
later at leisure if necessary. He says: "The telegraph
men couldn't explain how it worked, and I
was always trying to get them to do so. I think they
couldn't. I remember the best explanation I got
was from an old Scotch line repairer employed by the
Montreal Telegraph Company, which operated the
railroad wires. He said that if you had a dog like
a dachshund, long enough to reach from Edinburgh
to London, if you pulled his tail in Edinburgh he would
bark in London. I could understand that, but I
never could get it through me what went through the
dog or over the wire." To-day Mr. Edison is just as
unable to solve the inner mystery of electrical
transmission. Nor is he alone. At the banquet given to
celebrate his jubilee in 1896 as professor at Glasgow
University, Lord Kelvin, the greatest physicist of our
time, admitted with tears in his eyes and the note of
tragedy in his voice, that when it came to explaining
the nature of electricity, he knew just as little as
when he had begun as a student, and felt almost as
though his life had been wasted while he tried to
grapple with the great mystery of physics.

Another episode of this period is curious in its
revelation of the tenacity with which Edison has
always held to some of his oldest possessions with a
sense of personal attachment. "While working at
Stratford Junction," he says, "I was told by one of
the freight conductors that in the freight-house at
Goodrich there were several boxes of old broken-up
batteries. I went there and found over eighty cells
of the well-known Grove nitric-acid battery. The
operator there, who was also agent, when asked by
me if I could have the electrodes of each cell, made
of sheet platinum, gave his permission readily, thinking
they were of tin. I removed them all, amounting
to several ounces. Platinum even in those days
was very expensive, costing several dollars an ounce,
and I owned only three small strips. I was overjoyed
at this acquisition, and those very strips and
the reworked scrap are used to this day in my laboratory
over forty years later."

It was at Stratford that Edison's inventiveness was
first displayed. The hours of work of a night operator
are usually from 7 P.M. to 7 A.M., and to insure attention
while on duty it is often provided that the
operator every hour, from 9 P.M. until relieved by the
day operator, shall send in the signal "6" to the
train dispatcher's office. Edison revelled in the
opportunity for study and experiment given him by his
long hours of freedom in the daytime, but needed
sleep, just as any healthy youth does. Confronted
by the necessity of sending in this watchman's signal
as evidence that he was awake and on duty, he constructed
a small wheel with notches on the rim, and
attached it to the clock in such a manner that the
night-watchman could start it when the line was
quiet, and at each hour the wheel revolved and sent
in accurately the dots required for "sixing." The
invention was a success, the device being, indeed,
similar to that of the modern district messenger box;
but it was soon noticed that, in spite of the regularity
of the report, "Sf" could not be raised even if a train
message were sent immediately after. Detection and
a reprimand came in due course, but were not taken
very seriously.

A serious occurrence that might have resulted in
accident drove him soon after from Canada, although
the youth could hardly be held to blame for it.
Edison says: "This night job just suited me, as I
could have the whole day to myself. I had the faculty
of sleeping in a chair any time for a few minutes at
a time. I taught the night-yardman my call, so I
could get half an hour's sleep now and then between
trains, and in case the station was called the watchman
would awaken me. One night I got an order
to hold a freight train, and I replied that I would.
I rushed out to find the signalman, but before I could
find him and get the signal set, the train ran past.
I ran to the telegraph office, and reported that I could
not hold her. The reply was: `Hell!' The train dispatcher,
on the strength of my message that I would
hold the train, had permitted another to leave the
last station in the opposite direction. There was
a lower station near the junction where the day
operator slept. I started for it on foot. The night
was dark, and I fell into a culvert and was knocked
senseless." Owing to the vigilance of the two engineers
on the locomotives, who saw each other approaching
on the straight single track, nothing more
dreadful happened than a summons to the thoughtless
operator to appear before the general manager at
Toronto. On reaching the manager's office, his trial
for neglect of duty was fortunately interrupted by
the call of two Englishmen; and while their conversation
proceeded, Edison slipped quietly out of the
room, hurried to the Grand Trunk freight depot,
found a conductor he knew taking out a freight train
for Sarnia, and was not happy until the ferry-boat
from Sarnia had landed him once more on the Michigan
shore. The Grand Trunk still owes Mr. Edison
the wages due him at the time he thus withdrew
from its service, but the claim has never been pressed.

The same winter of 1863-64, while at Port Huron,
Edison had a further opportunity of displaying his
ingenuity. An ice-jam had broken the light telegraph
cable laid in the bed of the river across to
Sarnia, and thus communication was interrupted.
The river is three-quarters of a mile wide, and could
not be crossed on foot; nor could the cable be repaired.
Edison at once suggested using the steam whistle of
the locomotive, and by manipulating the valve con-
versed the short and long outbursts of shrill sound
into the Morse code. An operator on the Sarnia shore
was quick enough to catch the significance of the
strange whistling, and messages were thus sent in
wireless fashion across the ice-floes in the river. It
is said that such signals were also interchanged by
military telegraphers during the war, and possibly
Edison may have heard of the practice; but be that
as it may, he certainly showed ingenuity and resource
in applying such a method to meet the necessity.
It is interesting to note that at this point the Grand
Trunk now has its St. Clair tunnel, through which the
trains are hauled under the river-bed by electric
locomotives.

Edison had now begun unconsciously the roaming
and drifting that took him during the next five years
all over the Middle States, and that might well have
wrecked the career of any one less persistent and
industrious. It was a period of his life corresponding
to the Wanderjahre of the German artisan, and
was an easy way of gratifying a taste for travel
without the risk of privation. To-day there is little
temptation to the telegrapher to go to distant parts
of the country on the chance that he may secure a
livelihood at the key. The ranks are well filled everywhere,
and of late years the telegraph as an art or
industry has shown relatively slight expansion, owing
chiefly to the development of telephony. Hence, if vacancies
occur, there are plenty of operators available,
and salaries have remained so low as to lead to one or
two formidable and costly strikes that unfortunately
took no account of the economic conditions of demand
and supply. But in the days of the Civil War there
was a great dearth of skilful manipulators of the key.
About fifteen hundred of the best operators in the
country were at the front on the Federal side alone,
and several hundred more had enlisted. This created
a serious scarcity, and a nomadic operator going to any
telegraphic centre would be sure to find a place open
waiting for him. At the close of the war a majority
of those who had been with the two opposed armies
remained at the key under more peaceful surroundings,
but the rapid development of the commercial
and railroad systems fostered a new demand, and
then for a time it seemed almost impossible to train
new operators fast enough. In a few years, however,
the telephone sprang into vigorous existence,
dating from 1876, drawing off some of the most
adventurous spirits from the telegraph field; and the
deterrent influence of the telephone on the telegraph
had made itself felt by 1890. The expiration of the
leading Bell telephone patents, five years later,
accentuated even more sharply the check that had
been put on telegraphy, as hundreds and thousands
of "independent" telephone companies were then
organized, throwing a vast network of toll lines over
Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, and other States, and
affording cheap, instantaneous means of communication
without any necessity for the intervention of an
operator.

It will be seen that the times have changed radically
since Edison became a telegrapher, and that in
this respect a chapter of electrical history has been
definitely closed. There was a day when the art
offered a distinct career to all of its practitioners,
and young men of ambition and good family were
eager to begin even as messenger boys, and were
ready to undergo a severe ordeal of apprenticeship
with the belief that they could ultimately attain positions
of responsibility and profit. At the same time
operators have always been shrewd enough to regard
the telegraph as a stepping-stone to other careers
in life. A bright fellow entering the telegraph service
to-day finds the experience he may gain therein
valuable, but he soon realizes that there are not
enough good-paying official positions to "go around,"
so as to give each worthy man a chance after he has
mastered the essentials of the art. He feels, therefore,
that to remain at the key involves either stagnation
or deterioration, and that after, say, twenty-five years
of practice he will have lost ground as compared with
friends who started out in other occupations. The
craft of an operator, learned without much difficulty,
is very attractive to a youth, but a position at the
key is no place for a man of mature years. His services,
with rare exceptions, grow less valuable as he
advances in age and nervous strain breaks him down.
On the contrary, men engaged in other professions
find, as a rule, that they improve and advance with
experience, and that age brings larger rewards and
opportunities.

The list of well-known Americans who have been
graduates of the key is indeed an extraordinary one,
and there is no department of our national life in
which they have not distinguished themselves. The
contrast, in this respect, between them and their
European colleagues is highly significant. In Europe
the telegraph systems are all under government
management, the operators have strictly limited
spheres of promotion, and at the best the transition
from one kind of employment to another is not
made so easily as in the New World. But in the
United States we have seen Rufus Bullock become
Governor of Georgia, and Ezra Cornell Governor of
New York. Marshall Jewell was Postmaster-General
of President Grant's Cabinet, and Daniel Lamont was
Secretary of State in President Cleveland's. Gen.
T. T. Eckert, past-President of the Western Union
Telegraph Company, was Assistant Secretary of War
under President Lincoln; and Robert J. Wynne, afterward
a consul-general, served as Assistant Postmaster
General. A very large proportion of the presidents
and leading officials of the great railroad systems are
old telegraphers, including Messrs. W. C. Brown,
President of the New York Central Railroad, and
Marvin Hughitt, President of the Chicago & North
western Railroad. In industrial and financial life
there have been Theodore N. Vail, President of the
Bell telephone system; L. C. Weir, late President of
the Adams Express; A. B. Chandler, President of the
Postal Telegraph and Cable Company; Sir W. Van
Home, identified with Canadian development; Robert
C. Clowry, President of the Western Union Telegraph
Company; D. H. Bates, Manager of the Baltimore &
Ohio telegraph for Robert Garrett; and Andrew
Carnegie, the greatest ironmaster the world has ever
known, as well as its greatest philanthropist. In
journalism there have been leaders like Edward Rose-

water, founder of the Omaha Bee; W. J. Elverson, of
the Philadelphia Press; and Frank A. Munsey, publisher
of half a dozen big magazines. George Kennan
has achieved fame in literature, and Guy Carleton
and Harry de Souchet have been successful as dramatists.
These are but typical of hundreds of men
who could be named who have risen from work at the
key to become recognized leaders in differing spheres
of activity.

But roving has never been favorable to the formation
of steady habits. The young men who thus
floated about the country from one telegraph office
to another were often brilliant operators, noted for
speed in sending and receiving, but they were undisciplined,
were without the restraining influences of
home life, and were so highly paid for their work that
they could indulge freely in dissipation if inclined
that way. Subjected to nervous tension for hours
together at the key, many of them unfortunately
took to drink, and having ended one engagement in
a city by a debauch that closed the doors of the
office to them, would drift away to the nearest town,
and there securing work, would repeat the performance.
At one time, indeed, these men were so numerous
and so much in evidence as to constitute a type
that the public was disposed to accept as representative
of the telegraphic fraternity; but as the conditions
creating him ceased to exist, the "tramp
operator" also passed into history. It was, however,
among such characters that Edison was very largely
thrown in these early days of aimless drifting, to learn
something perhaps of their nonchalant philosophy of
life, sharing bed and board with them under all kinds
of adverse conditions, but always maintaining a stoic
abstemiousness, and never feeling other than a keen
regret at the waste of so much genuine ability and
kindliness on the part of those knights errant of the
key whose inevitable fate might so easily have been
his own.

Such a class or group of men can always be presented
by an individual type, and this is assuredly
best embodied in Milton F. Adams, one of Edison's
earliest and closest friends, to whom reference will
be made in later chapters, and whose life has been
so full of adventurous episodes that he might well be
regarded as the modern Gil Blas. That career is
certainly well worth the telling as "another story,"
to use the Kipling phrase. Of him Edison says:
"Adams was one of a class of operators never satisfied
to work at any place for any great length of
time. He had the `wanderlust.' After enjoying hospitality
in Boston in 1868-69, on the floor of my hall-
bedroom, which was a paradise for the entomologist,
while the boarding-house itself was run on the banting
system of flesh reduction, he came to me one day
and said: `Good-bye, Edison; I have got sixty cents,
and I am going to San Francisco.' And he did go.
How, I never knew personally. I learned afterward
that he got a job there, and then within a week they
had a telegraphers' strike. He got a big torch and
sold patent medicine on the streets at night to support
the strikers. Then he went to Peru as partner
of a man who had a grizzly bear which they proposed
entering against a bull in the bull-ring in that city.
The grizzly was killed in five minutes, and so the
scheme died. Then Adams crossed the Andes, and
started a market-report bureau in Buenos Ayres.
This didn't pay, so he started a restaurant in Pernambuco,
Brazil. There he did very well, but something
went wrong (as it always does to a nomad), so
he went to the Transvaal, and ran a panorama called
`Paradise Lost' in the Kaffir kraals. This didn't
pay, and he became the editor of a newspaper; then
went to England to raise money for a railroad in Cape
Colony. Next I heard of him in New York, having
just arrived from Bogota, United States of Colombia,
with a power of attorney and $2000 from a native
of that republic, who had applied for a patent for
tightening a belt to prevent it from slipping on a
pulley--a device which he thought a new and great
invention, but which was in use ever since machinery
was invented. I gave Adams, then, a position as salesman
for electrical apparatus. This he soon got tired
of, and I lost sight of him." Adams, in speaking of
this episode, says that when he asked for transportation
expenses to St. Louis, Edison pulled out of his
pocket a ferry ticket to Hoboken, and said to his
associates: "I'll give him that, and he'll get there
all right." This was in the early days of electric
lighting; but down to the present moment the peregrinations
of this versatile genius of the key have
never ceased in one hemisphere or the other, so that
as Mr. Adams himself remarked to the authors in
April, 1908: "The life has been somewhat variegated,
but never dull."

The fact remains also that throughout this period
Edison, while himself a very Ishmael, never ceased
to study, explore, experiment. Referring to this beginning
of his career, he mentions a curious fact that
throws light on his ceaseless application. "After I
became a telegraph operator," he says, "I practiced
for a long time to become a rapid reader of print, and
got so expert I could sense the meaning of a whole
line at once. This faculty, I believe, should be taught
in schools, as it appears to be easily acquired. Then
one can read two or three books in a day, whereas if
each word at a time only is sensed, reading is laborious."



CHAPTER V

ARDUOUS YEARS IN THE CENTRAL WEST

IN 1903, when accepting the position of honorary
electrician to the International Exposition held in
St. Louis in 1904, to commemorate the centenary of
the Louisiana Purchase, Mr. Edison spoke in his
letter of the Central West as a "region where as a
young telegraph operator I spent many arduous years
before moving East." The term of probation thus
referred to did not end until 1868, and while it lasted
Edison's wanderings carried him from Detroit to New
Orleans, and took him, among other cities, to Indianapolis,
Cincinnati, Louisville, and Memphis, some of
which he visited twice in his peregrinations to secure
work. From Canada, after the episodes noted in the
last chapter, he went to Adrian, Michigan, and of
what happened there Edison tells a story typical of
his wanderings for several years to come. "After
leaving my first job at Stratford Junction, I got a
position as operator on the Lake Shore & Michigan
Southern at Adrian, Michigan, in the division superintendent's
office. As usual, I took the `night trick,'
which most operators disliked, but which I preferred,
as it gave me more leisure to experiment. I had obtained
from the station agent a small room, and had
established a little shop of my own. One day the day
operator wanted to get off, and I was on duty. About
9 o'clock the superintendent handed me a despatch
which he said was very important, and which I must
get off at once. The wire at the time was very busy,
and I asked if I should break in. I got orders to do
so, and acting under those orders of the superintendent,
I broke in and tried to send the despatch; but
the other operator would not permit it, and the struggle
continued for ten minutes. Finally I got possession
of the wire and sent the message. The superintendent
of telegraph, who then lived in Adrian and
went to his office in Toledo every day, happened that
day to be in the Western Union office up-town--and
it was the superintendent I was really struggling
with! In about twenty minutes he arrived livid with
rage, and I was discharged on the spot. I informed
him that the general superintendent had told me to
break in and send the despatch, but the general
superintendent then and there repudiated the whole
thing. Their families were socially close, so I was
sacrificed. My faith in human nature got a slight
jar."

Edison then went to Toledo and secured a position
at Fort Wayne, on the Pittsburg, Fort Wayne &
Chicago Railroad, now leased to the Pennsylvania
system. This was a "day job," and he did not like
it. He drifted two months later to Indianapolis,
arriving there in the fall of 1864, when he was at first
assigned to duty at the Union Station at a salary
of $75 a month for the Western Union Telegraph
Company, whose service he now entered, and with
which he has been destined to maintain highly im-
portent and close relationships throughout a large
part of his life. Superintendent Wallick appears to
have treated him generously and to have loaned him
instruments, a kindness that was greatly appreciated,
for twenty years later the inventor called on his old
employer, and together they visited the scene where
the borrowed apparatus had been mounted on a
rough board in the depot. Edison did not stay long
in Indianapolis, however, resigning in February, 1865,
and proceeding to Cincinnati. The transfer was possibly
due to trouble caused by one of his early inventions
embodying what has been characterized by
an expert as "probably the most simple and ingenious
arrangement of connections for a repeater."
His ambition was to take "press report," but finding,
even after considerable practice, that he "broke"
frequently, he adjusted two embossing Morse registers
--one to receive the press matter, and the other to repeat
the dots and dashes at a lower speed, so that the
message could be copied leisurely. Hence he could
not be rushed or "broken" in receiving, while he
could turn out "copy" that was a marvel of neatness
and clearness. All was well so long as ordinary conditions
prevailed, but when an unusual pressure occurred
the little system fell behind, and the newspapers complained
of the slowness with which reports were delivered
to them. It is easy to understand that with
matter received at a rate of forty words per minute
and worked off at twenty-five words per minute a
serious congestion or delay would result, and the
newspapers were more anxious for the news than they
were for fine penmanship.

Of this device Mr. Edison remarks: "Together we
took press for several nights, my companion keeping
the apparatus in adjustment and I copying. The
regular press operator would go to the theatre or
take a nap, only finishing the report after 1 A.M. One
of the newspapers complained of bad copy toward
the end of the report--that, is from 1 to 3 A.M., and
requested that the operator taking the report up to
1 A.M.--which was ourselves--take it all, as the copy
then was perfectly unobjectionable. This led to an
investigation by the manager, and the scheme was
forbidden.

"This instrument, many years afterward, was applied
by me for transferring messages from one wire to
any other wire simultaneously, or after any interval
of time. It consisted of a disk of paper, the indentations
being formed in a volute spiral, exactly as in
the disk phonograph to-day. It was this instrument
which gave me the idea of the phonograph while working
on the telephone."

Arrived in Cincinnati, where he got employment in
the Western Union commercial telegraph department
at a wage of $60 per month, Edison made the
acquaintance of Milton F. Adams, already referred to
as facile princeps the typical telegrapher in all his
more sociable and brilliant aspects. Speaking of that
time, Mr. Adams says: "I can well recall when Edison
drifted in to take a job. He was a youth of about
eighteen years, decidedly unprepossessing in dress and
rather uncouth in manner. I was twenty-one, and
very dudish. He was quite thin in those days, and
his nose was very prominent, giving a Napoleonic
look to his face, although the curious resemblance did
not strike me at the time. The boys did not take to
him cheerfully, and he was lonesome. I sympathized
with him, and we became close companions. As an
operator he had no superiors and very few equals.
Most of the time he was monkeying with the batteries
and circuits, and devising things to make the work of
telegraphy less irksome. He also relieved the monotony
of office-work by fitting up the battery circuits
to play jokes on his fellow-operators, and to deal with
the vermin that infested the premises. He arranged
in the cellar what he called his `rat paralyzer,' a very
simple contrivance consisting of two plates insulated
from each other and connected with the main battery.
They were so placed that when a rat passed over
them the fore feet on the one plate and the hind feet
on the other completed the circuit and the rat departed
this life, electrocuted."

Shortly after Edison's arrival at Cincinnati came
the close of the Civil War and the assassination of
President Lincoln. It was natural that telegraphers
should take an intense interest in the general struggle,
for not only did they handle all the news relating to
it, but many of them were at one time or another personal
participants. For example, one of the operators
in the Cincinnati office was George Ellsworth,
who was telegrapher for Morgan, the famous Southern
Guerrilla, and was with him when he made his raid
into Ohio and was captured near the Pennsylvania
line. Ellsworth himself made a narrow escape by
swimming the Ohio River with the aid of an army
mule. Yet we can well appreciate the unimpression-
able way in which some of the men did their work,
from an anecdote that Mr. Edison tells of that awful
night of Friday, April 14, 1865: "I noticed," he says,
"an immense crowd gathering in the street outside
a newspaper office. I called the attention of the
other operators to the crowd, and we sent a messenger
boy to find the cause of the excitement. He returned
in a few minutes and shouted `Lincoln's shot.' Instinctively
the operators looked from one face to another
to see which man had received the news. All
the faces were blank, and every man said he had not
taken a word about the shooting. `Look over your
files,' said the boss to the man handling the press
stuff. For a few moments we waited in suspense,
and then the man held up a sheet of paper containing
a short account of the shooting of the President. The
operator had worked so mechanically that he had
handled the news without the slightest knowledge of
its significance." Mr. Adams says that at the time
the city was en fete on account of the close of the
war, the name of the assassin was received by telegraph,
and it was noted with a thrill of horror that it
was that of a brother of Edwin Booth and of Junius
Brutus Booth--the latter of whom was then playing
at the old National Theatre. Booth was hurried
away into seclusion, and the next morning the city
that had been so gay over night with bunting was
draped with mourning.

Edison's diversions in Cincinnati were chiefly those
already observed. He read a great deal, but spent
most of his leisure in experiment. Mr. Adams remarks:
"Edison and I were very fond of tragedy.
Forrest and John McCullough were playing at the
National Theatre, and when our capital was sufficient
we would go to see those eminent tragedians alternate
in Othello and Iago. Edison always enjoyed Othello
greatly. Aside from an occasional visit to the Loewen
Garden `over the Rhine,' with a glass of beer and
a few pretzels, consumed while listening to the excellent
music of a German band, the theatre was the
sum and substance of our innocent dissipation."

The Cincinnati office, as a central point, appears to
have been attractive to many of the clever young
operators who graduated from it to positions of larger
responsibility. Some of them were conspicuous for
their skill and versatility. Mr. Adams tells this interesting
story as an illustration: "L. C. Weir, or Charlie,
as he was known, at that time agent for the Adams
Express Company, had the remarkable ability of taking
messages and copying them twenty-five words
behind the sender. One day he came into the operating-
room, and passing a table he heard Louisville
calling Cincinnati. He reached over to the key and
answered the call. My attention was arrested by the
fact that he walked off after responding, and the
sender happened to be a good one. Weir coolly asked
for a pen, and when he sat down the sender was just
one message ahead of him with date, address, and
signature. Charlie started in, and in a beautiful,
large, round hand copied that message. The sender
went right along, and when he finished with six messages
closed his key. When Weir had done with the
last one the sender began to think that after all there
had been no receiver, as Weir did not `break,' but
simply gave his O. K. He afterward became president
of the Adams Express, and was certainly a wonderful
operator." The operating-room referred to
was on the fifth floor of the building with no elevators.

Those were the early days of trade unionism in
telegraphy, and the movement will probably never
quite die out in the craft which has always shown so
much solidarity. While Edison was in Cincinnati a
delegation of five union operators went over from
Cleveland to form a local branch, and the occasion
was one of great conviviality. Night came, but the
unionists were conspicuous by their absence, although
more circuits than one were intolerant of delay and
clamorous for attention---eight local unionists being
away. The Cleveland report wire was in special
need, and Edison, almost alone in the office, devoted
himself to it all through the night and until 3 o'clock
the next morning, when he was relieved.

He had previously been getting $80 a month, and
had eked this out by copying plays for the theatre.
His rating was that of a "plug" or inferior operator;
but he was determined to lift himself into the class of
first-class operators, and had kept up the practice of
going to the office at night to "copy press," acting
willingly as a substitute for any operator who wanted
to get off for a few hours--which often meant all
night. Speaking of this special ordeal, for which he
had thus been unconsciously preparing, Edison says:
"My copy looked fine if viewed as a whole, as I could
write a perfectly straight line across the wide sheet,
which was not ruled. There were no flourishes, but
the individual letters would not bear close inspection.
When I missed understanding a word, there was no
time to think what it was, so I made an illegible one
to fill in, trusting to the printers to sense it. I knew
they could read anything, although Mr. Bloss, an
editor of the Inquirer, made such bad copy that one
of his editorials was pasted up on the notice-board in
the telegraph office with an offer of one dollar to any
man who could `read twenty consecutive words.' Nobody
ever did it. When I got through I was too
nervous to go home, so waited the rest of the night
for the day manager, Mr. Stevens, to see what was to
be the outcome of this Union formation and of my
efforts. He was an austere man, and I was afraid
of him. I got the morning papers, which came out
at 4 A. M., and the press report read perfectly, which
surprised me greatly. I went to work on my regular
day wire to Portsmouth, Ohio, and there was
considerable excitement, but nothing was said to me,
neither did Mr. Stevens examine the copy on the
office hook, which I was watching with great interest.
However, about 3 P. M. he went to the hook, grabbed
the bunch and looked at it as a whole without examining
it in detail, for which I was thankful. Then he
jabbed it back on the hook, and I knew I was all
right. He walked over to me, and said: `Young
man, I want you to work the Louisville wire nights;
your salary will be $125.' Thus I got from the plug
classification to that of a `first-class man.' "

But no sooner was this promotion secured than he
started again on his wanderings southward, while his
friend Adams went North, neither having any difficulty
in making the trip. "The boys in those days
had extraordinary facilities for travel. As a usual
thing it was only necessary for them to board a train
and tell the conductor they were operators. Then
they would go as far as they liked. The number of
operators was small, and they were in demand
everywhere." It was in this way Edison made his way
south as far as Memphis, Tennessee, where the telegraph
service at that time was under military law,
although the operators received $125 a month. Here
again Edison began to invent and improve on existing
apparatus, with the result of having once more
to "move on." The story may be told in his own
terse language: "I was not the inventor of the auto
repeater, but while in Memphis I worked on one.
Learning that the chief operator, who was a protege
of the superintendent, was trying in some way to put
New York and New Orleans together for the first
time since the close of the war, I redoubled my efforts,
and at 2 o'clock one morning I had them speaking
to each other. The office of the Memphis Avalanche
was in the same building. The paper got wind of it
and sent messages. A column came out in the morning
about it; but when I went to the office in the
afternoon to report for duty I was discharged with
out explanation. The superintendent would not even
give me a pass to Nashville, so I had to pay my fare.
I had so little money left that I nearly starved at
Decatur, Alabama, and had to stay three days before
going on north to Nashville. Arrived in that city, I
went to the telegraph office, got money enough to
buy a little solid food, and secured a pass to Louisville.
I had a companion with me who was also out
of a job. I arrived at Louisville on a bitterly cold
day, with ice in the gutters. I was wearing a linen
duster and was not much to look at, but got a position
at once, working on a press wire. My travelling
companion was less successful on account of his
`record.' They had a limit even in those days when
the telegraph service was so demoralized."

Some reminiscences of Mr. Edison are of interest
as bearing not only upon the "demoralized" telegraph
service, but the conditions from which the
New South had to emerge while working out its
salvation. "The telegraph was still under military
control, not having been turned over to the original
owners, the Southern Telegraph Company. In addition
to the regular force, there was an extra force
of two or three operators, and some stranded ones,
who were a burden to us, for board was high. One of
these derelicts was a great source of worry to me,
personally. He would come in at all hours and either
throw ink around or make a lot of noise. One night
he built a fire in the grate and started to throw pistol
cartridges into the flames. These would explode, and
I was twice hit by the bullets, which left a black-and-
blue mark. Another night he came in and got from
some part of the building a lot of stationery with
`Confederate States' printed at the head. He was
a fine operator, and wrote a beautiful hand. He
would take a sheet of this paper, write capital `A,
and then take another sheet and make the `A' differently;
and so on through the alphabet; each time
crumpling the paper up in his hand and throwing
it on the floor. He would keep this up until the room
was filled nearly flush with the table. Then he would
quit.

"Everything at that time was `wide open.'
Disorganization reigned supreme. There was no head
to anything. At night myself and a companion would
go over to a gorgeously furnished faro-bank and get
our midnight lunch. Everything was free. There
were over twenty keno-rooms running. One of them
that I visited was in a Baptist church, the man with
the wheel being in the pulpit, and the gamblers in
the pews.

"While there the manager of the telegraph office
was arrested for something I never understood, and
incarcerated in a military prison about half a mile
from the office. The building was in plain sight from
the office, and four stories high. He was kept strictly
incommunicado. One day, thinking he might be confined
in a room facing the office, I put my arm out
of the window and kept signalling dots and dashes
by the movement of the arm. I tried this several
times for two days. Finally he noticed it, and putting
his arm through the bars of the window he established
communication with me. He thus sent several messages
to his friends, and was afterward set free."

Another curious story told by Edison concerns a
fellow-operator on night duty at Chattanooga Junction,
at the time he was at Memphis: "When it was
reported that Hood was marching on Nashville, one
night a Jew came into the office about 11 o'clock in
great excitement, having heard the Hood rumor. He,
being a large sutler, wanted to send a message to save
his goods. The operator said it was impossible--that
orders had been given to send no private messages.
Then the Jew wanted to bribe my friend, who steadfastly
refused for the reason, as he told the Jew, that
he might be court-martialled and shot. Finally the
Jew got up to $800. The operator swore him to
secrecy and sent the message. Now there was no
such order about private messages, and the Jew, finding
it out, complained to Captain Van Duzer, chief of
telegraphs, who investigated the matter, and while he
would not discharge the operator, laid him off
indefinitely. Van Duzer was so lenient that if an
operator were discharged, all the operator had to do
was to wait three days and then go and sit on the
stoop of Van Duzer's office all day, and he would be
taken back. But Van Duzer swore he would never
give in in this case. He said that if the operator had
taken $800 and sent the message at the regular rate,
which was twenty-five cents, it would have been all
right, as the Jew would be punished for trying to
bribe a military operator; but when the operator took
the $800 and then sent the message deadhead, he
couldn't stand it, and he would never relent."

A third typical story of this period deals with a
cipher message for Thomas. Mr. Edison narrates it
as follows: "When I was an operator in Cincinnati
working the Louisville wire nights for a time, one
night a man over on the Pittsburg wire yelled out:
`D. I. cipher,' which meant that there was a cipher
message from the War Department at Washington
and that it was coming--and he yelled out `Louisville.'
I started immediately to call up that place.
It was just at the change of shift in the office. I
could not get Louisville, and the cipher message began
to come. It was taken by the operator on the other
table direct from the War Department. It was for
General Thomas, at Nashville. I called for about
twenty minutes and notified them that I could not
get Louisville. I kept at it for about fifteen minutes
longer, and notified them that there was still no
answer from Louisville. They then notified the War
Department that they could not get Louisville. Then
we tried to get it by all kinds of roundabout ways,
but in no case could anybody get them at that office.
Soon a message came from the War Department to
send immediately for the manager of the Cincinnati
office. He was brought to the office and several
messages were exchanged, the contents of which, of course,
I did not know, but the matter appeared to be very
serious, as they were afraid of General Hood, of the
Confederate Army, who was then attempting to march
on Nashville; and it was very important that this
cipher of about twelve hundred words or so should
be got through immediately to General Thomas. I
kept on calling up to 12 or 1 o'clock, but no Louisville.
About 1 o'clock the operator at the Indianapolis
office got hold of an operator on a wire which ran
from Indianapolis to Louisville along the railroad,
who happened to come into his office. He arranged
with this operator to get a relay of horses, and the
message was sent through Indianapolis to this operator
who had engaged horses to carry the despatches to
Louisville and find out the trouble, and get the
despatches through without delay to General Thomas.
In those days the telegraph fraternity was rather
demoralized, and the discipline was very lax. It was
found out a couple of days afterward that there were
three night operators at Louisville. One of them had
gone over to Jeffersonville and had fallen off a horse
and broken his leg, and was in a hospital. By a
remarkable coincidence another of the men had been
stabbed in a keno-room, and was also in hospital
while the third operator had gone to Cynthiana to
see a man hanged and had got left by the train."

I think the most important line of
investigation is the production of
Electricity direct from carbon.
                      Edison



Young Edison remained in Louisville for about
two years, quite a long stay for one with such nomadic
instincts. It was there that he perfected the peculiar
vertical style of writing which, beginning with him in
telegraphy, later became so much of a fad with teachers
of penmanship and in the schools. He says of this form
of writing, a current example of which is given above:
"I developed this style in Louisville while taking press
reports. My wire was connected to the `blind' side
of a repeater at Cincinnati, so that if I missed a word
or sentence, or if the wire worked badly, I could not
break in and get the last words, because the Cincinnati
man had no instrument by which he could
hear me. I had to take what came. When I got the
job, the cable across the Ohio River at Covington,
connecting with the line to Louisville, had a variable
leak in it, which caused the strength of the signalling
current to make violent fluctuations. I obviated this
by using several relays, each with a different adjustment,
working several sounders all connected with
one sounding-plate. The clatter was bad, but I could
read it with fair ease. When, in addition to this infernal
leak, the wires north to Cleveland worked badly,
it required a large amount of imagination to get
the sense of what was being sent. An imagination
requires an appreciable time for its exercise, and as
the stuff was coming at the rate of thirty-five to forty
words a minute, it was very difficult to write down
what was coming and imagine what wasn't coming.
Hence it was necessary to become a very rapid writer,
so I started to find the fastest style. I found that the
vertical style, with each letter separate and without
any flourishes, was the most rapid, and that the
smaller the letter the greater the rapidity. As I took
on an average from eight to fifteen columns of news
report every day, it did not take long to perfect this
method." Mr. Edison has adhered to this characteristic
style of penmanship down to the present
time.

As a matter of fact, the conditions at Louisville
at that time were not much better than they had been
at Memphis. The telegraph operating-room was in
a deplorable condition. It was on the second story
of a dilapidated building on the principal street of
the city, with the battery-room in the rear; behind
which was the office of the agent of the Associated
Press. The plastering was about one-third gone from
the ceiling. A small stove, used occasionally in the
winter, was connected to the chimney by a tortuous
pipe. The office was never cleaned. The switchboard
for manipulating the wires was about thirty-
four inches square. The brass connections on it were
black with age and with the arcing effects of lightning,
which, to young Edison, seemed particularly partial
to Louisville. "It would strike on the wires," he
says, "with an explosion like a cannon-shot, making
that office no place for an operator with heart-disease."
Around the dingy walls were a dozen tables, the ends
next to the wall. They were about the size of those
seen in old-fashioned country hotels for holding
the wash-bowl and pitcher. The copper wires
connecting the instruments to the switchboard were
small, crystallized, and rotten. The battery-room
was filled with old record-books and message bundles,
and one hundred cells of nitric-acid battery, arranged
on a stand in the centre of the room. This stand, as
well as the floor, was almost eaten through by the
destructive action of the powerful acid. Grim and
uncompromising as the description reads, it was
typical of the equipment in those remote days of
the telegraph at the close of the war.

Illustrative of the length to which telegraphers
could go at a time when they were so much in de-
mand, Edison tells the following story: "When I took
the position there was a great shortage of operators.
One night at 2 A.M. another operator and I were on
duty. I was taking press report, and the other man
was working the New York wire. We heard a heavy
tramp, tramp, tramp on the rickety stairs. Suddenly
the door was thrown open with great violence,
dislodging it from one of the hinges. There appeared in
the doorway one of the best operators we had, who
worked daytime, and who was of a very quiet
disposition except when intoxicated. He was a great
friend of the manager of the office. His eyes were
bloodshot and wild, and one sleeve had been torn
away from his coat. Without noticing either of us
he went up to the stove and kicked it over. The
stove-pipe fell, dislocated at every joint. It was half
full of exceedingly fine soot, which floated out and
filled the room completely. This produced a
momentary respite to his labors. When the atmosphere
had cleared sufficiently to see, he went around
and pulled every table away from the wall, piling
them on top of the stove in the middle of the room.
Then he proceeded to pull the switchboard away from
the wall. It was held tightly by screws. He succeeded,
finally, and when it gave way he fell with
the board, and striking on a table cut himself so that
he soon became covered with blood. He then went
to the battery-room and knocked all the batteries off
on the floor. The nitric acid soon began to combine
with the plaster in the room below, which was the
public receiving-room for messengers and bookkeepers.
The excess acid poured through and ate up
the account-books. After having finished everything
to his satisfaction, he left. I told the other operator
to do nothing. We would leave things just as they
were, and wait until the manager came. In the
mean time, as I knew all the wires coming through to
the switchboard, I rigged up a temporary set of
instruments so that the New York business could be cleared
up, and we also got the remainder of the press matter.
At 7 o'clock the day men began to appear. They
were told to go down-stairs and wait the coming of
the manager. At 8 o'clock he appeared, walked
around, went into the battery-room, and then came
to me, saying: `Edison, who did this?' I told him
that Billy L. had come in full of soda-water and
invented the ruin before him. He walked backward
and forward, about a minute, then coming up to my
table put his fist down, and said: `If Billy L. ever
does that again, I will discharge him.' It was needless
to say that there were other operators who took
advantage of that kind of discipline, and I had many
calls at night after that, but none with such destructive
effects."

This was one aspect of life as it presented itself to
the sensitive and observant young operator in Louisville.
But there was another, more intellectual side,
in the contact afforded with journalism and its leaders,
and the information taken in almost unconsciously
as to the political and social movements of the time.
Mr. Edison looks back on this with great satisfaction.
"I remember," he says, "the discussions between the
celebrated poet and journalist George D. Prentice,
then editor of the Courier-Journal, and Mr. Tyler, of
the Associated Press. I believe Prentice was the
father of the humorous paragraph of the American
newspaper. He was poetic, highly educated, and a
brilliant talker. He was very thin and small. I do
not think he weighed over one hundred and twenty
five pounds. Tyler was a graduate of Harvard, and
had a very clear enunciation, and, in sharp contrast
to Prentice, he was a large man. After the paper had
gone to press, Prentice would generally come over to
Tyler's office and start talking. Having while in
Tyler's office heard them arguing on the immortality
of the soul, etc., I asked permission of Mr. Tyler if,
after finishing the press matter, I might come in and
listen to the conversation, which I did many times
after. One thing I never could comprehend was that
Tyler had a sideboard with liquors and generally
crackers. Prentice would pour out half a glass of
what they call corn whiskey, and would dip the
crackers in it and eat them. Tyler took it sans food.
One teaspoonful of that stuff would put me to sleep."

Mr. Edison throws also a curious side-light on the
origin of the comic column in the modern American
newspaper, the telegraph giving to a new joke or a
good story the ubiquity and instantaneity of an important
historical event. "It was the practice of the
press operators all over the country at that time, when
a lull occurred, to start in and send jokes or stories
the day men had collected; and these were copied
and pasted up on the bulletin-board. Cleveland was
the originating office for `press,' which it received
from New York, and sent it out simultaneously to
Milwaukee, Chicago, Toledo, Detroit, Pittsburg,
Columbus, Dayton, Cincinnati, Indianapolis, Vincennes,
Terre Haute, St. Louis, and Louisville.
Cleveland would call first on Milwaukee, if he had
anything. If so, he would send it, and Cleveland
would repeat it to all of us. Thus any joke or story
originating anywhere in that area was known the
next day all over. The press men would come in
and copy anything which could be published, which
was about three per cent. I collected, too, quite a
large scrap-book of it, but unfortunately have lost it."

Edison tells an amusing story of his own pursuits
at this time. Always an omnivorous reader, he had
some difficulty in getting a sufficient quantity of
literature for home consumption, and was in the habit
of buying books at auctions and second-hand stores.
One day at an auction-room he secured a stack of
twenty unbound volumes of the North American
Review for two dollars. These he had bound and delivered
at the telegraph office. One morning, when
he was free as usual at 3 o'clock, he started off at a
rapid pace with ten volumes on his shoulder. He
found himself very soon the subject of a fusillade.
When he stopped, a breathless policeman grabbed him
by the throat and ordered him to drop his parcel and
explain matters, as a suspicious character. He opened
the package showing the books, somewhat to the
disgust of the officer, who imagined he had caught a
burglar sneaking away in the dark alley with his
booty. Edison explained that being deaf he had
heard no challenge, and therefore had kept moving;
and the policeman remarked apologetically that it
was fortunate for Edison he was not a better shot.

The incident is curiously revelatory of the character
of the man, for it must be admitted that while literary
telegraphers are by no means scarce, there are very
few who would spend scant savings on back numbers
of a ponderous review at an age when tragedy, beer,
and pretzels are far more enticing. Through all his
travels Edison has preserved those books, and has
them now in his library at Llewellyn Park, on Orange
Mountain, New Jersey.

Drifting after a time from Louisville, Edison made
his way as far north as Detroit, but, like the famous
Duke of York, soon made his way back again. Possibly
the severer discipline after the happy-go-lucky
regime in the Southern city had something to do with
this restlessness, which again manifested itself, however,
on his return thither. The end of the war had
left the South a scene of destruction and desolation,
and many men who had fought bravely and well
found it hard to reconcile themselves to the grim
task of reconstruction. To them it seemed better to
"let ill alone" and seek some other clime where
conditions would be less onerous. At this moment a
great deal of exaggerated talk was current as to the
sunny life and easy wealth of Latin America, and
under its influences many "unreconstructed" Southerners
made their way to Mexico, Brazil, Peru, or the
Argentine. Telegraph operators were naturally in
touch with this movement, and Edison's fertile imagination
was readily inflamed by the glowing idea of
all these vague possibilities. Again he threw up his
steady work and, with a couple of sanguine young
friends, made his way to New Orleans. They had the
notion of taking positions in the Brazilian Government
telegraphs, as an advertisement had been inserted
in some paper stating that operators were
wanted. They had timed their departure from Louisville
so as to catch a specially chartered steamer,
which was to leave New Orleans for Brazil on a
certain day, to convey a large number of Confederates
and their families, who were disgusted with the
United States and were going to settle in Brazil,
where slavery still prevailed. Edison and his friends
arrived in New Orleans just at the time of the great
riot, when several hundred negroes were killed, and
the city was in the hands of a mob. The Government
had seized the steamer chartered for Brazil, in order
to bring troops from the Yazoo River to New Orleans
to stop the rioting. The young operators therefore
visited another shipping-office to make inquiries as
to vessels for Brazil, and encountered an old Spaniard
who sat in a chair near the steamer agent's desk, and
to whom they explained their intentions. He had
lived and worked in South America, and was very
emphatic in his assertion, as he shook his yellow, bony
finger at them, that the worst mistake they could
possibly make would be to leave the United States.
He would not leave on any account, and they as
young Americans would always regret it if they forsook
their native land, whose freedom, climate, and
opportunities could not be equalled anywhere on the
face of the globe. Such sincere advice as this could
not be disdained, and Edison made his way North
again. One cannot resist speculation as to what might
have happened to Edison himself and to the develop-
ment of electricity had he made this proposed plunge
into the enervating tropics. It will be remembered
that at a somewhat similar crisis in life young Robert
Burns entertained seriously the idea of forsaking
Scotland for the West Indies. That he did not go
was certainly better for Scottish verse, to which he
contributed later so many immortal lines; and it was
probably better for himself, even if he died a gauger.
It is simply impossible to imagine Edison working
out the phonograph, telephone, and incandescent
lamp under the tropical climes he sought. Some years
later he was informed that both his companions had
gone to Vera Cruz, Mexico, and had died there of
yellow fever.

Work was soon resumed at Louisville, where the
dilapidated old office occupied at the close of the war
had been exchanged for one much more comfortable
and luxurious in its equipment. As before, Edison
was allotted to press report, and remembers very
distinctly taking the Presidential message and veto of
the District of Columbia bill by President Johnson.
As the matter was received over the wire he paragraphed
it so that each printer had exactly three
lines, thus enabling the matter to be set up very
expeditiously in the newspaper offices. This earned
him the gratitude of the editors, a dinner, and all the
newspaper "exchanges" he wanted. Edison's accounts
of the sprees and debauches of other night
operators in the loosely managed offices enable one to
understand how even a little steady application to
the work in hand would be appreciated. On one
occasion Edison acted as treasurer for his bibulous
companions, holding the stakes, so to speak, in order
that the supply of liquor might last longer. One of
the mildest mannered of the party took umbrage at
the parsimony of the treasurer and knocked him
down, whereupon the others in the party set upon
the assailant and mauled him so badly that he had
to spend three weeks in hospital. At another time
two of his companions sharing the temporary
hospitality of his room smashed most of the furniture,
and went to bed with their boots on. Then his kindly
good-nature rebelled. "I felt that this was running
hospitality into the ground, so I pulled them out and left
them on the floor to cool off from their alcoholic trance."

Edison seems on the whole to have been fairly
comfortable and happy in Louisville, surrounding himself
with books and experimental apparatus, and even
inditing a treatise on electricity. But his very thirst
for knowledge and new facts again proved his undoing.
The instruments in the handsome new offices
were fastened in their proper places, and operators
were strictly forbidden to remove them, or to use the
batteries except on regular work. This prohibition
meant little to Edison, who had access to no other
instruments except those of the company. "I went
one night," he says, "into the battery-room to obtain
some sulphuric acid for experimenting. The carboy
tipped over, the acid ran out, went through to the
manager's room below, and ate up his desk and all the
carpet. The next morning I was summoned before
him, and told that what the company wanted was
operators, not experimenters. I was at liberty to
take my pay and get out."

The fact that Edison is a very studious man, an
insatiate lover and reader of books, is well known to
his associates; but surprise is often expressed at his
fund of miscellaneous information. This, it will be
seen, is partly explained by his work for years as a
"press" reporter. He says of this: "The second
time I was in Louisville, they had moved into a new
office, and the discipline was now good. I took the
press job. In fact, I was a very poor sender, and
therefore made the taking of press report a specialty.
The newspaper men allowed me to come over after
going to press at 3 A.M. and get all the exchanges I
wanted. These I would take home and lay at the
foot of my bed. I never slept more than four or five
hours' so that I would awake at nine or ten and read
these papers until dinner-time. I thus kept posted,
and knew from their activity every member of Congress,
and what committees they were on; and all
about the topical doings, as well as the prices of
breadstuffs in all the primary markets. I was in a
much better position than most operators to call on
my imagination to supply missing words or sentences,
which were frequent in those days of old, rotten
wires, badly insulated, especially on stormy nights.
Upon such occasions I had to supply in some cases
one-fifth of the whole matter--pure guessing--but I
got caught only once. There had been some kind of
convention in Virginia, in which John Minor Botts
was the leading figure. There was great excitement
about it, and two votes had been taken in the
convention on the two days. There was no doubt that
the vote the next day would go a certain way. A
very bad storm came up about 10 o'clock, and my
wire worked very badly. Then there was a cessation
of all signals; then I made out the words `Minor
Botts.' The next was a New York item. I filled in
a paragraph about the convention and how the vote
had gone, as I was sure it would. But next day I
learned that instead of there being a vote the
convention had adjourned without action until the day
after." In like manner, it was at Louisville that Mr.
Edison got an insight into the manner in which great
political speeches are more frequently reported than
the public suspects. "The Associated Press had a
shorthand man travelling with President Johnson
when he made his celebrated swing around the circle
in a private train delivering hot speeches in defence
of his conduct. The man engaged me to write out
the notes from his reading. He came in loaded and
on the verge of incoherence. We started in, but about
every two minutes I would have to scratch out whole
paragraphs and insert the same things said in another
and better way. He would frequently change words,
always to the betterment of the speech. I couldn't
understand this, and when he got through, and I had
copied about three columns, I asked him why those
changes, if he read from notes. `Sonny,' he said,
`if these politicians had their speeches published as
they deliver them, a great many shorthand writers
would be out of a job. The best shorthanders and
the holders of good positions are those who can take
a lot of rambling, incoherent stuff and make a rattling
good speech out of it.' "

Going back to Cincinnati and beginning his second
term there as an operator, Edison found the office
in new quarters and with greatly improved management.
He was again put on night duty, much to his
satisfaction. He rented a room in the top floor of an
office building, bought a cot and an oil-stove, a foot
lathe, and some tools. He cultivated the acquaintance
of Mr. Sommers, superintendent of telegraph of
the Cincinnati & Indianapolis Railroad, who gave
him permission to take such scrap apparatus as he
might desire, that was of no use to the company.
With Sommers on one occasion he had an opportunity
to indulge his always strong sense of humor. "Sommers
was a very witty man," he says, "and fond of
experimenting. We worked on a self-adjusting telegraph
relay, which would have been very valuable if
we could have got it. I soon became the possessor
of a second-hand Ruhmkorff induction coil, which,
although it would only give a small spark, would
twist the arms and clutch the hands of a man so that
he could not let go of the apparatus. One day we
went down to the round-house of the Cincinnati &
Indianapolis Railroad and connected up the long wash-
tank in the room with the coil, one electrode being
connected to earth. Above this wash-room was a
flat roof. We bored a hole through the roof, and
could see the men as they came in. The first man
as he entered dipped his hands in the water. The
floor being wet he formed a circuit, and up went his
hands. He tried it the second time, with the same
result. He then stood against the wall with a
puzzled expression. We surmised that he was waiting
for somebody else to come in, which occurred
shortly after--with the same result. Then they went
out, and the place was soon crowded, and there was
considerable excitement. Various theories were
broached to explain the curious phenomenon. We
enjoyed the sport immensely." It must be remembered
that this was over forty years ago, when there
was no popular instruction in electricity, and when
its possibilities for practical joking were known to
very few. To-day such a crowd of working-men
would be sure to include at least one student of a
night school or correspondence course who would
explain the mystery offhand.

Note has been made of the presence of Ellsworth
in the Cincinnati office, and his service with the
Confederate guerrilla Morgan, for whom he tapped
Federal wires, read military messages, sent false ones,
and did serious mischief generally. It is well known
that one operator can recognize another by the way
in which he makes his signals--it is his style of
handwriting. Ellsworth possessed in a remarkable degree
the skill of imitating these peculiarities, and thus he
deceived the Union operators easily. Edison says
that while apparently a quiet man in bearing, Ellsworth,
after the excitement of fighting, found the
tameness of a telegraph office obnoxious, and that he
became a bad "gun man" in the Panhandle of Texas,
where he was killed. "We soon became acquainted,"
says Edison of this period in Cincinnati, "and he
wanted me to invent a secret method of sending
despatches so that an intermediate operator could not
tap the wire and understand it. He said that if it
could be accomplished, he could sell it to the Govern-
ment for a large sum of money. This suited me, and
I started in and succeeded in making such an
instrument, which had in it the germ of my quadruplex
now used throughout the world, permitting the despatch
of four messages over one wire simultaneously.
By the time I had succeeded in getting the apparatus
to work, Ellsworth suddenly disappeared. Many
years afterward I used this little device again for the
same purpose. At Menlo Park, New Jersey, I had
my laboratory. There were several Western Union
wires cut into the laboratory, and used by me in
experimenting at night. One day I sat near an instrument
which I had left connected during the night.
I soon found it was a private wire between New York
and Philadelphia, and I heard among a lot of stuff
a message that surprised me. A week after that I
had occasion to go to New York, and, visiting the
office of the lessee of the wire, I asked him if he hadn't
sent such and such a message. The expression that
came over his face was a sight. He asked me how I
knew of any message. I told him the circumstances,
and suggested that he had better cipher such
communications, or put on a secret sounder. The result
of the interview was that I installed for him my old
Cincinnati apparatus, which was used thereafter for
many years."

Edison did not make a very long stay in Cincinnati
this time, but went home after a while to Port Huron.
Soon tiring of idleness and isolation he sent "a cry
from Macedonia" to his old friend "Milt" Adams,
who was in Boston, and whom he wished to rejoin if
he could get work promptly in the East.

Edison himself gives the details of this eventful
move, when he went East to grow up with the new
art of electricity. "I had left Louisville the second
time, and went home to see my parents. After
stopping at home for some time, I got restless, and
thought I would like to work in the East. Knowing
that a former operator named Adams, who had worked
with me in the Cincinnati office, was in Boston, I wrote
him that I wanted a job there. He wrote back that
if I came on immediately he could get me in the
Western Union office. I had helped out the Grand
Trunk Railroad telegraph people by a new device
when they lost one of the two submarine cables they
had across the river, making the remaining cable
act just as well for their purpose, as if they had two.
I thought I was entitled to a pass, which they
conceded; and I started for Boston. After leaving
Toronto a terrific blizzard came up and the train got
snowed under in a cut. After staying there twenty-
four hours, the trainmen made snowshoes of fence-
rail splints and started out to find food, which they did
about a half mile away. They found a roadside inn,
and by means of snowshoes all the passengers were
taken to the inn. The train reached Montreal four
days late. A number of the passengers and myself
went to the military headquarters to testify in favor of
a soldier who was on furlough, and was two days late,
which was a serious matter with military people, I
learned. We willingly did this, for this soldier was
a great story-teller, and made the time pass quickly.
I met here a telegraph operator named Stanton,
who took me to his boarding-house, the most cheer-
less I have ever been in. Nobody got enough to eat;
the bedclothes were too short and too thin; it was
28 degrees below zero, and the wash-water was frozen
solid. The board was cheap, being only $1.50 per
week.

"Stanton said that the usual live-stock accompaniment
of operators' boarding-houses was absent;
he thought the intense cold had caused them
to hibernate. Stanton, when I was working in Cincinnati,
left his position and went out on the Union
Pacific to work at Julesburg, which was a cattle town
at that time and very tough. I remember seeing him
off on the train, never expecting to see him again.
Six months afterward, while working press wire in
Cincinnati, about 2 A.M., there was flung into the middle
of the operating-room a large tin box. It made
a report like a pistol, and we all jumped up startled.
In walked Stanton. `Gentlemen,' he said `I have
just returned from a pleasure trip to the land beyond
the Mississippi. All my wealth is contained in my
metallic travelling case and you are welcome to it.'
The case contained one paper collar. He sat down,
and I noticed that he had a woollen comforter around
his neck with his coat buttoned closely. The night
was intensely warm. He then opened his coat and
revealed the fact that he had nothing but the bare
skin. `Gentlemen,' said he, `you see before you an
operator who has reached the limit of impecuniosity.' "
Not far from the limit of impecuniosity was Edison
himself, as he landed in Boston in 1868 after this
wintry ordeal.

This chapter has run to undue length, but it must
not close without one citation from high authority
as to the service of the military telegraph corps so
often referred to in it. General Grant in his
Memoirs, describing the movements of the Army of
the Potomac, lays stress on the service of his
telegraph operators, and says: "Nothing could be more
complete than the organization and discipline of this
body of brave and intelligent men.  Insulated wires
were wound upon reels, two men and a mule detailed
to each reel. The pack-saddle was provided with a
rack like a sawbuck, placed crosswise, so that the
wheel would revolve freely; there was a wagon provided
with a telegraph operator, battery, and instruments
for each division corps and army, and for my
headquarters. Wagons were also loaded with light
poles supplied with an iron spike at each end to hold
the wires up. The moment troops were in position
to go into camp, the men would put up their wires.
Thus in a few minutes' longer time than it took a
mule to walk the length of its coil, telegraphic
communication would be effected between all the
headquarters of the army. No orders ever had to be given
to establish the telegraph."



CHAPTER VI

WORK AND INVENTION IN BOSTON

MILTON ADAMS was working in the office of the
Franklin Telegraph Company in Boston when
he received Edison's appeal from Port Huron, and
with characteristic impetuosity at once made it his
business to secure a position for his friend. There
was no opening in the Franklin office, so Adams went
over to the Western Union office, and asked the manager,
Mr. George F. Milliken, if he did not want an
operator who, like young Lochinvar, came out of the
West. "What kind of copy does he make?" was the
cautious response. "I passed Edison's letter through
the window for his inspection. Milliken read it, and
a look of surprise came over his countenance as he
asked me if he could take it off the line like that. I
said he certainly could, and that there was nobody
who could stick him. Milliken said that if he was that
kind of an operator I could send for him, and I wrote
to Edison to come on, as I had a job for him in the
main office of the Western Union." Meantime Edison
had secured his pass over the Grand Trunk Railroad,
and spent four days and nights on the journey, suffering
extremes of cold and hunger. Franklin's arrival
in Philadelphia finds its parallel in the very modest
debut of Adams's friend in Boston.

It took only five minutes for Edison to get the
"job," for Superintendent Milliken, a fine type of
telegraph official, saw quickly through the superficialities,
and realized that it was no ordinary young
operator he was engaging. Edison himself tells the
story of what happened. "The manager asked me
when I was ready to go to work. `Now,' I replied
I was then told to return at 5.30 P.M., and punctually
at that hour I entered the main operating-room and
was introduced to the night manager. The weather
being cold, and being clothed poorly, my peculiar
appearance caused much mirth, and, as I afterward
learned, the night operators had consulted together
how they might `put up a job on the jay from the
woolly West.' I was given a pen and assigned to
the New York No. 1 wire. After waiting an hour,
I was told to come over to a special table and take a
special report for the Boston Herald, the conspirators
having arranged to have one of the fastest senders
in New York send the despatch and `salt' the new
man. I sat down unsuspiciously at the table, and
the New York man started slowly. Soon he increased
his speed, to which I easily adapted my
pace. This put my rival on his mettle, and he put
on his best powers, which, however, were soon reached.
At this point I happened to look up, and saw the
operators all looking over my shoulder, with their
faces shining with fun and excitement. I knew then
that they were trying to put up a job on me, but
kept my own counsel. The New York man then
commenced to slur over his words, running them together
and sticking the signals; but I had been used
to this style of telegraphy in taking report, and was
not in the least discomfited. Finally, when I thought
the fun had gone far enough, and having about completed
the special, I quietly opened the key and remarked,
telegraphically, to my New York friend:
`Say, young man, change off and send with your
other foot.' This broke the New York man all up,
and he turned the job over to another man to finish."

Edison had a distaste for taking press report, due
to the fact that it was steady, continuous work, and
interfered with the studies and investigations that
could be carried on in the intervals of ordinary
commercial telegraphy. He was not lazy in any sense.
While he had no very lively interest in the mere
routine work of a telegraph office, he had the profoundest
curiosity as to the underlying principles of
electricity that made telegraphy possible, and he
had an unflagging desire and belief in his own ability
to improve the apparatus he handled daily. The
whole intellectual atmosphere of Boston was favorable
to the development of the brooding genius in
this shy, awkward, studious youth, utterly indifferent
to clothes and personal appearance, but ready to
spend his last dollar on books and scientific
paraphernalia. It is matter of record that he did once
buy a new suit for thirty dollars in Boston, but the
following Sunday, while experimenting with acids in
his little workshop, the suit was spoiled. "That is
what I get for putting so much money in a new suit,"
was the laconic remark of the youth, who was more
than delighted to pick up a complete set of Faraday's
works about the same time. Adams says that when
Edison brought home these books at 4 A.M. he read
steadily until breakfast-time, and then he remarked,
enthusiastically: "Adams, I have got so much to do
and life is so short, I am going to hustle." And
thereupon he started on a run for breakfast. Edison
himself says: "It was in Boston I bought Faraday's
works. I think I must have tried about everything
in those books. His explanations were simple. He
used no mathematics. He was the Master Experimenter.
I don't think there were many copies of
Faraday's works sold in those days. The only people
who did anything in electricity were the
telegraphers and the opticians making simple school
apparatus to demonstrate the principles." One of
these firms was Palmer & Hall, whose catalogue of
1850 showed a miniature electric locomotive made
by Mr. Thomas Hall, and exhibited in operation the
following year at the Charitable Mechanics' Fair in
Boston. In 1852 Mr. Hall made for a Dr. A. L. Henderson,
of Buffalo, New York, a model line of railroad
with electric-motor engine, telegraph line, and electric
railroad signals, together with a figure operating the
signals at each end of the line automatically. This
was in reality the first example of railroad trains
moved by telegraph signals, a practice now so common
and universal as to attract no comment. To
show how little some fundamental methods can change
in fifty years, it may be noted that Hall conveyed the
current to his tiny car through forty feet of rail,
using the rail as conductor, just as Edison did more
than thirty years later in his historic experiments
for Villard at Menlo Park; and just as a large pro-
portion of American trolley systems do at this present
moment.

It was among such practical, investigating folk as
these that Edison was very much at home. Another
notable man of this stamp, with whom Edison was
thrown in contact, was the late Mr. Charles Williams,
who, beginning his career in the electrical field in
the forties, was at the height of activity as a maker
of apparatus when Edison arrived in the city; and
who afterward, as an associate of Alexander Graham
Bell, enjoyed the distinction of being the first
manufacturer in the world of telephones. At his Court
Street workshop Edison was a frequent visitor. Telegraph
repairs and experiments were going on constantly,
especially on the early fire-alarm telegraphs[1]
of Farmer and Gamewell, and with the aid of one of the
men there--probably George Anders--Edison worked
out into an operative model his first invention, a vote-
recorder, the first Edison patent, for which papers
were executed on October 11, 1868, and which was
taken out June 1, 1869, No. 90,646. The purpose of
this particular device was to permit a vote in the
National House of Representatives to be taken in a
minute or so, complete lists being furnished of all
members voting on the two sides of any question
Mr. Edison, in recalling the circumstances, says:
"Roberts was the telegraph operator who was the
financial backer to the extent of $100. The invention
when completed was taken to Washington. I think it
was exhibited before a committee that had something
to do with the Capitol. The chairman of the committee,
after seeing how quickly and perfectly it
worked, said: `Young man, if there is any invention
on earth that we don't want down here, it is this.
One of the greatest weapons in the hands of a minority
to prevent bad legislation is filibustering on
votes, and this instrument would prevent it.' I saw
the truth of this, because as press operator I had taken
miles of Congressional proceedings, and to this day
an enormous amount of time is wasted during each
session of the House in foolishly calling the members'
names and recording and then adding their
votes, when the whole operation could be done in
almost a moment by merely pressing a particular
button at each desk. For filibustering purposes,
however, the present methods are most admirable."
Edison determined from that time forth to devote
his inventive faculties only to things for which there
was a real, genuine demand, something that subserved
the actual necessities of humanity. This first
patent was taken out for him by the late Hon. Carroll
D. Wright, afterward U. S. Commissioner of Labor,
and a well-known publicist, then practicing patent law
in Boston. He describes Edison as uncouth in manner,
a chewer rather than a smoker of tobacco, but
full of intelligence and ideas.


[1] The general scheme of a fire-alarm telegraph system embodies
a central office to which notice can be sent from any number of
signal boxes of the outbreak of a fire in the district covered by
the box, the central office in turn calling out the nearest fire
engines, and warning the fire department in general of the
occurrence. Such fire alarms can be exchanged automatically, or
by operators, and are sometimes associated with a large fire-alarm
bell or whistle. Some boxes can be operated by the passing public;
others need special keys. The box mechanism is usually of
the ratchet, step-by-step movement, familiar in district messenger
call-boxes.



Edison's curiously practical, though imaginative,
mind demanded realities to work upon, things that
belong to "human nature's daily food," and he soon
harked back to telegraphy, a domain in which he
was destined to succeed, and over which he was to
reign supreme as an inventor. He did not, however,
neglect chemistry, but indulged his tastes in that
direction freely, although we have no record that this
work was anything more, at that time, than the
carrying out of experiments outlined in the books.
The foundations were being laid for the remarkable
chemical knowledge that later on grappled successfully
with so many knotty problems in the realm of
chemistry; notably with the incandescent lamp and
the storage battery. Of one incident in his chemical
experiments he tells the following story: "I had read
in a scientific paper the method of making nitroglycerine,
and was so fired by the wonderful properties
it was said to possess, that I determined to make
some of the compound. We tested what we considered
a very small quantity, but this produced such
terrible and unexpected results that we became
alarmed, the fact dawning upon us that we had a very
large white elephant in our possession. At 6 A.M. I
put the explosive into a sarsaparilla bottle, tied a
string to it, wrapped it in a paper, and gently let it
down into the sewer, corner of State and Washington
Streets." The associate in this was a man whom he
had found endeavoring to make electrical apparatus
for sleight-of-hand performances.

In the Boston telegraph office at that time, as perhaps
at others, there were operators studying to en-
ter college; possibly some were already in attendance
at Harvard University. This condition was not unusual
at one time; the first electrical engineer graduated
from Columbia University, New York, followed
up his studies while a night operator, and came out
brilliantly at the head of his class. Edison says of
these scholars that they paraded their knowledge
rather freely, and that it was his delight to go to the
second-hand book stores on Cornhill and study up
questions which he could spring upon them when he
got an occasion. With those engaged on night duty
he got midnight lunch from an old Irishman called
"the Cake Man," who appeared regularly with his
wares at 12 midnight. "The office was on the
ground floor, and had been a restaurant previous to
its occupation by the Western Union Telegraph
Company. It was literally loaded with cockroaches,
which lived between the wall and the board running
around the room at the floor, and which came after
the lunch. These were such a bother on my table that
I pasted two strips of tinfoil on the wall at my desk,
connecting one piece to the positive pole of the big
battery supplying current to the wires and the negative
pole to the other strip. The cockroaches moving
up on the wall would pass over the strips. The moment
they got their legs across both strips there was
a flash of light and the cockroaches went into gas.
This automatic electrocuting device attracted so much
attention, and got half a column in an evening paper,
that the manager made me stop it." The reader will
remember that a similar plan of campaign against
rats was carried out by Edison while in the West.

About this time Edison had a narrow escape from
injury that might easily have shortened his career,
and he seems to have provoked the trouble more or
less innocently by using a little elementary chemistry.
"After being in Boston several months," he says,
"working New York wire No. 1, I was requested to
work the press wire, called the `milk route,' as there
were so many towns on it taking press simultaneously.
New York office had reported great delays on the
wire, due to operators constantly interrupting, or
`breaking,' as it was called, to have words repeated
which they had failed to get; and New York claimed
that Boston was one of the worst offenders. It was
a rather hard position for me, for if I took the report
without breaking, it would prove the previous Boston
operator incompetent. The results made the
operator have some hard feelings against me. He
was put back on the wire, and did much better after
that. It seems that the office boy was down on this
man. One night he asked me if I could tell him how
to fix a key so that it would not `break,' even if the
circuit-breaker was open, and also so that it could not
be easily detected. I told him to jab a penful of
ink on the platinum points, as there was sugar enough
to make it sufficiently thick to hold up when the
operator tried to break--the current still going through
the ink so that he could not break.

"The next night about 1 A.M. this operator, on the
press wire, while I was standing near a House printer
studying it, pulled out a glass insulator, then used
upside down as a substitute for an ink-bottle, and
threw it with great violence at me, just missing my
head. It would certainly have killed me if it had
not missed. The cause of the trouble was that this
operator was doing the best he could not to break,
but being compelled to, opened his key and found he
couldn't. The press matter came right along, and
he could not stop it. The office boy had put the ink
in a few minutes before, when the operator had
turned his head during a lull. He blamed me instinctively
as the cause of the trouble. Later on we
became good friends. He took his meals at the same
emaciator that I did. His main object in life seemed
to be acquiring the art of throwing up wash-pitchers
and catching them without breaking them. About
one-third of his salary was used up in paying for
pitchers."

One day a request reached the Western Union
Telegraph office in Boston, from the principal of a
select school for young ladies, to the effect that she
would like some one to be sent up to the school to
exhibit and describe the Morse telegraph to her
"children." There has always been a warm interest
in Boston in the life and work of Morse, who was born
there, at Charlestown, barely a mile from the birthplace
of Franklin, and this request for a little lecture
on Morse's telegraph was quite natural. Edison, who
was always ready to earn some extra money for his
experiments, and was already known as the best-
informed operator in the office, accepted the
invitation. What happened is described by Adams as
follows: "We gathered up a couple of sounders, a
battery, and sonic wire, and at the appointed time
called on her to do the stunt. Her school-room was
about twenty by twenty feet, not including a small
platform. We rigged up the line between the two
ends of the room, Edison taking the stage while I
was at the other end of the room. All being in
readiness, the principal was told to bring in her
children. The door opened and in came about twenty
young ladies elegantly gowned, not one of whom was
under seventeen. When Edison saw them I thought
he would faint. He called me on the line and asked
me to come to the stage and explain the mysteries of
the Morse system. I replied that I thought he was in
the right place, and told him to get busy with his talk
on dots and dashes. Always modest, Edison was so
overcome he could hardly speak, but he managed
to say, finally, that as his friend Mr. Adams was
better equipped with cheek than he was, we would
change places, and he would do the demonstrating
while I explained the whole thing. This caused the
bevy to turn to see where the lecturer was. I went
on the stage, said something, and we did some
telegraphing over the line. I guess it was satisfactory;
we got the money, which was the main point to us."
Edison tells the story in a similar manner, but insists
that it was he who saved the situation. "I managed
to say that I would work the apparatus, and Mr.
Adams would make the explanations. Adams was so
embarrassed that he fell over an ottoman. The girls
tittered, and this increased his embarrassment until he
couldn't say a word. The situation was so desperate
that for a reason I never could explain I started in
myself and talked and explained better than I ever did
before or since. I can talk to two or three persons;
but when there are more they radiate some unknown
form of influence which paralyzes my vocal cords.
However, I got out of this scrape, and many times
afterward when I chanced with other operators to meet
some of the young ladies on their way home from
school, they would smile and nod, much to the
mystification of the operators, who were ignorant of
this episode."

Another amusing story of this period of impecuniosity
and financial strain is told thus by Edison: "My
friend Adams was working in the Franklin Telegraph
Company, which competed with the Western Union.
Adams was laid off, and as his financial resources had
reached absolute zero centigrade, I undertook to let
him sleep in my hall bedroom. I generally had hall
bedrooms, because they were cheap and I needed
money to buy apparatus. I also had the pleasure of
his genial company at the boarding-house about a
mile distant, but at the sacrifice of some apparatus.
One morning, as we were hastening to breakfast, we
came into Tremont Row, and saw a large crowd in
front of two small `gents' furnishing goods stores.
We stopped to ascertain the cause of the excitement.
One store put up a paper sign in the display window
which said: `Three-hundred pairs of stockings received
this day, five cents a pair--no connection with the
store next door.' Presently the other store put up
a sign stating they had received three hundred pairs,
price three cents per pair, and stated that they had
no connection with the store next door. Nobody
went in. The crowd kept increasing. Finally, when
the price had reached three pairs for one cent, Adams
said to me: `I can't stand this any longer; give me
a cent.' I gave him a nickel, and he elbowed his way
in; and throwing the money on the counter, the
store being filled with women clerks, he said: `Give
me three pairs.' The crowd was breathless, and the
girl took down a box and drew out three pairs of
baby socks. `Oh!' said Adams, `I want men's size.'
`Well, sir, we do not permit one to pick sizes for that
amount of money.' And the crowd roared; and this
broke up the sales."

It has generally been supposed that Edison did not
take up work on the stock ticker until after his arrival
a little later in New York; but he says: "After the
vote-recorder I invented a stock ticker, and started
a ticker service in Boston; had thirty or forty
subscribers, and operated from a room over the Gold
Exchange. This was about a year after Callahan
started in New York." To say the least, this evidenced
great ability and enterprise on the part of
the youth. The dealings in gold during the Civil
War and after its close had brought gold indicators
into use, and these had soon been followed by "stock
tickers," the first of which was introduced in New
York in 1867. The success of this new but still
primitively crude class of apparatus was immediate.
Four manufacturers were soon busy trying to keep
pace with the demands for it from brokers; and the
Gold & Stock Telegraph Company formed to exploit
the system soon increased its capital from $200,000
to $300,000, paying 12 per cent. dividends on the
latter amount. Within its first year the capital was
again increased to $1,000,000, and dividends of 10
per cent. were paid easily on that sum also. It is
needless to say that such facts became quickly known
among the operators, from whose ranks, of course,
the new employees were enlisted; and it was a common
ambition among the more ingenious to produce
a new ticker. From the beginning, each phase of
electrical development--indeed, each step in
mechanics--has been accompanied by the well-known
phenomenon of invention; namely, the attempt of the
many to perfect and refine and even re-invent where
one or two daring spirits have led the way. The
figures of capitalization and profit just mentioned
were relatively much larger in the sixties than they
are to-day; and to impressionable young operators
they spelled illimitable wealth. Edison was, how
ever, about the only one in Boston of whom history
makes record as achieving any tangible result in this
new art; and he soon longed for the larger telegraphic
opportunity of New York. His friend, Milt Adams,
went West with quenchless zest for that kind of roving
life and aimless adventure of which the serious
minded Edison had already had more than enough.
Realizing that to New York he must look for further
support in his efforts, Edison, deep in debt for his
embryonic inventions, but with high hope and
courage, now made the next momentous step in his
career. He was far riper in experience and practice
of his art than any other telegrapher of his age, and
had acquired, moreover, no little knowledge of the
practical business of life. Note has been made above
of his invention of a stock ticker in Boston, and of
his establishing a stock-quotation circuit. This was
by no means all, and as a fitting close to this chapter
he may be quoted as to some other work and its perils
in experimentation: "I also engaged in putting up
private lines, upon which I used an alphabetical dial
instrument for telegraphing between business
establishments, a forerunner of modern telephony. This
instrument was very simple and practical, and any
one could work it after a few minutes' explanation.
I had these instruments made at Mr. Hamblet's, who
had a little shop where he was engaged in experimenting
with electric clocks. Mr. Hamblet was the
father and introducer in after years of the Western
Union Telegraph system of time distribution. My
laboratory was the headquarters for the men, and
also of tools and supplies for those private lines.
They were put up cheaply, as I used the roofs of
houses, just as the Western Union did. It never
occurred to me to ask permission from the owners;
all we did was to go to the store, etc., say we were
telegraph men, and wanted to go up to the wires on
the roof; and permission was always granted.

"In this laboratory I had a large induction coil
which I had borrowed to make some experiments with.
One day I got hold of both electrodes of the coil, and
it clinched my hand on them so that I couldn't let
go. The battery was on a shelf. The only way I
could get free was to back off and pull the coil, so
that the battery wires would pull the cells off the shelf
and thus break the circuit. I shut my eyes and
pulled, but the nitric acid splashed all over my face
and ran down my back. I rushed to a sink, which
was only half big enough, and got in as well as I could
and wiggled around for several minutes to permit
the water to dilute the acid and stop the pain. My
face and back were streaked with yellow; the skin
was thoroughly oxidized. I did not go on the street
by daylight for two weeks, as the appearance of my
face was dreadful. The skin, however, peeled off,
and new skin replaced it without any damage."



CHAPTER VII

THE STOCK TICKER


"THE letters and figures used in the language of
the tape," said a well-known Boston stock
speculator, "are very few, but they spell ruin in
ninety-nine million ways." It is not to be inferred,
however, that the modern stock ticker has anything
to do with the making or losing of fortunes. There
were regular daily stock-market reports in London
newspapers in 1825, and New York soon followed the
example. As far back as 1692, Houghton issued in
London a weekly review of financial and commercial
transactions, upon which Macaulay based the lively
narrative of stock speculation in the seventeenth
century, given in his famous history. That which
the ubiquitous stock ticker has done is to give
instantaneity to the news of what the stock market is
doing, so that at every minute, thousands of miles
apart, brokers, investors, and gamblers may learn
the exact conditions. The existence of such facilities
is to be admired rather than deplored. News is vital
to Wall Street, and there is no living man on whom
the doings in Wall Street are without effect. The
financial history of the United States and of the world,
as shown by the prices of government bonds and
general securities, has been told daily for forty years
on these narrow strips of paper tape, of which thousands
of miles are run yearly through the "tickers"
of New York alone. It is true that the record of the
chattering little machine, made in cabalistic abbreviations
on the tape, can drive a man suddenly to the
very verge of insanity with joy or despair; but if
there be blame for that, it attaches to the American
spirit of speculation and not to the ingenious mechanism
which reads and registers the beating of the
financial pulse.

Edison came first to New York in 1868, with his
early stock printer, which he tried unsuccessfully to
sell. He went back to Boston, and quite undismayed
got up a duplex telegraph. "Toward the end
of my stay in Boston," he says, "I obtained a loan
of money, amounting to $800, to build a peculiar
kind of duplex telegraph for sending two messages
over a single wire simultaneously. The apparatus
was built, and I left the Western Union employ and
went to Rochester, New York, to test the apparatus
on the lines of the Atlantic & Pacific Telegraph between
that city and New York. But the assistant at
the other end could not be made to understand anything,
notwithstanding I had written out a very
minute description of just what to do. After trying
for a week I gave it up and returned to New York
with but a few cents in my pocket." Thus he who
has never speculated in a stock in his life was destined
to make the beginnings of his own fortune by providing
for others the apparatus that should bring to the
eye, all over a great city, the momentary fluctuations
of stocks and bonds. No one could have been in
direr poverty than he when the steamboat landed
him in New York in 1869. He was in debt, and his
few belongings in books and instruments had to be
left behind. He was not far from starving. Mr.
W. S. Mallory, an associate of many years, quotes
directly from him on this point: "Some years ago
we had a business negotiation in New York which
made it necessary for Mr. Edison and me to visit the
city five or six times within a comparatively short
period. It was our custom to leave Orange about
11 A.M., and on arrival in New York to get our lunch
before keeping the appointments, which were usually
made for two o'clock. Several of these lunches were
had at Delmonico's, Sherry's, and other places of
similar character, but one day, while en route, Mr.
Edison said: `I have been to lunch with you several
times; now to-day I am going to take you to lunch
with me, and give you the finest lunch you ever had.'
When we arrived in Hoboken, we took the downtown
ferry across the Hudson, and when we arrived
on the Manhattan side Mr. Edison led the way to
Smith & McNell's, opposite Washington Market, and
well known to old New Yorkers. We went inside and
as soon as the waiter appeared Mr. Edison ordered
apple dumplings and a cup of coffee for himself. He
consumed his share of the lunch with the greatest
possible pleasure. Then, as soon as he had finished,
he went to the cigar counter and purchased cigars.
As we walked to keep the appointment he gave me
the following reminiscence: When he left Boston and
decided to come to New York he had only money
enough for the trip. After leaving the boat his first
thought was of breakfast; but he was without money
to obtain it. However, in passing a wholesale tea-
house he saw a man tasting tea, so he went in and
asked the `taster' if he might have some of the tea.
This the man gave him, and thus he obtained his first
breakfast in New York. He knew a telegraph operator
here, and on him he depended for a loan to tide
him over until such time as he should secure a position.
During the day he succeeded in locating this operator,
but found that he also was out of a job, and that the
best he could do was to loan him one dollar, which
he did. This small sum of money represented both
food and lodging until such time as work could be
obtained. Edison said that as the result of the time
consumed and the exercise in walking while he found
his friend, he was extremely hungry, and that he gave
most serious consideration as to what he should buy
in the way of food, and what particular kind of food
would be most satisfying and filling. The result was
that at Smith & McNell's he decided on apple dumplings
and a cup of coffee, than which he never ate anything
more appetizing. It was not long before he
was at work and was able to live in a normal manner."

During the Civil War, with its enormous increase
in the national debt and the volume of paper money,
gold had gone to a high premium; and, as ever, by its
fluctuations in price the value of all other commodities
was determined. This led to the creation of a
"Gold Room" in Wall Street, where the precious
metal could be dealt in; while for dealings in stocks
there also existed the "Regular Board," the "Open
Board," and the "Long Room." Devoted to one,
but the leading object of speculation, the "Gold
Room" was the very focus of all the financial and
gambling activity of the time, and its quotations
governed trade and commerce. At first notations in
chalk on a blackboard sufficed, but seeing their
inadequacy, Dr. S. S. Laws, vice-president and actual
presiding officer of the Gold Exchange, devised and
introduced what was popularly known as the "gold
indicator." This exhibited merely the prevailing
price of gold; but as its quotations changed from
instant to instant, it was in a most literal sense "the
cynosure of neighboring eyes." One indicator looked
upon the Gold Room; the other opened toward the
street. Within the exchange the face could easily be
seen high up on the west wall of the room, and the
machine was operated by Mr. Mersereau, the official
registrar of the Gold Board.

Doctor Laws, who afterward became President of
the State University of Missouri, was an inventor of
unusual ability and attainments. In his early youth
he had earned his livelihood in a tool factory; and,
apparently with his savings, he went to Princeton,
where he studied electricity under no less a teacher
than the famous Joseph Henry. At the outbreak of
the war in 1861 he was president of one of the
Presbyterian synodical colleges in the South, whose
buildings passed into the hands of the Government.
Going to Europe, he returned to New York in 1863,
and, becoming interested with a relative in financial
matters, his connection with the Gold Exchange soon
followed, when it was organized. The indicating
mechanism he now devised was electrical, controlled
at central by two circuit-closing keys, and was a
prototype of all the later and modern step-by-step printing
telegraphs, upon which the distribution of financial
news depends. The "fraction" drum of the indicator
could be driven in either direction, known as
the advance and retrograde movements, and was
divided and marked in eighths. It geared into a
"unit" drum, just as do speed-indicators and
cyclometers. Four electrical pulsations were required to
move the drum the distance between the fractions.
The general operation was simple, and in normally
active times the mechanism and the registrar were
equal to all emergencies. But it is obvious that the
record had to be carried away to the brokers' offices
and other places by messengers; and the delay,
confusion, and mistakes soon suggested to Doctor Laws
the desirability of having a number of indicators at
such scattered points, operated by a master transmitter,
and dispensing with the regiments of noisy
boys. He secured this privilege of distribution, and,
resigning from the exchange, devoted his exclusive
attention to the "Gold Reporting Telegraph," which
he patented, and for which, at the end of 1866, he
had secured fifty subscribers. His indicators were
small oblong boxes, in the front of which was a long
slot, allowing the dials as they travelled past, inside,
to show the numerals constituting the quotation;
the dials or wheels being arranged in a row
horizontally, overlapping each other, as in modern fare
registers which are now seen on most trolley cars.
It was not long before there were three hundred
subscribers; but the very success of this device brought
competition and improvement. Mr. E. A. Callahan,
an ingenious printing-telegraph operator, saw that
there were unexhausted possibilities in the idea, and
his foresight and inventiveness made him the father
of the "ticker," in connection with which he was
thus, like Laws, one of the first to grasp and exploit
the underlying principle of the "central station" as
a universal source of supply. The genesis of his
invention Mr. Callahan has told in an interesting way:
"In 1867, on the site of the present Mills Building on
Broad Street, opposite the Stock Exchange of today,
was an old building which had been cut up to
subserve the necessities of its occupants, all engaged
in dealing in gold and stocks. It had one main entrance
from the street to a hallway, from which entrance
to the offices of two prominent broker firms
was obtained. Each firm had its own army of boys,
numbering from twelve to fifteen, whose duties were
to ascertain the latest quotations from the different
exchanges. Each boy devoted his attention to some
particularly active stock. Pushing each other to
get into these narrow quarters, yelling out the prices
at the door, and pushing back for later ones, the
hustle made this doorway to me a most undesirable
refuge from an April shower. I was simply whirled
into the street. I naturally thought that much of
this noise and confusion might be dispensed with, and
that the prices might be furnished through some
system of telegraphy which would not require the
employment of skilled operators. The conception of
the stock ticker dates from this incident."

Mr. Callahan's first idea was to distribute gold
quotations, and to this end he devised an "indicator."
It consisted of two dials mounted separately, each
revolved by an electromagnet, so that the desired
figures were brought to an aperture in the case
enclosing the apparatus, as in the Laws system. Each
shaft with its dial was provided with two ratchet
wheels, one the reverse of the other. One was used in
connection with the propelling lever, which was provided
with a pawl to fit into the teeth of the reversed
ratchet wheel on its forward movement. It was thus
made impossible for either dial to go by momentum
beyond its limit. Learning that Doctor Laws, with
the skilful aid of F. L. Pope, was already active in the
same direction, Mr. Callahan, with ready wit, transformed
his indicator into a "ticker" that would make
a printed record. The name of the "ticker" came
through the casual remark of an observer to whom
the noise was the most striking feature of the
mechanism. Mr. Callahan removed the two dials, and,
substituting type wheels, turned the movements face
to face, so that each type wheel could imprint its
characters upon a paper tape in two lines. Three
wires stranded together ran from the central office
to each instrument. Of these one furnished the current
for the alphabet wheel, one for the figure wheel,
and one for the mechanism that took care of the
inking and printing on the tape. Callahan made the
further innovation of insulating his circuit wires,
although the cost was then forty times as great as
that of bare wire. It will be understood that
electromagnets were the ticker's actuating agency. The
ticker apparatus was placed under a neat glass shade
and mounted on a shelf. Twenty-five instruments
were energized from one circuit, and the quotations
were supplied from a "central" at 18 New Street.
The Gold & Stock Telegraph Company was promptly
organized to supply to brokers the system, which
was very rapidly adopted throughout the financial
district of New York, at the southern tip of Manhattan
Island. Quotations were transmitted by the
Morse telegraph from the floor of the Stock Exchange
to the "central," and thence distributed to the
subscribers. Success with the "stock" news system was
instantaneous.

It was at this juncture that Edison reached New
York, and according to his own statement found
shelter at night in the battery-room of the Gold
Indicator Company, having meantime applied for a
position as operator with the Western Union. He
had to wait a few days, and during this time he seized
the opportunity to study the indicators and the complicated
general transmitter in the office, controlled
from the keyboard of the operator on the floor of the
Gold Exchange. What happened next has been the
basis of many inaccurate stories, but is dramatic
enough as told in Mr. Edison's own version: "On the
third day of my arrival and while sitting in the office,
the complicated general instrument for sending on all
the lines, and which made a very great noise, suddenly
came to a stop with a crash. Within two minutes
over three hundred boys--a boy from every broker
in the street--rushed up-stairs and crowded the long
aisle and office, that hardly had room for one hundred,
all yelling that such and such a broker's wire was out
of order and to fix it at once. It was pandemonium,
and the man in charge became so excited that he lost
control of all the knowledge he ever had. I went to
the indicator, and, having studied it thoroughly, knew
where the trouble ought to be, and found it. One of
the innumerable contact springs had broken off and
had fallen down between the two gear wheels and
stopped the instrument; but it was not very noticeable.
As I went out to tell the man in charge what
the matter was, Doctor Laws appeared on the scene,
the most excited person I had seen. He demanded
of the man the cause of the trouble, but the man was
speechless. I ventured to say that I knew what the
trouble was, and he said, `Fix it! Fix it! Be quick!'
I removed the spring and set the contact wheels at
zero; and the line, battery, and inspecting men all
scattered through the financial district to set the
instruments. In about two hours things were working
again. Doctor Laws came in to ask my name and
what I was doing. I told him, and he asked me to
come to his private office the following day. His
office was filled with stacks of books all relating to
metaphysics and kindred matters. He asked me a
great many questions about the instruments and his
system, and I showed him how he could simplify
things generally. He then requested that I should
call next day. On arrival, he stated at once that
he had decided to put me in charge of the whole
plant, and that my salary would be $300 per month!
This was such a violent jump from anything I had
ever seen before, that it rather paralyzed me for a
while, I thought it was too much to be lasting, but
I determined to try and live up to that salary if
twenty hours a day of hard work would do it. I
kept this position, made many improvements, devised
several stock tickers, until the Gold & Stock
Telegraph Company consolidated with the Gold Indicator
Company." Certainly few changes in fortune
have been more sudden and dramatic in any
notable career than this which thus placed an ill-
clad, unkempt, half-starved, eager lad in a position
of such responsibility in days when the fluctuations
in the price of gold at every instant meant fortune or
ruin to thousands.

Edison, barely twenty-one years old, was a keen
observer of the stirring events around him. "Wall
Street" is at any time an interesting study, but it
was never at a more agitated and sensational period
of its history than at this time. Edison's arrival in
New York coincided with an active speculation in
gold which may, indeed, be said to have provided him
with occupation; and was soon followed by the attempt
of Mr. Jay Gould and his associates to corner
the gold market, precipitating the panic of Black
Friday, September 24, 1869. Securing its import
duties in the precious metal and thus assisting to
create an artificial stringency in the gold market, the
Government had made it a practice to relieve the
situation by selling a million of gold each month.
The metal was thus restored to circulation. In some
manner, President Grant was persuaded that general
conditions and the movement of the crops would be
helped if the sale of gold were suspended for a time;
and, this put into effect, he went to visit an old
friend in Pennsylvania remote from railroads and
telegraphs. The Gould pool had acquired control of
$10,000,000 in gold, and drove the price upward
rapidly from 144 toward their goal of 200. On Black
Friday they purchased another $28,000,000 at 160,
and still the price went up. The financial and
commercial interests of the country were in panic; but
the pool persevered in its effort to corner gold, with
a profit of many millions contingent on success.
Yielding to frantic requests, President Grant, who
returned to Washington, caused Secretary Boutwell,
of the Treasury, to throw $4,000,000 of gold into the
market. Relief was instantaneous, the corner was
broken, but the harm had been done. Edison's remarks
shed a vivid side-light on this extraordinary
episode: "On Black Friday," he says, "we had a
very exciting time with the indicators. The Gould
and Fisk crowd had cornered gold, and had run the
quotations up faster than the indicator could follow.
The indicator was composed of several wheels; on
the circumference of each wheel were the numerals;
and one wheel had fractions. It worked in the same
way as an ordinary counter; one wheel made ten
revolutions, and at the tenth it advanced the adjacent
wheel; and this in its turn having gone ten revolutions,
advanced the next wheel, and so on. On the
morning of Black Friday the indicator was quoting
150 premium, whereas the bids by Gould's agents in
the Gold Room were 165 for five millions or any part.
We had a paper-weight at the transmitter (to speed
it up), and by one o'clock reached the right quotation.
The excitement was prodigious. New Street,
as well as Broad Street, was jammed with excited
people. I sat on the top of the Western Union telegraph
booth to watch the surging, crazy crowd. One
man came to the booth, grabbed a pencil, and
attempted to write a message to Boston. The first
stroke went clear off the blank; he was so excited that
he had the operator write the message for him. Amid
great excitement Speyer, the banker, went crazy and
it took five men to hold him; and everybody lost their
head. The Western Union operator came to me and
said: `Shake, Edison, we are O. K. We haven't got
a cent.' I felt very happy because we were poor.
These occasions are very enjoyable to a poor man;
but they occur rarely."

There is a calm sense of detachment about this
description that has been possessed by the narrator
even in the most anxious moments of his career. He
was determined to see all that could be seen, and,
quitting his perch on the telegraph booth, sought the
more secluded headquarters of the pool forces. "A
friend of mine was an operator who worked in the
office of Belden & Company, 60 Broadway, which
were headquarters for Fisk. Mr. Gould was up-town
in the Erie offices in the Grand Opera House. The firm
on Broad Street, Smith, Gould & Martin, was the other
branch. All were connected with wires. Gould seemed
to be in charge, Fisk being the executive down-town.
Fisk wore a velvet corduroy coat and a very peculiar
vest. He was very chipper, and seemed to be light-
hearted and happy. Sitting around the room were
about a dozen fine-looking men. All had the complexion
of cadavers. There was a basket of cham-
pagne. Hundreds of boys were rushing in paying
checks, all checks being payable to Belden & Company.
When James Brown, of Brown Brothers &
Company, broke the corner by selling five million
gold, all payments were repudiated by Smith, Gould
& Martin; but they continued to receive checks at
Belden & Company's for some time, until the Street
got wind of the game. There was some kind of conspiracy
with the Government people which I could
not make out, but I heard messages that opened my
eyes as to the ramifications of Wall Street. Gold fell
to 132, and it took us all night to get the indicator
back to that quotation. All night long the streets
were full of people. Every broker's office was brilliantly
lighted all night, and all hands were at work.
The clearing-house for gold had been swamped, and
all was mixed up. No one knew if he was bankrupt
or not."

Edison in those days rather liked the modest coffee-
shops, and mentions visiting one. "When on the
New York No. 1 wire, that I worked in Boston, there
was an operator named Jerry Borst at the other end.
He was a first-class receiver and rapid sender. We
made up a scheme to hold this wire, so he changed
one letter of the alphabet and I soon got used to it;
and finally we changed three letters. If any operator
tried to receive from Borst, he couldn't do it, so Borst
and I always worked together. Borst did less talking
than any operator I ever knew. Never having seen
him, I went while in New York to call upon him. I
did all the talking. He would listen, stroke his
beard, and say nothing. In the evening I went over
to an all-night lunch-house in Printing House Square
in a basement--Oliver's. Night editors, including
Horace Greeley, and Henry Raymond, of the New
York Times, took their midnight lunch there. When
I went with Borst and another operator, they pointed
out two or three men who were then celebrated in the
newspaper world. The night was intensely hot and
close. After getting our lunch and upon reaching the
sidewalk, Borst opened his mouth, and said: `That's
a great place; a plate of cakes, a cup of coffee, and
a Russian bath, for ten cents.' This was about fifty
per cent. of his conversation for two days."

The work of Edison on the gold-indicator had
thrown him into close relationship with Mr. Franklin
L. Pope, the young telegraph engineer then associated
with Doctor Laws, and afterward a distinguished
expert and technical writer, who became
President of the American Institute of Electrical
Engineers in 1886. Each recognized the special ability
of the other, and barely a week after the famous
events of Black Friday the announcement of their
partnership appeared in the Telegrapher of October
1, 1869. This was the first "professional card," if
it may be so described, ever issued in America by a
firm of electrical engineers, and is here reproduced.
It is probable that the advertisement, one of the largest
in the Telegrapher, and appearing frequently, was
not paid for at full rates, as the publisher, Mr. J. N.
Ashley, became a partner in the firm, and not altogether
a "sleeping one" when it came to a division
of profits, which at times were considerable. In
order to be nearer his new friend Edison boarded with
Pope at Elizabeth, New Jersey, for some time, living
"the strenuous life" in the performance of his duties.
Associated with Pope and Ashley, he followed up his
work on telegraph printers with marked success.
"While with them I devised a printer to print gold
quotations instead of indicating them. The lines were
started, and the whole was sold out to the Gold &
Stock Telegraph Company. My experimenting was
all done in the small shop of a Doctor Bradley,
located near the station of the Pennsylvania Railroad
in Jersey City. Every night I left for Elizabeth on
the 1 A.M. train, then walked half a mile to Mr. Pope's
house and up at 6 A.M. for breakfast to catch the
7 A.M. train. This continued all winter, and many
were the occasions when I was nearly frozen in the
Elizabeth walk." This Doctor Bradley appears to
have been the first in this country to make electrical
measurements of precision with the galvanometer,
but was an old-school experimenter who would work
for years on an instrument without commercial value.
He was also extremely irascible, and when on one
occasion the connecting wire would not come out of
one of the binding posts of a new and costly galvanometer,
he jerked the instrument to the floor and then
jumped on it. He must have been, however, a man
of originality, as evidenced by his attempt to age
whiskey by electricity, an attempt that has often
since been made. "The hobby he had at the time
I was there," says Edison, "was the aging of raw
whiskey by passing strong electric currents through
it. He had arranged twenty jars with platinum
electrodes held in place by hard rubber. When all
was ready, he filled the cells with whiskey, connected
the battery, locked the door of the small room in
which they were placed, and gave positive orders
that no one should enter. He then disappeared for
three days. On the second day we noticed a terrible
smell in the shop, as if from some dead animal. The
next day the doctor arrived and, noticing the smell,
asked what was dead. We all thought something
had got into his whiskey-room and died. He opened
it and was nearly overcome. The hard rubber he
used was, of course, full of sulphur, and this being
attacked by the nascent hydrogen, had produced
sulphuretted hydrogen gas in torrents, displacing all
of the air in the room. Sulphuretted hydrogen is,
as is well known, the gas given off by rotten eggs."

Another glimpse of this period of development is
afforded by an interesting article on the stock-reporting
telegraph in the Electrical World of March 4, 1899,
by Mr. Ralph W. Pope, the well-known Secretary of
the American Institute of Electrical Engineers, who
had as a youth an active and intimate connection
with that branch of electrical industry. In the course
of his article he mentions the curious fact that Doctor
Laws at first, in receiving quotations from the Exchanges,
was so distrustful of the Morse system that
he installed long lines of speaking-tube as a more
satisfactory and safe device than a telegraph wire.
As to the relations of that time Mr. Pope remarks:
"The rivalry between the two concerns resulted in
consolidation, Doctor Laws's enterprise being
absorbed by the Gold & Stock Telegraph Company,
while the Laws stock printer was relegated to the
scrap-heap and the museum. Competition in the
field did not, however, cease. Messrs. Pope and
Edison invented a one-wire printer, and started a
system of `gold printers' devoted to the recording
of gold quotations and sterling exchange only. It
was intended more especially for importers and
exchange brokers, and was furnished at a lower price
than the indicator service.... The building and
equipment of private telegraph lines was also entered
upon. This business was also subsequently absorbed
by the Gold & Stock Telegraph Company, which was
probably at this time at the height of its prosperity.
The financial organization of the company was peculiar
and worthy of attention. Each subscriber for
a machine paid in $100 for the privilege of securing
an instrument. For the service he paid $25 weekly.
In case he retired or failed, he could transfer his
`right,' and employees were constantly on the alert
for purchasable rights, which could be disposed of
at a profit. It was occasionally worth the profit to
convince a man that he did not actually own the
machine which had been placed in his office.... The
Western Union Telegraph Company secured a majority
of its stock, and Gen. Marshall Lefferts was
elected president. A private-line department was
established, and the business taken over from Pope,
Edison, and Ashley was rapidly enlarged."

At this juncture General Lefferts, as President of
the Gold & Stock Telegraph Company, requested
Edison to go to work on improving the stock ticker,
furnishing the money; and the well-known "Universal"
ticker, in wide-spread use in its day, was one
result. Mr. Edison gives a graphic picture of the
startling effect on his fortunes: "I made a great many
inventions; one was the special ticker used for many
years outside of New York in the large cities. This
was made exceedingly simple, as they did not have
the experts we had in New York to handle anything
complicated. The same ticker was used on the London
Stock Exchange. After I had made a great number
of inventions and obtained patents, the General
seemed anxious that the matter should be closed up.
One day I exhibited and worked a successful device
whereby if a ticker should get out of unison in a
broker's office and commence to print wild figures,
it could be brought to unison from the central station,
which saved the labor of many men and much trouble
to the broker. He called me into his office, and said:
`Now, young man, I want to close up the matter of
your inventions. How much do you think you should
receive?' I had made up my mind that, taking into
consideration the time and killing pace I was working
at, I should be entitled to $5000, but could get along
with $3000. When the psychological moment arrived,
I hadn't the nerve to name such a large sum,
so I said: `Well, General, suppose you make me an
offer.' Then he said: `How would $40,000 strike
you?' This caused me to come as near fainting as I
ever got. I was afraid he would hear my heart beat.
I managed to say that I thought it was fair. `All
right, I will have a contract drawn; come around in
three days and sign it, and I will give you the money.'
I arrived on time, but had been doing some considerable
thinking on the subject. The sum seemed to
be very large for the amount of work, for at that time
I determined the value by the time and trouble, and
not by what the invention was worth to others. I
thought there was something unreal about it. However,
the contract was handed to me. I signed without
reading it." Edison was then handed the first
check he had ever received, one for $40,000 drawn
on the Bank of New York, at the corner of William
and Wall Streets. On going to the bank and passing
in the check at the wicket of the paying teller, some
brief remarks were made to him, which in his deafness
he did not understand. The check was handed
back to him, and Edison, fancying for a moment that
in some way he had been cheated, went outside "to
the large steps to let the cold sweat evaporate." He
then went back to the General, who, with his secretary,
had a good laugh over the matter, told him the check
must be endorsed, and sent with him a young man
to identify him. The ceremony of identification
performed with the paying teller, who was quite merry
over the incident, Edison was given the amount in
bundles of small bills "until there certainly seemed
to be one cubic foot." Unaware that he was the victim
of a practical joke, Edison proceeded gravely to
stow away the money in his overcoat pockets and all
his other pockets. He then went to Newark and sat
up all night with the money for fear it might be
stolen. Once more he sought help next morning,
when the General laughed heartily, and, telling the
clerk that the joke must not be carried any further,
enabled him to deposit the currency in the bank and
open an account.

Thus in an inconceivably brief time had Edison
passed from poverty to independence; made a deep
impression as to his originality and ability on
important people, and brought out valuable inventions;
lifting himself at one bound out of the ruck of
mediocrity, and away from the deadening drudgery of the
key. Best of all he was enterprising, one of the
leaders and pioneers for whom the world is always
looking; and, to use his own criticism of himself, he
had "too sanguine a temperament to keep money
in solitary confinement." With quiet self-possession
he seized his opportunity, began to buy machinery,
rented a shop and got work for it. Moving quickly
into a larger shop, Nos. 10 and 12 Ward Street,
Newark, New Jersey, he secured large orders from
General Lefferts to build stock tickers, and employed
fifty men. As business increased he put on a night
force, and was his own foreman on both shifts. Half
an hour of sleep three or four times in the twenty-
four hours was all he needed in those days, when one
invention succeeded another with dazzling rapidity,
and when he worked with the fierce, eruptive energy
of a great volcano, throwing out new ideas incessantly
with spectacular effect on the arts to which they
related. It has always been a theory with Edison that
we sleep altogether too much; but on the other hand
he never, until long past fifty, knew or practiced the
slightest moderation in work or in the use of strong
coffee and black cigars. He has, moreover, while
of tender and kindly disposition, never hesitated to
use men up as freely as a Napoleon or Grant; seeing
only the goal of a complete invention or perfected de-
vice, to attain which all else must become subsidiary.
He gives a graphic picture of his first methods as a
manufacturer: "Nearly all my men were on piece
work, and I allowed them to make good wages, and
never cut until the pay became absurdly high as they
got more expert. I kept no books. I had two hooks.
All the bills and accounts I owed I jabbed on one
hook; and memoranda of all owed to myself I put
on the other. When some of the bills fell due, and
I couldn't deliver tickers to get a supply of money, I
gave a note. When the notes were due, a messenger
came around from the bank with the note and a
protest pinned to it for $1.25. Then I would go to
New York and get an advance, or pay the note if I
had the money. This method of giving notes for
my accounts and having all notes protested I kept
up over two years, yet my credit was fine. Every
store I traded with was always glad to furnish goods,
perhaps in amazed admiration of my system of doing
business, which was certainly new." After a while
Edison got a bookkeeper, whose vagaries made him
look back with regret on the earlier, primitive method.
"The first three months I had him go over the books
to find out how much we had made. He reported
$3000. I gave a supper to some of my men to celebrate
this, only to be told two days afterward that
he had made a mistake, and that we had lost $500; and
then a few days after that he came to me again and
said he was all mixed up, and now found that we had
made over $7000." Edison changed bookkeepers, but
never thereafter counted anything real profit until he
had paid all his debts and had the profits in the bank.

The factory work at this time related chiefly to
stock tickers, principally the "Universal," of which
at one time twelve hundred were in use. Edison's
connection with this particular device was very
close while it lasted. In a review of the ticker art,
Mr. Callahan stated, with rather grudging praise,
that "a ticker at the present time (1901) would be
considered as impracticable and unsalable if it were
not provided with a unison device," and he goes on
to remark: "The first unison on stock tickers was
one used on the Laws printer.[2] It was a crude and
unsatisfactory piece of mechanism and necessitated
doubling of the battery in order to bring it into action.
It was short-lived. The Edison unison comprised a
lever with a free end travelling in a spiral or worm
on the type-wheel shaft until it met a pin at the end
of the worm, thus obstructing the shaft and leaving
the type-wheels at the zero-point until released by
the printing lever. This device is too well known to
require a further description. It is not applicable
to any instrument using two independently moving
type-wheels; but on nearly if not all other instruments
will be found in use." The stock ticker has
enjoyed the devotion of many brilliant inventors--
G. M. Phelps, H. Van Hoevenbergh, A. A. Knudson,
G. B. Scott, S. D. Field, John Burry--and remains in
extensive use as an appliance for which no substitute
or competitor has been found. In New York the
two great stock exchanges have deemed it necessary
to own and operate a stock-ticker service for the sole
benefit of their members; and down to the present
moment the process of improvement has gone on,
impelled by the increasing volume of business to be
reported. It is significant of Edison's work, now
dimmed and overlaid by later advances, that at the
very outset he recognized the vital importance of
interchangeability in the construction of this delicate
and sensitive apparatus. But the difficulties of these
early days were almost insurmountable. Mr. R. W.
Pope says of the "Universal" machines that they were
simple and substantial and generally satisfactory,
but adds: "These instruments were supposed to have
been made with interchangeable parts; but as a
matter of fact the instances in which these parts
would fit were very few. The instruction-book prepared
for the use of inspectors stated that `The parts
should not be tinkered nor bent, as they are accurately
made and interchangeable.' The difficulties encountered
in fitting them properly doubtless gave rise to a
story that Mr. Edison had stated that there were three
degrees of interchangeability. This was interpreted to
mean: First, the parts will fit; second, they will almost
fit; third, they do not fit, and can't be made to fit."


[2] This I invented as well.--T. A. E.


This early shop affords an illustration of the manner
in which Edison has made a deep impression on the
personnel of the electrical arts. At a single bench
there worked three men since rich or prominent.
One was Sigmund Bergmann, for a time partner with
Edison in his lighting developments in the United
States, and now head and principal owner of electrical
works in Berlin employing ten thousand men. The
next man adjacent was John Kruesi, afterward engineer
of the great General Electric Works at
Schenectady. A third was Schuckert, who left the
bench to settle up his father's little estate at Nuremberg,
stayed there and founded electrical factories,
which became the third largest in Germany, their
proprietor dying very wealthy. "I gave them a good
training as to working hours and hustling," says their
quondam master; and this is equally true as applied
to many scores of others working in companies bearing
the Edison name or organized under Edison
patents. It is curiously significant in this connection
that of the twenty-one presidents of the national
society, the American Institute of Electrical Engineers,
founded in 1884, eight have been intimately
associated with Edison--namely, Norvin Green and
F. L. Pope, as business colleagues of the days of which
we now write; while Messrs. Frank J. Sprague, T. C.
Martin, A. E. Kennelly, S. S. Wheeler, John W.
Lieb, Jr., and Louis A. Ferguson have all been at one
time or another in the Edison employ. The remark
was once made that if a famous American teacher
sat at one end of a log and a student at the other end,
the elements of a successful university were present.
It is equally true that in Edison and the many men
who have graduated from his stern school of endeavor,
America has had its foremost seat of electrical
engineering.



CHAPTER VIII

AUTOMATIC, DUPLEX, AND QUADRUPLEX
TELEGRAPHY

WORK of various kinds poured in upon the young
manufacturer, busy also with his own schemes
and inventions, which soon began to follow so many
distinct lines of inquiry that it ceases to be easy or
necessary for the historian to treat them all in
chronological sequence. Some notion of his ceaseless
activity may be formed from the fact that he started no
fewer than three shops in Newark during 1870-71,
and while directing these was also engaged by the
men who controlled the Automatic Telegraph Company
of New York, which had a circuit to Washington,
to help it out of its difficulties. "Soon after
starting the large shop (10 and 12 Ward Street,
Newark), I rented shop-room to the inventor of a
new rifle. I think it was the Berdan. In any event,
it was a rifle which was subsequently adopted by the
British Army. The inventor employed a tool-maker
who was the finest and best tool-maker I had ever
seen. I noticed that he worked pretty near the
whole of the twenty-four hours. This kind of application
I was looking for. He was getting $21.50 per
week, and was also paid for overtime. I asked him
if he could run the shop. `I don't know; try me!' he
said. `All right, I will give you $60 per week to run
both shifts.' He went at it. His executive ability
was greater than that of any other man I have yet
seen. His memory was prodigious, conversation
laconic, and movements rapid. He doubled the production
inside three months, without materially increasing
the pay-roll, by increasing the cutting speeds
of tools, and by the use of various devices. When in
need of rest he would lie down on a work-bench,
sleep twenty or thirty minutes, and wake up fresh.
As this was just what I could do, I naturally conceived
a great pride in having such a man in charge
of my work. But almost everything has trouble connected
with it. He disappeared one day, and although
I sent men everywhere that it was likely he
could be found, he was not discovered. After two
weeks he came into the factory in a terrible condition
as to clothes and face. He sat down and, turning to
me, said: `Edison, it's no use, this is the third time;
I can't stand prosperity. Put my salary back and
give me a job.' I was very sorry to learn that it was
whiskey that spoiled such a career. I gave him an
inferior job and kept him for a long time."

Edison had now entered definitely upon that career
as an inventor which has left so deep an imprint on
the records of the United States Patent Office, where
from his first patent in 1869 up to the summer of 1910
no fewer than 1328 separate patents have been applied
for in his name, averaging thirty-two every
year, and one about every eleven days; with a
substantially corresponding number issued. The
height of this inventive activity was attained
about 1882, in which year no fewer than 141 pat-
ents were applied for, and seventy-five granted to
him, or nearly nine times as many as in 1876, when
invention as a profession may be said to have been
adopted by this prolific genius. It will be understood,
of course, that even these figures do not represent
the full measure of actual invention, as in every
process and at every step there were many discoveries
that were not brought to patent registration, but
remained "trade secrets." And furthermore, that in
practically every case the actual patented invention
followed from one to a dozen or more gradually developing
forms of the same idea.

An Englishman named George Little had brought
over a system of automatic telegraphy which worked
well on a short line, but was a failure when put upon
the longer circuits for which automatic methods are
best adapted. The general principle involved in
automatic or rapid telegraphs, except the photographic
ones, is that of preparing the message in
advance, for dispatch, by perforating narrow strips of
paper with holes--work which can be done either by
hand-punches or by typewriter apparatus. A certain
group of perforations corresponds to a Morse
group of dots and dashes for a letter of the alphabet.
When the tape thus made ready is run rapidly through
a transmitting machine, electrical contact occurs
wherever there is a perforation, permitting the current
from the battery to flow into the line and thus
transmit signals correspondingly. At the distant end
these signals are received sometimes on an ink-writing
recorder as dots and dashes, or even as typewriting
letters; but in many of the earlier systems, like that
of Bain, the record at the higher rates of speed was
effected by chemical means, a tell-tale stain being
made on the travelling strip of paper by every spurt
of incoming current. Solutions of potassium iodide
were frequently used for this purpose, giving a sharp,
blue record, but fading away too rapidly.

The Little system had perforating apparatus operated
by electromagnets; its transmitting machine
was driven by a small electromagnetic motor; and
the record was made by electrochemical decomposition,
the writing member being a minute platinum
roller instead of the more familiar iron stylus. Moreover,
a special type of wire had been put up for the
single circuit of two hundred and eighty miles between
New York and Washington. This is believed to have
been the first "compound" wire made for telegraphic
or other signalling purposes, the object being to secure
greater lightness with textile strength and high
conductivity. It had a steel core, with a copper ribbon
wound spirally around it, and tinned to the core wire.
But the results obtained were poor, and in their
necessity the parties in interest turned to Edison.

Mr. E. H. Johnson tells of the conditions: "Gen.
W. J. Palmer and some New York associates had
taken up the Little automatic system and had expended
quite a sum in its development, when, thinking
they had reduced it to practice, they got Tom
Scott, of the Pennsylvania Railroad to send his
superintendent of telegraph over to look into and
report upon it. Of course he turned it down. The
syndicate was appalled at this report, and in this
extremity General Palmer thought of the man who
had impressed him as knowing it all by the telling
of telegraphic tales as a means of whiling away lonesome
hours on the plains of Colorado, where they
were associated in railroad-building. So this man--
it was I--was sent for to come to New York and
assuage their grief if possible. My report was that
the system was sound fundamentally, that it contained
the germ of a good thing, but needed working
out. Associated with General Palmer was one Col.
Josiah C. Reiff, then Eastern bond agent for the
Kansas Pacific Railroad. The Colonel was always
resourceful, and didn't fail in this case. He knew of
a young fellow who was doing some good work for
Marshall Lefferts, and who it was said was a genius
at invention, and a very fiend for work. His name
was Edison, and he had a shop out at Newark, New
Jersey. He came and was put in my care for the
purpose of a mutual exchange of ideas and for a report
by me as to his competency in the matter. This was
my introduction to Edison. He confirmed my views
of the automatic system. He saw its possibilities,
as well as the chief obstacles to be overcome--viz.,
the sluggishness of the wire, together with the need
of mechanical betterment of the apparatus; and he
agreed to take the job on one condition--namely,
that Johnson would stay and help, as `he was a man
with ideas.' Mr. Johnson was accordingly given
three months' leave from Colorado railroad-building,
and has never seen Colorado since."

Applying himself to the difficulties with wonted
energy, Edison devised new apparatus, and solved
the problem to such an extent that he and his as-
sistants succeeded in transmitting and recording one
thousand words per minute between New York and
Washington, and thirty-five hundred words per
minute to Philadelphia. Ordinary manual transmission
by key is not in excess of forty to fifty words
a minute. Stated very briefly, Edison's principal
contribution to the commercial development of the
automatic was based on the observation that in a
line of considerable length electrical impulses become
enormously extended, or sluggish, due to a
phenomenon known as self-induction, which with
ordinary Morse work is in a measure corrected
by condensers. But in the automatic the aim was
to deal with impulses following each other from
twenty-five to one hundred times as rapidly as in
Morse lines, and to attempt to receive and record
intelligibly such a lightning-like succession of signals would
have seemed impossible. But Edison discovered that
by utilizing a shunt around the receiving instrument,
with a soft iron core, the self-induction would produce
a momentary and instantaneous reversal of the
current at the end of each impulse, and thereby give
an absolutely sharp definition to each signal. This
discovery did away entirely with sluggishness, and
made it possible to secure high speeds over lines of
comparatively great lengths. But Edison's work on
the automatic did not stop with this basic suggestion,
for he took up and perfected the mechanical construction
of the instruments, as well as the perforators,
and also suggested numerous electrosensitive
chemicals for the receivers, so that the automatic
telegraph, almost entirely by reason of his individual
work, was placed on a plane of commercial practicability.
The long line of patents secured by him
in this art is an interesting exhibit of the development
of a germ to a completed system, not, as is
usually the case, by numerous inventors working
over considerable periods of time, but by one man
evolving the successive steps at a white heat of
activity.

This system was put in commercial operation, but
the company, now encouraged, was quite willing to
allow Edison to work out his idea of an automatic
that would print the message in bold Roman letters
instead of in dots and dashes; with consequent gain
in speed in delivery of the message after its receipt
in the operating-room, it being obviously necessary
in the case of any message received in Morse characters
to copy it in script before delivery to the recipient.
A large shop was rented in Newark, equipped with
$25,000 worth of machinery, and Edison was given
full charge. Here he built their original type of
apparatus, as improved, and also pushed his experiments
on the letter system so far that at a test, between
New York and Philadelphia, three thousand words
were sent in one minute and recorded in Roman type.
Mr. D. N. Craig, one of the early organizers of the
Associated Press, became interested in this company,
whose president was Mr. George Harrington, formerly
Assistant Secretary of the United States Treasury.

Mr. Craig brought with him at this time--the early
seventies--from Milwaukee a Mr. Sholes, who had a
wooden model of a machine to which had been given the
then new and unfamiliar name of "typewriter." Craig
was interested in the machine, and put the model in
Edison's hands to perfect. "This typewriter proved a
difficult thing," says Edison, "to make commercial.
The alignment of the letters was awful. One letter
would be one-sixteenth of an inch above the others;
and all the letters wanted to wander out of line. I
worked on it till the machine gave fair results.[3] Some
were made and used in the office of the Automatic
company. Craig was very sanguine that some day all
business letters would be written on a typewriter.
He died before that took place; but it gradually
made its way. The typewriter I got into commercial
shape is now known as the Remington. About this
time I got an idea I could devise an apparatus by
which four messages could simultaneously be sent
over a single wire without interfering with each other.
I now had five shops, and with experimenting on this
new scheme I was pretty busy; at least I did not
have ennui."


[3] See illustration on opposite page, showing reproduction of the
work done with this machine.


A very interesting picture of Mr. Edison at this time
is furnished by Mr. Patrick B. Delany, a well-known
inventor in the field of automatic and multiplex
telegraphy, who at that time was a chief operator of the
Franklin Telegraph Company at Philadelphia. His
remark about Edison that "his ingenuity inspired
confidence, and wavering financiers stiffened up when
it became known that he was to develop the automatic"
is a noteworthy evidence of the manner in
which the young inventor had already gained a firm
footing. He continues: "Edward H. Johnson was
brought on from the Denver & Rio Grande Railway
to assist in the practical introduction of automatic
telegraphy on a commercial basis, and about this
time, in 1872, I joined the enterprise. Fairly good
results were obtained between New York and Washington,
and Edison, indifferent to theoretical difficulties,
set out to prove high speeds between New
York and Charleston, South Carolina, the compound
wire being hitched up to one of the Southern &
Atlantic wires from Washington to Charleston for
the purpose of experimentation. Johnson and I
went to the Charleston end to carry out Edison's
plans, which were rapidly unfolded by telegraph
every night from a loft on lower Broadway, New
York. We could only get the wire after all business
was cleared, usually about midnight, and for months,
in the quiet hours, that wire was subjected to more
electrical acrobatics than any other wire ever
experienced. When the experiments ended, Edison's
system was put into regular commercial operation
between New York and Washington; and did fine
work. If the single wire had not broken about every
other day, the venture would have been a financial
success; but moisture got in between the copper ribbon
and the steel core, setting up galvanic action
which made short work of the steel. The demonstration
was, however, sufficiently successful to impel
Jay Gould to contract to pay about $4,000,000 in stock
for the patents. The contract was never completed so
far as the $4,000,000 were concerned, but Gould made
good use of it in getting control of the Western Union."

One of the most important persons connected with
the automatic enterprise was Mr. George Harrington,
to whom we have above referred, and with whom Mr.
Edison entered into close confidential relations, so
that the inventions made were held jointly, under a
partnership deed covering "any inventions or
improvements that may be useful or desired in
automatic telegraphy." Mr. Harrington was assured at
the outset by Edison that while the Little perforator
would give on the average only seven or eight words
per minute, which was not enough for commercial
purposes, he could devise one giving fifty or sixty
words, and that while the Little solution for the
receiving tape cost $15 to $17 per gallon, he could
furnish a ferric solution costing only five or six cents
per gallon. In every respect Edison "made good,"
and in a short time the system was a success, "Mr.
Little having withdrawn his obsolete perforator, his
ineffective resistance, his costly chemical solution, to
give place to Edison's perforator, Edison's resistance
and devices, and Edison's solution costing a few cents
per gallon. But," continues Mr. Harrington, in a
memorable affidavit, "the inventive efforts of Mr.
Edison were not confined to automatic telegraphy,
nor did they cease with the opening of that line to
Washington." They all led up to the quadruplex.

Flattered by their success, Messrs. Harrington and
Reiff, who owned with Edison the foreign patents for
the new automatic system, entered into an arrangement
with the British postal telegraph authorities
for a trial of the system in England, involving its
probable adoption if successful. Edison was sent to
England to make the demonstration, in 1873, reporting
there to Col. George E. Gouraud, who had been
an associate in the United States Treasury with Mr.
Harrington, and was now connected with the new
enterprise. With one small satchel of clothes, three
large boxes of instruments, and a bright fellow-
telegrapher named Jack Wright, he took voyage on the
Jumping Java, as she was humorously known, of
the Cunard line. The voyage was rough and the
little Java justified her reputation by jumping all
over the ocean. "At the table," says Edison, "there
were never more than ten or twelve people. I wondered
at the time how it could pay to run an ocean
steamer with so few people; but when we got into
calm water and could see the green fields, I was
astounded to see the number of people who appeared.
There were certainly two or three hundred. I learned
afterward that they were mostly going to the Vienna
Exposition. Only two days could I get on deck, and
on one of these a gentleman had a bad scalp wound
from being thrown against the iron wall of a small
smoking-room erected over a freight hatch."

Arrived in London, Edison set up his apparatus at
the Telegraph Street headquarters, and sent his companion
to Liverpool with the instruments for that
end. The condition of the test was that he was to
send from Liverpool and receive in London, and to
record at the rate of one thousand words per minute,
five hundred words to be sent every half hour for six
hours. Edison was given a wire and batteries to
operate with, but a preliminary test soon showed that
he was going to fail. Both wire and batteries were
poor, and one of the men detailed by the authorities
to watch the test remarked quietly, in a friendly way:
"You are not going to have much show. They are
going to give you an old Bridgewater Canal wire that
is so poor we don't work it, and a lot of `sand batteries'
at Liverpool."[4] The situation was rather depressing
to the young American thus encountering,
for the first time, the stolid conservatism and opposition
to change that characterizes so much of official
life and methods in Europe. "I thanked him," says
Edison, "and hoped to reciprocate somehow. I knew
I was in a hole. I had been staying at a little hotel
in Covent Garden called the Hummums! and got
nothing but roast beef and flounders, and my imagination
was getting into a coma. What I needed was
pastry. That night I found a French pastry shop
in High Holborn Street and filled up. My imagination
got all right. Early in the morning I saw
Gouraud, stated my case, and asked if he would stand
for the purchase of a powerful battery to send to
Liverpool. He said `Yes.' I went immediately to
Apps on the Strand and asked if he had a powerful
battery. He said he hadn't; that all that he had
was Tyndall's Royal Institution battery, which he
supposed would not serve. I saw it--one hundred
cells--and getting the price--one hundred guineas--
hurried to Gouraud. He said `Go ahead.' I telegraphed
to the man in Liverpool. He came on, got
the battery to Liverpool, set up and ready, just two
hours before the test commenced. One of the principal
things that made the system a success was that
the line was put to earth at the sending end through
a magnet, and the extra current from this, passed to
the line, served to sharpen the recording waves. This
new battery was strong enough to pass a powerful
current through the magnet without materially
diminishing the strength of the line current."


[4] The sand battery is now obsolete. In this type, the cell
containing the elements was filled with sand, which was kept moist
with an electrolyte.


The test under these more favorable circumstances
was a success. "The record was as perfect as copper
plate, and not a single remark was made in the `time
lost' column." Edison was now asked if he thought
he could get a greater speed through submarine cables
with this system than with the regular methods, and
replied that he would like a chance to try it. For
this purpose, twenty-two hundred miles of Brazilian
cable then stored under water in tanks at the Greenwich
works of the Telegraph Construction & Maintenance
Company, near London, was placed at his
disposal from 8 P.M. until 6 A.M. "This just suited
me, as I preferred night-work. I got my apparatus
down and set up, and then to get a preliminary idea
of what the distortion of the signal would be, I sent
a single dot, which should have been recorded upon my
automatic paper by a mark about one-thirty-second of
an inch long. Instead of that it was twenty-seven feet
long! If I ever had any conceit, it vanished from
my boots up. I worked on this cable more than two
weeks, and the best I could do was two words per
minute, which was only one-seventh of what the
guaranteed speed of the cable should be when laid.
What I did not know at the time was that a coiled
cable, owing to induction, was infinitely worse than
when laid out straight, and that my speed was as
good as, if not better than, with the regular system;
but no one told me this." While he was engaged on
these tests Colonel Gouraud came down one night to
visit him at the lonely works, spent a vigil with him,
and toward morning wanted coffee. There was only
one little inn near by, frequented by longshoremen and
employees from the soap-works and cement-factories
--a rough lot--and there at daybreak they went as
soon as the other customers had left for work. "The
place had a bar and six bare tables, and was simply
infested with roaches. The only things that I ever
could get were coffee made from burnt bread, with
brown molasses-cake. I ordered these for Gouraud.
The taste of the coffee, the insects, etc., were too
much. He fainted. I gave him a big dose of gin,
and this revived him. He went back to the works
and waited until six when the day men came, and
telegraphed for a carriage. He lost all interest in
the experiments after that, and I was ordered back
to America." Edison states, however, that the automatic
was finally adopted in England and used for
many years; indeed, is still in use there. But they
took whatever was needed from his system, and he
"has never had a cent from them."

Arduous work was at once resumed at home on
duplex and quadruplex telegraphy, just as though
there had been no intermission or discouragement
over dots twenty-seven feet long. A clue to his activity
is furnished in the fact that in 1872 he had
applied for thirty-eight patents in the class of teleg-
raphy, and twenty-five in 1873; several of these
being for duplex methods, on which he had experimented.
The earlier apparatus had been built several
years prior to this, as shown by a curious little
item of news that appeared in the Telegrapher of
January 30, 1869: "T. A. Edison has resigned his
situation in the Western Union office, Boston, and will
devote his time to bringing out his inventions."
Oh, the supreme, splendid confidence of youth! Six
months later, as we have seen, he had already made
his mark, and the same journal, in October, 1869,
could say: "Mr. Edison is a young man of the highest
order of mechanical talent, combined with good
scientific electrical knowledge and experience. He
has already invented and patented a number of
valuable and useful inventions, among which may
be mentioned the best instrument for double transmission
yet brought out." Not bad for a novice of
twenty-two. It is natural, therefore, after his
intervening work on indicators, stock tickers, automatic
telegraphs, and typewriters, to find him harking back
to duplex telegraphy, if, indeed, he can be said to have
dropped it in the interval. It has always been one of
the characteristic features of Edison's method of
inventing that work in several lines has gone forward
at the same time. No one line of investigation has
ever been enough to occupy his thoughts fully; or
to express it otherwise, he has found rest in turning
from one field of work to another, having absolutely
no recreations or hobbies, and not needing them. It
may also be said that, once entering it, Mr. Edison
has never abandoned any field of work. He may
change the line of attack; he may drop the subject
for a time; but sooner or later the note-books or the
Patent Office will bear testimony to the reminiscent
outcropping of latent thought on the matter. His
attention has shifted chronologically, and by process
of evolution, from one problem to another, and some
results are found to be final; but the interest of the
man in the thing never dies out. No one sees more
vividly than he the fact that in the interplay of the
arts one industry shapes and helps another, and that
no invention lives to itself alone.

The path to the quadruplex lay through work on
the duplex, which, suggested first by Moses G. Farmer
in 1852, had been elaborated by many ingenious
inventors, notably in this country by Stearns, before
Edison once again applied his mind to it. The different
methods of such multiple transmission--namely,
the simultaneous dispatch of the two communications
in opposite directions over the same wire, or the
dispatch of both at once in the same direction--gave
plenty of play to ingenuity. Prescott's Elements of
the Electric Telegraph, a standard work in its day,
described "a method of simultaneous transmission
invented by T. A. Edison, of New Jersey, in 1873,"
and says of it: "Its peculiarity consists in the fact
that the signals are transmitted in one direction by
reversing the polarity of a constant current, and in
the opposite direction by increasing or decreasing
the strength of the same current." Herein lay the
germ of the Edison quadruplex. It is also noted that
"In 1874 Edison invented a method of simultaneous
transmission by induced currents, which has given
very satisfactory results in experimental trials." Interest
in the duplex as a field of invention dwindled,
however, as the quadruplex loomed up, for while
the one doubled the capacity of a circuit, the latter
created three "phantom wires," and thus quadruplexed
the working capacity of any line to which
it was applied. As will have been gathered from the
above, the principle embodied in the quadruplex is
that of working over the line with two currents from
each end that differ from each other in strength or
nature, so that they will affect only instruments
adapted to respond to just such currents and no
others; and by so arranging the receiving apparatus
as not to be affected by the currents transmitted from
its own end of the line. Thus by combining instruments
that respond only to variation in the strength
of current from the distant station, with instruments
that respond only to the change in the direction of
current from the distant station, and by grouping a
pair of these at each end of the line, the quadruplex
is the result. Four sending and four receiving operators
are kept busy at each end, or eight in all. Aside
from other material advantages, it is estimated that
at least from $15,000,000 to $20,000,000 has been
saved by the Edison quadruplex merely in the cost
of line construction in America.

The quadruplex has not as a rule the same working
efficiency that four separate wires have. This is due
to the fact that when one of the receiving operators
is compelled to "break" the sending operator for any
reason, the "break" causes the interruption of the
work of eight operators, instead of two, as would be
the case on a single wire. The working efficiency of
the quadruplex, therefore, with the apparatus in good
working condition, depends entirely upon the skill
of the operators employed to operate it. But this
does not reflect upon or diminish the ingenuity required
for its invention. Speaking of the problem
involved, Edison said some years later to Mr. Upton,
his mathematical assistant, that "he always considered
he was only working from one room to another.
Thus he was not confused by the amount of wire and
the thought of distance."

The immense difficulties of reducing such a system
to practice may be readily conceived, especially when
it is remembered that the "line" itself, running across
hundreds of miles of country, is subject to all manner
of atmospheric conditions, and varies from moment
to moment in its ability to carry current, and also
when it is borne in mind that the quadruplex requires
at each end of the line a so-called "artificial line,"
which must have the exact resistance of the working
line and must be varied with the variations in resistance
of the working line. At this juncture other
schemes were fermenting in his brain; but the
quadruplex engrossed him. "This problem was of most
difficult and complicated kind, and I bent all my
energies toward its solution. It required a peculiar
effort of the mind, such as the imagining of eight
different things moving simultaneously on a mental
plane, without anything to demonstrate their
efficiency." It is perhaps hardly to be wondered at
that when notified he would have to pay 12 1/2 per cent.
extra if his taxes in Newark were not at once paid,
he actually forgot his own name when asked for it
suddenly at the City Hall, lost his place in the line,
and, the fatal hour striking, had to pay the surcharge
after all!

So important an invention as the quadruplex could
not long go begging, but there were many difficulties
connected with its introduction, some of which are
best described in Mr. Edison's own words: "Around
1873 the owners of the Automatic Telegraph Company
commenced negotiations with Jay Gould for
the purchase of the wires between New York and
Washington, and the patents for the system, then in
successful operation. Jay Gould at that time controlled
the Atlantic & Pacific Telegraph Company,
and was competing with the Western Union and
endeavoring to depress Western Union stock on the
Exchange. About this time I invented the quadruplex.
I wanted to interest the Western Union Telegraph
Company in it, with a view of selling it, but
was unsuccessful until I made an arrangement with
the chief electrician of the company, so that he could
be known as a joint inventor and receive a portion of
the money. At that time I was very short of money,
and needed it more than glory. This electrician
appeared to want glory more than money, so it was an
easy trade. I brought my apparatus over and was
given a separate room with a marble-tiled floor,
which, by-the-way, was a very hard kind of floor to
sleep on, and started in putting on the finishing
touches.

"After two months of very hard work, I got a
detail at regular times of eight operators, and we
got it working nicely from one room to another over
a wire which ran to Albany and back. Under certain
conditions of weather, one side of the quadruplex
would work very shakily, and I had not succeeded
in ascertaining the cause of the trouble. On a certain
day, when there was a board meeting of the company,
I was to make an exhibition test. The day arrived.
I had picked the best operators in New York, and
they were familiar with the apparatus. I arranged
that if a storm occurred, and the bad side got shaky,
they should do the best they could and draw freely
on their imaginations. They were sending old messages.
About 1, o'clock everything went wrong, as
there was a storm somewhere near Albany, and the
bad side got shaky. Mr. Orton, the president, and
Wm. H. Vanderbilt and the other directors came in.
I had my heart trying to climb up around my oesophagus.
I was paying a sheriff five dollars a day to
withhold judgment which had been entered against
me in a case which I had paid no attention to; and if
the quadruplex had not worked before the president,
I knew I was to have trouble and might lose my
machinery. The New York Times came out next
day with a full account. I was given $5000 as part
payment for the invention, which made me easy, and
I expected the whole thing would be closed up. But
Mr. Orton went on an extended tour just about that
time. I had paid for all the experiments on the
quadruplex and exhausted the money, and I was
again in straits. In the mean time I had introduced
the apparatus on the lines of the company, where it
was very successful.

"At that time the general superintendent of the
Western Union was Gen. T. T. Eckert (who had been
Assistant Secretary of War with Stanton). Eckert
was secretly negotiating with Gould to leave the
Western Union and take charge of the Atlantic &
Pacific--Gould's company. One day Eckert called
me into his office and made inquiries about money
matters. I told him Mr. Orton had gone off and left
me without means, and I was in straits. He told me
I would never get another cent, but that he knew a
man who would buy it. I told him of my arrangement
with the electrician, and said I could not sell
it as a whole to anybody; but if I got enough for it,
I would sell all my interest in any SHARE I might have.
He seemed to think his party would agree to this. I
had a set of quadruplex over in my shop, 10 and 12
Ward Street, Newark, and he arranged to bring him
over next evening to see the apparatus. So the next
morning Eckert came over with Jay Gould and
introduced him to me. This was the first time I had
ever seen him. I exhibited and explained the
apparatus, and they departed. The next day Eckert
sent for me, and I was taken up to Gould's house,
which was near the Windsor Hotel, Fifth Avenue.
In the basement he had an office. It was in the
evening, and we went in by the servants' entrance,
as Eckert probably feared that he was watched.
Gould started in at once and asked me how much I
wanted. I said: `Make me an offer.' Then he said:
`I will give you $30,000.' I said: `I will sell any
interest I may have for that money,' which was something
more than I thought I could get. The next
morning I went with Gould to the office of his lawyers,
Sherman & Sterling, and received a check for
$30,000, with a remark by Gould that I had got the
steamboat Plymouth Rock, as he had sold her for
$30,000 and had just received the check. There
was a big fight on between Gould's company and the
Western Union, and this caused more litigation.
The electrician, on account of the testimony involved,
lost his glory. The judge never decided the case,
but went crazy a few months afterward." It was
obviously a characteristically shrewd move on the
part of Mr. Gould to secure an interest in the quadruplex,
as a factor in his campaign against the Western
Union, and as a decisive step toward his control of
that system, by the subsequent merger that included
not only the Atlantic & Pacific Telegraph Company,
but the American Union Telegraph Company.

Nor was Mr. Gould less appreciative of the value of
Edison's automatic system. Referring to matters
that will be taken up later in the narrative, Edison
says: "After this Gould wanted me to help install the
automatic system in the Atlantic & Pacific company,
of which General Eckert had been elected president,
the company having bought the Automatic Telegraph
Company. I did a lot of work for this company
making automatic apparatus in my shop at Newark.
About this time I invented a district messenger call-
box system, and organized a company called the
Domestic Telegraph Company, and started in to install
the system in New York. I had great difficulty
in getting subscribers, having tried several canvassers,
who, one after the other, failed to get sub-
scribers. When I was about to give it up, a test
operator named Brown, who was on the Automatic
Telegraph wire between New York and Washington,
which passed through my Newark shop, asked permission
to let him try and see if he couldn't get subscribers.
I had very little faith in his ability to get
any, but I thought I would give him a chance, as he
felt certain of his ability to succeed. He started in,
and the results were surprising. Within a month he
had procured two hundred subscribers, and the company
was a success. I have never quite understood
why six men should fail absolutely, while the seventh
man should succeed. Perhaps hypnotism would
account for it. This company was sold out to the
Atlantic & Pacific company." As far back as 1872,
Edison had applied for a patent on district messenger
signal boxes, but it was not issued until
January, 1874, another patent being granted in
September of the same year. In this field of telegraph
application, as in others, Edison was a very early
comer, his only predecessor being the fertile and
ingenious Callahan, of stock-ticker fame. The first
president of the Gold & Stock Telegraph Company,
Elisha W. Andrews, had resigned in 1870 in order to
go to England to introduce the stock ticker in London.
He lived in Englewood, New Jersey, and the
very night he had packed his trunk the house was
burglarized. Calling on his nearest friend the next
morning for even a pair of suspenders, Mr. Andrews
was met with regrets of inability, because the burglars
had also been there. A third and fourth friend in
the vicinity was appealed to with the same dishearten-
ing reply of a story of wholesale spoliation. Mr.
Callahan began immediately to devise a system of
protection for Englewood; but at that juncture a
servant-girl who had been for many years with a
family on the Heights in Brooklyn went mad suddenly
and held an aged widow and her daughter as
helpless prisoners for twenty-four hours without
food or water. This incident led to an extension of
the protective idea, and very soon a system was
installed in Brooklyn with one hundred subscribers.
Out of this grew in turn the district messenger system,
for it was just as easy to call a messenger as to sound
a fire-alarm or summon the police. To-day no large
city in America is without a service of this character,
but its function was sharply limited by the introduction
of the telephone.

Returning to the automatic telegraph it is interesting
to note that so long as Edison was associated with
it as a supervising providence it did splendid work,
which renders the later neglect of automatic or
"rapid telegraphy" the more remarkable. Reid's
standard Telegraph in America bears astonishing testimony
on this point in 1880, as follows: "The Atlantic
& Pacific Telegraph Company had twenty-two
automatic stations. These included the chief cities
on the seaboard, Buffalo, Chicago, and Omaha. The
through business during nearly two years was largely
transmitted in this way. Between New York and
Boston two thousand words a minute have been sent.
The perforated paper was prepared at the rate of
twenty words per minute. Whatever its demerits
this system enabled the Atlantic & Pacific company
to handle a much larger business during 1875 and 1876
than it could otherwise have done with its limited
number of wires in their then condition." Mr. Reid
also notes as a very thorough test of the perfect
practicability of the system, that it handled the
President's message, December 3, 1876, of 12,600 words
with complete success. This long message was filed
at Washington at 1.05 and delivered in New York at
2.07. The first 9000 words were transmitted in
forty-five minutes. The perforated strips were prepared
in thirty minutes by ten persons, and duplicated
by nine copyists. But to-day, nearly thirty-
five years later, telegraphy in America is still
practically on a basis of hand transmission!

Of this period and his association with Jay Gould,
some very interesting glimpses are given by Edison.
"While engaged in putting in the automatic system,
I saw a great deal of Gould, and frequently went
uptown to his office to give information. Gould had
no sense of humor. I tried several times to get off
what seemed to me a funny story, but he failed to see
any humor in them. I was very fond of stories, and
had a choice lot, always kept fresh, with which I
could usually throw a man into convulsions. One
afternoon Gould started in to explain the great future
of the Union Pacific Railroad, which he then controlled.
He got a map, and had an immense amount
of statistics. He kept at it for over four hours, and
got very enthusiastic. Why he should explain to me,
a mere inventor, with no capital or standing, I couldn't
make out. He had a peculiar eye, and I made up
my mind that there was a strain of insanity some-
where. This idea was strengthened shortly afterward
when the Western Union raised the monthly
rental of the stock tickers. Gould had one in his
house office, which he watched constantly. This he
had removed, to his great inconvenience, because the
price had been advanced a few dollars! He railed over
it. This struck me as abnormal. I think Gould's
success was due to abnormal development. He certainly
had one trait that all men must have who want
to succeed. He collected every kind of information
and statistics about his schemes, and had all the
data. His connection with men prominent in official
life, of which I was aware, was surprising to me. His
conscience seemed to be atrophied, but that may be
due to the fact that he was contending with men
who never had any to be atrophied. He worked incessantly
until 12 or 1 o'clock at night. He took no
pride in building up an enterprise. He was after
money, and money only. Whether the company
was a success or a failure mattered not to him. After
he had hammered the Western Union through his
opposition company and had tired out Mr. Vanderbilt,
the latter retired from control, and Gould went
in and consolidated his company and controlled the
Western Union. He then repudiated the contract
with the Automatic Telegraph people, and they never
received a cent for their wires or patents, and I lost
three years of very hard labor. But I never had any
grudge against him, because he was so able in his line,
and as long as my part was successful the money with
me was a secondary consideration. When Gould got
the Western Union I knew no further progress in
telegraphy was possible, and I went into other lines."
The truth is that General Eckert was a conservative
--even a reactionary--and being prejudiced like many
other American telegraph managers against "machine
telegraphy," threw out all such improvements.

The course of electrical history has been variegated
by some very remarkable litigation; but none
was ever more extraordinary than that referred to
here as arising from the transfer of the Automatic
Telegraph Company to Mr. Jay Gould and the
Atlantic & Pacific Telegraph Company. The terms
accepted by Colonel Reiff from Mr. Gould, on December
30, 1874, provided that the purchasing telegraph
company should increase its capital to $15,000,000,
of which the Automatic interests were to receive
$4,000,000 for their patents, contracts, etc. The
stock was then selling at about 25, and in the later
consolidation with the Western Union "went in"
at about 60; so that the real purchase price was not
less than $1,000,000 in cash. There was a private
arrangement in writing with Mr. Gould that he was
to receive one-tenth of the "result" to the Automatic
group, and a tenth of the further results secured
at home and abroad. Mr. Gould personally bought
up and gave money and bonds for one or two individual
interests on the above basis, including that
of Harrington, who in his representative capacity
executed assignments to Mr. Gould. But payments
were then stopped, and the other owners were left
without any compensation, although all that belonged
to them in the shape of property and patents
was taken over bodily into Atlantic & Pacific hands,
and never again left them. Attempts at settlement
were made in their behalf, and dragged wearily,
due apparently to the fact that the plans were
blocked by General Eckert, who had in some
manner taken offence at a transaction effected
without his active participation in all the details.
Edison, who became under the agreement the electrician
of the Atlantic & Pacific Telegraph Company,
has testified to the unfriendly attitude assumed toward
him by General Eckert, as president. In a
graphic letter from Menlo Park to Mr. Gould, dated
February 2, 1877, Edison makes a most vigorous and
impassioned complaint of his treatment, "which,
acting cumulatively, was a long, unbroken
disappointment to me"; and he reminds Mr. Gould of
promises made to him the day the transfer had been
effected of Edison's interest in the quadruplex. The
situation was galling to the busy, high-spirited young
inventor, who, moreover, "had to live"; and it led
to his resumption of work for the Western Union
Telegraph Company, which was only too glad to get
him back. Meantime, the saddened and perplexed
Automatic group was left unpaid, and it was not
until 1906, on a bill filed nearly thirty years before,
that Judge Hazel, in the United States Circuit Court for
the Southern District of New York, found strongly
in favor of the claimants and ordered an accounting.
The court held that there had been a most wrongful
appropriation of the patents, including alike those
relating to the automatic, the duplex, and the quadruplex,
all being included in the general arrangement
under which Mr. Gould had held put his tempting
bait of $4,000,000. In the end, however, the complainant
had nothing to show for all his struggle,
as the master who made the accounting set the
damages at one dollar!

Aside from the great value of the quadruplex,
saving millions of dollars, for a share in which Edison
received $30,000, the automatic itself is described
as of considerable utility by Sir William Thomson
in his juror report at the Centennial Exposition of
1876, recommending it for award. This leading
physicist of his age, afterward Lord Kelvin, was an
adept in telegraphy, having made the ocean cable
talk, and he saw in Edison's "American Automatic,"
as exhibited by the Atlantic & Pacific company, a
most meritorious and useful system. With the aid
of Mr. E. H. Johnson he made exhaustive tests, carrying
away with him to Glasgow University the surprising
records that he obtained. His official report
closes thus: "The electromagnetic shunt with soft
iron core, invented by Mr. Edison, utilizing Professor
Henry's discovery of electromagnetic induction in a
single circuit to produce a momentary reversal of the
line current at the instant when the battery is thrown
off and so cut off the chemical marks sharply at the
proper instant, is the electrical secret of the great
speed he has achieved. The main peculiarities of
Mr. Edison's automatic telegraph shortly stated in
conclusion are: (1) the perforator; (2) the contact-
maker; (3) the electromagnetic shunt; and (4) the
ferric cyanide of iron solution. It deserves award as
a very important step in land telegraphy." The attitude
thus disclosed toward Mr. Edison's work was
never changed, except that admiration grew as fresh
inventions were brought forward. To the day of his
death Lord Kelvin remained on terms of warmest
friendship with his American co-laborer, with whose
genius he thus first became acquainted at Philadelphia
in the environment of Franklin.

It is difficult to give any complete idea of the activity
maintained at the Newark shops during these
anxious, harassed years, but the statement that at
one time no fewer than forty-five different inventions
were being worked upon, will furnish some notion of
the incandescent activity of the inventor and his
assistants. The hours were literally endless; and
upon one occasion, when the order was in hand for
a large quantity of stock tickers, Edison locked his
men in until the job had been finished of making
the machine perfect, and "all the bugs taken out,"
which meant sixty hours of unintermitted struggle
with the difficulties. Nor were the problems and inventions
all connected with telegraphy. On the contrary,
Edison's mind welcomed almost any new suggestion
as a relief from the regular work in hand.
Thus: "Toward the latter part of 1875, in the Newark
shop, I invented a device for multiplying copies of
letters, which I sold to Mr. A. B. Dick, of Chicago,
and in the years since it has been universally introduced
throughout the world. It is called the `Mimeograph.'
I also invented devices for and introduced
paraffin paper, now used universally for wrapping up
candy, etc." The mimeograph employs a pointed
stylus, used as in writing with a lead-pencil, which
is moved over a kind of tough prepared paper placed
on a finely grooved steel plate. The writing is thus
traced by means of a series of minute perforations in
the sheet, from which, as a stencil, hundreds of copies
can be made. Such stencils can be prepared on
typewriters. Edison elaborated this principle in two
other forms--one pneumatic and one electric--the
latter being in essence a reciprocating motor. Inside
the barrel of the electric pen a little plunger, carrying
the stylus, travels to and fro at a very high rate
of speed, due to the attraction and repulsion of the
solenoid coils of wire surrounding it; and as the hand
of the writer guides it the pen thus makes its record
in a series of very minute perforations in the paper.
The current from a small battery suffices to energize
the pen, and with the stencil thus made hundreds of
copies of the document can be furnished. As a matter
of fact, as many as three thousand copies have been
made from a single mimeographic stencil of this
character.



CHAPTER IX

THE TELEPHONE, MOTOGRAPH, AND MICROPHONE

A VERY great invention has its own dramatic history.
Episodes full of human interest attend
its development. The periods of weary struggle, the
daring adventure along unknown paths, the clash of
rival claimants, are closely similar to those which
mark the revelation and subjugation of a new continent.
At the close of the epoch of discovery it is
seen that mankind as a whole has made one more
great advance; but in the earlier stages one watched
chiefly the confused vicissitudes of fortune of the
individual pioneers. The great modern art of telephony
has had thus in its beginnings, its evolution,
and its present status as a universal medium of
intercourse, all the elements of surprise, mystery,
swift creation of wealth, tragic interludes, and colossal
battle that can appeal to the imagination and hold
public attention. And in this new electrical industry,
in laying its essential foundations, Edison has
again been one of the dominant figures.

As far back as 1837, the American, Page, discovered
the curious fact that an iron bar, when magnetized
and demagnetized at short intervals of time, emitted
sounds due to the molecular disturbances in the
mass. Philipp Reis, a simple professor in Germany,
utilized this principle in the construction of apparatus
for the transmission of sound; but in the grasp of
the idea he was preceded by Charles Bourseul, a
young French soldier in Algeria, who in 1854, under
the title of "Electrical Telephony," in a Parisian
illustrated paper, gave a brief and lucid description as
follows:


"We know that sounds are made by vibrations, and
are made sensible to the ear by the same vibrations, which
are reproduced by the intervening medium. But the intensity
of the vibrations diminishes very rapidly with the
distance; so that even with the aid of speaking-tubes and
trumpets it is impossible to exceed somewhat narrow
limits. Suppose a man speaks near a movable disk
sufficiently flexible to lose none of the vibrations of the
voice; that this disk alternately makes and breaks the
connection with a battery; you may have at a distance
another disk which will simultaneously execute the same
vibrations.... Any one who is not deaf and dumb may
use this mode of transmission, which would require no
apparatus except an electric battery, two vibrating disks,
and a wire."

This would serve admirably for a portrayal of the
Bell telephone, except that it mentions distinctly
the use of the make-and-break method (i. e., where
the circuit is necessarily opened and closed as in
telegraphy, although, of course, at an enormously
higher rate), which has never proved practical.

So far as is known Bourseul was not practical
enough to try his own suggestion, and never made
a telephone. About 1860, Reis built several forms
of electrical telephonic apparatus, all imitating in
some degree the human ear, with its auditory tube,
tympanum, etc., and examples of the apparatus were
exhibited in public not only in Germany, but in
England. There is a variety of testimony to the
effect that not only musical sounds, but stray words
and phrases, were actually transmitted with mediocre,
casual success. It was impossible, however, to maintain
the devices in adjustment for more than a few
seconds, since the invention depended upon the
make-and-break principle, the circuit being made and
broken every time an impulse-creating sound went
through it, causing the movement of the diaphragm
on which the sound-waves impinged. Reis himself
does not appear to have been sufficiently interested
in the marvellous possibilities of the idea to follow
it up--remarking to the man who bought his telephonic
instruments and tools that he had shown the
world the way. In reality it was not the way, although
a monument erected to his memory at Frankfort
styles him the inventor of the telephone. As
one of the American judges said, in deciding an early
litigation over the invention of the telephone, a hundred
years of Reis would not have given the world
the telephonic art for public use. Many others after
Reis tried to devise practical make-and-break telephones,
and all failed; although their success would
have rendered them very valuable as a means of
fighting the Bell patent. But the method was a good
starting-point, even if it did not indicate the real
path. If Reis had been willing to experiment with
his apparatus so that it did not make-and-break, he
would probably have been the true father of the
telephone, besides giving it the name by which it is
known. It was not necessary to slam the gate open
and shut. All that was required was to keep the
gate closed, and rattle the latch softly. Incidentally
it may be noted that Edison in experimenting with
the Reis transmitter recognized at once the defect
caused by the make-and-break action, and sought
to keep the gap closed by the use, first, of one drop
of water, and later of several drops. But the water
decomposed, and the incurable defect was still there.

The Reis telephone was brought to America by
Dr. P. H. Van der Weyde, a well-known physicist in
his day, and was exhibited by him before a technical
audience at Cooper Union, New York, in 1868, and
described shortly after in the technical press. The
apparatus attracted attention, and a set was secured
by Prof. Joseph Henry for the Smithsonian Institution.
There the famous philosopher showed and explained
it to Alexander Graham Bell, when that
young and persevering Scotch genius went to get
help and data as to harmonic telegraphy, upon which
he was working, and as to transmitting vocal sounds.
Bell took up immediately and energetically the idea
that his two predecessors had dropped--and reached
the goal. In 1875 Bell, who as a student and teacher
of vocal physiology had unusual qualifications for
determining feasible methods of speech transmission,
constructed his first pair of magneto telephones for
such a purpose. In February of 1876 his first telephone
patent was applied for, and in March it was
issued. The first published account of the modern
speaking telephone was a paper read by Bell before
the American Academy of Arts and Sciences in Bos-
ton in May of that year; while at the Centennial
Exposition at Philadelphia the public first gained
any familiarity with it. It was greeted at once with
scientific acclaim and enthusiasm as a distinctly new
and great invention, although at first it was regarded
more as a scientific toy than as a commercially valuable
device.

By an extraordinary coincidence, the very day that
Bell's application for a patent went into the United
States Patent Office, a caveat was filed there by
Elisha Gray, of Chicago, covering the specific idea of
transmitting speech and reproducing it in a telegraphic
circuit "through an instrument capable of
vibrating responsively to all the tones of the human
voice, and by which they are rendered audible." Out
of this incident arose a struggle and a controversy
whose echoes are yet heard as to the legal and moral
rights of the two inventors, the assertion even being
made that one of the most important claims of Gray,
that on a liquid battery transmitter, was surreptitiously
"lifted" into the Bell application, then covering
only the magneto telephone. It was also asserted
that the filing of the Gray caveat antedated by a few
hours the filing of the Bell application. All such issues
when brought to the American courts were brushed
aside, the Bell patent being broadly maintained in
all its remarkable breadth and fullness, embracing
an entire art; but Gray was embittered and chagrined,
and to the last expressed his belief that the
honor and glory should have been his. The path of
Gray to the telephone was a natural one. A Quaker
carpenter who studied five years at Oberlin College,
he took up electrical invention, and brought out
many ingenious devices in rapid succession in the
telegraphic field, including the now universal needle
annunciator for hotels, etc., the useful telautograph,
automatic self-adjusting relays, private-line printers
--leading up to his famous "harmonic" system.
This was based upon the principle that a sound
produced in the presence of a reed or tuning-fork
responding to the sound, and acting as the armature of
a magnet in a closed circuit, would, by induction,
set up electric impulses in the circuit and cause a
distant magnet having a similarly tuned armature to
produce the same tone or note. He also found that
over the same wire at the same time another series
of impulses corresponding to another note could be
sent through the agency of a second set of magnets
without in any way interfering with the first series
of impulses. Building the principle into apparatus,
with a keyboard and vibrating "reeds" before his
magnets, Doctor Gray was able not only to transmit
music by his harmonic telegraph, but went so far as
to send nine different telegraph messages at the
same instant, each set of instruments depending on
its selective note, while any intermediate office could
pick up the message for itself by simply tuning its
relays to the keynote required. Theoretically the
system could be split up into any number of notes
and semi-tones. Practically it served as the basis
of some real telegraphic work, but is not now in use.
Any one can realize, however, that it did not take so
acute and ingenious a mind very long to push forward
to the telephone, as a dangerous competitor
with Bell, who had also, like Edison, been working
assiduously in the field of acoustic and multiple telegraphs.
Seen in the retrospect, the struggle for the
goal at this moment was one of the memorable incidents
in electrical history.

Among the interesting papers filed at the Orange
Laboratory is a lithograph, the size of an ordinary
patent drawing, headed "First Telephone on Record."
The claim thus made goes back to the period
when all was war, and when dispute was hot and rife
as to the actual invention of the telephone. The
device shown, made by Edison in 1875, was actually
included in a caveat filed January 14, 1876, a month
before Bell or Gray. It shows a little solenoid
arrangement, with one end of the plunger attached to
the diaphragm of a speaking or resonating chamber.
Edison states that while the device is crudely capable
of use as a magneto telephone, he did not invent it
for transmitting speech, but as an apparatus for
analyzing the complex waves arising from various
sounds. It was made in pursuance of his investigations
into the subject of harmonic telegraphs. He
did not try the effect of sound-waves produced by
the human voice until Bell came forward a few months
later; but he found then that this device, made in
1875, was capable of use as a telephone. In his testimony
and public utterances Edison has always given
Bell credit for the discovery of the transmission of
articulate speech by talking against a diaphragm
placed in front of an electromagnet; but it is only
proper here to note, in passing, the curious fact that
he had actually produced a device that COULD talk,
prior to 1876, and was therefore very close to Bell,
who took the one great step further. A strong
characterization of the value and importance of the work
done by Edison in the development of the carbon
transmitter will be found in the decision of Judge
Brown in the United States Circuit Court of Appeals,
sitting in Boston, on February 27, 1901, declaring
void the famous Berliner patent of the Bell telephone
system.[5]


[5] See Federal Reporter, vol. 109, p. 976 et seq.


Bell's patent of 1876 was of an all-embracing character,
which only the make-and-break principle, if
practical, could have escaped. It was pointed out
in the patent that Bell discovered the great principle
that electrical undulations induced by the vibrations
of a current produced by sound-waves can be
represented graphically by the same sinusoidal curve
that expresses the original sound vibrations themselves;
or, in other words, that a curve representing
sound vibrations will correspond precisely to a curve
representing electric impulses produced or generated
by those identical sound vibrations--as, for example,
when the latter impinge upon a diaphragm acting
as an armature of an electromagnet, and which by
movement to and fro sets up the electric impulses by
induction. To speak plainly, the electric impulses
correspond in form and character to the sound vibration
which they represent. This reduced to a patent
"claim" governed the art as firmly as a papal bull
for centuries enabled Spain to hold the Western
world. The language of the claim is: "The method
of and apparatus for transmitting vocal or other
sounds telegraphically as herein described, by causing
electrical undulations similar in form to the vibrations
of the air accompanying the said vocal or other
sounds substantially as set forth." It was a long
time, however, before the inclusive nature of this
grant over every possible telephone was understood
or recognized, and litigation for and against the
patent lasted during its entire life. At the outset,
the commercial value of the telephone was little
appreciated by the public, and Bell had the greatest
difficulty in securing capital; but among far-sighted
inventors there was an immediate "rush to the gold
fields." Bell's first apparatus was poor, the results
being described by himself as "unsatisfactory and
discouraging," which was almost as true of the
devices he exhibited at the Philadelphia Centennial.
The new-comers, like Edison, Berliner, Blake, Hughes,
Gray, Dolbear, and others, brought a wealth of ideas,
a fund of mechanical ingenuity, and an inventive
ability which soon made the telephone one of the
most notable gains of the century, and one of the
most valuable additions to human resources. The
work that Edison did was, as usual, marked by
infinite variety of method as well as by the power to
seize on the one needed element of practical success.
Every one of the six million telephones in use in the
United States, and of the other millions in use through
out the world, bears the imprint of his genius, as at
one time the instruments bore his stamped name.
For years his name was branded on every Bell telephone
set, and his patents were a mainstay of what
has been popularly called the "Bell monopoly."
Speaking of his own efforts in this field, Mr. Edison
says:

"In 1876 I started again to experiment for the
Western Union and Mr. Orton. This time it was the
telephone. Bell invented the first telephone, which
consisted of the present receiver, used both as a
transmitter and a receiver (the magneto type). It
was attempted to introduce it commercially, but it
failed on account of its faintness and the extraneous
sounds which came in on its wires from various
causes. Mr. Orton wanted me to take hold of it and
make it commercial. As I had also been working on
a telegraph system employing tuning-forks,
simultaneously with both Bell and Gray, I was pretty
familiar with the subject. I started in, and soon
produced the carbon transmitter, which is now
universally used.

"Tests were made between New York and Philadelphia,
also between New York and Washington,
using regular Western Union wires. The noises were
so great that not a word could be heard with the Bell
receiver when used as a transmitter between New
York and Newark, New Jersey. Mr. Orton and
W. K. Vanderbilt and the board of directors witnessed
and took part in the tests. The Western
Union then put them on private lines. Mr. Theodore
Puskas, of Budapest, Hungary, was the first man
to suggest a telephone exchange, and soon after
exchanges were established. The telephone department
was put in the hands of Hamilton McK. Twombly,
Vanderbilt's ablest son-in-law, who made a success
of it. The Bell company, of Boston, also started an
exchange, and the fight was on, the Western Union
pirating the Bell receiver, and the Boston company
pirating the Western Union transmitter. About this
time I wanted to be taken care of. I threw out hints
of this desire. Then Mr. Orton sent for me. He had
learned that inventors didn't do business by the
regular process, and concluded he would close it
right up. He asked me how much I wanted. I had
made up my mind it was certainly worth $25,000,
if it ever amounted to anything for central-station
work, so that was the sum I had in mind to stick to
and get--obstinately. Still it had been an easy job,
and only required a few months, and I felt a little
shaky and uncertain. So I asked him to make me
an offer. He promptly said he would give me
$100,000. `All right,' I said. `It is yours on one
condition, and that is that you do not pay it all at
once, but pay me at the rate of $6000 per year for
seventeen years'--the life of the patent. He seemed
only too pleased to do this, and it was closed. My
ambition was about four times too large for my
business capacity, and I knew that I would soon
spend this money experimenting if I got it all at
once, so I fixed it that I couldn't. I saved seventeen
years of worry by this stroke."

Thus modestly is told the debut of Edison in the
telephone art, to which with his carbon transmitter
he gave the valuable principle of varying the resistance
of the transmitting circuit with changes in the
pressure, as well as the vital practice of using the
induction coil as a means of increasing the effective
length of the talking circuit. Without these, modern
telephony would not and could not exist.[6] But Edison,
in telephonic work, as in other directions, was
remarkably fertile and prolific. His first inventions
in the art, made in 1875-76, continue through many
later years, including all kinds of carbon instruments
--the water telephone, electrostatic telephone,
condenser telephone, chemical telephone, various
magneto telephones, inertia telephone, mercury telephone,
voltaic pile telephone, musical transmitter, and
the electromotograph. All were actually made and
tested.


[6] Briefly stated, the essential difference between Bell's
telephone and Edison's is this: With the former the sound vibrations
impinge upon a steel diaphragm arranged adjacent to the pole of
a bar electromagnet, whereby the diaphragm acts as an armature,
and by its vibrations induces very weak electric impulses
in the magnetic coil. These impulses, according to Bell's theory,
correspond in form to the sound-waves, and passing over the line
energize the magnet coil at the receiving end, and by varying the
magnetism cause the receiving diaphragm to be similarly vibrated
to reproduce the sounds. A single apparatus is therefore used at
each end, performing the double function of transmitter and receiver.
With Edison's telephone a closed circuit is used on which
is constantly flowing a battery current, and included in that circuit
is a pair of electrodes, one or both of which is of carbon.
These electrodes are always in contact with a certain initial
pressure, so that current will be always flowing over the circuit.
One of the electrodes is connected with the diaphragm on which
the sound-waves impinge, and the vibration of this diaphragm
causes the pressure between the electrodes to be correspondingly
varied, and thereby effects a variation in the current, resulting in
the production of impulses which actuate the receiving magnet.
In other words, with Bell's telephone the sound-waves themselves
generate the electric impulses, which are hence extremely
faint. With the Edison telephone, the sound-waves actuate an
electric valve, so to speak, and permit variations in a current of
any desired strength.

A second distinction between the two telephones is this: With
the Bell apparatus the very weak electric impulses generated by
the vibration of the transmitting diaphragm pass over the entire
line to the receiving end, and in consequence the permissible
length of line is limited to a few miles under ideal conditions.
With Edison's telephone the battery current does not flow on
the main line, but passes through the primary circuit of an
induction coil, by which corresponding impulses of enormously
higher potential are sent out on the main line to the receiving
end. In consequence, the line may be hundreds of miles in
length. No modern telephone system in use to-day lacks these
characteristic features--the varying resistance and the induction
coil.


The principle of the electromotograph was utilized
by Edison in more ways than one, first of all in telegraphy
at this juncture. The well-known Page patent,
which had lingered in the Patent Office for years, had
just been issued, and was considered a formidable
weapon. It related to the use of a retractile spring
to withdraw the armature lever from the magnet of
a telegraph or other relay or sounder, and thus controlled
the art of telegraphy, except in simple circuits.
"There was no known way," remarks Edison,
"whereby this patent could be evaded, and its
possessor would eventually control the use of what
is known as the relay and sounder, and this was vital
to telegraphy. Gould was pounding the Western
Union on the Stock Exchange, disturbing its railroad
contracts, and, being advised by his lawyers that
this patent was of great value, bought it. The moment
Mr. Orton heard this he sent for me and explained
the situation, and wanted me to go to work
immediately and see if I couldn't evade it or discover
some other means that could be used in case Gould
sustained the patent. It seemed a pretty hard job,
because there was no known means of moving a
lever at the other end of a telegraph wire except by
the use of a magnet. I said I would go at it that
night. In experimenting some years previously, I
had discovered a very peculiar phenomenon, and that
was that if a piece of metal connected to a battery
was rubbed over a moistened piece of chalk resting
on a metal connected to the other pole, when the
current passed the friction was greatly diminished.
When the current was reversed the friction was greatly
increased over what it was when no current was
passing. Remembering this, I substituted a piece of
chalk rotated by a small electric motor for the magnet,
and connecting a sounder to a metallic finger
resting on the chalk, the combination claim of Page
was made worthless. A hitherto unknown means was
introduced in the electric art. Two or three of the
devices were made and tested by the company's expert.
Mr. Orton, after he had me sign the patent
application and got it in the Patent Office, wanted
to settle for it at once. He asked my price. Again
I said: `Make me an offer.' Again he named $100,000.
I accepted, providing he would pay it at the
rate of $6000 a year for seventeen years. This was
done, and thus, with the telephone money, I received
$12,000 yearly for that period from the Western
Union Telegraph Company."

A year or two later the motograph cropped up again
in Edison's work in a curious manner. The telephone
was being developed in England, and Edison had
made arrangements with Colonel Gouraud, his old
associate in the automatic telegraph, to represent his
interests. A company was formed, a large number
of instruments were made and sent to Gouraud in
London, and prospects were bright. Then there came
a threat of litigation from the owners of the Bell
patent, and Gouraud found he could not push the
enterprise unless he could avoid using what was asserted
to be an infringement of the Bell receiver.
He cabled for help to Edison, who sent back word
telling him to hold the fort. "I had recourse again,"
says Edison, "to the phenomenon discovered by me
years previous, that the friction of a rubbing electrode
passing over a moist chalk surface was varied by
electricity. I devised a telephone receiver which
was afterward known as the `loud-speaking telephone,'
or `chalk receiver.' There was no magnet,
simply a diaphragm and a cylinder of compressed
chalk about the size of a thimble. A thin spring
connected to the centre of the diaphragm extended
outwardly and rested on the chalk cylinder, and was
pressed against it with a pressure equal to that which
would be due to a weight of about six pounds. The
chalk was rotated by hand. The volume of sound
was very great. A person talking into the carbon
transmitter in New York had his voice so amplified
that he could be heard one thousand feet away in
an open field at Menlo Park. This great excess of
power was due to the fact that the latter came from
the person turning the handle. The voice, instead
of furnishing all the power as with the present receiver,
merely controlled the power, just as an engineer
working a valve would control a powerful
engine.

"I made six of these receivers and sent them in
charge of an expert on the first steamer. They were
welcomed and tested, and shortly afterward I shipped
a hundred more. At the same time I was ordered to
send twenty young men, after teaching them to become
expert. I set up an exchange, around the
laboratory, of ten instruments. I would then go out
and get each one out of order in every conceivable
way, cutting the wires of one, short-circuiting another,
destroying the adjustment of a third, putting
dirt between the electrodes of a fourth, and so on.
A man would be sent to each to find out the trouble.
When he could find the trouble ten consecutive
times, using five minutes each, he was sent to London.
About sixty men were sifted to get twenty.
Before all had arrived, the Bell company there, seeing
we could not be stopped, entered into negotiations
for consolidation. One day I received a cable from
Gouraud offering `30,000' for my interest. I cabled
back I would accept. When the draft came I was
astonished to find it was for L30,000. I had thought
it was dollars."

In regard to this singular and happy conclusion,
Edison makes some interesting comments as to the
attitude of the courts toward inventors, and the
difference between American and English courts. "The
men I sent over were used to establish telephone
exchanges all over the Continent, and some of them
became wealthy. It was among this crowd in London
that Bernard Shaw was employed before he became
famous. The chalk telephone was finally discarded
in favor of the Bell receiver--the latter being
more simple and cheaper. Extensive litigation with
new-comers followed. My carbon-transmitter patent
was sustained, and preserved the monopoly of the
telephone in England for many years. Bell's patent
was not sustained by the courts. Sir Richard Webster,
now Chief-Justice of England, was my counsel,
and sustained all of my patents in England for many
years. Webster has a marvellous capacity for understanding
things scientific; and his address before the
courts was lucidity itself. His brain is highly organized.
My experience with the legal fraternity is
that scientific subjects are distasteful to them, and
it is rare in this country, on account of the system of
trying patent suits, for a judge really to reach the
meat of the controversy, and inventors scarcely ever
get a decision squarely and entirely in their favor.
The fault rests, in my judgment, almost wholly with
the system under which testimony to the extent of
thousands of pages bearing on all conceivable subjects,
many of them having no possible connection
with the invention in dispute, is presented to an over-
worked judge in an hour or two of argument supported
by several hundred pages of briefs; and the
judge is supposed to extract some essence of justice
from this mass of conflicting, blind, and misleading
statements. It is a human impossibility, no matter
how able and fair-minded the judge may be. In
England the case is different. There the judges are
face to face with the experts and other witnesses.
They get the testimony first-hand and only so much as
they need, and there are no long-winded briefs and
arguments, and the case is decided then and there,
a few months perhaps after suit is brought, instead of
many years afterward, as in this country. And in
England, when a case is once finally decided it is
settled for the whole country, while here it is not so.
Here a patent having once been sustained, say, in
Boston, may have to be litigated all over again in
New York, and again in Philadelphia, and so on for
all the Federal circuits. Furthermore, it seems to
me that scientific disputes should be decided by some
court containing at least one or two scientific men--
men capable of comprehending the significance of
an invention and the difficulties of its accomplishment
--if justice is ever to be given to an inventor.
And I think, also, that this court should have the
power to summon before it and examine any recognized
expert in the special art, who might be able to
testify to FACTS for or against the patent, instead of
trying to gather the truth from the tedious essays
of hired experts, whose depositions are really nothing
but sworn arguments. The real gist of patent suits
is generally very simple, and I have no doubt that
any judge of fair intelligence, assisted by one or more
scientific advisers, could in a couple of days at the
most examine all the necessary witnesses; hear all
the necessary arguments, and actually decide an ordinary
patent suit in a way that would more nearly
be just, than can now be done at an expenditure of
a hundred times as much money and months and
years of preparation. And I have no doubt that
the time taken by the court would be enormously
less, because if a judge attempts to read the bulky
records and briefs, that work alone would require
several days.

"Acting as judges, inventors would not be very apt
to correctly decide a complicated law point; and on
the other hand, it is hard to see how a lawyer can
decide a complicated scientific point rightly. Some
inventors complain of our Patent Office, but my own
experience with the Patent Office is that the examiners
are fair-minded and intelligent, and when they
refuse a patent they are generally right; but I think
the whole trouble lies with the system in vogue in the
Federal courts for trying patent suits, and in the fact,
which cannot be disputed, that the Federal judges,
with but few exceptions, do not comprehend complicated
scientific questions. To secure uniformity
in the several Federal circuits and correct errors, it
has been proposed to establish a central court of
patent appeals in Washington. This I believe in;
but this court should also contain at least two scientific
men, who would not be blind to the sophistry of
paid experts.[7] Men whose inventions would have
created wealth of millions have been ruined and
prevented from making any money whereby they could
continue their careers as creators of wealth for the
general good, just because the experts befuddled the
judge by their misleading statements."


[7] As an illustration of the perplexing nature of expert evidence in
patent cases, the reader will probably be interested in perusing
the following extracts from the opinion of Judge Dayton, in the
suit of Bryce Bros. Co. vs. Seneca Glass Co., tried in the United
States Circuit Court, Northern District of West Virginia, reported
in The Federal Reporter, 140, page 161:

"On this subject of the validity of this patent, a vast amount
of conflicting, technical, perplexing, and almost hypercritical
discussion and opinion has been indulged, both in the testimony and
in the able and exhaustive arguments and briefs of counsel.
Expert Osborn for defendant, after setting forth minutely his
superior qualifications mechanical education, and great experience,
takes up in detail the patent claims, and shows to his own
entire satisfaction that none of them are new; that all of them
have been applied, under one form or another, in some twenty-
two previous patents, and in two other machines, not patented,
to-wit, the Central Glass and Kuny Kahbel ones; that the whole
machine is only `an aggregation of well-known mechanical elements
that any skilled designer would bring to his use in the
construction of such a machine.' This certainly, under ordinary
conditions, would settle the matter beyond peradventure; for
this witness is a very wise and learned man in these things, and
very positive. But expert Clarke appears for the plaintiff, and
after setting forth just as minutely his superior qualifications,
mechanical education, and great experience, which appear fully
equal in all respects to those of expert Osborn, proceeds to take
up in detail the patent claims, and shows to his entire satisfaction
that all, with possibly one exception, are new, show inventive
genius, and distinct advances upon the prior art. In the most
lucid, and even fascinating, way he discusses all the parts of this
machine, compares it with the others, draws distinctions, points
out the merits of the one in controversy and the defects of all
the others, considers the twenty-odd patents referred to by
Osborn, and in the politest, but neatest, manner imaginable shows
that expert Osborn did not know what he was talking about, and
sums the whole matter up by declaring this `invention of Mr.
Schrader's, as embodied in the patent in suit, a radical and wide
departure, from the Kahbel machine' (admitted on all sides to be
nearest prior approach to it), `a distinct and important advance
in the art of engraving glassware, and generally a machine for
this purpose which has involved the exercise of the inventive
faculty in the highest degree.'

"Thus a more radical and irreconcilable disagreement between
experts touching the same thing could hardly be found. So it is
with the testimony. If we take that for the defendant, the Central
Glass Company machine, and especially the Kuny Kahbel
machine, built and operated years before this patent issued, and
not patented, are just as good, just as effective and practical, as
this one, and capable of turning out just as perfect work and as
great a variety of it. On the other hand, if we take that produced
by the plaintiff, we are driven to the conclusion that these
prior machines, the product of the same mind, were only progressive
steps forward from utter darkness, so to speak, into full
inventive sunlight, which made clear to him the solution of the
problem in this patented machine. The shortcomings of the
earlier machines are minutely set forth, and the witnesses for the
plaintiff are clear that they are neither practical nor profitable.

"But this is not all of the trouble that confronts us in this
case. Counsel of both sides, with an indomitable courage that
must command admiration, a courage that has led them to a vast
amount of study, investigation, and thought, that in fact has
made them all experts, have dissected this record of 356 closely
printed pages, applied all mechanical principles and laws to the
facts as they see them, and, besides, have ransacked the law-
books and cited an enormous number of cases, more or less in
point, as illustration of their respective contentions. The courts
find nothing more difficult than to apply an abstract principle to
all classes of cases that may arise. The facts in each case so
frequently create an exception to the general rule that such rule
must be honored rather in its breach than in its observance.
Therefore, after a careful examination of these cases, it is no
criticism of the courts to say that both sides have found abundant
and about an equal amount of authority to sustain their
respective contentions, and, as a result, counsel have submitted,
in briefs, a sum total of 225 closely printed pages, in which they
have clearly, yet, almost to a mathematical certainty, demonstrated
on the one side that this Schrader machine is new and
patentable, and on the other that it is old and not so. Under
these circumstances, it would be unnecessary labor and a fruitless
task for me to enter into any further technical discussion of the
mechanical problems involved, for the purpose of seeking to convince
either side of its error. In cases of such perplexity as this
generally some incidents appear that speak more unerringly than
do the tongues of the witnesses, and to some of these I purpose
to now refer."



Mr. Bernard Shaw, the distinguished English author,
has given a most vivid and amusing picture of this
introduction of Edison's telephone into England, describing
the apparatus as "a much too ingenious invention,
being nothing less than a telephone of such
stentorian efficiency that it bellowed your most private
communications all over the house, instead of
whispering them with some sort of discretion." Shaw,
as a young man, was employed by the Edison Telephone
Company, and was very much alive to his
surroundings, often assisting in public demonstra-
tions of the apparatus "in a manner which I am
persuaded laid the foundation of Mr. Edison's
reputation." The sketch of the men sent over from
America is graphic: "Whilst the Edison Telephone
Company lasted it crowded the basement of a high
pile of offices in Queen Victoria Street with American
artificers. These deluded and romantic men gave
me a glimpse of the skilled proletariat of the United
States. They sang obsolete sentimental songs with
genuine emotion; and their language was frightful
even to an Irishman. They worked with a ferocious
energy which was out of all proportion to the actual
result achieved. Indomitably resolved to assert their
republican manhood by taking no orders from a tall-
hatted Englishman whose stiff politeness covered
his conviction that they were relatively to himself
inferior and common persons, they insisted on being
slave-driven with genuine American oaths by a
genuine free and equal American foreman. They
utterly despised the artfully slow British workman,
who did as little for his wages as he possibly could;
never hurried himself; and had a deep reverence for
one whose pocket could be tapped by respectful
behavior. Need I add that they were contemptuously
wondered at by this same British workman as
a parcel of outlandish adult boys who sweated themselves
for their employer's benefit instead of looking
after their own interest? They adored Mr. Edison as
the greatest man of all time in every possible department
of science, art, and philosophy, and execrated
Mr. Graham Bell, the inventor of the rival telephone,
as his Satanic adversary; but each of them had (or
intended to have) on the brink of completion an improvement
on the telephone, usually a new transmitter.
They were free-souled creatures, excellent
company, sensitive, cheerful, and profane; liars,
braggarts, and hustlers, with an air of making slow
old England hum, which never left them even when,
as often happened, they were wrestling with difficulties
of their own making, or struggling in no-
thoroughfares, from which they had to be retrieved
like stray sheep by Englishmen without imagination
enough to go wrong."

Mr. Samuel Insull, who afterward became private
secretary to Mr. Edison, and a leader in the development
of American electrical manufacturing and the
central-station art, was also in close touch with the
London situation thus depicted, being at the time
private secretary to Colonel Gouraud, and acting for
the first half hour as the amateur telephone operator
in the first experimental exchange erected in Europe.
He took notes of an early meeting where the affairs of
the company were discussed by leading men like Sir
John Lubbock (Lord Avebury) and the Right Hon.
E. P. Bouverie (then a cabinet minister), none of
whom could see in the telephone much more than an
auxiliary for getting out promptly in the next morning's
papers the midnight debates in Parliament. "I
remember another incident," says Mr. Insull. "It
was at some celebration of one of the Royal Societies
at the Burlington House, Piccadilly. We had a telephone
line running across the roofs to the basement
of the building. I think it was to Tyndall's laboratory
in Burlington Street. As the ladies and gentle-
men came through, they naturally wanted to look
at the great curiosity, the loud-speaking telephone: in
fact, any telephone was a curiosity then. Mr. and
Mrs. Gladstone came through. I was handling the
telephone at the Burlington House end. Mrs. Gladstone
asked the man over the telephone whether he
knew if a man or woman was speaking; and the
reply came in quite loud tones that it was a
man!"

With Mr. E. H. Johnson, who represented Edison,
there went to England for the furtherance of this
telephone enterprise, Mr. Charles Edison, a nephew of
the inventor. He died in Paris, October, 1879, not
twenty years of age. Stimulated by the example of
his uncle, this brilliant youth had already made a
mark for himself as a student and inventor, and when
only eighteen he secured in open competition the contract
to install a complete fire-alarm telegraph system
for Port Huron. A few months later he was eagerly
welcomed by his uncle at Menlo Park, and after working
on the telephone was sent to London to aid in its
introduction. There he made the acquaintance of
Professor Tyndall, exhibited the telephone to the
late King of England; and also won the friendship
of the late King of the Belgians, with whom he took
up the project of establishing telephonic communication
between Belgium and England. At the time
of his premature death he was engaged in installing
the Edison quadruplex between Brussels and Paris,
being one of the very few persons then in Europe
familiar with the working of that invention.

Meantime, the telephonic art in America was
undergoing very rapid development. In March,
1878, addressing "the capitalists of the Electric
Telephone Company" on the future of his invention,
Bell outlined with prophetic foresight and remarkable
clearness the coming of the modern telephone
exchange. Comparing with gas and water distribution,
he said: "In a similar manner, it is conceivable
that cables of telephone wires could be laid underground
or suspended overhead communicating by
branch wires with private dwellings, country houses,
shops, manufactories, etc., uniting them through the
main cable with a central office, where the wire could
be connected as desired, establishing direct
communication between any two places in the city....
Not only so, but I believe, in the future, wires will
unite the head offices of telephone companies in different
cities; and a man in one part of the country
may communicate by word of mouth with another
in a distant place."

All of which has come to pass. Professor Bell also
suggested how this could be done by "the employ of
a man in each central office for the purpose of connecting
the wires as directed." He also indicated the
two methods of telephonic tariff--a fixed rental and
a toll; and mentioned the practice, now in use on
long-distance lines, of a time charge. As a matter
of fact, this "centralizing" was attempted in May,
1877, in Boston, with the circuits of the Holmes
burglar-alarm system, four banking-houses being thus
interconnected; while in January of 1878 the Bell
telephone central-office system at New Haven, Connecticut,
was opened for business, "the first fully
equipped commercial telephone exchange ever established
for public or general service."

All through this formative period Bell had adhered
to and introduced the magneto form of telephone,
now used only as a receiver, and very poorly adapted
for the vital function of a speech-transmitter. From
August, 1877, the Western Union Telegraph Company
worked along the other line, and in 1878,
with its allied Gold & Stock Telegraph Company, it
brought into existence the American Speaking Telephone
Company to introduce the Edison apparatus,
and to create telephone exchanges all over the country.
In this warfare, the possession of a good battery
transmitter counted very heavily in favor of the
Western Union, for upon that the real expansion of
the whole industry depended; but in a few months
the Bell system had its battery transmitter, too,
tending to equalize matters. Late in the same year
patent litigation was begun which brought out clearly
the merits of Bell, through his patent, as the original
and first inventor of the electric speaking telephone;
and the Western Union Telegraph Company made
terms with its rival. A famous contract bearing
date of November 10, 1879, showed that under the
Edison and other controlling patents the Western
Union Company had already set going some eighty-
five exchanges, and was making large quantities of
telephonic apparatus. In return for its voluntary
retirement from the telephonic field, the Western
Union Telegraph Company, under this contract, received
a royalty of 20 per cent. of all the telephone
earnings of the Bell system while the Bell patents
ran; and thus came to enjoy an annual income of
several hundred thousand dollars for some years, based
chiefly on its modest investment in Edison's work.
It was also paid several thousand dollars in cash for
the Edison, Phelps, Gray, and other apparatus on
hand. It secured further 40 per cent. of the stock
of the local telephone systems of New York and
Chicago; and last, but by no means least, it exacted
from the Bell interests an agreement to stay out of
the telegraph field.

By March, 1881, there were in the United States
only nine cities of more than ten thousand inhabitants,
and only one of more than fifteen thousand,
without a telephone exchange. The industry thrived
under competition, and the absence of it now had a
decided effect in checking growth; for when the
Bell patent expired in 1893, the total of telephone sets
in operation in the United States was only 291,253.
To quote from an official Bell statement:


"The brief but vigorous Western Union competition
was a kind of blessing in disguise. The very fact that
two distinct interests were actively engaged in the work
of organizing and establishing competing telephone
exchanges all over the country, greatly facilitated the
spread of the idea and the growth of the business, and
familiarized the people with the use of the telephone as a
business agency; while the keenness of the competition,
extending to the agents and employees of both companies,
brought about a swift but quite unforeseen and unlooked-
for expansion in the individual exchanges of the larger
cities, and a corresponding advance in their importance,
value, and usefulness."

The truth of this was immediately shown in 1894,
after the Bell patents had expired, by the tremendous
outburst of new competitive activity, in "independent"
country systems and toll lines through
sparsely settled districts--work for which the Edison
apparatus and methods were peculiarly adapted, yet
against which the influence of the Edison patent
was invoked. The data secured by the United States
Census Office in 1902 showed that the whole industry
had made gigantic leaps in eight years, and had
2,371,044 telephone stations in service, of which
1,053,866 were wholly or nominally independent of
the Bell. By 1907 an even more notable increase
was shown, and the Census figures for that year
included no fewer than 6,118,578 stations, of which
1,986,575 were "independent." These six million
instruments every single set employing the principle
of the carbon transmitter--were grouped into 15,527
public exchanges, in the very manner predicted by
Bell thirty years before, and they gave service in the
shape of over eleven billions of talks. The outstanding
capitalized value of the plant was $814,616,004,
the income for the year was nearly $185,000,000, and
the people employed were 140,000. If Edison had
done nothing else, his share in the creation of such
an industry would have entitled him to a high place
among inventors.

This chapter is of necessity brief in its reference to
many extremely interesting points and details; and
to some readers it may seem incomplete in its references
to the work of other men than Edison, whose
influence on telephony as an art has also been con-
siderable. In reply to this pertinent criticism, it
may be pointed out that this is a life of Edison, and
not of any one else; and that even the discussion of
his achievements alone in these various fields
requires more space than the authors have at their
disposal. The attempt has been made, however, to
indicate the course of events and deal fairly with the
facts. The controversy that once waged with great
excitement over the invention of the microphone,
but has long since died away, is suggestive of the
difficulties involved in trying to do justice to everybody.
A standard history describes the microphone
thus:


"A form of apparatus produced during the early days
of the telephone by Professor Hughes, of England, for
the purpose of rendering faint, indistinct sounds distinctly
audible, depended for its operation on the changes that
result in the resistance of loose contacts. This apparatus
was called the microphone, and was in reality but one of
the many forms that it is possible to give to the telephone
transmitter. For example, the Edison granular transmitter
was a variety of microphone, as was also Edison's
transmitter, in which the solid button of carbon was employed.
Indeed, even the platinum point, which in the
early form of the Reis transmitter pressed against the
platinum contact cemented to the centre of the diaphragm,
was a microphone."

At a time when most people were amazed at the idea
of hearing, with the aid of a "microphone," a fly walk
at a distance of many miles, the priority of invention
of such a device was hotly disputed. Yet without
desiring to take anything from the credit of the
brilliant American, Hughes, whose telegraphic apparatus
is still in use all over Europe, it may be
pointed out that this passage gives Edison the attribution
of at least two original forms of which those
suggested by Hughes were mere variations and modifications.
With regard to this matter, Mr. Edison
himself remarks: "After I sent one of my men over
to London especially, to show Preece the carbon
transmitter, and where Hughes first saw it, and
heard it--then within a month he came out with the
microphone, without any acknowledgment whatever.
Published dates will show that Hughes came along
after me."

There have been other ways also in which Edison
has utilized the peculiar property that carbon possesses
of altering its resistance to the passage of current,
according to the pressure to which it is subjected,
whether at the surface, or through closer union
of the mass. A loose road with a few inches of dust
or pebbles on it offers appreciable resistance to the
wheels of vehicles travelling over it; but if the surface
is kept hard and smooth the effect is quite different.
In the same way carbon, whether solid or
in the shape of finely divided powder, offers a high
resistance to the passage of electricity; but if the
carbon is squeezed together the conditions change,
with less resistance to electricity in the circuit.
For his quadruplex system, Mr. Edison utilized this
fact in the construction of a rheostat or resistance
box. It consists of a series of silk disks saturated
with a sizing of plumbago and well dried. The disks
are compressed by means of an adjustable screw; and
in this manner the resistance of a circuit can be varied
over a wide range.

In like manner Edison developed a "pressure" or
carbon relay, adapted to the transference of signals
of variable strength from one circuit to another. An
ordinary relay consists of an electromagnet inserted
in the main line for telegraphing, which brings a local
battery and sounder circuit into play, reproducing
in the local circuit the signals sent over the main line.
The relay is adjusted to the weaker currents likely to
be received, but the signals reproduced on the sounder
by the agency of the relay are, of course, all of equal
strength, as they depend upon the local battery,
which has only this steady work to perform. In
cases where it is desirable to reproduce the signals in
the local circuit with the same variations in strength
as they are received by the relay, the Edison carbon
pressure relay does the work. The poles of the
electromagnet in the local circuit are hollowed out
and filled up with carbon disks or powdered plumbago.
The armature and the carbon-tipped poles of
the electromagnet form part of the local circuit; and
if the relay is actuated by a weak current the armature
will be attracted but feebly. The carbon being only
slightly compressed will offer considerable resistance
to the flow of current from the local battery, and
therefore the signal on the local sounder will be weak.
If, on the contrary, the incoming current on the main
line be strong, the armature will be strongly attracted,
the carbon will be sharply compressed, the resistance
in the local circuit will be proportionately lowered,
and the signal heard on the local sounder will be a
loud one. Thus it will be seen, by another clever
juggle with the willing agent, carbon, for which he
has found so many duties, Edison is able to transfer
or transmit exactly, to the local circuit, the main-line
current in all its minutest variations.

In his researches to determine the nature of the
motograph phenomena, and to open up other sources
of electrical current generation, Edison has worked
out a very ingenious and somewhat perplexing piece
of apparatus known as the "chalk battery." It consists
of a series of chalk cylinders mounted on a shaft
revolved by hand. Resting against each of these
cylinders is a palladium-faced spring, and similar
springs make contact with the shaft between each
cylinder. By connecting all these springs in circuit
with a galvanometer and revolving the shaft rapidly,
a notable deflection is obtained of the galvanometer
needle, indicating the production of electrical energy.
The reason for this does not appear to have been
determined.

Last but not least, in this beautiful and ingenious
series, comes the "tasimeter," an instrument of most
delicate sensibility in the presence of heat. The
name is derived from the Greek, the use of the apparatus
being primarily to measure extremely minute
differences of pressure. A strip of hard rubber with
pointed ends rests perpendicularly on a platinum
plate, beneath which is a carbon button, under which
again lies another platinum plate. The two plates
and the carbon button form part of an electric circuit
containing a battery and a galvanometer. The
hard-rubber strip is exceedingly sensitive to heat.
The slightest degree of heat imparted to it causes it
to expand invisibly, thus increasing the pressure contact
on the carbon button and producing a variation
in the resistance of the circuit, registered immediately
by the little swinging needle of the galvanometer.
The instrument is so sensitive that with a delicate
galvanometer it will show the impingement of the
heat from a person's hand thirty feet away. The
suggestion to employ such an apparatus in astronomical
observations occurs at once, and it may be
noted that in one instance the heat of rays of light
from the remote star Arcturus gave results.



CHAPTER X

THE PHONOGRAPH

AT the opening of the Electrical Show in New
York City in October, 1908, to celebrate the
jubilee of the Atlantic Cable and the first quarter
century of lighting with the Edison service on
Manhattan Island, the exercises were all conducted by
means of the Edison phonograph. This included the
dedicatory speech of Governor Hughes, of New York;
the modest remarks of Mr. Edison, as president; the
congratulations of the presidents of several national
electric bodies, and a number of vocal and instrumental
selections of operatic nature. All this was
heard clearly by a very large audience, and was
repeated on other evenings. The same speeches were
used again phonographically at the Electrical Show
in Chicago in 1909--and now the records are
preserved for reproduction a hundred or a thousand
years hence. This tour de force, never attempted
before, was merely an exemplification of the value of
the phonograph not only in establishing at first hand
the facts of history, but in preserving the human
voice. What would we not give to listen to the very
accents and tones of the Sermon on the Mount, the
orations of Demosthenes, the first Pitt's appeal for
American liberty, the Farewell of Washington, or the
Address at Gettysburg? Until Edison made his wonderful
invention in 1877, the human race was entirely
without means for preserving or passing on to posterity
its own linguistic utterances or any other vocal
sound. We have some idea how the ancients looked
and felt and wrote; the abundant evidence takes us
back to the cave-dwellers. But all the old languages
are dead, and the literary form is their embalmment.
We do not even know definitely how Shakespeare's
and Goldsmith's plays were pronounced on the stage
in the theatres of the time; while it is only a guess
that perhaps Chaucer would sound much more modern
than he scans.

The analysis of sound, which owes so much to
Helmholtz, was one step toward recording; and the
various means of illustrating the phenomena of sound
to the eye and ear, prior to the phonograph, were all
ingenious. One can watch the dancing little flames
of Koenig, and see a voice expressed in tongues of
fire; but the record can only be photographic. In
like manner, the simple phonautograph of Leon Scott,
invented about 1858, records on a revolving cylinder
of blackened paper the sound vibrations transmitted
through a membrane to which a tiny stylus is attached;
so that a human mouth uses a pen and inscribes
its sign vocal. Yet after all we are just as
far away as ever from enabling the young actors at
Harvard to give Aristophanes with all the true, subtle
intonation and inflection of the Athens of 400 B.C.
The instrument is dumb. Ingenuity has been shown
also in the invention of "talking-machines," like
Faber's, based on the reed organ pipe. These autom-
ata can be made by dexterous manipulation to jabber
a little, like a doll with its monotonous "ma-ma," or
a cuckoo clock; but they lack even the sterile utility
of the imitative art of ventriloquism. The real great
invention lies in creating devices that shall be able
to evoke from tinfoil, wax, or composition at any
time to-day or in the future the sound that once was
as evanescent as the vibrations it made on the air.

Contrary to the general notion, very few of the
great modern inventions have been the result of a
sudden inspiration by which, Minerva-like, they have
sprung full-fledged from their creators' brain; but,
on the contrary, they have been evolved by slow and
gradual steps, so that frequently the final advance
has been often almost imperceptible. The Edison
phonograph is an important exception to the general
rule; not, of course, the phonograph of the present
day with all of its mechanical perfection, but as an
instrument capable of recording and reproducing
sound. Its invention has been frequently attributed
to the discovery that a point attached to a telephone
diaphragm would, under the effect of sound-waves,
vibrate with sufficient force to prick the finger. The
story, though interesting, is not founded on fact;
but, if true, it is difficult to see how the discovery in
question could have contributed materially to the
ultimate accomplishment. To a man of Edison's perception
it is absurd to suppose that the effect of the
so-called discovery would not have been made as a
matter of deduction long before the physical sensation
was experienced. As a matter of fact, the invention
of the phonograph was the result of pure reason.
Some time prior to 1877, Edison had been experimenting
on an automatic telegraph in which the
letters were formed by embossing strips of paper
with the proper arrangement of dots and dashes.
By drawing this strip beneath a contact lever, the
latter was actuated so as to control the circuits and
send the desired signals over the line. It was observed
that when the strip was moved very rapidly
the vibration of the lever resulted in the production
of an audible note. With these facts before him,
Edison reasoned that if the paper strip could be imprinted
with elevations and depressions representative
of sound-waves, they might be caused to actuate a
diaphragm so as to reproduce the corresponding
sounds. The next step in the line of development
was to form the necessary undulations on the strip,
and it was then reasoned that original sounds themselves
might be utilized to form a graphic record by
actuating a diaphragm and causing a cutting or indenting
point carried thereby to vibrate in contact
with a moving surface, so as to cut or indent the
record therein. Strange as it may seem, therefore,
and contrary to the general belief, the phonograph
was developed backward, the production of the sounds
being of prior development to the idea of actually
recording them.

Mr. Edison's own account of the invention of the
phonograph is intensely interesting. "I was
experimenting," he says, "on an automatic method of
recording telegraph messages on a disk of paper laid
on a revolving platen, exactly the same as the disk
talking-machine of to-day. The platen had a spiral
groove on its surface, like the disk. Over this was
placed a circular disk of paper; an electromagnet
with the embossing point connected to an arm
travelled over the disk; and any signals given
through the magnets were embossed on the disk of
paper. If this disk was removed from the machine
and put on a similar machine provided with a contact
point, the embossed record would cause the
signals to be repeated into another wire. The ordinary
speed of telegraphic signals is thirty-five to
forty words a minute; but with this machine several
hundred words were possible.

"From my experiments on the telephone I knew
of the power of a diaphragm to take up sound vibrations,
as I had made a little toy which, when you
recited loudly in the funnel, would work a pawl connected
to the diaphragm; and this engaging a ratchet-
wheel served to give continuous rotation to a pulley.
This pulley was connected by a cord to a little paper
toy representing a man sawing wood. Hence, if one
shouted: `Mary had a little lamb,' etc., the paper
man would start sawing wood. I reached the conclusion
that if I could record the movements of the
diaphragm properly, I could cause such record to
reproduce the original movements imparted to the
diaphragm by the voice, and thus succeed in recording
and reproducing the human voice.

"Instead of using a disk I designed a little machine
using a cylinder provided with grooves around the
surface. Over this was to be placed tinfoil, which
easily received and recorded the movements of the
diaphragm. A sketch was made, and the piece-work
price, $18, was marked on the sketch. I was in the
habit of marking the price I would pay on each
sketch. If the workman lost, I would pay his regular
wages; if he made more than the wages, he kept it.
The workman who got the sketch was John Kruesi.
I didn't have much faith that it would work, expecting
that I might possibly hear a word or so that
would give hope of a future for the idea. Kruesi,
when he had nearly finished it, asked what it was for.
I told him I was going to record talking, and then
have the machine talk back. He thought it absurd.
However, it was finished, the foil was put on; I then
shouted `Mary had a little lamb,' etc. I adjusted the
reproducer, and the machine reproduced it perfectly.
I was never so taken aback in my life. Everybody
was astonished. I was always afraid of things that
worked the first time. Long experience proved that
there were great drawbacks found generally before
they could be got commercial; but here was something
there was no doubt of."

No wonder that honest John Kruesi, as he stood
and listened to the marvellous performance of the
simple little machine he had himself just finished,
ejaculated in an awe-stricken tone: "Mein Gott im
Himmel!" And yet he had already seen Edison do
a few clever things. No wonder they sat up all night
fixing and adjusting it so as to get better and better
results--reciting and singing, trying each other's
voices, and then listening with involuntary awe as
the words came back again and again, just as long
as they were willing to revolve the little cylinder
with its dotted spiral indentations in the tinfoil under
the vibrating stylus of the reproducing diaphragm.
It took a little time to acquire the knack of turning
the crank steadily while leaning over the recorder to
talk into the machine; and there was some deftness
required also in fastening down the tinfoil on the
cylinder where it was held by a pin running in a
longitudinal slot. Paraffined paper appears also to
have been experimented with as an impressible
material. It is said that Carman, the foreman of the
machine shop, had gone the length of wagering Edison
a box of cigars that the device would not work. All
the world knows that he lost.

The original Edison phonograph thus built by
Kruesi is preserved in the South Kensington Museum,
London. That repository can certainly have no
greater treasure of its kind. But as to its immediate
use, the inventor says: "That morning I took it over
to New York and walked into the office of the Scientific
American, went up to Mr. Beach's desk, and said I
had something to show him. He asked what it was.
I told him I had a machine that would record and
reproduce the human voice. I opened the package,
set up the machine and recited, `Mary had a little
lamb,' etc. Then I reproduced it so that it could
be heard all over the room. They kept me at it until
the crowd got so great Mr. Beach was afraid the
floor would collapse; and we were compelled to stop.
The papers next morning contained columns. None
of the writers seemed to understand how it was done.
I tried to explain, it was so very simple, but the results
were so surprising they made up their minds probably
that they never would understand it--and they didn't.

"I started immediately making several larger and
better machines, which I exhibited at Menlo Park to
crowds. The Pennsylvania Railroad ran special
trains. Washington people telegraphed me to come
on. I took a phonograph to Washington and exhibited
it in the room of James G. Blaine's niece
(Gail Hamilton); and members of Congress and
notable people of that city came all day long until
late in the evening. I made one break. I recited
`Mary,' etc., and another ditty:

 `There was a little girl, who had a little curl
     Right in the middle of her forehead;
 And when she was good she was very, very good,
     But when she was bad she was horrid.'

It will be remembered that Senator Roscoe Conkling,
then very prominent, had a curl of hair on his forehead;
and all the caricaturists developed it abnormally.
He was very sensitive about the subject.
When he came in he was introduced; but being rather
deaf, I didn't catch his name, but sat down and
started the curl ditty. Everybody tittered, and I
was told that Mr. Conkling was displeased. About
11 o'clock at night word was received from President
Hayes that he would be very much pleased if I would
come up to the White House. I was taken there,
and found Mr. Hayes and several others waiting.
Among them I remember Carl Schurz, who was playing
the piano when I entered the room. The exhibition
continued till about 12.30 A.M., when Mrs. Hayes
and several other ladies, who had been induced to
get up and dress, appeared. I left at 3.30 A,M,

"For a long time some people thought there was
trickery. One morning at Menlo Park a gentleman
came to the laboratory and asked to see the phonograph.
It was Bishop Vincent, who helped Lewis
Miller found the Chautauqua I exhibited it, and
then he asked if he could speak a few words. I put
on a fresh foil and told him to go ahead. He
commenced to recite Biblical names with immense
rapidity. On reproducing it he said: `I am satisfied,
now. There isn't a man in the United States who
could recite those names with the same rapidity.' "

The phonograph was now fairly launched as a
world sensation, and a reference to the newspapers
of 1878 will show the extent to which it and Edison
were themes of universal discussion. Some of the
press notices of the period were most amazing--and
amusing. As though the real achievements of
this young man, barely thirty, were not tangible
and solid enough to justify admiration of his genius,
the "yellow journalists" of the period began busily
to create an "Edison myth," with gross absurdities of
assertion and attribution from which the modest
subject of it all has not yet ceased to suffer with
unthinking people. A brilliantly vicious example of
this method of treatment is to be found in the Paris
Figaro of that year, which under the appropriate
title of "This Astounding Eddison" lay bare before
the French public the most startling revelations as
to the inventor's life and character. "It should be
understood," said this journal, "that Mr. Eddison
does not belong to himself. He is the property of
the telegraph company which lodges him in New
York at a superb hotel; keeps him on a luxurious
footing, and pays him a formidable salary so as to
be the one to know of and profit by his discoveries.
The company has, in the dwelling of Eddison,
men in its employ who do not quit him for a
moment, at the table, on the street, in the laboratory.
So that this wretched man, watched more
closely than ever was any malefactor, cannot even
give a moment's thought to his own private affairs
without one of his guards asking him what he is
thinking about." This foolish "blague" was accompanied
by a description of Edison's new "aerophone,"
a steam machine which carried the voice a distance
of one and a half miles. "You speak to a jet of
vapor. A friend previously advised can answer you
by the same method." Nor were American journals
backward in this wild exaggeration.

The furor had its effect in stimulating a desire
everywhere on the part of everybody to see and hear
the phonograph. A small commercial organization
was formed to build and exploit the apparatus, and
the shops at Menlo Park laboratory were assisted by
the little Bergmann shop in New York. Offices were
taken for the new enterprise at 203 Broadway, where
the Mail and Express building now stands, and
where, in a general way, under the auspices of a
talented dwarf, C. A. Cheever, the embryonic phonograph
and the crude telephone shared rooms and expenses.
Gardiner G. Hubbard, father-in-law of Alex.
Graham Bell, was one of the stockholders in the
Phonograph Company, which paid Edison $10,000
cash and a 20 per cent. royalty. This curious part-
nership was maintained for some time, even when
the Bell Telephone offices were removed to Reade
Street, New York, whither the phonograph went also;
and was perhaps explained by the fact that just then
the ability of the phonograph as a money-maker
was much more easily demonstrated than was that
of the telephone, still in its short range magneto
stage and awaiting development with the aid of the
carbon transmitter.

The earning capacity of the phonograph then, as
largely now, lay in its exhibition qualities. The
royalties from Boston, ever intellectually awake and
ready for something new, ran as high as $1800 a
week. In New York there was a ceaseless demand
for it, and with the aid of Hilbourne L. Roosevelt, a
famous organ builder, and uncle of ex-President
Roosevelt, concerts were given at which the phonograph
was "featured." To manage this novel show
business the services of James Redpath were called
into requisition with great success. Redpath, famous
as a friend and biographer of John Brown, as a
Civil War correspondent, and as founder of the
celebrated Redpath Lyceum Bureau in Boston, divided
the country into territories, each section being leased
for exhibition purposes on a basis of a percentage of
the "gate money." To 203 Broadway from all over
the Union flocked a swarm of showmen, cranks, and
particularly of old operators, who, the seedier they
were in appearance, the more insistent they were that
"Tom" should give them, for the sake of "Auld lang
syne," this chance to make a fortune for him and for
themselves. At the top of the building was a floor
on which these novices were graduated in the use and
care of the machine, and then, with an equipment of
tinfoil and other supplies, they were sent out on the
road. It was a diverting experience while it lasted.
The excitement over the phonograph was maintained
for many months, until a large proportion of the
inhabitants of the country had seen it; and then the
show receipts declined and dwindled away. Many of
the old operators, taken on out of good-nature, were
poor exhibitors and worse accountants, and at last
they and the machines with which they had been
intrusted faded from sight. But in the mean time
Edison had learned many lessons as to this practical
side of development that were not forgotten when
the renascence of the phonograph began a few years
later, leading up to the present enormous and steady
demand for both machines and records.

It deserves to be pointed out that the phonograph
has changed little in the intervening years from the
first crude instruments of 1877-78. It has simply
been refined and made more perfect in a mechanical
sense. Edison was immensely impressed with its
possibilities, and greatly inclined to work upon it,
but the coming of the electric light compelled him to
throw all his energies for a time into the vast new
field awaiting conquest. The original phonograph,
as briefly noted above, was rotated by hand, and the
cylinder was fed slowly longitudinally by means of
a nut engaging a screw thread on the cylinder shaft.
Wrapped around the cylinder was a sheet of tinfoil,
with which engaged a small chisel-like recording
needle, connected adhesively with the centre of an
iron diaphragm. Obviously, as the cylinder was
turned, the needle followed a spiral path whose pitch
depended upon that of the feed screw. Along this
path a thread was cut in the cylinder so as to permit
the needle to indent the foil readily as the diaphragm
vibrated. By rotating the cylinder and by causing
the diaphragm to vibrate under the effect of vocal
or musical sounds, the needle-like point would form
a series of indentations in the foil corresponding to
and characteristic of the sound-waves. By now
engaging the point with the beginning of the grooved
record so formed, and by again rotating the cylinder,
the undulations of the record would cause the needle
and its attached diaphragm to vibrate so as to effect
the reproduction. Such an apparatus was necessarily
undeveloped, and was interesting only from a scientific
point of view. It had many mechanical defects
which prevented its use as a practical apparatus.
Since the cylinder was rotated by hand, the speed
at which the record was formed would vary
considerably, even with the same manipulator, so that
it would have been impossible to record and reproduce
music satisfactorily; in doing which exact uniformity
of speed is essential. The formation of the
record in tinfoil was also objectionable from a practical
standpoint, since such a record was faint and
would be substantially obliterated after two or three
reproductions. Furthermore, the foil could not be
easily removed from and replaced upon the instrument,
and consequently the reproduction had to follow
the recording immediately, and the successive
tinfoils were thrown away. The instrument was also
heavy and bulky. Notwithstanding these objections
the original phonograph created, as already remarked,
an enormous popular excitement, and the exhibitions
were considered by many sceptical persons as nothing
more than clever ventriloquism. The possibilities
of the instrument as a commercial apparatus
were recognized from the very first, and some of the
fields in which it was predicted that the phonograph
would be used are now fully occupied. Some have
not yet been realized. Writing in 1878 in the North
American-Review, Mr. Edison thus summed up his
own ideas as to the future applications of the new
invention:


"Among the many uses to which the phonograph will
be applied are the following:

1. Letter writing and all kinds of dictation without the
aid of a stenographer.

2. Phonographic books, which will speak to blind people
without effort on their part.

3. The teaching of elocution.

4. Reproduction of music.

5. The `Family Record'--a registry of sayings,
reminiscences, etc., by members of a family in their own
voices, and of the last words of dying persons.

6. Music-boxes and toys.

7. Clocks that should announce in articulate speech
the time for going home, going to meals, etc.

8. The preservation of languages by exact reproduction
of the manner of pronouncing.

9. Educational purposes; such as preserving the
explanations made by a teacher, so that the pupil can refer
to them at any moment, and spelling or other lessons
placed upon the phonograph for convenience in committing
to memory.

10. Connection with the telephone, so as to make that
instrument an auxiliary in the transmission of permanent
and invaluable records, instead of being the recipient of
momentary and fleeting communication."


Of the above fields of usefulness in which it was
expected that the phonograph might be applied, only
three have been commercially realized--namely, the
reproduction of musical, including vaudeville or talking
selections, for which purpose a very large proportion
of the phonographs now made is used; the employment
of the machine as a mechanical stenographer,
which field has been taken up actively only
within the past few years; and the utilization of the
device for the teaching of languages, for which purpose
it has been successfully employed, for example,
by the International Correspondence Schools of
Scranton, Pennsylvania, for several years. The other
uses, however, which were early predicted for the
phonograph have not as yet been worked out practically,
although the time seems not far distant when
its general utility will be widely enlarged. Both dolls
and clocks have been made, but thus far the world
has not taken them seriously.

The original phonograph, as invented by Edison,
remained in its crude and immature state for almost
ten years--still the object of philosophical interest,
and as a convenient text-book illustration of the
effect of sound vibration. It continued to be a theme
of curious interest to the imaginative, and the subject
of much fiction, while its neglected commercial
possibilities were still more or less vaguely referred to.
During this period of arrested development, Edison
was continuously working on the invention and commercial
exploitation of the incandescent lamp. In
1887 his time was comparatively free, and the phonograph
was then taken up with renewed energy, and
the effort made to overcome its mechanical defects
and to furnish a commercial instrument, so that its
early promise might be realized. The important
changes made from that time up to 1890 converted
the phonograph from a scientific toy into a successful
industrial apparatus. The idea of forming the record
on tinfoil had been early abandoned, and in its stead
was substituted a cylinder of wax-like material, in
which the record was cut by a minute chisel-like gouging
tool. Such a record or phonogram, as it was then
called, could be removed from the machine or replaced
at any time, many reproductions could be
obtained without wearing out the record, and whenever
desired the record could be shaved off by a
turning-tool so as to present a fresh surface on which
a new record could be formed, something like an
ancient palimpsest. A wax cylinder having walls
less than one-quarter of an inch in thickness could
be used for receiving a large number of records, since
the maximum depth of the record groove is hardly
ever greater than one one-thousandth of an inch.
Later on, and as the crowning achievement in the
phonograph field, from a commercial point of view,
came the duplication of records to the extent of many
thousands from a single "master." This work was
actively developed between the years 1890 and 1898,
and its difficulties may be appreciated when the
problem is stated; the copying from a single master
of many millions of excessively minute sound-waves
having a maximum width of one hundredth of an
inch, and a maximum depth of one thousandth of
an inch, or less than the thickness of a sheet of
tissue-paper. Among the interesting developments of
this process was the coating of the original or master
record with a homogeneous film of gold so thin that
three hundred thousand of these piled one on top of
the other would present a thickness of only one inch!

Another important change was in the nature of a
reversal of the original arrangement, the cylinder or
mandrel carrying the record being mounted in fixed
bearings, and the recording or reproducing device
being fed lengthwise, like the cutting-tool of a lathe,
as the blank or record was rotated. It was early
recognized that a single needle for forming the record
and the reproduction therefrom was an undesirable
arrangement, since the formation of the record required
a very sharp cutting-tool, while satisfactory
and repeated reproduction suggested the use of a
stylus which would result in the minimum wear.
After many experiments and the production of a
number of types of machines, the present recorders
and reproducers were evolved, the former consisting
of a very small cylindrical gouging tool having a diameter
of about forty thousandths of an inch, and the
latter a ball or button-shaped stylus with a diameter
of about thirty-five thousandths of an inch. By
using an incisor of this sort, the record is formed of
a series of connected gouges with rounded sides,
varying in depth and width, and with which the
reproducer automatically engages and maintains its
engagement. Another difficulty encountered in the
commercial development of the phonograph was the
adjustment of the recording stylus so as to enter the
wax-like surface to a very slight depth, and of the
reproducer so as to engage exactly the record when
formed. The earlier types of machines were provided
with separate screws for effecting these adjustments;
but considerable skill was required to
obtain good results, and great difficulty was
experienced in meeting the variations in the wax-like
cylinders, due to the warping under atmospheric
changes. Consequently, with the early types of commercial
phonographs, it was first necessary to shave
off the blank accurately before a record was formed
thereon, in order that an absolutely true surface
might be presented. To overcome these troubles,
the very ingenious suggestion was then made and
adopted, of connecting the recording and reproducing
styluses to their respective diaphragms through the
instrumentality of a compensating weight, which acted
practically as a fixed support under the very rapid
sound vibrations, but which yielded readily to distortions
or variations in the wax-like cylinders. By
reason of this improvement, it became possible to do
away with all adjustments, the mass of the compensating
weight causing the recorder to engage the
blank automatically to the required depth, and to
maintain the reproducing stylus always with the desired
pressure on the record when formed. These
automatic adjustments were maintained even though
the blank or record might be so much out of true
as an eighth of an inch, equal to more than two
hundred times the maximum depth of the record
groove.

Another improvement that followed along the lines
adopted by Edison for the commercial development
of the phonograph was making the recording and reproducing
styluses of sapphire, an extremely hard,
non-oxidizable jewel, so that those tiny instruments
would always retain their true form and effectively
resist wear. Of course, in this work many other things
were done that may still be found on the perfected
phonograph as it stands to-day, and many other suggestions
were made which were contemporaneously
adopted, but which were later abandoned. For the
curious-minded, reference is made to the records in
the Patent Office, which will show that up to 1893
Edison had obtained upward of sixty-five patents in
this art, from which his line of thought can be very
closely traced. The phonograph of to-day, except
for the perfection of its mechanical features, in its
beauty of manufacture and design, and in small details,
may be considered identical with the machine
of 1889, with the exception that with the latter the
rotation of the record cylinder was effected by an
electric motor.

Its essential use as then contemplated was as a
substitute for stenographers, and the most extravagant
fancies were indulged in as to utility in that
field. To exploit the device commercially, the patents
were sold to Philadelphia capitalists, who organized
the North American Phonograph Company, through
which leases for limited periods were granted to local
companies doing business in special territories, gen-
erally within the confines of a single State. Under
that plan, resembling the methods of 1878, the machines
and blank cylinders were manufactured by the
Edison Phonograph Works, which still retains its
factories at Orange, New Jersey. The marketing
enterprise was early doomed to failure, principally
because the instruments were not well understood,
and did not possess the necessary refinements that
would fit them for the special field in which they were
to be used. At first the instruments were leased;
but it was found that the leases were seldom renewed.
Efforts were then made to sell them, but the prices
were high--from $100 to $150. In the midst of these
difficulties, the chief promoter of the enterprise, Mr.
Lippincott, died; and it was soon found that the
roseate dreams of success entertained by the sanguine
promoters were not to be realized. The North American
Phonograph Company failed, its principal creditor
being Mr. Edison, who, having acquired the
assets of the defunct concern, organized the National
Phonograph Company, to which he turned over the
patents; and with characteristic energy he attempted
again to build up a business with which his favorite
and, to him, most interesting invention might be
successfully identified. The National Phonograph
Company from the very start determined to retire at
least temporarily from the field of stenographic use,
and to exploit the phonograph for musical purposes as
a competitor of the music-box. Hence it was necessary
that for such work the relatively heavy and expensive
electric motor should be discarded, and a simple
spring motor constructed with a sufficiently sensitive
governor to permit accurate musical reproduction.
Such a motor was designed, and is now used on all
phonographs except on such special instruments as
may be made with electric motors, as well as on the
successful apparatus that has more recently been
designed and introduced for stenographic use. Improved
factory facilities were introduced; new tools
were made, and various types of machines were designed
so that phonographs can now be bought at
prices ranging from $10 to $200. Even with the
changes which were thus made in the two machines,
the work of developing the business was slow, as a
demand had to be created; and the early prejudice
of the public against the phonograph, due to its failure
as a stenographic apparatus, had to be overcome.
The story of the phonograph as an industrial enterprise,
from this point of departure, is itself full of
interest, but embraces so many details that it is
necessarily given in a separate later chapter. We must
return to the days of 1878, when Edison, with at
least three first-class inventions to his credit--the
quadruplex, the carbon telephone, and the phonograph
--had become a man of mark and a "world
character."

The invention of the phonograph was immediately
followed, as usual, by the appearance of several other
incidental and auxiliary devices, some patented, and
others remaining simply the application of the principles
of apparatus that had been worked out. One
of these was the telephonograph, a combination of a
telephone at a distant station with a phonograph.
The diaphragm of the phonograph mouthpiece is
actuated by an electromagnet in the same way as
that of an ordinary telephone receiver, and in this
manner a record of the message spoken from a distance
can be obtained and turned into sound at will.
Evidently such a process is reversible, and the
phonograph can send a message to the distant receiver.

This idea was brilliantly demonstrated in practice
in February, 1889, by Mr. W. J. Hammer, one of
Edison's earliest and most capable associates, who
carried on telephonographic communication between
New York and an audience in Philadelphia. The
record made in New York on the Edison phonograph
was repeated into an Edison carbon transmitter, sent
over one hundred and three miles of circuit, including
six miles of underground cable; received by an Edison
motograph; repeated by that on to a phonograph;
transferred from the phonograph to an Edison carbon
transmitter, and by that delivered to the Edison
motograph receiver in the enthusiastic lecture-hall,
where every one could hear each sound and syllable
distinctly. In real practice this spectacular playing
with sound vibrations, as if they were lacrosse balls
to toss around between the goals, could be materially
simplified.

The modern megaphone, now used universally in
making announcements to large crowds, particularly
at sporting events, is also due to this period as a
perfection by Edison of many antecedent devices going
back, perhaps, much further than the legendary
funnels through which Alexander the Great is said
to have sent commands to his outlying forces. The
improved Edison megaphone for long-distance work
comprised two horns of wood or metal about six feet
long, tapering from a diameter of two feet six inches
at the mouth to a small aperture provided with ear-
tubes. These converging horns or funnels, with a
large speaking-trumpet in between them, are mounted
on a tripod, and the megaphone is complete.
Conversation can be carried on with this megaphone
at a distance of over two miles, as with a ship or
the balloon. The modern megaphone now employs
the receiver form thus introduced as its very effective
transmitter, with which the old-fashioned speaking-
trumpet cannot possibly compete; and the word
"megaphone" is universally applied to the single,
side-flaring horn.

A further step in this line brought Edison to the
"aerophone," around which the Figaro weaved its
fanciful description. In the construction of the aerophone
the same kind of tympanum is used as in the
phonograph, but the imitation of the human voice,
or the transmission of sound, is effected by the quick
opening and closing of valves placed within a steam-
whistle or an organ-pipe. The vibrations of the
diaphragm communicated to the valves cause them
to operate in synchronism, so that the vibrations are
thrown upon the escaping air or steam; and the result
is an instrument with a capacity of magnifying
the sounds two hundred times, and of hurling them
to great distances intelligibly, like a huge fog-siren,
but with immense clearness and penetration. All
this study of sound transmission over long distances
without wires led up to the consideration and inven-
tion of pioneer apparatus for wireless telegraphy--
but that also is another chapter.

Yet one more ingenious device of this period must
be noted--Edison's vocal engine, the patent application
for which was executed in August, 1878, the
patent being granted the following December. Reference
to this by Edison himself has already been
quoted. The "voice-engine," or "phonomotor," converts
the vibrations of the voice or of music, acting
on the diaphragm, into motion which is utilized to
drive some secondary appliance, whether as a toy
or for some useful purpose. Thus a man can actually
talk a hole through a board.

Somewhat weary of all this work and excitement,
and not having enjoyed any cessation from toil, or
period of rest, for ten years, Edison jumped eagerly
at the opportunity afforded him in the summer of
1878 of making a westward trip. Just thirty years
later, on a similar trip over the same ground, he
jotted down for this volume some of his reminiscences.
The lure of 1878 was the opportunity to try
the ability of his delicate tasimeter during the total
eclipse of the sun, July 29. His admiring friend, Prof.
George F. Barker, of the University of Pennsylvania,
with whom he had now been on terms of intimacy
for some years, suggested the holiday, and was himself
a member of the excursion party that made its
rendezvous at Rawlins, Wyoming Territory. Edison
had tested his tasimeter, and was satisfied that it
would measure down to the millionth part of a
degree Fahrenheit. It was just ten years since he
had left the West in poverty and obscurity, a penni-
less operator in search of a job; but now he was a
great inventor and famous, a welcome addition to
the band of astronomers and physicists assembled
to observe the eclipse and the corona.

"There were astronomers from nearly every nation,"
says Mr. Edison. "We had a special car.
The country at that time was rather new; game was
in great abundance, and could be seen all day long
from the car window, especially antelope. We arrived
at Rawlins about 4 P.M. It had a small machine
shop, and was the point where locomotives
were changed for the next section. The hotel was a
very small one, and by doubling up we were barely
accommodated. My room-mate was Fox, the correspondent
of the New York Herald. After we retired
and were asleep a thundering knock on the door
awakened us. Upon opening the door a tall, handsome
man with flowing hair dressed in western style
entered the room. His eyes were bloodshot, and he
was somewhat inebriated. He introduced himself as
`Texas Jack'--Joe Chromondo--and said he wanted
to see Edison, as he had read about me in the newspapers.
Both Fox and I were rather scared, and
didn't know what was to be the result of the interview.
The landlord requested him not to make so
much noise, and was thrown out into the hall. Jack
explained that he had just come in with a party
which had been hunting, and that he felt fine. He
explained, also, that he was the boss pistol-shot of
the West; that it was he who taught the celebrated
Doctor Carver how to shoot. Then suddenly pointing
to a weather-vane on the freight depot, he pulled
out a Colt revolver and fired through the window,
hitting the vane. The shot awakened all the people,
and they rushed in to see who was killed. It was
only after I told him I was tired and would see him
in the morning that he left. Both Fox and I were so
nervous we didn't sleep any that night.

"We were told in the morning that Jack was a
pretty good fellow, and was not one of the `bad
men,' of whom they had a good supply. They had
one in the jail, and Fox and I went over to see him. A
few days before he had held up a Union Pacific train
and robbed all the passengers. In the jail also was a
half-breed horse-thief. We interviewed the bad man
through bars as big as railroad rails. He looked like
a `bad man.' The rim of his ear all around came
to a sharp edge and was serrated. His eyes were nearly
white, and appeared as if made of glass and set in
wrong, like the life-size figures of Indians in the
Smithsonian Institution. His face was also extremely
irregular. He wouldn't answer a single question.
I learned afterward that he got seven years in prison,
while the horse-thief was hanged. As horses ran
wild, and there was no protection, it meant death
to steal one."

This was one interlude among others. "The first
thing the astronomers did was to determine with
precision their exact locality upon the earth. A number
of observations were made, and Watson, of Michigan
University, with two others, worked all night
computing, until they agreed. They said they were
not in error more than one hundred feet, and that
the station was twelve miles out of the position given
on the maps. It seemed to take an immense amount
of mathematics. I preserved one of the sheets, which
looked like the time-table of a Chinese railroad. The
instruments of the various parties were then set up
in different parts of the little town, and got ready
for the eclipse which was to occur in three or four days.
Two days before the event we all got together, and
obtaining an engine and car, went twelve miles
farther west to visit the United States Government
astronomers at a place called Separation, the apex
of the Great Divide, where the waters run east to the
Mississippi and west to the Pacific. Fox and I took
our Winchester rifles with an idea of doing a little
shooting. After calling on the Government people
we started to interview the telegraph operator at this
most lonely and desolate spot. After talking over old
acquaintances I asked him if there was any game
around. He said, `Plenty of jack-rabbits.' These
jack-rabbits are a very peculiar species. They have
ears about six inches long and very slender legs,
about three times as long as those of an ordinary
rabbit, and travel at a great speed by a series of
jumps, each about thirty feet long, as near as I could
judge. The local people called them `narrow-gauge
mules.' Asking the operator the best direction, he
pointed west, and noticing a rabbit in a clear space
in the sage bushes, I said, `There is one now.' I
advanced cautiously to within one hundred feet and
shot. The rabbit paid no attention. I then advanced
to within ten feet and shot again--the rabbit
was still immovable. On looking around, the whole
crowd at the station were watching--and then I
knew the rabbit was stuffed! However, we did shoot
a number of live ones until Fox ran out of cartridges.
On returning to the station I passed away the time
shooting at cans set on a pile of tins. Finally the
operator said to Fox: `I have a fine Springfield
musket, suppose you try it!' So Fox took the
musket and fired. It knocked him nearly over. It
seems that the musket had been run over by a handcar,
which slightly bent the long barrel, but not
sufficiently for an amateur like Fox to notice. After
Fox had his shoulder treated with arnica at the
Government hospital tent, we returned to Rawlins."

The eclipse was, however, the prime consideration,
and Edison followed the example of his colleagues in
making ready. The place which he secured for setting
up his tasimeter was an enclosure hardly suitable
for the purpose, and he describes the results as follows:

"I had my apparatus in a small yard enclosed by
a board fence six feet high, at one end there was a
house for hens. I noticed that they all went to roost
just before totality. At the same time a slight wind
arose, and at the moment of totality the atmosphere
was filled with thistle-down and other light articles.
I noticed one feather, whose weight was at least one
hundred and fifty milligrams, rise perpendicularly to
the top of the fence, where it floated away on the
wind. My apparatus was entirely too sensitive, and
I got no results." It was found that the heat from
the corona of the sun was ten times the index capacity
of the instrument; but this result did not leave the
value of the device in doubt. The Scientific American
remarked;

"Seeing that the tasimeter is affected by a wider range
of etheric undulations than the eye can take cognizance
of, and is withal far more acutely sensitive, the probabilities
are that it will open up hitherto inaccessible
regions of space, and possibly extend the range of aerial
knowledge as far beyond the limit obtained by the telescope
as that is beyond the narrow reach of unaided
vision."


The eclipse over, Edison, with Professor Barker,
Major Thornberg, several soldiers, and a number of
railroad officials, went hunting about one hundred
miles south of the railroad in the Ute country. A
few months later the Major and thirty soldiers were
ambushed near the spot at which the hunting-party
had camped, and all were killed. Through an introduction
from Mr. Jay Gould, who then controlled the
Union Pacific, Edison was allowed to ride on the
cow-catchers of the locomotives. "The different
engineers gave me a small cushion, and every day I
rode in this manner, from Omaha to the Sacramento
Valley, except through the snow-shed on the summit
of the Sierras, without dust or anything else to
obstruct the view. Only once was I in danger when
the locomotive struck an animal about the size of
a small cub bear--which I think was a badger. This
animal struck the front of the locomotive just under
the headlight with great violence, and was then
thrown off by the rebound. I was sitting to one side
grasping the angle brace, so no harm was done."

This welcome vacation lasted nearly two months;
but Edison was back in his laboratory and hard at
work before the end of August, gathering up many
loose ends, and trying out many thoughts and ideas
that had accumulated on the trip. One hot afternoon
--August 30th, as shown by the document in
the case--Mr. Edison was found by one of the authors
of this biography employed most busily in making
a mysterious series of tests on paper, using for ink
acids that corrugated and blistered the paper where
written upon. When interrogated as to his object,
he stated that the plan was to afford blind people
the means of writing directly to each other, especially
if they were also deaf and could not hear a message
on the phonograph. The characters which he was
thus forming on the paper were high enough in relief
to be legible to the delicate touch of a blind man's
fingers, and with simple apparatus letters could be
thus written, sent, and read. There was certainly
no question as to the result obtained at the moment,
which was all that was asked; but the Edison autograph
thus and then written now shows the paper
eaten out by the acid used, although covered with
glass for many years. Mr. Edison does not remember
that he ever recurred to this very interesting test.

He was, however, ready for anything new or novel,
and no record can ever be made or presented that
would do justice to a tithe of the thoughts and fancies
daily and hourly put upon the rack. The famous
note-books, to which reference will be made later,
were not begun as a regular series, as it was only the
profusion of these ideas that suggested the vital value
of such systematic registration. Then as now, the
propositions brought to Edison ranged over every
conceivable subject, but the years have taught him
caution in grappling with them. He tells an amusing
story of one dilemma into which his good-nature led
him at this period: "At Menlo Park one day, a farmer
came in and asked if I knew any way to kill potato-
bugs. He had twenty acres of potatoes, and the
vines were being destroyed. I sent men out and
culled two quarts of bugs, and tried every chemical
I had to destroy them. Bisulphide of carbon was
found to do it instantly. I got a drum and went over
to the potato farm and sprinkled it on the vines with
a pot. Every bug dropped dead. The next morning
the farmer came in very excited and reported that
the stuff had killed the vines as well. I had to pay
$300 for not experimenting properly."

During this year, 1878, the phonograph made its
way also to Europe, and various sums of money were
paid there to secure the rights to its manufacture and
exploitation. In England, for example, the Microscopic
Company paid $7500 down and agreed to a
royalty, while arrangements were effected also in
France, Russia, and other countries. In every instance,
as in this country, the commercial development
had to wait several years, for in the mean time
another great art had been brought into existence,
demanding exclusive attention and exhaustive toil.
And when the work was done the reward was a new
heaven and a new earth--in the art of illumination.



CHAPTER XI

THE INVENTION OF THE INCANDESCENT LAMP

IT is possible to imagine a time to come when the
hours of work and rest will once more be regulated
by the sun. But the course of civilization has been
marked by an artificial lengthening of the day, and by a
constant striving after more perfect means of illumination.
Why mankind should sleep through several hours
of sunlight in the morning, and stay awake through
a needless time in the evening, can probably only
be attributed to total depravity. It is certainly a
most stupid, expensive, and harmful habit. In no
one thing has man shown greater fertility of invention
than in lighting; to nothing does he cling more
tenaciously than to his devices for furnishing light.
Electricity to-day reigns supreme in the field of
illumination, but every other kind of artificial light
that has ever been known is still in use somewhere.
Toward its light-bringers the race has assumed an
attitude of veneration, though it has forgotten, if it
ever heard, the names of those who first brightened
its gloom and dissipated its darkness. If the tallow
candle, hitherto unknown, were now invented, its
creator would be hailed as one of the greatest
benefactors of the present age.

Up to the close of the eighteenth century, the means
of house and street illumination were of two generic
kinds--grease and oil; but then came a swift and
revolutionary change in the adoption of gas. The
ideas and methods of Murdoch and Lebon soon took
definite shape, and "coal smoke" was piped from its
place of origin to distant points of consumption. As
early as 1804, the first company ever organized for
gas lighting was formed in London, one side of Pall
Mall being lit up by the enthusiastic pioneer, Winsor,
in 1807. Equal activity was shown in America, and
Baltimore began the practice of gas lighting in 1816.
It is true that there were explosions, and distinguished
men like Davy and Watt opined that the illuminant
was too dangerous; but the "spirit of coal" had
demonstrated its usefulness convincingly, and a
commercial development began, which, for extent
and rapidity, was not inferior to that marking the
concurrent adoption of steam in industry and transportation.

Meantime the wax candle and the Argand oil lamp
held their own bravely. The whaling fleets, long after
gas came into use, were one of the greatest sources
of our national wealth. To New Bedford, Massachusetts,
alone, some three or four hundred ships
brought their whale and sperm oil, spermaceti, and
whalebone; and at one time that port was accounted
the richest city in the United States in proportion
to its population. The ship-owners and refiners of
that whaling metropolis were slow to believe that
their monopoly could ever be threatened by newer
sources of illumination; but gas had become available
in the cities, and coal-oil and petroleum were now
added to the list of illuminating materials. The
American whaling fleet, which at the time of Edison's
birth mustered over seven hundred sail, had dwindled
probably to a bare tenth when he took up the problem
of illumination; and the competition of oil from
the ground with oil from the sea, and with coal-gas,
had made the artificial production of light cheaper
than ever before, when up to the middle of the century
it had remained one of the heaviest items of
domestic expense. Moreover, just about the time
that Edison took up incandescent lighting, water-gas
was being introduced on a large scale as a commercial
illuminant that could be produced at a much lower
cost than coal-gas.

Throughout the first half of the nineteenth century
the search for a practical electric light was almost
wholly in the direction of employing methods analogous
to those already familiar; in other words, obtaining
the illumination from the actual consumption of
the light-giving material. In the third quarter of
the century these methods were brought to practicality,
but all may be referred back to the brilliant
demonstrations of Sir Humphry Davy at the Royal
Institution, circa 1809-10, when, with the current
from a battery of two thousand cells, he produced an
intense voltaic arc between the points of consuming
sticks of charcoal. For more than thirty years the
arc light remained an expensive laboratory experiment;
but the coming of the dynamo placed that
illuminant on a commercial basis. The mere fact
that electrical energy from the least expensive chemical
battery using up zinc and acids costs twenty
times as much as that from a dynamo--driven by
steam-engine--is in itself enough to explain why so
many of the electric arts lingered in embryo after
their fundamental principles had been discovered.
Here is seen also further proof of the great truth
that one invention often waits for another.

From 1850 onward the improvements in both the
arc lamp and the dynamo were rapid; and under the
superintendence of the great Faraday, in 1858, protecting
beams of intense electric light from the voltaic
arc were shed over the waters of the Straits of Dover
from the beacons of South Foreland and Dungeness.
By 1878 the arc-lighting industry had sprung into
existence in so promising a manner as to engender
an extraordinary fever and furor of speculation. At
the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition of 1876,
Wallace-Farmer dynamos built at Ansonia, Connecticut,
were shown, with the current from which arc
lamps were there put in actual service. A year or
two later the work of Charles F. Brush and Edward
Weston laid the deep foundation of modern arc lighting
in America, securing as well substantial recognition
abroad.

Thus the new era had been ushered in, but it was
based altogether on the consumption of some material
--carbon--in a lamp open to the air. Every
lamp the world had ever known did this, in one way
or another. Edison himself began at that point,
and his note-books show that he made various experiments
with this type of lamp at a very early stage.
Indeed, his experiments had led him so far as to
anticipate in 1875 what are now known as "flaming
arcs," the exceedingly bright and generally orange
or rose-colored lights which have been introduced
within the last few years, and are now so frequently
seen in streets and public places. While the arcs
with plain carbons are bluish-white, those with carbons
containing calcium fluoride have a notable
golden glow.

He was convinced, however, that the greatest field
of lighting lay in the illumination of houses and other
comparatively enclosed areas, to replace the ordinary
gas light, rather than in the illumination of streets
and other outdoor places by lights of great volume
and brilliancy. Dismissing from his mind quickly
the commercial impossibility of using arc lights for
general indoor illumination, he arrived at the conclusion
that an electric lamp giving light by incandescence
was the solution of the problem.

Edison was familiar with the numerous but
impracticable and commercially unsuccessful efforts
that had been previously made by other inventors
and investigators to produce electric light by incandescence,
and at the time that he began his experiments,
in 1877, almost the whole scientific world
had pronounced such an idea as impossible of fulfilment.
The leading electricians, physicists, and experts
of the period had been studying the subject
for more than a quarter of a century, and with but
one known exception had proven mathematically and
by close reasoning that the "Subdivision of the
Electric Light," as it was then termed, was practically
beyond attainment. Opinions of this nature
have ever been but a stimulus to Edison when he
has given deep thought to a subject, and has become
impressed with strong convictions of possibility, and
in this particular case he was satisfied that the subdivision
of the electric light--or, more correctly, the
subdivision of the electric current--was not only
possible but entirely practicable.

It will have been perceived from the foregoing
chapters that from the time of boyhood, when he
first began to rub against the world, his commercial
instincts were alert and predominated in almost all
of the enterprises that he set in motion. This
characteristic trait had grown stronger as he matured,
having received, as it did, fresh impetus and strength
from his one lapse in the case of his first patented
invention, the vote-recorder. The lesson he then
learned was to devote his inventive faculties only to
things for which there was a real, genuine demand,
and that would subserve the actual necessities of
humanity; and it was probably a fortunate circumstance
that this lesson was learned at the outset of
his career as an inventor. He has never assumed to
be a philosopher or "pure scientist."

In order that the reader may grasp an adequate
idea of the magnitude and importance of Edison's
invention of the incandescent lamp, it will be necessary
to review briefly the "state of the art" at the
time he began his experiments on that line. After
the invention of the voltaic battery, early in the last
century, experiments were made which determined
that heat could be produced by the passage of the
electric current through wires of platinum and other
metals, and through pieces of carbon, as noted al-
ready, and it was, of course, also observed that if
sufficient current were passed through these conductors
they could be brought from the lower stage
of redness up to the brilliant white heat of incandescence.
As early as 1845 the results of these experiments
were taken advantage of when Starr, a
talented American who died at the early age of
twenty-five, suggested, in his English patent of that
year, two forms of small incandescent electric lamps,
one having a burner made from platinum foil placed
under a glass cover without excluding the air; and
the other composed of a thin plate or pencil of carbon
enclosed in a Torricellian vacuum. These suggestions
of young Starr were followed by many other experimenters,
whose improvements consisted principally
in devices to increase the compactness and portability
of the lamp, in the sealing of the lamp chamber
to prevent the admission of air, and in means
for renewing the carbon burner when it had been consumed.
Thus Roberts, in 1852, proposed to cement
the neck of the glass globe into a metallic cup, and
to provide it with a tube or stop-cock for exhaustion
by means of a hand-pump. Lodyguine, Konn, Kosloff,
and Khotinsky, between 1872 and 1877, proposed
various ingenious devices for perfecting the
joint between the metal base and the glass globe, and
also provided their lamps with several short carbon
pencils, which were automatically brought into circuit
successively as the pencils were consumed. In
1876 or 1877, Bouliguine proposed the employment
of a long carbon pencil, a short section only of
which was in circuit at any one time and formed the
burner, the lamp being provided with a mechanism
for automatically pushing other sections of the pencil
into position between the contacts to renew the
burner. Sawyer and Man proposed, in 1878, to make
the bottom plate of glass instead of metal, and
provided ingenious arrangements for charging the
lamp chamber with an atmosphere of pure nitrogen
gas which does not support combustion.

These lamps and many others of similar character,
ingenious as they were, failed to become of any commercial
value, due, among other things, to the brief
life of the carbon burner. Even under the best conditions
it was found that the carbon members were
subject to a rapid disintegration or evaporation,
which experimenters assumed was due to the disrupting
action of the electric current; and hence the
conclusion that carbon contained in itself the elements
of its own destruction, and was not a suitable
material for the burner of an incandescent lamp.
On the other hand, platinum, although found to be
the best of all materials for the purpose, aside from
its great expense, and not combining with oxygen at
high temperatures as does carbon, required to be
brought so near the melting-point in order to give
light, that a very slight increase in the temperature
resulted in its destruction. It was assumed that the
difficulty lay in the material of the burner itself, and
not in its environment.

It was not realized up to such a comparatively
recent date as 1879 that the solution of the great
problem of subdivision of the electric current would
not, however, be found merely in the production of
a durable incandescent electric lamp--even if any of
the lamps above referred to had fulfilled that requirement.
The other principal features necessary
to subdivide the electric current successfully were:
the burning of an indefinite number of lights on the
same circuit; each light to give a useful and economical
degree of illumination; and each light to be independent
of all the others in regard to its operation
and extinguishment.

The opinions of scientific men of the period on the
subject are well represented by the two following
extracts--the first, from a lecture at the Royal
United Service Institution, about February, 1879,
by Mr. (Sir) W. H. Preece, one of the most eminent
electricians in England, who, after discussing the
question mathematically, said: "Hence the sub-division
of the light is an absolute ignis fatuus." The
other extract is from a book written by Paget Higgs,
LL.D., D.Sc., published in London in 1879, in which
he says: "Much nonsense has been talked in relation
to this subject. Some inventors have claimed the
power to `indefinitely divide' the electric current, not
knowing or forgetting that such a statement is incompatible
with the well-proven law of conservation
of energy."

"Some inventors," in the last sentence just quoted,
probably--indeed, we think undoubtedly--refers to
Edison, whose earlier work in electric lighting (1878)
had been announced in this country and abroad, and
who had then stated boldly his conviction of the
practicability of the subdivision of the electrical current.
The above extracts are good illustrations,
however, of scientific opinions up to the end of 1879,
when Mr. Edison's epoch-making invention rendered
them entirely untenable. The eminent scientist,
John Tyndall, while not sharing these precise views,
at least as late as January 17, 1879, delivered a
lecture before the Royal Institution on "The
Electric Light," when, after pointing out the
development of the art up to Edison's work, and
showing the apparent hopelessness of the problem, he
said: "Knowing something of the intricacy of the
practical problem, I should certainly prefer seeing it
in Edison's hands to having it in mine."

The reader may have deemed this sketch of the
state of the art to be a considerable digression; but
it is certainly due to the subject to present the facts
in such a manner as to show that this great invention
was neither the result of improving some process or
device that was known or existing at the time, nor
due to any unforeseen lucky chance, nor the accidental
result of other experiments. On the contrary, it was
the legitimate outcome of a series of exhaustive
experiments founded upon logical and original reasoning
in a mind that had the courage and hardihood to
set at naught the confirmed opinions of the world,
voiced by those generally acknowledged to be the
best exponents of the art--experiments carried on
amid a storm of jeers and derision, almost as
contemptuous as if the search were for the discovery of
perpetual motion. In this we see the man foreshadowed
by the boy who, when he obtained his books
on chemistry or physics, did not accept any statement
of fact or experiment therein, but worked out every
one of them himself to ascertain whether or not they
were true.

Although this brings the reader up to the year
1879, one must turn back two years and accompany
Edison in his first attack on the electric-light problem.
In 1877 he sold his telephone invention (the carbon
transmitter) to the Western Union Telegraph Company,
which had previously come into possession also
of his quadruplex inventions, as already related. He
was still busily engaged on the telephone, on acoustic
electrical transmission, sextuplex telegraphs, duplex
telegraphs, miscellaneous carbon articles, and other
inventions of a minor nature. During the whole of
the previous year and until late in the summer of
1877, he had been working with characteristic energy
and enthusiasm on the telephone; and, in developing
this invention to a successful issue, had preferred the
use of carbon and had employed it in numerous
forms, especially in the form of carbonized paper.

Eighteen hundred and seventy-seven in Edison's
laboratory was a veritable carbon year, for it was
carbon in some shape or form for interpolation in
electric circuits of various kinds that occupied the
thoughts of the whole force from morning to night.
It is not surprising, therefore, that in September of
that year, when Edison turned his thoughts actively
toward electric lighting by incandescence, his early
experiments should be in the line of carbon as an
illuminant. His originality of method was displayed
at the very outset, for one of the first experiments
was the bringing to incandescence of a strip of carbon
in the open air to ascertain merely how much current
was required. This conductor was a strip of carbonized
paper about an inch long, one-sixteenth of an
inch broad, and six or seven one-thousandths of an
inch thick, the ends of which were secured to clamps
that formed the poles of a battery. The carbon
was lighted up to incandescence, and, of course,
oxidized and disintegrated immediately. Within a
few days this was followed by experiments with the
same kind of carbon, but in vacuo by means of a
hand-worked air-pump. This time the carbon strip
burned at incandescence for about eight minutes.
Various expedients to prevent oxidization were tried,
such, for instance, as coating the carbon with powdered
glass, which in melting would protect the
carbon from the atmosphere, but without successful
results.

Edison was inclined to concur in the prevailing
opinion as to the easy destructibility of carbon, but,
without actually settling the point in his mind, he
laid aside temporarily this line of experiment and
entered a new field. He had made previously some
trials of platinum wire as an incandescent burner
for a lamp, but left it for a time in favor of carbon.
He now turned to the use of almost infusible metals--
such as boron, ruthenium, chromium, etc.--as separators
or tiny bridges between two carbon points,
the current acting so as to bring these separators to
a high degree of incandescence, at which point they
would emit a brilliant light. He also placed some of
these refractory metals directly in the circuit, bringing
them to incandescence, and used silicon in powdered
form in glass tubes placed in the electric circuit. His
notes include the use of powdered silicon mixed with
lime or other very infusible non-conductors or semi-
conductors. Edison's conclusions on these substances
were that, while in some respects they were
within the bounds of possibility for the subdivision
of the electric current, they did not reach the ideal
that he had in mind for commercial results.

Edison's systematized attacks on the problem were
two in number, the first of which we have just related,
which began in September, 1877, and continued
until about January, 1878. Contemporaneously,
he and his force of men were very busily engaged
day and night on other important enterprises
and inventions. Among the latter, the phonograph
may be specially mentioned, as it was invented in
the late fall of 1877. From that time until July,
1878, his time and attention day and night were almost
completely absorbed by the excitement caused
by the invention and exhibition of the machine. In
July, feeling entitled to a brief vacation after several
years of continuous labor, Edison went with the
expedition to Wyoming to observe an eclipse of the
sun, and incidentally to test his tasimeter, a delicate
instrument devised by him for measuring heat transmitted
through immense distances of space. His trip
has been already described. He was absent about
two months. Coming home rested and refreshed,
Mr. Edison says: "After my return from the trip to
observe the eclipse of the sun, I went with Professor
Barker, Professor of Physics in the University of
Pennsylvania, and Doctor Chandler, Professor of
Chemistry in Columbia College, to see Mr. Wallace,
a large manufacturer of brass in Ansonia, Connecticut.
Wallace at this time was experimenting on
series arc lighting. Just at that time I wanted to
take up something new, and Professor Barker suggested
that I go to work and see if I could subdivide
the electric light so it could be got in small units like
gas. This was not a new suggestion, because I had
made a number of experiments on electric lighting a
year before this. They had been laid aside for the
phonograph. I determined to take up the search
again and continue it. On my return home I started
my usual course of collecting every kind of data
about gas; bought all the transactions of the gas-
engineering societies, etc., all the back volumes of
gas journals, etc. Having obtained all the data, and
investigated gas-jet distribution in New York by
actual observations, I made up my mind that the
problem of the subdivision of the electric current
could be solved and made commercial." About the
end of August, 1878, he began his second organized
attack on the subdivision of the current, which was
steadily maintained until he achieved signal victory
a year and two months later.

The date of this interesting visit to Ansonia is
fixed by an inscription made by Edison on a glass
goblet which he used. The legend in diamond
scratches runs: "Thomas A. Edison, September 8,
1878, made under the electric light." Other members
of the party left similar memorials, which under the
circumstances have come to be greatly prized. A
number of experiments were witnessed in arc lighting,
and Edison secured a small Wallace-Farmer dynamo
for his own work, as well as a set of Wallace arc
lamps for lighting the Menlo Park laboratory. Before
leaving Ansonia, Edison remarked, significantly:
"Wallace, I believe I can beat you making electric
lights. I don't think you are working in the right
direction." Another date which shows how promptly
the work was resumed is October 14, 1878, when Edison
filed an application for his first lighting patent:
"Improvement in Electric Lights." In after years,
discussing the work of Wallace, who was not only a great
pioneer electrical manufacturer, but one of the founders
of the wire-drawing and brass-working industry,
Edison said: "Wallace was one of the earliest pioneers
in electrical matters in this country. He has
done a great deal of good work, for which others have
received the credit; and the work which he did in
the early days of electric lighting others have benefited
by largely, and he has been crowded to one side
and forgotten." Associated in all this work with
Wallace at Ansonia was Prof. Moses G. Farmer,
famous for the introduction of the fire-alarm system;
as the discoverer of the self-exciting principle of the
modern dynamo; as a pioneer experimenter in the
electric-railway field; as a telegraph engineer, and
as a lecturer on mines and explosives to naval classes
at Newport. During 1858, Farmer, who, like Edison,
was a ceaseless investigator, had made a series of
studies upon the production of light by electricity,
and had even invented an automatic regulator by
which a number of platinum lamps in multiple arc
could be kept at uniform voltage for any length of
time. In July, 1859, he lit up one of the rooms of
his house at Salem, Massachusetts, every evening
with such lamps, using in them small pieces of platinum
and iridium wire, which were made to incandesce
by means of current from primary batteries.
Farmer was not one of the party that memorable day
in September, but his work was known through his
intimate connection with Wallace, and there is no
doubt that reference was made to it. Such work had
not led very far, the "lamps" were hopelessly short-
lived, and everything was obviously experimental;
but it was all helpful and suggestive to one whose
open mind refused no hint from any quarter.

At the commencement of his new attempts, Edison
returned to his experiments with carbon as an
incandescent burner for a lamp, and made a very large
number of trials, all in vacuo. Not only were the
ordinary strip paper carbons tried again, but tissue-
paper coated with tar and lampblack was rolled
into thin sticks, like knitting-needles, carbonized and
raised to incandescence in vacuo. Edison also tried
hard carbon, wood carbons, and almost every
conceivable variety of paper carbon in like manner.
With the best vacuum that he could then get by
means of the ordinary air-pump, the carbons would
last, at the most, only from ten to fifteen minutes in
a state of incandescence. Such results were evidently
not of commercial value.

Edison then turned his attention in other directions.
In his earliest consideration of the problem
of subdividing the electric current, he had decided
that the only possible solution lay in the employment
of a lamp whose incandescing body should have a
high resistance combined with a small radiating surface,
and be capable of being used in what is called
"multiple arc," so that each unit, or lamp, could be
turned on or off without interfering with any other
unit or lamp. No other arrangement could possibly
be considered as commercially practicable.

The full significance of the three last preceding
sentences will not be obvious to laymen, as undoubtedly
many of the readers of this book may be; and now
being on the threshold of the series of Edison's experiments
that led up to the basic invention, we interpolate
a brief explanation, in order that the reader
may comprehend the logical reasoning and work that
in this case produced such far-reaching results.

If we consider a simple circuit in which a current
is flowing, and include in the circuit a carbon horseshoe-like
conductor which it is desired to bring to
incandescence by the heat generated by the current
passing through it, it is first evident that the resistance
offered to the current by the wires themselves
must be less than that offered by the burner, because,
otherwise current would be wasted as heat in the conducting
wires. At the very foundation of the electric-
lighting art is the essentially commercial consideration
that one cannot spend very much for conductors, and
Edison determined that, in order to use wires of a
practicable size, the voltage of the current (i.e., its
pressure or the characteristic that overcomes resistance
to its flow) should be one hundred and ten volts,
which since its adoption has been the standard. To
use a lower voltage or pressure, while making the solution
of the lighting problem a simple one as we shall
see, would make it necessary to increase the size of
the conducting wires to a prohibitive extent. To
increase the voltage or pressure materially, while
permitting some saving in the cost of conductors, would
enormously increase the difficulties of making a
sufficiently high resistance conductor to secure light by
incandescence. This apparently remote consideration
--weight of copper used--was really the commercial
key to the problem, just as the incandescent
burner was the scientific key to that problem. Before
Edison's invention incandescent lamps had been
suggested as a possibility, but they were provided
with carbon rods or strips of relatively low resistance,
and to bring these to incandescence required a current
of low pressure, because a current of high voltage
would pass through them so readily as not to generate
heat; and to carry a current of low pressure through
wires without loss would require wires of enormous
size.[8] Having a current of relatively high pressure
to contend with, it was necessary to provide a carbon
burner which, as compared with what had previously
been suggested, should have a very great resistance.
Carbon as a material, determined after patient search,
apparently offered the greatest hope, but even with
this substance the necessary high resistance could be
obtained only by making the burner of extremely
small cross-section, thereby also reducing its radiating
surface. Therefore, the crucial point was the
production of a hair-like carbon filament, with a
relatively great resistance and small radiating surface,
capable of withstanding mechanical shock, and
susceptible of being maintained at a temperature of
over two thousand degrees for a thousand hours or
more before breaking. And this filamentary conductor
required to be supported in a vacuum chamber
so perfectly formed and constructed that during all
those hours, and subjected as it is to varying temperatures,
not a particle of air should enter to disintegrate
the filament. And not only so, but the
lamp after its design must not be a mere laboratory
possibility, but a practical commercial article capable
of being manufactured at low cost and in large
quantities. A statement of what had to be done in
those days of actual as well as scientific electrical
darkness is quite sufficient to explain Tyndall's attitude
of mind in preferring that the problem should
be in Edison's hands rather than in his own. To
say that the solution of the problem lay merely in
reducing the size of the carbon burner to a mere hair,
is to state a half-truth only; but who, we ask, would
have had the temerity even to suggest that such an
attenuated body could be maintained at a white heat,
without disintegration, for a thousand hours? The solution
consisted not only in that, but in the enormous
mass of patiently worked-out details--the manufacture
of the filaments, their uniform carbonization,
making the globes, producing a perfect vacuum, and
countless other factors, the omission of any one of
which would probably have resulted eventually in
failure.


[8] As a practical illustration of these facts it was calculated by
Professor Barker, of the University of Pennsylvania (after Edison
had invented the incandescent lamp), that if it should cost $100,000
for copper conductors to supply current to Edison lamps in
a given area, it would cost about $200,000,000 for copper conductors
for lighting the same area by lamps of the earlier experimenters
--such, for instance, as the lamp invented by Konn in 1875. This
enormous difference would be accounted for by the fact that
Edison's lamp was one having a high resistance and relatively
small radiating surface, while Konn's lamp was one having a very
low resistance and large radiating surface.



Continuing the digression one step farther in order
to explain the term "multiple arc," it may be stated
that there are two principal systems
of distributing electric current, one
termed "series," and the other
"multiple arc." The two are
illustrated, diagrammatically,
side by side, the
arrows indicating flow of
current. The series system,
it will be seen, presents
one continuous path
for the current. The current
for the last lamp
must pass through the
first and all the intermediate
lamps. Hence, if
any one light goes out,
the continuity of the path
is broken, current cannot
flow, and all the lamps
are extinguished unless a
loop or by-path is provided. It is quite
obvious that such a system would be
commercially impracticable where small
units, similar to gas jets, were employed. On the other
hand, in the multiple-arc system, current may be considered
as flowing in two parallel conductors like the
vertical sides of a ladder, the ends of which never
come together. Each lamp is placed in a separate
circuit across these two conductors, like a rung in
the ladder, thus making a separate and independent
path for the current in each case. Hence, if
a lamp goes out, only that individual subdivision, or
ladder step, is affected; just that one particular path
for the current is interrupted, but none of the other
lamps is interfered with. They remain lighted, each
one independent of the other. The reader will quite
readily understand, therefore, that a multiple-arc system
is the only one practically commercial where
electric light is to be used in small units like those
of gas or oil.

Such was the nature of the problem that confronted
Edison at the outset. There was nothing in the
whole world that in any way approximated a solution,
although the most brilliant minds in the electrical
art had been assiduously working on the subject
for a quarter of a century preceding. As already seen,
he came early to the conclusion that the only solution
lay in the use of a lamp of high resistance and
small radiating surface, and, with characteristic fervor
and energy, he attacked the problem from this
standpoint, having absolute faith in a successful outcome.
The mere fact that even with the successful
production of the electric lamp the assault on the
complete problem of commercial lighting would hardly
be begun did not deter him in the slightest. To
one of Edison's enthusiastic self-confidence the long
vista of difficulties ahead--we say it in all sincerity--
must have been alluring.

After having devoted several months to experimental
trials of carbon, at the end of 1878, as already
detailed, he turned his attention to the platinum
group of metals and began a series of experiments in
which he used chiefly platinum wire and iridium wire,
and alloys of refractory metals in the form of wire burners
for incandescent lamps. These metals have very
high fusing-points, and were found to last longer than
the carbon strips previously used when heated up to
incandescence by the electric current, although under
such conditions as were then possible they were
melted by excess of current after they had been
lighted a comparatively short time, either in the
open air or in such a vacuum as could be obtained
by means of the ordinary air-pump.

Nevertheless, Edison continued along this line of
experiment with unremitting vigor, making improvement
after improvement, until about April, 1879, he
devised a means whereby platinum wire of a given
length, which would melt in the open air when giving
a light equal to four candles, would emit a light of
twenty-five candle-power without fusion. This was
accomplished by introducing the platinum wire into
an all-glass globe, completely sealed and highly
exhausted of air, and passing a current through the
platinum wire while the vacuum was being made. In
this, which was a new and radical invention, we see
the first step toward the modern incandescent lamp.
The knowledge thus obtained that current passing
through the platinum during exhaustion would drive
out occluded gases (i.e., gases mechanically held in
or upon the metal), and increase the infusibility of
the platinum, led him to aim at securing greater perfection
in the vacuum, on the theory that the higher
the vacuum obtained, the higher would be the infusibility
of the platinum burner. And this fact also
was of the greatest importance in making successful
the final use of carbon, because without the subjection
of the carbon to the heating effect of current during
the formation of the vacuum, the presence of occluded
gases would have been a fatal obstacle.

Continuing these experiments with most fervent
zeal, taking no account of the passage of time, with
an utter disregard for meals, and but scanty hours
of sleep snatched reluctantly at odd periods of the
day or night, Edison kept his laboratory going without
cessation. A great variety of lamps was made
of the platinum-iridium type, mostly with thermal
devices to regulate the temperature of the burner and
prevent its being melted by an excess of current.
The study of apparatus for obtaining more perfect
vacua was unceasingly carried on, for Edison realized
that in this there lay a potent factor of ultimate
success. About August he had obtained a pump that
would produce a vacuum up to about the one-hundred-
thousandth part of an atmosphere, and some
time during the next month, or beginning of October,
had obtained one that would produce a vacuum up
to the one-millionth part of an atmosphere. It must
be remembered that the conditions necessary for
MAINTAINING this high vacuum were only made possible
by his invention of the one-piece all-glass globe,
in which all the joints were hermetically sealed
during its manufacture into a lamp, whereby a high
vacuum could be retained continuously for any
length of time.

In obtaining this perfection of vacuum apparatus,
Edison realized that he was approaching much nearer
to a solution of the problem. In his experiments with
the platinum-iridium lamps, he had been working all
the time toward the proposition of high resistance
and small radiating surface, until he had made a
lamp having thirty feet of fine platinum wire wound
upon a small bobbin of infusible material; but the
desired economy, simplicity, and durability were not
obtained in this manner, although at all times the
burner was maintained at a critically high temperature.
After attaining a high degree of perfection
with these lamps, he recognized their impracticable
character, and his mind reverted to the opinion he
had formed in his early experiments two years before
--viz., that carbon had the requisite resistance to
permit a very simple conductor to accomplish the
object if it could be used in the form of a hair-like
"filament," provided the filament itself could be
made sufficiently homogeneous. As we have already
seen, he could not use carbon successfully in his
earlier experiments, for the strips of carbon he then
employed, although they were much larger than
"filaments," would not stand, but were consumed in
a few minutes under the imperfect conditions then
at his command.

Now, however, that he had found means for obtaining
and maintaining high vacua, Edison immediately
went back to carbon, which from the first he
had conceived of as the ideal substance for a burner.
His next step proved conclusively the correctness of
his old deductions. On October 21, 1879, after many
patient trials, he carbonized a piece of cotton sewing-
thread bent into a loop or horseshoe form, and had it
sealed into a glass globe from which he exhausted the air
until a vacuum up to one-millionth of an atmosphere
was produced. This lamp, when put on the circuit,
lighted up brightly to incandescence and maintained
its integrity for over forty hours, and lo! the practical
incandescent lamp was born. The impossible, so
called, had been attained; subdivision of the electric-
light current was made practicable; the goal had
been reached; and one of the greatest inventions of
the century was completed. Up to this time Edison
had spent over $40,000 in his electric-light experiments,
but the results far more than justified the expenditure,
for with this lamp he made the discovery
that the FILAMENT of carbon, under the conditions of
high vacuum, was commercially stable and would
stand high temperatures without the disintegration
and oxidation that took place in all previous attempts
that he knew of for making an incandescent
burner out of carbon. Besides, this lamp possessed
the characteristics of high resistance and small radiating
surface, permitting economy in the outlay for
conductors, and requiring only a small current for
each unit of light--conditions that were absolutely
necessary of fulfilment in order to accomplish commercially
the subdivision of the electric-light current.

This slender, fragile, tenuous thread of brittle carbon,
glowing steadily and continuously with a soft
light agreeable to the eyes, was the tiny key that
opened the door to a world revolutionized in its interior
illumination. It was a triumphant vindication
of Edison's reasoning powers, his clear perceptions,
his insight into possibilities, and his inventive faculty,
all of which had already been productive of so many
startling, practical, and epoch-making inventions.
And now he had stepped over the threshold of a new
art which has since become so world-wide in its application
as to be an integral part of modern human
experience.[9]


[9] The following extract from Walker on Patents (4th edition)
will probably be of interest to the reader:

"Sec. 31a. A meritorious exception, to the rule of the last
section, is involved in the adjudicated validity of the Edison
incandescent-light patent. The carbon filament, which constitutes
the only new part of the combination of the second
claim of that patent, differs from the earlier carbon burners of
Sawyer and Man, only in having a diameter of one-sixty-fourth
of an inch or less, whereas the burners of Sawyer and Man had a
diameter of one-thirty-second of an inch or more. But that reduction
of one-half in diameter increased the resistance of the
burner FOURFOLD, and reduced its radiating surface TWOFOLD, and
thus increased eightfold, its ratio of resistance to radiating surface.
That eightfold increase of proportion enabled the resistance
of the conductor of electricity from the generator to
the burner to be increased eightfold, without any increase of
percentage of loss of energy in that conductor, or decrease of
percentage of development of heat in the burner; and thus enabled
the area of the cross-section of that conductor to be reduced
eightfold, and thus to be made with one-eighth of the amount of
copper or other metal, which would be required if the reduction
of diameter of the burner from one-thirty-second to one-sixty-
fourth of an inch had not been made. And that great reduction
in the size and cost of conductors, involved also a great difference
in the composition of the electric energy employed in the system;
that difference consisting in generating the necessary amount of
electrical energy with comparatively high electromotive force,
and comparatively low current, instead of contrariwise. For this
reason, the use of carbon filaments, one-sixty-fourth of an inch in
diameter or less, instead of carbon burners one-thirty-second of
an inch in diameter or more, not only worked an enormous economy
in conductors, but also necessitated a great change in generators,
and did both according to a philosophy, which Edison
was the first to know, and which is stated in this paragraph in its
simplest form and aspect, and which lies at the foundation of the
incandescent electric lighting of the world."


No sooner had the truth of this new principle been
established than the work to establish it firmly and
commercially was carried on more assiduously than
ever. The next immediate step was a further
investigation of the possibilities of improving the
quality of the carbon filament. Edison had previously
made a vast number of experiments with carbonized
paper for various electrical purposes, with
such good results that he once more turned to it and
now made fine filament-like loops of this material
which were put into other lamps. These proved
even more successful (commercially considered) than
the carbonized thread--so much so that after a number
of such lamps had been made and put through
severe tests, the manufacture of lamps from these
paper carbons was begun and carried on continuously.
This necessitated first the devising and making of a
large number of special tools for cutting the carbon
filaments and for making and putting together the
various parts of the lamps. Meantime, great excitement
had been caused in this country and in Europe
by the announcement of Edison's success. In the
Old World, scientists generally still declared the
impossibility of subdividing the electric-light current,
and in the public press Mr. Edison was denounced as
a dreamer. Other names of a less complimentary
nature were applied to him, even though his lamp
were actually in use, and the principle of commercial
incandescent lighting had been established.

Between October 21, 1879, and December 21, 1879,
some hundreds of these paper-carbon lamps had been
made and put into actual use, not only in the laboratory,
but in the streets and several residences at
Menlo Park, New Jersey, causing great excitement
and bringing many visitors from far and near. On
the latter date a full-page article appeared in the
New York Herald which so intensified the excited
feeling that Mr. Edison deemed it advisable to make
a public exhibition. On New Year's Eve, 1879,
special trains were run to Menlo Park by the Pennsylvania
Railroad, and over three thousand persons
took advantage of the opportunity to go out there
and witness this demonstration for themselves. In
this great crowd were many public officials and men
of prominence in all walks of life, who were enthusiastic
in their praises.

In the mean time, the mind that conceived and
made practical this invention could not rest content
with anything less than perfection, so far as it could
be realized. Edison was not satisfied with paper
carbons. They were not fully up to the ideal that
he had in mind. What he sought was a perfectly
uniform and homogeneous carbon, one like the "One-
Hoss Shay," that had no weak spots to break down
at inopportune times. He began to carbonize everything
in nature that he could lay hands on. In his
laboratory note-books are innumerable jottings of the
things that were carbonized and tried, such as tissue-
paper, soft paper, all kinds of cardboards, drawing-
paper of all grades, paper saturated with tar, all kinds
of threads, fish-line, threads rubbed with tarred lampblack,
fine threads plaited together in strands, cotton
soaked in boiling tar, lamp-wick, twine, tar and
lampblack mixed with a proportion of lime, vulcanized
fibre, celluloid, boxwood, cocoanut hair and
shell, spruce, hickory, baywood, cedar and maple
shavings, rosewood, punk, cork, bagging, flax, and
a host of other things. He also extended his searches
far into the realms of nature in the line of grasses,
plants, canes, and similar products, and in these
experiments at that time and later he carbonized, made
into lamps, and tested no fewer than six thousand
different species of vegetable growths.

The reasons for such prodigious research are not
apparent on the face of the subject, nor is this the
occasion to enter into an explanation, as that alone
would be sufficient to fill a fair-sized book. Suffice it
to say that Edison's omnivorous reading, keen observation,
power of assimilating facts and natural
phenomena, and skill in applying the knowledge thus
attained to whatever was in hand, now came into full
play in determining that the results he desired could
only be obtained in certain directions.

At this time he was investigating everything with
a microscope, and one day in the early part of 1880
he noticed upon a table in the laboratory an ordinary
palm-leaf fan. He picked it up and, looking it
over, observed that it had a binding rim made of
bamboo, cut from the outer edge of the cane; a very
long strip. He examined this, and then gave it to
one of his assistants, telling him to cut it up and get
out of it all the filaments he could, carbonize them,
put them into lamps, and try them. The results of
this trial were exceedingly successful, far better than
with anything else thus far used; indeed, so much so,
that after further experiments and microscopic
examinations Edison was convinced that he was now on
the right track for making a thoroughly stable,
commercial lamp; and shortly afterward he sent a man
to Japan to procure further supplies of bamboo. The
fascinating story of the bamboo hunt will be told
later; but even this bamboo lamp was only one item
of a complete system to be devised--a system that
has since completely revolutionized the art of interior
illumination.

Reference has been made in this chapter to the
preliminary study that Edison brought to bear on
the development of the gas art and industry. This
study was so exhaustive that one can only compare it
to the careful investigation made in advance by any
competent war staff of the elements of strength and
weakness, on both sides, in a possible campaign. A
popular idea of Edison that dies hard, pictures a
breezy, slap-dash, energetic inventor arriving at new
results by luck and intuition, making boastful
assertions and then winning out by mere chance. The
native simplicity of the man, the absence of pose and
ceremony, do much to strengthen this notion; but
the real truth is that while gifted with unusual imagination,
Edison's march to the goal of a new invention
is positively humdrum and monotonous in its
steady progress. No one ever saw Edison in a hurry;
no one ever saw him lazy; and that which he did with
slow, careful scrutiny six months ago, he will be doing
with just as much calm deliberation of research six
months hence--and six years hence if necessary. If,
for instance, he were asked to find the most perfect
pebble on the Atlantic shore of New Jersey, instead
of hunting here, there, and everywhere for the desired
object, we would no doubt find him patiently
screening the entire beach, sifting out the most perfect
stones and eventually, by gradual exclusion,
reaching the long-sought-for pebble; and the mere
fact that in this search years might be taken, would
not lessen his enthusiasm to the slightest extent.

In the "prospectus book" among the series of famous
note-books, all the references and data apply to
gas. The book is numbered 184, falls into the period
now dealt with, and runs along casually with items
spread out over two or three years. All these notes
refer specifically to "Electricity vs. Gas as General
Illuminants," and cover an astounding range of inquiry
and comment. One of the very first notes tells
the whole story: "Object, Edison to effect exact
imitation of all done by gas, so as to replace lighting
by gas by lighting by electricity. To improve the
illumination to such an extent as to meet all requirements
of natural, artificial, and commercial conditions."
A large programme, but fully executed!
The notes, it will be understood, are all in Edison's
handwriting. They go on to observe that "a general
system of distribution is the only possible means of
economical illumination," and they dismiss isolated-
plant lighting as in mills and factories as of so little
importance to the public--"we shall leave the con-
sideration of this out of this book." The shrewd
prophecy is made that gas will be manufactured less
for lighting, as the result of electrical competition,
and more and more for heating, etc., thus enlarging
its market and increasing its income. Comment is
made on kerosene and its cost, and all kinds of general
statistics are jotted down as desirable. Data are
to be obtained on lamp and dynamo efficiency, and
"Another review of the whole thing as worked out
upon pure science principles by Rowland, Young,
Trowbridge; also Rowland on the possibilities and
probabilities of cheaper production by better
manufacture--higher incandescence without decrease of
life of lamps." Notes are also made on meters and
motors. "It doesn't matter if electricity is used for
light or for power"; while small motors, it is observed,
can be used night or day, and small steam-engines are
inconvenient. Again the shrewd comment: "Generally
poorest district for light, best for power, thus
evening up whole city--the effect of this on investment."

It is pointed out that "Previous inventions failed--
necessities for commercial success and accomplishment
by Edison. Edison's great effort--not to make
a large light or a blinding light, but a small light
having the mildness of gas." Curves are then called
for of iron and copper investment--also energy
line--curves of candle-power and electromotive force;
curves on motors; graphic representation of the
consumption of gas January to December; tables and
formulae; representations graphically of what one
dollar will buy in different kinds of light; "table,
weight of copper required different distance, 100-ohm
lamp, 16 candles"; table with curves showing increased
economy by larger engine, higher power, etc.
There is not much that is dilettante about all this.
Note is made of an article in April, 1879, putting the
total amount of gas investment in the whole world
at that time at $1,500,000,000; which is now (1910)
about the amount of the electric-lighting investment
in the United States. Incidentally a note remarks:
"So unpleasant is the effect of the products of gas
that in the new Madison Square Theatre every gas
jet is ventilated by special tubes to carry away the
products of combustion." In short, there is no aspect
of the new problem to which Edison failed to apply
his acutest powers; and the speed with which the
new system was worked out and introduced was
simply due to his initial mastery of all the factors in
the older art. Luther Stieringer, an expert gas engineer
and inventor, whose services were early enlisted,
once said that Edison knew more about gas
than any other man he had ever met. The remark
is an evidence of the kind of preparation Edison gave
himself for his new task.



CHAPTER XII

MEMORIES OF MENLO PARK

FROM the spring of 1876 to 1886 Edison lived and
did his work at Menlo Park; and at this stage
of the narrative, midway in that interesting and
eventful period, it is appropriate to offer a few notes
and jottings on the place itself, around which tradition
is already weaving its fancies, just as at the time
the outpouring of new inventions from it invested
the name with sudden prominence and with the
glamour of romance. "In 1876 I moved," says Edison,
"to Menlo Park, New Jersey, on the Pennsylvania
Railroad, several miles below Elizabeth. The
move was due to trouble I had about rent. I had
rented a small shop in Newark, on the top floor of
a padlock factory, by the month. I gave notice that
I would give it up at the end of the month, paid the
rent, moved out, and delivered the keys. Shortly
afterward I was served with a paper, probably a
judgment, wherein I was to pay nine months' rent.
There was some law, it seems, that made a monthly
renter liable for a year. This seemed so unjust that I
determined to get out of a place that permitted such
injustice." For several Sundays he walked through
different parts of New Jersey with two of his assistants
before he decided on Menlo Park. The change was
a fortunate one, for the inventor had married Miss
Mary E. Stillwell, and was now able to establish himself
comfortably with his wife and family while enjoying
immediate access to the new laboratory. Every
moment thus saved was valuable.

To-day the place and region have gone back to the
insignificance from which Edison's genius lifted them
so startlingly. A glance from the car windows
reveals only a gently rolling landscape dotted with
modest residences and unpretentious barns; and
there is nothing in sight by way of memorial to suggest
that for nearly a decade this spot was the scene
of the most concentrated and fruitful inventive activity
the world has ever known. Close to the Menlo Park
railway station is a group of gaunt and deserted buildings,
shelter of the casual tramp, and slowly crumbling
away when not destroyed by the carelessness of
some ragged smoker. This silent group of buildings
comprises the famous old laboratory and workshops
of Mr. Edison, historic as being the birthplace of the
carbon transmitter, the phonograph, the incandescent
lamp, and the spot where Edison also worked
out his systems of electrical distribution, his
commercial dynamo, his electric railway, his megaphone,
his tasimeter, and many other inventions of greater
or lesser degree. Here he continued, moreover, his
earlier work on the quadruplex, sextuplex, multiplex,
and automatic telegraphs, and did his notable pioneer
work in wireless telegraphy. As the reader knows,
it had been a master passion with Edison from boyhood
up to possess a laboratory, in which with free
use of his own time and powers, and with command
of abundant material resources, he could wrestle with
Nature and probe her closest secrets. Thus, from the
little cellar at Port Huron, from the scant shelves in
a baggage car, from the nooks and corners of dingy
telegraph offices, and the grimy little shops in New
York and Newark, he had now come to the proud
ownership of an establishment to which his favorite
word "laboratory" might justly be applied. Here
he could experiment to his heart's content and invent
on a larger, bolder scale than ever--and he did!

Menlo Park was the merest hamlet. Omitting the
laboratory structures, it had only about seven houses,
the best looking of which Edison lived in, a place that
had a windmill pumping water into a reservoir. One
of the stories of the day was that Edison had his
front gate so connected with the pumping plant that
every visitor as he opened or closed the gate added
involuntarily to the supply in the reservoir. Two or
three of the houses were occupied by the families of
members of the staff; in the others boarders were
taken, the laboratory, of course, furnishing all the
patrons. Near the railway station was a small
saloon kept by an old Scotchman named Davis,
where billiards were played in idle moments, and
where in the long winter evenings the hot stove was
a centre of attraction to loungers and story-tellers.
The truth is that there was very little social life of
any kind possible under the strenuous conditions prevailing
at the laboratory, where, if anywhere, relaxation
was enjoyed at odd intervals of fatigue and waiting.

The main laboratory was a spacious wooden building
of two floors. The office was in this building at
first, until removed to the brick library when that
was finished. There S. L. Griffin, an old telegraph
friend of Edison, acted as his secretary and had charge
of a voluminous and amazing correspondence. The
office employees were the Carman brothers and the
late John F. Randolph, afterwards secretary. According
to Mr. Francis Jehl, of Budapest, then one of the
staff, to whom the writers are indebted for a great
deal of valuable data on this period: "It was on the
upper story of this laboratory that the most important
experiments were executed, and where the incandescent
lamp was born. This floor consisted of a
large hall containing several long tables, upon which
could be found all the various instruments, scientific
and chemical apparatus that the arts at that time
could produce. Books lay promiscuously about,
while here and there long lines of bichromate-of-
potash cells could be seen, together with experimental
models of ideas that Edison or his assistants were
engaged upon. The side walls of this hall were lined
with shelves filled with bottles, phials, and other
receptacles containing every imaginable chemical and
other material that could be obtained, while at the
end of this hall, and near the organ which stood in
the rear, was a large glass case containing the world's
most precious metals in sheet and wire form, together
with very rare and costly chemicals. When evening
came on, and the last rays of the setting sun penetrated
through the side windows, this hall looked like
a veritable Faust laboratory.

"On the ground floor we had our testing-table,
which stood on two large pillars of brick built deep
into the earth in order to get rid of all vibrations on
account of the sensitive instruments that were upon
it. There was the Thomson reflecting mirror galvanometer
and electrometer, while nearby were the
standard cells by which the galvanometers were
adjusted and standardized. This testing-table was
connected by means of wires with all parts of the
laboratory and machine-shop, so that measurements
could be conveniently made from a distance, as in
those days we had no portable and direct-reading
instruments, such as now exist. Opposite this table we
installed, later on, our photometrical chamber, which
was constructed on the Bunsen principle. A little
way from this table, and separated by a partition,
we had the chemical laboratory with its furnaces and
stink-chambers. Later on another chemical laboratory
was installed near the photometer-room, and this
Dr. A. Haid had charge of."

Next to the laboratory in importance was the machine-
shop, a large and well-lighted building of brick,
at one end of which there was the boiler and engine-
room. This shop contained light and heavy lathes,
boring and drilling machines, all kinds of planing
machines; in fact, tools of all descriptions, so that
any apparatus, however delicate or heavy, could be
made and built as might be required by Edison in
experimenting. Mr. John Kruesi had charge of this
shop, and was assisted by a number of skilled mechanics,
notably John Ott, whose deft fingers and
quick intuitive grasp of the master's ideas are still
in demand under the more recent conditions at the
Llewellyn Park laboratory in Orange.

Between the machine-shop and the laboratory was
a small building of wood used as a carpenter-shop,
where Tom Logan plied his art. Nearby was the
gasoline plant. Before the incandescent lamp was
perfected, the only illumination was from gasoline
gas; and that was used later for incandescent-lamp
glass-blowing, which was done in another small building
on one side of the laboratory. Apparently little
or no lighting service was obtained from the Wallace-
Farmer arc lamps secured from Ansonia, Connecticut.
The dynamo was probably needed for Edison's own
experiments.

On the outskirts of the property was a small building
in which lampblack was crudely but carefully
manufactured and pressed into very small cakes, for
use in the Edison carbon transmitters of that time.
The night-watchman, Alfred Swanson, took care of
this curious plant, which consisted of a battery of
petroleum lamps that were forced to burn to the
sooting point. During his rounds in the night Swanson
would find time to collect from the chimneys the
soot that the lamps gave. It was then weighed out
into very small portions, which were pressed into
cakes or buttons by means of a hand-press. These
little cakes were delicately packed away between
layers of cotton in small, light boxes and shipped to
Bergmann in New York, by whom the telephone
transmitters were being made. A little later the Edison
electric railway was built on the confines of the
property out through the woods, at first only a third
of a mile in length, but reaching ultimately to Pumptown,
almost three miles away.

Mr. Edison's own words may be quoted as to the
men with whom he surrounded himself here and
upon whose services he depended principally for help
in the accomplishment of his aims. In an autobiographical
article in the Electrical World of March 5,
1904, he says: "It is interesting to note that in
addition to those mentioned above (Charles Batchelor
and Frank Upton), I had around me other men who
ever since have remained active in the field, such as
Messrs. Francis Jehl, William J. Hammer, Martin
Force, Ludwig K. Boehm, not forgetting that good
friend and co-worker, the late John Kruesi. They
found plenty to do in the various developments of
the art, and as I now look back I sometimes wonder
how we did so much in so short a time." Mr. Jehl
in his reminiscences adds another name to the above
--namely, that of John W. Lawson, and then goes on
to say: "These are the names of the pioneers of
incandescent lighting, who were continuously at the
side of Edison day and night for some years, and who,
under his guidance, worked upon the carbon-filament
lamp from its birth to ripe maturity. These men all
had complete faith in his ability and stood by him
as on a rock, guarding their work with the secretiveness
of a burglar-proof safe. Whenever it leaked out
in the world that Edison was succeeding in his work on
the electric light, spies and others came to the Park;
so it was of the utmost importance that the experiments
and their results should be kept a secret until
Edison had secured the protection of the Patent
Office." With this staff was associated from the first
Mr. E. H. Johnson, whose work with Mr. Edison lay
chiefly, however, outside the laboratory, taking him
to all parts of the country and to Europe. There were
also to be regarded as detached members of it the
Bergmann brothers, manufacturing for Mr. Edison in
New York, and incessantly experimenting for him.
In addition there must be included Mr. Samuel Insull,
whose activities for many years as private secretary
and financial manager were devoted solely to Mr.
Edison's interests, with Menlo Park as a centre and
main source of anxiety as to pay-rolls and other
constantly recurring obligations. The names of yet
other associates occur from time to time in this
narrative--"Edison men" who have been very proud
of their close relationship to the inventor and his
work at old Menlo. "There was also Mr. Charles L.
Clarke, who devoted himself mainly to engineering
matters, and later on acted as chief engineer of the
Edison Electric Light Company for some years.
Then there were William Holzer and James Hipple,
both of whom took an active part in the practical
development of the glass-blowing department of the
laboratory, and, subsequently, at the first Edison
lamp factory at Menlo Park. Later on Messrs. Jehl,
Hipple, and Force assisted Mr. Batchelor to install
the lamp-works of the French Edison Company at
Ivry-sur-Seine. Then there were Messrs. Charles T.
Hughes, Samuel D. Mott, and Charles T. Mott, who
devoted their time chiefly to commercial affairs. Mr.
Hughes conducted most of this work, and later on took
a prominent part in Edison's electric-railway
experiments. His business ability was on a high level,
while his personal character endeared him to us all.

Among other now well-known men who came to us
and assisted in various kinds of work were Messrs.
Acheson, Worth, Crosby, Herrick, and Hill, while
Doctor Haid was placed by Mr. Edison in charge of
a special chemical laboratory. Dr. E. L. Nichols
was also with us for a short time conducting a special
series of experiments. There was also Mr. Isaacs,
who did a great deal of photographic work, and to
whom we must be thankful for the pictures of Menlo
Park in connection with Edison's work.

"Among others who were added to Mr. Kruesi's
staff in the machine-shop were Messrs. J. H. Vail and
W. S. Andrews. Mr. Vail had charge of the dynamo-
room. He had a good general knowledge of machinery,
and very soon acquired such familiarity with the
dynamos that he could skip about among them with
astonishing agility to regulate their brushes or to
throw rosin on the belts when they began to squeal.
Later on he took an active part in the affairs and
installations of the Edison Light Company. Mr.
Andrews stayed on Mr. Kruesi's staff as long as the
laboratory machine-shop was kept open, after which
he went into the employ of the Edison Electric Light
Company and became actively engaged in the commercial
and technical exploitation of the system.
Another man who was with us at Menlo Park was Mr.
Herman Claudius, an Austrian, who at one time was
employed in connection with the State Telegraphs of
his country. To him Mr. Edison assigned the task
of making a complete model of the network of
conductors for the contemplated first station in New
York."

Mr. Francis R. Upton, who was early employed by
Mr. Edison as his mathematician, furnishes a pleasant,
vivid picture of his chief associates engaged on
the memorable work at Menlo Park. He says: "Mr.
Charles Batchelor was Mr. Edison's principal assistant
at that time. He was an Englishman, and came
to this country to set up the thread-weaving machinery
for the Clark thread-works. He was a most
intelligent, patient, competent, and loyal assistant to
Mr. Edison. I remember distinctly seeing him work
many hours to mount a small filament; and his hand
would be as steady and his patience as unyielding at
the end of those many hours as it was at the beginning,
in spite of repeated failures. He was a wonderful
mechanic; the control that he had of his fingers
was marvellous, and his eyesight was sharp. Mr.
Batchelor's judgment and good sense were always
in evidence.

"Mr. Kruesi was the superintendent, a Swiss trained
in the best Swiss ideas of accuracy. He was a splendid
mechanic with a vigorous temper, and wonderful
ability to work continuously and to get work out of
men. It was an ideal combination, that of Edison,
Batchelor, and Kruesi. Mr. Edison with his wonderful
flow of ideas which were sharply defined in his
mind, as can be seen by any of the sketches that he
made, as he evidently always thinks in three dimensions;
Mr. Kruesi, willing to take the ideas, and
capable of comprehending them, would distribute
the work so as to get it done with marvellous quickness
and great accuracy. Mr. Batchelor was always
ready for any special fine experimenting or observa-
tion, and could hold to whatever he was at as long
as Mr. Edison wished; and always brought to bear
on what he was at the greatest skill."

While Edison depended upon Upton for his mathematical
work, he was wont to check it up in a very
practical manner, as evidenced by the following incident
described by Mr. Jehl: "I was once with Mr.
Upton calculating some tables which he had put me
on, when Mr. Edison appeared with a glass bulb
having a pear-shaped appearance in his hand. It was
the kind that we were going to use for our lamp
experiments; and Mr. Edison asked Mr. Upton to
please calculate for him its cubic contents in centimetres.
Now Mr. Upton was a very able mathematician,
who, after he finished his studies at Princeton,
went to Germany and got his final gloss under
that great master, Helmholtz. Whatever he did and
worked on was executed in a pure mathematical
manner, and any wrangler at Oxford would have been
delighted to see him juggle with integral and differential
equations, with a dexterity that was surprising.
He drew the shape of the bulb exactly on paper,
and got the equation of its lines with which he was
going to calculate its contents, when Mr. Edison again
appeared and asked him what it was. He showed
Edison the work he had already done on the subject,
and told him that he would very soon finish calculating
it. `Why,' said Edison, `I would simply take
that bulb and fill it with mercury and weigh it; and
from the weight of the mercury and its specific gravity
I'll get it in five minutes, and use less mental energy
than is necessary in such a fatiguing operation.' "

Menlo Park became ultimately the centre of Edison's
business life as it was of his inventing. After
the short distasteful period during the introduction
of his lighting system, when he spent a large part of
his time at the offices at 65 Fifth Avenue, New York,
or on the actual work connected with the New York
Edison installation, he settled back again in Menlo
Park altogether. Mr. Samuel Insull describes the
business methods which prevailed throughout the
earlier Menlo Park days of "storm and stress," and
the curious conditions with which he had to deal as
private secretary: "I never attempted to systematize
Edison's business life. Edison's whole method
of work would upset the system of any office. He
was just as likely to be at work in his laboratory at
midnight as midday. He cared not for the hours of
the day or the days of the week. If he was exhausted
he might more likely be asleep in the middle of the
day than in the middle of the night, as most of his
work in the way of inventions was done at night. I
used to run his office on as close business methods as
my experience admitted; and I would get at him
whenever it suited his convenience. Sometimes he
would not go over his mail for days at a time; but
other times he would go regularly to his office in the
morning. At other times my engagements used to
be with him to go over his business affairs at Menlo
Park at night, if I was occupied in New York during
the day. In fact, as a matter of convenience I used
more often to get at him at night, as it left my days
free to transact his affairs, and enabled me, probably
at a midnight luncheon, to get a few minutes of his
time to look over his correspondence and get his
directions as to what I should do in some particular
negotiation or matter of finance. While it was a
matter of suiting Edison's convenience as to when I
should transact business with him, it also suited my
own ideas, as it enabled me after getting through my
business with him to enjoy the privilege of watching
him at his work, and to learn something about the
technical side of matters. Whatever knowledge I
may have of the electric light and power industry I
feel I owe it to the tuition of Edison. He was about
the most willing tutor, and I must confess that he
had to be a patient one."

Here again occurs the reference to the incessant
night-work at Menlo Park, a note that is struck in
every reminiscence and in every record of the time.
But it is not to be inferred that the atmosphere of
grim determination and persistent pursuit of the new
invention characteristic of this period made life a
burden to the small family of laborers associated with
Edison. Many a time during the long, weary nights
of experimenting Edison would call a halt for
refreshments, which he had ordered always to be sent
in when night-work was in progress. Everything
would be dropped, all present would join in the meal,
and the last good story or joke would pass around.
In his notes Mr. Jehl says: "Our lunch always ended
with a cigar, and I may mention here that although
Edison was never fastidious in eating, he always
relished a good cigar, and seemed to find in it
consolation and solace.... It often happened that while
we were enjoying the cigars after our midnight re-
past, one of the boys would start up a tune on the
organ and we would all sing together, or one of the
others would give a solo. Another of the boys had
a voice that sounded like something between the ring
of an old tomato can and a pewter jug. He had one
song that he would sing while we roared with laughter.
He was also great in imitating the tin-foil
phonograph.... When Boehm was in good-humor he would
play his zither now and then, and amuse us by singing
pretty German songs. On many of these occasions
the laboratory was the rendezvous of jolly and
convivial visitors, mostly old friends and acquaintances
of Mr. Edison. Some of the office employees
would also drop in once in a while, and as everybody
present was always welcome to partake of the midnight
meal, we all enjoyed these gatherings. After
a while, when we were ready to resume work, our
visitors would intimate that they were going home
to bed, but we fellows could stay up and work, and
they would depart, generally singing some song like
Good-night, ladies! . . . It often happened that when
Edison had been working up to three or four o'clock
in the morning, he would lie down on one of the
laboratory tables, and with nothing but a couple of
books for a pillow, would fall into a sound sleep.
He said it did him more good than being in a soft
bed, which spoils a man. Some of the laboratory
assistants could be seen now and then sleeping on a
table in the early morning hours. If their snoring
became objectionable to those still at work, the
`calmer' was applied. This machine consisted of a
Babbitt's soap box without a cover. Upon it was
mounted a broad ratchet-wheel with a crank, while
into the teeth of the wheel there played a stout,
elastic slab of wood. The box would be placed on
the table where the snorer was sleeping and the crank
turned rapidly. The racket thus produced was something
terrible, and the sleeper would jump up as
though a typhoon had struck the laboratory. The
irrepressible spirit of humor in the old days, although
somewhat strenuous at times, caused many a moment
of hilarity which seemed to refresh the boys, and
enabled them to work with renewed vigor after its
manifestation." Mr. Upton remarks that often during
the period of the invention of the incandescent
lamp, when under great strain and fatigue, Edison
would go to the organ and play tunes in a primitive
way, and come back to crack jokes with the staff.
"But I have often felt that Mr. Edison never could
comprehend the limitations of the strength of other
men, as his own physical and mental strength have
always seemed to be without limit. He could work
continuously as long as he wished, and had sleep at
his command. His sleep was always instant, profound,
and restful. He has told me that he never
dreamed. I have known Mr. Edison now for thirty-one
years, and feel that he has always kept his mind direct
and simple, going straight to the root of troubles.
One of the peculiarities I have noticed is that I have
never known him to break into a conversation going
on around him, and ask what people were talking
about. The nearest he would ever come to it was
when there had evidently been some story told, and
his face would express a desire to join in the laugh,
which would immediately invite telling the story to
him."

Next to those who worked with Edison at the laboratory
and were with him constantly at Menlo Park
were the visitors, some of whom were his business
associates, some of them scientific men, and some of
them hero-worshippers and curiosity-hunters. Foremost
in the first category was Mr. E. H. Johnson,
who was in reality Edison's most intimate friend, and
was required for constant consultation; but whose
intense activity, remarkable grasp of electrical
principles, and unusual powers of exposition, led to his
frequent detachment for long trips, including those
which resulted in the introduction of the telephone,
phonograph, and electric light in England and on
the Continent. A less frequent visitor was Mr. S.
Bergmann, who had all he needed to occupy his time
in experimenting and manufacturing, and whose
contemporaneous Wooster Street letter-heads advertised
Edison's inventions as being made there, Among
the scientists were Prof. George F. Barker, of Philadelphia,
a big, good-natured philosopher, whose valuable
advice Edison esteemed highly. In sharp contrast
to him was the earnest, serious Rowland, of
Johns Hopkins University, afterward the leading
American physicist of his day. Profs. C. F. Brackett
and C. F. Young, of Princeton University, were often
received, always interested in what Edison was doing,
and proud that one of their own students, Mr. Upton,
was taking such a prominent part in the development
of the work.

Soon after the success of the lighting experiments
and the installation at Menlo Park became known,
Edison was besieged by persons from all parts of the
world anxious to secure rights and concessions for
their respective countries. Among these was Mr.
Louis Rau, of Paris, who organized the French Edison
Company, the pioneer Edison lighting corporation
in Europe, and who, with the aid of Mr. Batchelor,
established lamp-works and a machine-shop at Ivry
sur-Seine, near Paris, in 1882. It was there that Mr.
Nikola Tesla made his entree into the field of light
and power, and began his own career as an inventor;
and there also Mr. Etienne Fodor, general manager
of the Hungarian General Electric Company at Budapest,
received his early training. It was he who
erected at Athens the first European Edison station
on the now universal three-wire system. Another
visitor from Europe, a little later, was Mr. Emil
Rathenau, the present director of the great
Allgemeine Elektricitaets Gesellschaft of Germany. He
secured the rights for the empire, and organized the
Berlin Edison system, now one of the largest in the
world. Through his extraordinary energy and enterprise
the business made enormous strides, and Mr.
Rathenau has become one of the most conspicuous
industrial figures in his native country. From Italy
came Professor Colombo, later a cabinet minister,
with his friend Signor Buzzi, of Milan. The rights
were secured for the peninsula; Colombo and his
friends organized the Italian Edison Company, and
erected at Milan the first central station in that
country. Mr. John W. Lieb, Jr., now a vice-president
of the New York Edison Company, was sent
over by Mr. Edison to steer the enterprise technically,
and spent ten years in building it up, with such brilliant
success that he was later decorated as Commander
of the Order of the Crown of Italy by King
Victor. Another young American enlisted into European
service was Mr. E. G. Acheson, the inventor of
carborundum, who built a number of plants in Italy
and France before he returned home. Mr. Lieb has
since become President of the American Institute of
Electrical Engineers and the Association of Edison
Illuminating Companies, while Doctor Acheson has
been President of the American Electrochemical
Society.

Switzerland sent Messrs. Turrettini, Biedermann,
and Thury, all distinguished engineers, to negotiate
for rights in the republic; and so it went with regard
to all the other countries of Europe, as well as those
of South America. It was a question of keeping such
visitors away rather than of inviting them to take
up the exploitation of the Edison system; for what
time was not spent in personal interviews was required
for the masses of letters from every country
under the sun, all making inquiries, offering suggestions,
proposing terms. Nor were the visitors merely
those on business bent. There were the lion-hunters
and celebrities, of whom Sarah Bernhardt may serve
as a type. One visit of note was that paid by Lieut.
G. W. De Long, who had an earnest and protracted
conversation with Edison over the Arctic expedition he
was undertaking with the aid of Mr. James Gordon
Bennett, of the New York Herald. The Jeannette was
being fitted out, and Edison told De Long that he
would make and present him with a small dynamo
machine, some incandescent lamps, and an arc lamp.
While the little dynamo was being built all the men
in the laboratory wrote their names on the paper
insulation that was wound upon the iron core of the
armature. As the Jeannette had no steam-engine on
board that could be used for the purpose, Edison
designed the dynamo so that it could be worked by
man power and told Lieutenant De Long "it would
keep the boys warm up in the Arctic," when they
generated current with it. The ill-fated ship never
returned from her voyage, but went down in the icy
waters of the North, there to remain until some
future cataclysm of nature, ten thousand years
hence, shall reveal the ship and the first marine
dynamo as curious relics of a remote civilization.

Edison also furnished De Long with a set of telephones
provided with extensible circuits, so that
parties on the ice-floes could go long distances from
the ship and still keep in communication with her.
So far as the writers can ascertain this is the first
example of "field telephony." Another nautical experiment
that he made at this time, suggested probably
by the requirements of the Arctic expedition,
was a buoy that was floated in New York harbor,
and which contained a small Edison dynamo and two
or three incandescent lamps. The dynamo was
driven by the wave or tide motion through intermediate
mechanism, and thus the lamps were lit up
from time to time, serving as signals. These were the
prototypes of the lighted buoys which have since
become familiar, as in the channel off Sandy Hook.

One notable afternoon was that on which the
New York board of aldermen took a special train out
to Menlo Park to see the lighting system with its
conductors underground in operation. The Edison Electric
Illuminating Company was applying for a franchise,
and the aldermen, for lack of scientific training and
specific practical information, were very sceptical on
the subject--as indeed they might well be. "Mr.
Edison demonstrated personally the details and
merits of the system to them. The voltage was increased
to a higher pressure than usual, and all the
incandescent lamps at Menlo Park did their best to
win the approbation of the New York City fathers.
After Edison had finished exhibiting all the good
points of his system, he conducted his guests upstairs
in the laboratory, where a long table was
spread with the best things that one of the most
prominent New York caterers could furnish. The
laboratory witnessed high times that night, for all
were in the best of humor, and many a bottle was
drained in toasting the health of Edison and the
aldermen." This was one of the extremely rare
occasions on which Edison has addressed an audience;
but the stake was worth the effort. The representatives
of New York could with justice drink the health
of the young inventor, whose system is one of the
greatest boons the city has ever had conferred upon it.

Among other frequent visitors was Mr, Edison's
father, "one of those amiable, patriarchal characters
with a Horace Greeley beard, typical Americans of
the old school," who would sometimes come into the
laboratory with his two grandchildren, a little boy
and girl called "Dash" and "Dot." He preferred
to sit and watch his brilliant son at work "with an
expression of satisfaction on his face that indicated
a sense of happiness and content that his boy, born
in that distant, humble home in Ohio, had risen to
fame and brought such honor upon the name. It
was, indeed, a pathetic sight to see a father venerate
his son as the elder Edison did." Not less at home
was Mr. Mackenzie, the Mt. Clemens station agent,
the life of whose child Edison had saved when a train
newsboy. The old Scotchman was one of the innocent,
chartered libertines of the place, with an unlimited
stock of good jokes and stories, but seldom
of any practical use. On one occasion, however, when
everything possible and impossible under the sun was
being carbonized for lamp filaments, he allowed a
handful of his bushy red beard to be taken for the
purpose; and his laugh was the loudest when the
Edison-Mackenzie hair lamps were brought up to
incandescence--their richness in red rays being slyly
attributed to the nature of the filamentary material!
Oddly enough, a few years later, some inventor
actually took out a patent for making incandescent
lamps with carbonized hair for filaments!

Yet other visitors again haunted the place, and
with the following reminiscence of one of them, from
Mr. Edison himself, this part of the chapter must
close: "At Menlo Park one cold winter night there
came into the laboratory a strange man in a most
pitiful condition. He was nearly frozen, and he asked
if he might sit by the stove. In a few moments he
asked for the head man, and I was brought forward.
He had a head of abnormal size, with highly intellectual
features and a very small and emaciated body.
He said he was suffering very much, and asked if I
had any morphine. As I had about everything in
chemistry that could be bought, I told him I had.
He requested that I give him some, so I got the
morphine sulphate. He poured out enough to kill
two men, when I told him that we didn't keep a hotel
for suicides, and he had better cut the quantity down.
He then bared his legs and arms, and they were literally
pitted with scars, due to the use of hypodermic
syringes. He said he had taken it for years, and it
required a big dose to have any effect. I let him go
ahead. In a short while he seemed like another man
and began to tell stories, and there were about fifty
of us who sat around listening until morning. He
was a man of great intelligence and education. He
said he was a Jew, but there was no distinctive feature
to verify this assertion. He continued to stay around
until he finished every combination of morphine with
an acid that I had, probably ten ounces all told.
Then he asked if he could have strychnine. I had
an ounce of the sulphate. He took enough to kill a
horse, and asserted it had as good an effect as
morphine. When this was gone, the only thing I had
left was a chunk of crude opium, perhaps two or
three pounds. He chewed this up and disappeared.
I was greatly disappointed, because I would have
laid in another stock of morphine to keep him at the
laboratory. About a week afterward he was found
dead in a barn at Perth Amboy."

Returning to the work itself, note of which has al-
ready been made in this and preceding chapters, we
find an interesting and unique reminiscence in Mr.
Jehl's notes of the reversion to carbon as a filament
in the lamps, following an exhibition of metallic-
filament lamps given in the spring of 1879 to the men
in the syndicate advancing the funds for these
experiments: "They came to Menlo Park on a late
afternoon train from New York. It was already
dark when they were conducted into the machine-
shop, where we had several platinum lamps installed
in series. When Edison had finished explaining the
principles and details of the lamp, he asked Kruesi to
let the dynamo machine run. It was of the Gramme
type, as our first dynamo of the Edison design was
not yet finished. Edison then ordered the `juice'
to be turned on slowly. To-day I can see those lamps
rising to a cherry red, like glowbugs, and hear Mr.
Edison saying `a little more juice,' and the lamps
began to glow. `A little more' is the command
again, and then one of the lamps emits for an instant
a light like a star in the distance, after which there is
an eruption and a puff; and the machine-shop is in
total darkness. We knew instantly which lamp had
failed, and Batchelor replaced that by a good one,
having a few in reserve near by. The operation was
repeated two or three times with about the same
results, after which the party went into the library
until it was time to catch the train for New York."

Such an exhibition was decidedly discouraging,
and it was not a jubilant party that returned to New
York, but: "That night Edison remained in the
laboratory meditating upon the results that the
platinum lamp had given so far. I was engaged reading
a book near a table in the front, while Edison was
seated in a chair by a table near the organ. With
his head turned downward, and that conspicuous
lock of hair hanging loosely on one side, he looked
like Napoleon in the celebrated picture, On the Eve
of a Great Battle. Those days were heroic ones, for
he then battled against mighty odds, and the prospects
were dim and not very encouraging. In cases
of emergency Edison always possessed a keen faculty
of deciding immediately and correctly what to do;
and the decision he then arrived at was predestined
to be the turning-point that led him on to ultimate
success.... After that exhibition we had a house-
cleaning at the laboratory, and the metallic-filament
lamps were stored away, while preparations were
made for our experiments on carbon lamps."

Thus the work went on. Menlo Park has hitherto
been associated in the public thought with the
telephone, phonograph, and incandescent lamp; but it
was there, equally, that the Edison dynamo and
system of distribution were created and applied to
their specific purposes. While all this study of a
possible lamp was going on, Mr. Upton was busy
calculating the economy of the "multiple arc" system,
and making a great many tables to determine what
resistance a lamp should have for the best results,
and at what point the proposed general system would
fall off in economy when the lamps were of the lower
resistance that was then generally assumed to be
necessary. The world at that time had not the
shadow of an idea as to what the principles of a
multiple arc system should be, enabling millions of
lamps to be lighted off distributing circuits, each
lamp independent of every other; but at Menlo Park
at that remote period in the seventies Mr. Edison's
mathematician was formulating the inventor's
conception in clear, instructive figures; "and the work
then executed has held its own ever since." From
the beginning of his experiments on electric light,
Mr. Edison had a well-defined idea of producing not
only a practicable lamp, but also a SYSTEM of
commercial electric lighting. Such a scheme involved the
creation of an entirely new art, for there was nothing
on the face of the earth from which to draw assistance
or precedent, unless we except the elementary forms
of dynamos then in existence. It is true, there were
several types of machines in use for the then very
limited field of arc lighting, but they were regarded
as valueless as a part of a great comprehensive scheme
which could supply everybody with light. Such
machines were confessedly inefficient, although
representing the farthest reach of a young art. A
commission appointed at that time by the Franklin
Institute, and including Prof. Elihu Thomson,
investigated the merits of existing dynamos and
reported as to the best of them: "The Gramme machine
is the most economical as a means of converting
motive force into electricity; it utilizes in the arc
from 38 to 41 per cent. of the motive work produced,
after deduction is made for friction and the resistance
of the air." They reported also that the Brush arc
lighting machine "produces in the luminous arc useful
work equivalent to 31 per cent. of the motive
power employed, or to 38 1/2 per cent. after the friction
has been deducted." Commercial possibilities could
not exist in the face of such low economy as this, and
Mr. Edison realized that he would have to improve
the dynamo himself if he wanted a better machine.
The scientific world at that time was engaged in a
controversy regarding the external and internal resistance
of a circuit in which a generator was situated.
Discussing the subject Mr. Jehl, in his biographical
notes, says: "While this controversy raged in the
scientific papers, and criticism and confusion seemed
at its height, Edison and Upton discussed this question
very thoroughly, and Edison declared he did
not intend to build up a system of distribution in
which the external resistance would be equal to the
internal resistance. He said he was just about going
to do the opposite; he wanted a large external
resistance and a low internal one. He said he wanted
to sell the energy outside of the station and not waste
it in the dynamo and conductors, where it brought
no profits.... In these later days, when these ideas
of Edison are used as common property, and are applied
in every modern system of distribution, it is
astonishing to remember that when they were
propounded they met with most vehement antagonism
from the world at large." Edison, familiar with batteries
in telegraphy, could not bring himself to believe
that any substitute generator of electrical energy
could be efficient that used up half its own possible
output before doing an equal amount of outside
work.

Undaunted by the dicta of contemporaneous
science, Mr. Edison attacked the dynamo problem
with his accustomed vigor and thoroughness. He
chose the drum form for his armature, and experimented
with different kinds of iron. Cores were made
of cast iron, others of forged iron; and still others of
sheets of iron of various thicknesses separated from
each other by paper or paint. These cores were then
allowed to run in an excited field, and after a given
time their temperature was measured and noted.
By such practical methods Edison found that the
thin, laminated cores of sheet iron gave the least
heat, and had the least amount of wasteful eddy
currents. His experiments and ideas on magnetism
at that period were far in advance of the time. His
work and tests regarding magnetism were repeated
later on by Hopkinson and Kapp, who then elucidated
the whole theory mathematically by means of
formulae and constants. Before this, however, Edison
had attained these results by pioneer work, founded
on his original reasoning, and utilized them in the
construction of his dynamo, thus revolutionizing the
art of building such machines.

After thorough investigation of the magnetic qualities
of different kinds of iron, Edison began to make
a study of winding the cores, first determining the
electromotive force generated per turn of wire at
various speeds in fields of different intensities. He
also considered various forms and shapes for the armature,
and by methodical and systematic research obtained
the data and best conditions upon which he
could build his generator. In the field magnets of
his dynamo he constructed the cores and yoke of
forged iron having a very large cross-section, which
was a new thing in those days. Great attention was
also paid to all the joints, which were smoothed down
so as to make a perfect magnetic contact. The Edison
dynamo, with its large masses of iron, was a vivid
contrast to the then existing types with their meagre
quantities of the ferric element. Edison also made
tests on his field magnets by slowly raising the strength
of the exciting current, so that he obtained figures
similar to those shown by a magnetic curve, and in
this way found where saturation commenced, and
where it was useless to expend more current on the
field. If he had asked Upton at the time to formulate
the results of his work in this direction, for publication,
he would have anticipated the historic work
on magnetism that was executed by the two other
investigators; Hopkinson and Kapp, later on.

The laboratory note-books of the period bear
abundant evidence of the systematic and searching
nature of these experiments and investigations, in the
hundreds of pages of notes, sketches, calculations,
and tables made at the time by Edison, Upton,
Batchelor, Jehl, and by others who from time to time
were intrusted with special experiments to elucidate
some particular point. Mr. Jehl says: "The experiments
on armature-winding were also very interesting.
Edison had a number of small wooden cores
made, at both ends of which we inserted little brass
nails, and we wound the wooden cores with twine as if
it were wire on an armature. In this way we studied
armature-winding, and had matches where each of us
had a core, while bets were made as to who would be
the first to finish properly and correctly a certain
kind of winding. Care had to be taken that the
wound core corresponded to the direction of the current,
supposing it were placed in a field and revolved.
After Edison had decided this question, Upton made
drawings and tables from which the real armatures
were wound and connected to the commutator. To
a student of to-day all this seems simple, but in those
days the art of constructing dynamos was about as
dark as air navigation is at present.... Edison also
improved the armature by dividing it and the commutator
into a far greater number of sections than
up to that time had been the practice. He was also
the first to use mica in insulating the commutator
sections from each other."

In the mean time, during the progress of the
investigations on the dynamo, word had gone out to
the world that Edison expected to invent a generator
of greater efficiency than any that existed at the
time. Again he was assailed and ridiculed by the
technical press, for had not the foremost electricians
and physicists of Europe and America worked for
years on the production of dynamos and arc lamps
as they then existed? Even though this young man
at Menlo Park had done some wonderful things for
telegraphy and telephony; even if he had recorded
and reproduced human speech, he had his limitations,
and could not upset the settled dictum of science
that the internal resistance must equal the external
resistance.

Such was the trend of public opinion at the time,
but "after Mr. Kruesi had finished the first practical
dynamo, and after Mr. Upton had tested it thoroughly
and verified his figures and results several times--
for he also was surprised--Edison was able to tell
the world that he had made a generator giving an
efficiency of 90 per cent." Ninety per cent. as against
40 per cent. was a mighty hit, and the world would
not believe it. Criticism and argument were again at
their height, while Upton, as Edison's duellist, was
kept busy replying to private and public challenges
of the fact.... "The tremendous progress of the world
in the last quarter of a century, owing to the revolution
caused by the all-conquering march of `Heavy
Current Engineering,' is the outcome of Edison's work
at Menlo Park that raised the efficiency of the dynamo
from 40 per cent. to 90 per cent."

Mr. Upton sums it all up very precisely in his remarks
upon this period: "What has now been made
clear by accurate nomenclature was then very foggy
in the text-books. Mr. Edison had completely
grasped the effect of subdivision of circuits, and the
influence of wires leading to such subdivisions, when
it was most difficult to express what he knew in
technical language. I remember distinctly when Mr.
Edison gave me the problem of placing a motor in
circuit in multiple arc with a fixed resistance; and I
had to work out the problem entirely, as I could find
no prior solution. There was nothing I could find
bearing upon the counter electromotive force of the
armature, and the effect of the resistance of the
armature on the work given out by the armature.
It was a wonderful experience to have problems given
me out of the intuitions of a great mind, based on
enormous experience in practical work, and applying
to new lines of progress. One of the main impressions
left upon me after knowing Mr. Edison for many
years is the marvellous accuracy of his guesses. He
will see the general nature of a result long before it
can be reached by mathematical calculation. His
greatness was always to be clearly seen when difficulties
arose. They always made him cheerful, and
started him thinking; and very soon would come a
line of suggestions which would not end until the
difficulty was met and overcome, or found
insurmountable. I have often felt that Mr. Edison got
himself purposely into trouble by premature publications
and otherwise, so that he would have a full
incentive to get himself out of the trouble."

This chapter may well end with a statement from
Mr. Jehl, shrewd and observant, as a participator in
all the early work of the development of the Edison
lighting system: "Those who were gathered around
him in the old Menlo Park laboratory enjoyed his
confidence, and he theirs. Nor was this confidence
ever abused. He was respected with a respect which
only great men can obtain, and he never showed by
any word or act that he was their employer in a sense
that would hurt the feelings, as is often the case in
the ordinary course of business life. He conversed,
argued, and disputed with us all as if he were a colleague
on the same footing. It was his winning ways
and manners that attached us all so loyally to his
side, and made us ever ready with a boundless devotion
to execute any request or desire." Thus does
a great magnet, run through a heap of sand and
filings, exert its lines of force and attract irresistibly
to itself the iron and steel particles that are its
affinity, and having sifted them out, leaving the useless
dust behind, hold them to itself with responsive
tenacity.



CHAPTER XIII

A WORLD-HUNT FOR FILAMENT MATERIAL

IN writing about the old experimenting days at
Menlo Park, Mr. F. R. Upton says: "Edison's day
is twenty-four hours long, for he has always worked
whenever there was anything to do, whether day or
night, and carried a force of night workers, so that
his experiments could go on continually. If he wanted
material, he always made it a principle to have it at
once, and never hesitated to use special messengers
to get it. I remember in the early days of the electric
light he wanted a mercury pump for exhausting the
lamps. He sent me to Princeton to get it. I got
back to Metuchen late in the day, and had to carry
the pump over to the laboratory on my back that
evening, set it up, and work all night and the next
day getting results."

This characteristic principle of obtaining desired
material in the quickest and most positive way manifested
itself in the search that Edison instituted for
the best kind of bamboo for lamp filaments, immediately
after the discovery related in a preceding
chapter. It is doubtful whether, in the annals of
scientific research and experiment, there is anything
quite analogous to the story of this search and the
various expeditions that went out from the Edison
laboratory in 1880 and subsequent years, to scour
the earth for a material so apparently simple as a
homogeneous strip of bamboo, or other similar fibre.
Prolonged and exhaustive experiment, microscopic
examination, and an intimate knowledge of the
nature of wood and plant fibres, however, had led
Edison to the conclusion that bamboo or similar
fibrous filaments were more suitable than anything
else then known for commercial incandescent lamps,
and he wanted the most perfect for that purpose.
Hence, the quickest way was to search the tropics
until the proper material was found.

The first emissary chosen for this purpose was the
late William H. Moore, of Rahway, New Jersey, who
left New York in the summer of 1880, bound for
China and Japan, these being the countries pre-
eminently noted for the production of abundant
species of bamboo. On arrival in the East he quickly
left the cities behind and proceeded into the interior,
extending his search far into the more remote country
districts, collecting specimens on his way, and
devoting much time to the study of the bamboo, and
in roughly testing the relative value of its fibre in
canes of one, two, three, four, and five year growths.
Great bales of samples were sent to Edison, and after
careful tests a certain variety and growth of Japanese
bamboo was determined to be the most satisfactory
material for filaments that had been found. Mr.
Moore, who was continuing his searches in that
country, was instructed to arrange for the cultivation
and shipment of regular supplies of this particular
species. Arrangements to this end were accordingly
made with a Japanese farmer, who began to make
immediate shipments, and who subsequently displayed
so much ingenuity in fertilizing and cross-
fertilizing that the homogeneity of the product was
constantly improved. The use of this bamboo for
Edison lamp filaments was continued for many years.

Although Mr. Moore did not meet with the exciting
adventures of some subsequent explorers, he encountered
numerous difficulties and novel experiences
in his many months of travel through the hinterland
of Japan and China. The attitude toward foreigners
thirty years ago was not as friendly as it has
since become, but Edison, as usual, had made a
happy choice of messengers, as Mr. Moore's good
nature and diplomacy attested. These qualities,
together with his persistence and perseverance and
faculty of intelligent discrimination in the matter
of fibres, helped to make his mission successful, and
gave to him the honor of being the one who found
the bamboo which was adopted for use as filaments
in commercial Edison lamps.

Although Edison had satisfied himself that bamboo
furnished the most desirable material thus far
discovered for incandescent-lamp filaments, he felt
that in some part of the world there might be found
a natural product of the same general character that
would furnish a still more perfect and homogeneous
material. In his study of this subject, and during the
prosecution of vigorous and searching inquiries in
various directions, he learned that Mr. John C.
Brauner, then residing in Brooklyn, New York, had
an expert knowledge of indigenous plants of the
particular kind desired. During the course of a geological
survey which he had made for the Brazilian
Government, Mr. Brauner had examined closely the
various species of palms which grow plentifully in
that country, and of them there was one whose fibres
he thought would be just what Edison wanted.

Accordingly, Mr. Brauner was sent for and dispatched
to Brazil in December, 1880, to search for
and send samples of this and such other palms, fibres,
grasses, and canes as, in his judgment, would be suitable
for the experiments then being carried on at
Menlo Park. Landing at Para, he crossed over into
the Amazonian province, and thence proceeded
through the heart of the country, making his way by
canoe on the rivers and their tributaries, and by foot
into the forests and marshes of a vast and almost
untrodden wilderness. In this manner Mr. Brauner
traversed about two thousand miles of the comparatively
unknown interior of Southern Brazil, and procured
a large variety of fibrous specimens, which he
shipped to Edison a few months later. When these
fibres arrived in the United States they were carefully
tested and a few of them found suitable but not
superior to the Japanese bamboo, which was then
being exclusively used in the manufacture of commercial
Edison lamps.

Later on Edison sent out an expedition to explore
the wilds of Cuba and Jamaica. A two months'
investigation of the latter island revealed a variety
of bamboo growths, of which a great number of specimens
were obtained and shipped to Menlo Park; but
on careful test they were found inferior to the Jap-
anese bamboo, and hence rejected. The exploration
of the glades and swamps of Florida by three men
extended over a period of five months in a minute
search for fibrous woods of the palmetto species. A
great variety was found, and over five hundred boxes
of specimens were shipped to the laboratory from
time to time, but none of them tested out with entirely
satisfactory results.

The use of Japanese bamboo for carbon filaments
was therefore continued in the manufacture of lamps,
although an incessant search was maintained for a
still more perfect material. The spirit of progress,
so pervasive in Edison's character, led him, however,
to renew his investigations further afield by sending
out two other men to examine the bamboo and
similar growths of those parts of South America not
covered by Mr. Brauner. These two men were Frank
McGowan and C. F. Hanington, both of whom had
been for nearly seven years in the employ of the
Edison Electric Light Company in New York. The
former was a stocky, rugged Irishman, possessing the
native shrewdness and buoyancy of his race, coupled
with undaunted courage and determination; and the
latter was a veteran of the Civil War, with some
knowledge of forest and field, acquired as a sportsman.
They left New York in September, 1887, arriving
in due time at Para, proceeding thence twenty-
three hundred miles up the Amazon River to Iquitos.
Nothing of an eventful nature occurred during this
trip, but on arrival at Iquitos the two men separated;
Mr. McGowan to explore on foot and by canoe in
Peru, Ecuador, and Colombia, while Mr. Hanington
returned by the Amazon River to Para. Thence
Hanington went by steamer to Montevideo, and by
similar conveyance up the River de la Plata and
through Uruguay, Argentine, and Paraguay to the
southernmost part of Brazil, collecting a large number
of specimens of palms and grasses.

The adventures of Mr. McGowan, after leaving
Iquitos, would fill a book if related in detail. The
object of the present narrative and the space at the
authors' disposal, however, do not permit of more
than a brief mention of his experiences. His first
objective point was Quito, about five hundred miles
away, which he proposed to reach on foot and by
means of canoeing on the Napo River through a wild
and comparatively unknown country teeming with
tribes of hostile natives. The dangers of the expedition
were pictured to him in glowing colors, but spurning
prophecies of dire disaster, he engaged some native
Indians and a canoe and started on his explorations,
reaching Quito in eighty-seven days, after a
thorough search of the country on both sides of the
Napo River. From Quito he went to Guayaquil,
from there by steamer to Buenaventura, and thence
by rail, twelve miles, to Cordova. From this point
he set out on foot to explore the Cauca Valley and
the Cordilleras.

Mr. McGowan found in these regions a great variety
of bamboo, small and large, some species growing
seventy-five to one hundred feet in height, and from
six to nine inches in diameter. He collected a large
number of specimens, which were subsequently sent
to Orange for Edison's examination. After about
fifteen months of exploration attended by much hardship
and privation, deserted sometimes by treacherous
guides, twice laid low by fevers, occasionally in peril
from Indian attacks, wild animals and poisonous
serpents, tormented by insect pests, endangered by
floods, one hundred and nineteen days without meat,
ninety-eight days without taking off his clothes, Mr.
McGowan returned to America, broken in health but
having faithfully fulfilled the commission intrusted
to him. The Evening Sun, New York, obtained an
interview with him at that time, and in its issue of
May 2, 1889, gave more than a page to a brief story
of his interesting adventures, and then commented
editorially upon them, as follows:


"A ROMANCE OF SCIENCE"


"The narrative given elsewhere in the Evening Sun
of the wanderings of Edison's missionary of science,
Mr. Frank McGowan, furnishes a new proof that the
romances of real life surpass any that the imagination
can frame.

"In pursuit of a substance that should meet the
requirements of the Edison incandescent lamp, Mr. McGowan
penetrated the wilderness of the Amazon, and for a year
defied its fevers, beasts, reptiles, and deadly insects in
his quest of a material so precious that jealous Nature
has hidden it in her most secret fastnesses.

"No hero of mythology or fable ever dared such
dragons to rescue some captive goddess as did this
dauntless champion of civilization. Theseus, or Siegfried,
or any knight of the fairy books might envy the
victories of Edison's irresistible lieutenant.

"As a sample story of adventure, Mr. McGowan's narrative
is a marvel fit to be classed with the historic jour-
neyings of the greatest travellers. But it gains immensely
in interest when we consider that it succeeded in its
scientific purpose. The mysterious bamboo was discovered,
and large quantities of it were procured and
brought to the Wizard's laboratory, there to suffer another
wondrous change and then to light up our pleasure-
haunts and our homes with a gentle radiance."


A further, though rather sad, interest attaches to
the McGowan story, for only a short time had
elapsed after his return to America when he disappeared
suddenly and mysteriously, and in spite of
long-continued and strenuous efforts to obtain some
light on the subject, no clew or trace of him was ever
found. He was a favorite among the Edison "oldtimers,"
and his memory is still cherished, for when
some of the "boys" happen to get together, as they
occasionally do, some one is almost sure to "wonder
what became of poor `Mac.' " He was last seen at
Mouquin's famous old French restaurant on Fulton
Street, New York, where he lunched with one of the
authors of this book and the late Luther Stieringer.
He sat with them for two or three hours discussing
his wonderful trip, and telling some fascinating stories
of adventure. Then the party separated at the Ann
Street door of the restaurant, after making plans to
secure the narrative in more detailed form for
subsequent use--and McGowan has not been seen from
that hour to this. The trail of the explorer was more
instantly lost in New York than in the vast recesses
of the Amazon swamps.

The next and last explorer whom Edison sent out
in search of natural fibres was Mr. James Ricalton,
of Maplewood, New Jersey, a school-principal, a well-
known traveller, and an ardent student of natural
science. Mr. Ricalton's own story of his memorable
expedition is so interesting as to be worthy of repetition
here:

"A village schoolmaster is not unaccustomed to
door-rappings; for the steps of belligerent mothers
are often thitherward bent seeking redress for conjured
wrongs to their darling boobies.

"It was a bewildering moment, therefore, to the
Maplewood teacher when, in answering a rap at the
door one afternoon, he found, instead of an irate
mother, a messenger from the laboratory of the
world's greatest inventor bearing a letter requesting
an audience a few hours later.

"Being the teacher to whom reference is made, I
am now quite willing to confess that for the remainder
of that afternoon, less than a problem in Euclid would
have been sufficient to disqualify me for the remaining
scholastic duties of the hour. I felt it, of course,
to be no small honor for a humble teacher to be called
to the sanctum of Thomas A. Edison. The letter,
however, gave no intimation of the nature of the
object for which I had been invited to appear before
Mr. Edison....

"When I was presented to Mr. Edison his way of
setting forth the mission he had designated for me
was characteristic of how a great mind conceives vast
undertakings and commands great things in few
words. At this time Mr. Edison had discovered that
the fibre of a certain bamboo afforded a very desirable
carbon for the electric lamp, and the variety of bam-
boo used was a product of Japan. It was his belief
that in other parts of the world other and superior
varieties might be found, and to that end he had
dispatched explorers to bamboo regions in the valleys
of the great South American rivers, where specimens
were found of extraordinary quality; but the locality
in which these specimens were found was lost in the
limitless reaches of those great river-bottoms. The
great necessity for more durable carbons became a
desideratum so urgent that the tireless inventor decided
to commission another explorer to search the
tropical jungles of the Orient.

"This brings me then to the first meeting of Edison,
when he set forth substantially as follows, as I remember
it twenty years ago, the purpose for which
he had called me from my scholastic duties. With
a quizzical gleam in his eye, he said: `I want a man
to ransack all the tropical jungles of the East to find
a better fibre for my lamp; I expect it to be found
in the palm or bamboo family. How would you like
that job?' Suiting my reply to his love of brevity
and dispatch, I said, `That would suit me.' `Can
you go to-morrow?' was his next question. `Well,
Mr. Edison, I must first of all get a leave of absence
from my Board of Education, and assist the board to
secure a substitute for the time of my absence. How
long will it take, Mr. Edison?' `How can I tell?
Maybe six months, and maybe five years; no matter
how long, find it.' He continued: `I sent a man to
South America to find what I want; he found it;
but lost the place where he found it, so he might
as well never have found it at all.' Hereat I was
enjoined to proceed forthwith to court the Board
of Education for a leave of absence, which I did
successfully, the board considering that a call so
important and honorary was entitled to their
unqualified favor, which they generously granted.

"I reported to Mr. Edison on the following day,
when he instructed me to come to the laboratory at
once to learn all the details of drawing and carbonizing
fibres, which it would be necessary to do in the
Oriental jungles. This I did, and, in the mean time,
a set of suitable tools for this purpose had been ordered
to be made in the laboratory. As soon as I
learned my new trade, which I accomplished in a few
days, Mr. Edison directed me to the library of the
laboratory to occupy a few days in studying the
geography of the Orient and, particularly, in drawing
maps of the tributaries of the Ganges, the Irrawaddy,
and the Brahmaputra rivers, and other regions which
I expected to explore.

"It was while thus engaged that Mr. Edison came
to me one day and said: `If you will go up to the
house' (his palatial home not far away) `and look behind
the sofa in the library you will find a joint of
bamboo, a specimen of that found in South America;
bring it down and make a study of it; if you find
something equal to that I will be satisfied.' At the
home I was guided to the library by an Irish servant-
woman, to whom I communicated my knowledge of
the definite locality of the sample joint. She plunged
her arm, bare and herculean, behind the aforementioned
sofa, and holding aloft a section of wood,
called out in a mood of discovery: `Is that it?'
Replying in the affirmative, she added, under an
impulse of innocent divination that whatever her
wizard master laid hands upon could result in nothing
short of an invention, `Sure, sor, and what's he
going to invint out o' that?'

"My kit of tools made, my maps drawn, my
Oriental geography reviewed, I come to the point
when matters of immediate departure are discussed;
and when I took occasion to mention to my chief
that, on the subject of life insurance, underwriters
refuse to take any risks on an enterprise so hazardous,
Mr. Edison said that, if I did not place too high
a valuation on my person, he would take the risk
himself. I replied that I was born and bred in New
York State, but now that I had become a Jersey man
I did not value myself at above fifteen hundred dollars.
Edison laughed and said that he would assume
the risk, and another point was settled. The next
matter was the financing of the trip, about which
Mr. Edison asked in a tentative way about the rates
to the East. I told him the expense of such a trip
could not be determined beforehand in detail, but that
I had established somewhat of a reputation for
economic travel, and that I did not believe any
traveller could surpass me in that respect. He desired
no further assurance in that direction, and thereupon
ordered a letter of credit made out with authorization
to order a second when the first was exhausted.
Herein then are set forth in briefest space the
preliminaries of a circuit of the globe in quest of fibre.

"It so happened that the day on which I set out
fell on Washington's Birthday, and I suggested to my
boys and girls at school that they make a line across
the station platform near the school at Maplewood,
and from this line I would start eastward around
the world, and if good-fortune should bring me back
I would meet them from the westward at the same
line. As I had often made them `toe the scratch,'
for once they were only too well pleased to have me
toe the line for them.

"This was done, and I sailed via England and the
Suez Canal to Ceylon, that fair isle to which Sindbad
the Sailor made his sixth voyage, picturesquely
referred to in history as the `brightest gem in the
British Colonial Crown.' I knew Ceylon to be eminently
tropical; I knew it to be rich in many varieties
of the bamboo family, which has been called the king
of the grasses; and in this family had I most hope of
finding the desired fibre. Weeks were spent in this
paradisiacal isle. Every part was visited. Native
wood craftsmen were offered a premium on every
new species brought in, and in this way nearly a hundred
species were tested, a greater number than was
found in any other country. One of the best specimens
tested during the entire trip around the world
was found first in Ceylon, although later in Burmah,
it being indigenous to the latter country. It is a
gigantic tree-grass or reed growing in clumps of from
one to two hundred, often twelve inches in diameter,
and one hundred and fifty feet high, and known as
the giant bamboo (Bambusa gigantia). This giant
grass stood the highest test as a carbon, and on account
of its extraordinary size and qualities I extend
it this special mention. With others who have given
much attention to this remarkable reed, I believe that
in its manifold uses the bamboo is the world's greatest
dendral benefactor.

"From Ceylon I proceeded to India, touching the
great peninsula first at Cape Comorin, and continuing
northward by way of Pondicherry, Madura, and
Madras; and thence to the tableland of Bangalore
and the Western Ghauts, testing many kinds of wood
at every point, but particularly the palm and bamboo
families. From the range of the Western Ghauts
I went to Bombay and then north by the way of
Delhi to Simla, the summer capital of the Himalayas;
thence again northward to the headwaters of the
Sutlej River, testing everywhere on my way everything
likely to afford the desired carbon.

"On returning from the mountains I followed the
valleys of the Jumna and the Ganges to Calcutta,
whence I again ascended the Sub-Himalayas to
Darjeeling, where the numerous river-bottoms were
sprinkled plentifully with many varieties of bamboo,
from the larger sizes to dwarfed species covering the
mountain slopes, and not longer than the grass of
meadows. Again descending to the plains I passed
eastward to the Brahmaputra River, which I ascended
to the foot-hills in Assam; but finding nothing of
superior quality in all this northern region I returned
to Calcutta and sailed thence to Rangoon, in Burmah;
and there, finding no samples giving more excellent
tests in the lower reaches of the Irrawaddy, I ascended
that river to Mandalay, where, through Burmese
bamboo wiseacres, I gathered in from round about
and tested all that the unusually rich Burmese flora
could furnish. In Burmah the giant bamboo, as already
mentioned, is found indigenous; but beside it
no superior varieties were found. Samples tested
at several points on the Malay Peninsula showed no
new species, except at a point north of Singapore,
where I found a species large and heavy which gave
a test nearly equal to that of the giant bamboo in
Ceylon.

"After completing the Malay Peninsula I had
planned to visit Java and Borneo; but having found
in the Malay Peninsula and in Ceylon a bamboo
fibre which averaged a test from one to two hundred
per cent. better than that in use at the lamp factory,
I decided it was unnecessary to visit these countries
or New Guinea, as my `Eureka' had already been
established, and that I would therefore set forth over
the return hemisphere, searching China and Japan
on the way. The rivers in Southern China brought
down to Canton bamboos of many species, where this
wondrously utilitarian reed enters very largely into
the industrial life of that people, and not merely into
the industrial life, but even into the culinary arts,
for bamboo sprouts are a universal vegetable in
China; but among all the bamboos of China I
found none of superexcellence in carbonizing qualities.
Japan came next in the succession of countries to be
explored, but there the work was much simplified,
from the fact that the Tokio Museum contains a
complete classified collection of all the different species
in the empire, and there samples could be obtained
and tested.

"Now the last of the important bamboo-producing
countries in the globe circuit had been done, and
the `home-lap' was in order; the broad Pacific was
spanned in fourteen days; my natal continent in six;
and on the 22d of February, on the same day, at the
same hour, at the same minute, one year to a second,
`little Maude,' a sweet maid of the school, led me
across the line which completed the circuit of the
globe, and where I was greeted by the cheers of my
boys and girls. I at once reported to Mr. Edison,
whose manner of greeting my return was as characteristic
of the man as his summary and matter-of-
fact manner of my dispatch. His little catechism
of curious inquiry was embraced in four small and
intensely Anglo-Saxon words--with his usual pleasant
smile he extended his hand and said: `Did you
get it?' This was surely a summing of a year's exploration
not less laconic than Caesar's review of his
Gallic campaign. When I replied that I had, but
that he must be the final judge of what I had found,
he said that during my absence he had succeeded in
making an artificial carbon which was meeting the
requirements satisfactorily; so well, indeed, that I
believe no practical use was ever made of the bamboo
fibres thereafter.

"I have herein given a very brief resume of my
search for fibre through the Orient; and during my
connection with that mission I was at all times not
less astonished at Mr. Edison's quick perception of
conditions and his instant decision and his bigness
of conceptions, than I had always been with his
prodigious industry and his inventive genius.

"Thinking persons know that blatant men never
accomplish much, and Edison's marvellous brevity
of speech along with his miraculous achievements
should do much to put bores and garrulity out of
fashion."

Although Edison had instituted such a costly and
exhaustive search throughout the world for the most
perfect of natural fibres, he did not necessarily feel
committed for all time to the exclusive use of that
material for his lamp filaments. While these
explorations were in progress, as indeed long before,
he had given much thought to the production of some
artificial compound that would embrace not only the
required homogeneity, but also many other qualifications
necessary for the manufacture of an improved
type of lamp which had become desirable by reason
of the rapid adoption of his lighting system.

At the very time Mr. McGowan was making his
explorations deep in South America, and Mr. Ricalton
his swift trip around the world, Edison, after
much investigation and experiment, had produced
a compound which promised better results than bamboo
fibres. After some changes dictated by experience,
this artificial filament was adopted in the
manufacture of lamps. No radical change was
immediately made, however, but the product of the
lamp factory was gradually changed over, during the
course of a few years, from the use of bamboo to the
"squirted" filament, as the new material was called.
An artificial compound of one kind or another has
indeed been universally adopted for the purpose by
all manufacturers; hence the incandescing conductors
in all carbon-filament lamps of the present day are
made in that way. The fact remains, however, that
for nearly nine years all Edison lamps (many millions
in the aggregate) were made with bamboo filaments,
and many of them for several years after that, until
bamboo was finally abandoned in the early nineties,
except for use in a few special types which were so
made until about the end of 1908. The last few years
have witnessed a remarkable advance in the manufacture
of incandescent lamps in the substitution of
metallic filaments for those of carbon. It will be
remembered that many of the earlier experiments were
based on the use of strips of platinum; while other
rare metals were the subject of casual trial. No real
success was attained in that direction, and for many
years the carbon-filament lamp reigned supreme.
During the last four or five years lamps with filaments
made from tantalum and tungsten have been
produced and placed on the market with great success,
and are now largely used. Their price is still
very high, however, as compared with that of the
carbon lamp, which has been vastly improved in
methods of construction, and whose average price
of fifteen cents is only one-tenth of what it was when
Edison first brought it out.

With the close of Mr. McGowan's and Mr. Ricalton's
expeditions, there ended the historic world-hunt
for natural fibres. From start to finish the investigations
and searches made by Edison himself, and carried
on by others under his direction, are remarkable
not only from the fact that they entailed a total
expenditure of about $100,000, (disbursed under his
supervision by Mr. Upton), but also because of
their unique inception and thoroughness they illustrate
one of the strongest traits of his character--an
invincible determination to leave no stone unturned
to acquire that which he believes to be in existence,
and which, when found, will answer the purpose that
he has in mind.



CHAPTER XIV

INVENTING A COMPLETE SYSTEM OF LIGHTING

IN Berlin, on December 11, 1908, with notable eclat,
the seventieth birthday was celebrated of Emil
Rathenau, the founder of the great Allgemein
Elektricitaets Gesellschaft. This distinguished German,
creator of a splendid industry, then received the
congratulations of his fellow-countrymen, headed by
Emperor William, who spoke enthusiastically of his
services to electro-technics and to Germany. In
his interesting acknowledgment, Mr. Rathenau told
how he went to Paris in 1881, and at the electrical
exhibition there saw the display of Edison's inventions
in electric lighting "which have met with as
little proper appreciation as his countless innovations
in connection with telegraphy, telephony, and the
entire electrical industry." He saw the Edison dynamo,
and he saw the incandescent lamp, "of which millions
have been manufactured since that day without the
great master being paid the tribute to his invention."
But what impressed the observant, thoroughgoing
German was the breadth with which the whole lighting
art had been elaborated and perfected, even at
that early day. "The Edison system of lighting was
as beautifully conceived down to the very details,
and as thoroughly worked out as if it had been tested
for decades in various towns. Neither sockets,
switches, fuses, lamp-holders, nor any of the other
accessories necessary to complete the installation
were wanting; and the generating of the current,
the regulation, the wiring with distributing boxes,
house connections, meters, etc., all showed signs of
astonishing skill and incomparable genius."

Such praise on such an occasion from the man who
introduced incandescent electric lighting into Germany
is significant as to the continued appreciation abroad
of Mr. Edison's work. If there is one thing modern
Germany is proud and jealous of, it is her leadership
in electrical engineering and investigation. But with
characteristic insight, Mr. Rathenau here placed his
finger on the great merit that has often been forgotten.
Edison was not simply the inventor of a new lamp
and a new dynamo. They were invaluable elements,
but far from all that was necessary. His was the
mighty achievement of conceiving and executing in
all its details an art and an industry absolutely new
to the world. Within two years this man completed
and made that art available in its essential, fundamental
facts, which remain unchanged after thirty
years of rapid improvement and widening application.

Such a stupendous feat, whose equal is far to seek
anywhere in the history of invention, is worth studying,
especially as the task will take us over much new
ground and over very little of the territory already
covered. Notwithstanding the enormous amount of
thought and labor expended on the incandescent
lamp problem from the autumn of 1878 to the winter
of 1879, it must not be supposed for one moment that
Edison's whole endeavor and entire inventive skill
had been given to the lamp alone, or the dynamo
alone. We have sat through the long watches of the
night while Edison brooded on the real solution of
the swarming problems. We have gazed anxiously at
the steady fingers of the deft and cautious Batchelor,
as one fragile filament after another refused to stay
intact until it could be sealed into its crystal prison
and there glow with light that never was before on
land or sea. We have calculated armatures and field
coils for the new dynamo with Upton, and held the
stakes for Jehl and his fellows at their winding bees.
We have seen the mineral and vegetable kingdoms
rifled and ransacked for substances that would yield
the best "filament." We have had the vague consciousness
of assisting at a great development whose
evidences to-day on every hand attest its magnitude.
We have felt the fierce play of volcanic effort, lifting
new continents of opportunity from the infertile sea,
without any devastation of pre-existing fields of human
toil and harvest. But it still remains to elucidate
the actual thing done; to reduce it to concrete
data, and in reducing, to unfold its colossal dimensions.

The lighting system that Edison contemplated in
this entirely new departure from antecedent methods
included the generation of electrical energy, or current,
on a very large scale; its distribution throughout
extended areas, and its division and subdivision
into small units converted into light at innumerable
points in every direction from the source of
supply, each unit to be independent of every oth-
er and susceptible to immediate control by the
user.

This was truly an altogether prodigious undertaking.
We need not wonder that Professor Tyndall,
in words implying grave doubt as to the possibility
of any solution of the various problems, said publicly
that he would much rather have the matter in Edison's
hands than in his own. There were no precedents,
nothing upon which to build or improve. The
problems could only be answered by the creation of
new devices and methods expressly worked out for
their solution. An electric lamp answering certain
specific requirements would, indeed, be the key to
the situation, but its commercial adaptation required
a multifarious variety of apparatus and devices. The
word "system" is much abused in invention, and
during the early days of electric lighting its use
applied to a mere freakish lamp or dynamo was often
ludicrous. But, after all, nothing short of a complete
system could give real value to the lamp as an
invention; nothing short of a system could body
forth the new art to the public. Let us therefore set
down briefly a few of the leading items needed for
perfect illumination by electricity, all of which were
part of the Edison programme:

First--To conceive a broad and fundamentally correct
method of distributing the current, satisfactory
in a scientific sense and practical commercially in its
efficiency and economy. This meant, ready made, a
comprehensive plan analogous to illumination by gas,
with a network of conductors all connected together,
so that in any given city area the lights could be fed
with electricity from several directions, thus eliminating
any interruption due to the disturbance on any
particular section.

Second--To devise an electric lamp that would give
about the same amount of light as a gas jet, which
custom had proven to be a suitable and useful unit.
This lamp must possess the quality of requiring only
a small investment in the copper conductors reaching
it. Each lamp must be independent of every
other lamp. Each and all the lights must be produced
and operated with sufficient economy to compete
on a commercial basis with gas. The lamp must
be durable, capable of being easily and safely handled
by the public, and one that would remain capable of
burning at full incandescence and candle-power a great
length of time.

Third--To devise means whereby the amount of
electrical energy furnished to each and every customer
could be determined, as in the case of gas, and
so that this could be done cheaply and reliably by a
meter at the customer's premises.

Fourth--To elaborate a system or network of conductors
capable of being placed underground or overhead,
which would allow of being tapped at any intervals,
so that service wires could be run from the
main conductors in the street into each building.
Where these mains went below the surface of the
thoroughfare, as in large cities, there must be
protective conduit or pipe for the copper conductors,
and these pipes must allow of being tapped wherever
necessary. With these conductors and pipes must
also be furnished manholes, junction-boxes, con-
nections, and a host of varied paraphernalia insuring
perfect general distribution.

Fifth--To devise means for maintaining at all
points in an extended area of distribution a practically
even pressure of current, so that all the lamps,
wherever located, near or far away from the central
station, should give an equal light at all times,
independent of the number that might be turned on; and
safeguarding the lamps against rupture by sudden
and violent fluctuations of current. There must also
be means for thus regulating at the point where the
current was generated the quality or pressure of the
current throughout the whole lighting area, with devices
for indicating what such pressure might actually
be at various points in the area.

Sixth--To design efficient dynamos, such not being
in existence at the time, that would convert economically
the steam-power of high-speed engines into
electrical energy, together with means for connecting
and disconnecting them with the exterior consumption
circuits; means for regulating, equalizing their
loads, and adjusting the number of dynamos to be
used according to the fluctuating demands on the
central station. Also the arrangement of complete
stations with steam and electric apparatus and auxiliary
devices for insuring their efficient and continuous
operation.

Seventh--To invent devices that would prevent
the current from becoming excessive upon any conductors,
causing fire or other injury; also switches
for turning the current on and off; lamp-holders,
fixtures, and the like; also means and methods for
establishing the interior circuits that were to carry
current to chandeliers and fixtures in buildings.

Here was the outline of the programme laid down
in the autumn of 1878, and pursued through all its
difficulties to definite accomplishment in about eighteen
months, some of the steps being made immediately,
others being taken as the art evolved. It is
not to be imagined for one moment that Edison performed
all the experiments with his own hands. The
method of working at Menlo Park has already been
described in these pages by those who participated.
It would not only have been physically impossible for
one man to have done all this work himself, in view
of the time and labor required, and the endless detail;
but most of the apparatus and devices invented
or suggested by him as the art took shape required
the handiwork of skilled mechanics and artisans of a
high order of ability. Toward the end of 1879 the
laboratory force thus numbered at least one hundred
earnest men. In this respect of collaboration, Edison
has always adopted a policy that must in part
be taken to explain his many successes. Some inventors
of the greatest ability, dealing with ideas and
conceptions of importance, have found it impossible
to organize or even to tolerate a staff of co-workers,
preferring solitary and secret toil, incapable of team
work, or jealous of any intrusion that could possibly
bar them from a full and complete claim to the result
when obtained. Edison always stood shoulder to
shoulder with his associates, but no one ever questioned
the leadership, nor was it ever in doubt where
the inspiration originated. The real truth is that
Edison has always been so ceaselessly fertile of ideas
himself, he has had more than his whole staff could
ever do to try them all out; he has sought co-operation,
but no exterior suggestion. As a matter of fact
a great many of the "Edison men" have made notable
inventions of their own, with which their names are
imperishably associated; but while they were with
Edison it was with his work that they were and
must be busied.

It was during this period of "inventing a system"
that so much systematic and continuous work with
good results was done by Edison in the design and
perfection of dynamos. The value of his contributions
to the art of lighting comprised in this work
has never been fully understood or appreciated, having
been so greatly overshadowed by his invention of
the incandescent lamp, and of a complete system of
distribution. It is a fact, however, that the principal
improvements he made in dynamo-electric generators
were of a radical nature and remain in the art.
Thirty years bring about great changes, especially
in a field so notably progressive as that of the
generation of electricity; but different as are the
dynamos of to-day from those of the earlier period,
they embody essential principles and elements that
Edison then marked out and elaborated as the conditions
of success. There was indeed prompt appreciation
in some well-informed quarters of what Edison
was doing, evidenced by the sensation caused in the
summer of 1881, when he designed, built, and shipped
to Paris for the first Electrical Exposition ever held,
the largest dynamo that had been built up to that
time. It was capable of lighting twelve hundred
incandescent lamps, and weighed with its engine
twenty-seven tons, the armature alone weighing six
tons. It was then, and for a long time after, the
eighth wonder of the scientific world, and its arrival
and installation in Paris were eagerly watched by
the most famous physicists and electricians of Europe.

Edison's amusing description of his experience
in shipping the dynamo to Paris when built may
appropriately be given here: "I built a very large
dynamo with the engine directly connected, which I
intended for the Paris Exposition of 1881. It was
one or two sizes larger than those I had previously
built. I had only a very short period in which to get
it ready and put it on a steamer to reach the Exposition
in time. After the machine was completed we
found the voltage was too low. I had to devise a way
of raising the voltage without changing the machine,
which I did by adding extra magnets. After this
was done, we tested the machine, and the crank-shaft
of the engine broke and flew clear across the shop.
By working night and day a new crank-shaft was put
in, and we only had three days left from that time to
get it on board the steamer; and had also to run a
test. So we made arrangements with the Tammany
leader, and through him with the police, to clear the
street--one of the New York crosstown streets--and
line it with policemen, as we proposed to make a
quick passage, and didn't know how much time it
would take. About four hours before the steamer
had to get it, the machine was shut down after the
test, and a schedule was made out in advance of what
each man had to do. Sixty men were put on top of
the dynamo to get it ready, and each man had written
orders as to what he was to perform. We got it all
taken apart and put on trucks and started off. They
drove the horses with a fire-bell in front of them to
the French pier, the policemen lining the streets.
Fifty men were ready to help the stevedores get it on
the steamer--and we were one hour ahead of time."

This Exposition brings us, indeed, to a dramatic
and rather pathetic parting of the ways. The hour
had come for the old laboratory force that had done
such brilliant and memorable work to disband, never
again to assemble under like conditions for like effort,
although its members all remained active in the field,
and many have ever since been associated prominently
with some department of electrical enterprise. The
fact was they had done their work so well they must
now disperse to show the world what it was, and assist
in its industrial exploitation. In reality, they were
too few for the demands that reached Edison from
all parts of the world for the introduction of his
system; and in the emergency the men nearest to
him and most trusted were those upon whom he could
best depend for such missionary work as was now
required. The disciples full of fire and enthusiasm,
as well as of knowledge and experience, were soon
scattered to the four winds, and the rapidity with
which the Edison system was everywhere successfully
introduced is testimony to the good judgment
with which their leader had originally selected them
as his colleagues. No one can say exactly just how this
process of disintegration began, but Mr. E. H. John-
son had already been sent to England in the Edison
interests, and now the question arose as to what
should be done with the French demands and the
Paris Electrical Exposition, whose importance as a
point of new departure in electrical industry was
speedily recognized on both sides of the Atlantic. It
is very interesting to note that as the earlier staff
broke up, Edison became the centre of another large
body, equally devoted, but more particularly
concerned with the commercial development of his ideas.
Mr. E. G. Acheson mentions in his personal notes on
work at the laboratory, that in December of 1880,
while on some experimental work, he was called to
the new lamp factory started recently at Menlo Park,
and there found Edison, Johnson, Batchelor, and
Upton in conference, and "Edison informed me that
Mr. Batchelor, who was in charge of the construction,
development, and operation of the lamp factory, was
soon to sail for Europe to prepare for the exhibit to
be made at the Electrical Exposition to be held in Paris
during the coming summer." These preparations overlap
the reinforcement of the staff with some notable
additions, chief among them being Mr. Samuel Insull,
whose interesting narrative of events fits admirably
into the story at this stage, and gives a vivid idea of
the intense activity and excitement with which the
whole atmosphere around Edison was then surcharged:
"I first met Edison on March 1, 1881. I
arrived in New York on the City of Chester about five
or six in the evening, and went direct to 65 Fifth
Avenue. I had come over to act as Edison's private
secretary, the position having been obtained for me
through the good offices of Mr. E. H. Johnson, whom
I had known in London, and who wrote to Mr. U. H.
Painter, of Washington, about me in the fall of 1880.
Mr. Painter sent the letter on to Mr. Batchelor, who
turned it over to Edison. Johnson returned to
America late in the fall of 1880, and in January, 1881,
cabled to me to come to this country. At the time
he cabled for me Edison was still at Menlo Park, but
when I arrived in New York the famous offices of the
Edison Electric Light Company had been opened at
`65' Fifth Avenue, and Edison had moved into New
York with the idea of assisting in the exploitation of
the Light Company's business.

"I was taken by Johnson direct from the Inman
Steamship pier to 65 Fifth Avenue, and met Edison
for the first time. There were three rooms on the
ground floor at that time. The front one was used
as a kind of reception-room; the room immediately
behind it was used as the office of the president of
the Edison Electric Light Company, Major S. B.
Eaton. The rear room, which was directly back of
the front entrance hall, was Edison's office, and there
I first saw him. There was very little in the room
except a couple of walnut roller-top desks--which were
very generally used in American offices at that time.
Edison received me with great cordiality. I think
he was possibly disappointed at my being so young
a man; I had only just turned twenty-one, and had
a very boyish appearance. The picture of Edison is
as vivid to me now as if the incident occurred
yesterday, although it is now more than twenty-nine
years since that first meeting. I had been connected
with Edison's affairs in England as private secretary
to his London agent for about two years; and had
been taught by Johnson to look on Edison as the
greatest electrical inventor of the day--a view of
him, by-the-way, which has been greatly strengthened
as the years have rolled by. Owing to this, and
to the fact that I felt highly flattered at the appointment
as his private secretary, I was naturally prepared
to accept him as a hero. With my strict English
ideas as to the class of clothes to be worn by a
prominent man, there was nothing in Edison's dress
to impress me. He wore a rather seedy black diagonal
Prince Albert coat and waistcoat, with trousers of a
dark material, and a white silk handkerchief around
his neck, tied in a careless knot falling over the stiff
bosom of a white shirt somewhat the worse for wear.
He had a large wide-awake hat of the sombrero pattern
then generally used in this country, and a rough,
brown overcoat, cut somewhat similarly to his Prince
Albert coat. His hair was worn quite long, and hanging
carelessly over his fine forehead. His face was
at that time, as it is now, clean shaven. He was full
in face and figure, although by no means as stout as
he has grown in recent years. What struck me above
everything else was the wonderful intelligence and
magnetism of his expression, and the extreme brightness
of his eyes. He was far more modest than in
my youthful picture of him. I had expected to find
a man of distinction. His appearance, as a whole,
was not what you would call `slovenly,' it is best
expressed by the word `careless.' "

Mr. Insull supplements this pen-picture by another,
bearing upon the hustle and bustle of the moment:
"After a short conversation Johnson hurried me off to
meet his family, and later in the evening, about eight
o'clock, he and I returned to Edison's office; and I
found myself launched without further ceremony into
Edison's business affairs. Johnson had already explained
to me that he was sailing the next morning,
March 2d, on the S.S. Arizona, and that Mr. Edison
wanted to spend the evening discussing matters in
connection with his European affairs. It was assumed,
inasmuch as I had just arrived from London,
that I would be able to give more or less information
on this subject. As Johnson was to sail the next
morning at five o'clock, Edison explained that it
would be necessary for him to have an understanding
of European matters. Edison started out by drawing
from his desk a check-book and stating how much
money he had in the bank; and he wanted to know
what European telephone securities were most salable,
as he wished to raise the necessary funds to put
on their feet the incandescent lamp factory, the
Electric Tube works, and the necessary shops to build
dynamos. All through the interview I was tremendously
impressed with Edison's wonderful resourcefulness
and grasp, and his immediate appreciation of
any suggestion of consequence bearing on the subject
under discussion.

"He spoke with very great enthusiasm of the work
before him--namely, the development of his electric-
lighting system; and his one idea seemed to be to
raise all the money he could with the object of pouring
it into the manufacturing side of the lighting
business. I remember how extraordinarily I was impressed
with him on this account, as I had just come
from a circle of people in London who not only questioned
the possibility of the success of Edison's invention,
but often expressed doubt as to whether the
work he had done could be called an invention at all.
After discussing affairs with Johnson--who was receiving
his final instructions from Edison--far into
the night, and going down to the steamer to see Johnson
aboard, I finished my first night's business with
Edison somewhere between four and five in the morning,
feeling thoroughly imbued with the idea that I
had met one of the great master minds of the world.
You must allow for my youthful enthusiasm, but
you must also bear in mind Edison's peculiar gift of
magnetism, which has enabled him during his career
to attach so many men to him. I fell a victim to the
spell at the first interview."

Events moved rapidly in those days. The next
morning, Tuesday, Edison took his new fidus Achates
with him to a conference with John Roach, the famous
old ship-builder, and at it agreed to take the AEtna
Iron works, where Roach had laid the foundations
of his fame and fortune. These works were not in
use at the time. They were situated on Goerck
Street, New York, north of Grand Street, on the
east side of the city, and there, very soon after, was
established the first Edison dynamo-manufacturing
establishment, known for many years as the Edison
Machine Works. The same night Insull made his
first visit to Menlo Park. Up to that time he had
seen very little incandescent lighting, for the simple
reason that there was very little to see. Johnson
had had a few Edison lamps in London, lit up from
primary batteries, as a demonstration; and in the
summer of 1880 Swan had had a few series lamps
burning in London. In New York a small gas-engine
plant was being started at the Edison offices on Fifth
Avenue. But out at Menlo Park there was the first
actual electric-lighting central station, supplying
distributed incandescent lamps and some electric motors
by means of underground conductors imbedded in
asphaltum and surrounded by a wooden box. Mr. Insull
says: "The system employed was naturally the
two-wire, as at that time the three-wire had not been
thought of. The lamps were partly of the horseshoe
filament paper-carbon type, and partly bamboo-filament
lamps, and were of an efficiency of 95 to 100
watts per 16 c.p. I can never forget the impression
that this first view of the electric-lighting industry
produced on me. Menlo Park must always be looked
upon as the birthplace of the electric light and
power industry. At that time it was the only place
where could be seen an electric light and power
multiple arc distribution system, the operation of
which seemed as successful to my youthful mind as
the operation of one of the large metropolitan systems
to-day. I well remember about ten o'clock that night
going down to the Menlo Park depot and getting the
station agent, who was also the telegraph operator, to
send some cable messages for me to my London
friends, announcing that I had seen Edison's incandescent
lighting system in actual operation, and that
so far as I could tell it was an accomplished fact. A
few weeks afterward I received a letter from one of
my London friends, who was a doubting Thomas,
upbraiding me for coming so soon under the spell of
the `Yankee inventor.' "

It was to confront and deal with just this element
of doubt in London and in Europe generally, that the
dispatch of Johnson to England and of Batchelor to
France was intended. Throughout the Edison staff
there was a mingled feeling of pride in the work,
resentment at the doubts expressed about it, and keen
desire to show how excellent it was. Batchelor left
for Paris in July, 1881--on his second trip to Europe
that year--and the exhibit was made which brought
such an instantaneous recognition of the incalculable
value of Edison's lighting inventions, as evidenced
by the awards and rewards immediately bestowed
upon him. He was made an officer of the Legion of
Honor, and Prof. George F. Barker cabled as follows
from Paris, announcing the decision of the expert
jury which passed upon the exhibits: "Accept my
congratulations. You have distanced all competitors
and obtained a diploma of honor, the highest
award given in the Exposition. No person in any
class in which you were an exhibitor received a like
reward."

Nor was this all. Eminent men in science who had
previously expressed their disbelief in the statements
made as to the Edison system were now foremost in
generous praise of his notable achievements, and accorded
him full credit for its completion. A typical
instance was M. Du Moncel, a distinguished electrician,
who had written cynically about Edison's work
and denied its practicability. He now recanted publicly
in this language, which in itself shows the state
of the art when Edison came to the front: "All these
experiments achieved but moderate success, and when,
in 1879, the new Edison incandescent carbon lamp
was announced, many of the scientists, and I,
particularly, doubted the accuracy of the reports which
came from America. This horseshoe of carbonized
paper seemed incapable to resist mechanical shocks
and to maintain incandescence for any considerable
length of time. Nevertheless, Mr. Edison was not
discouraged, and despite the active opposition made
to his lamp, despite the polemic acerbity of which he
was the object, he did not cease to perfect it; and
he succeeded in producing the lamps which we now
behold exhibited at the Exposition, and are admired
by all for their perfect steadiness."

The competitive lamps exhibited and tested at this
time comprised those of Edison, Maxim, Swan, and
Lane-Fox. The demonstration of Edison's success
stimulated the faith of his French supporters, and
rendered easier the completion of plans for the Societe
Edison Continental, of Paris, formed to operate
the Edison patents on the Continent of Europe. Mr.
Batchelor, with Messrs. Acheson and Hipple, and one
or two other assistants, at the close of the Exposition
transferred their energies to the construction and
equipment of machine-shops and lamp factories at
Ivry-sur-Seine for the company, and in a very short
time the installation of plants began in various
countries--France, Italy, Holland, Belgium, etc.

All through 1881 Johnson was very busy, for his
part, in England. The first "Jumbo" Edison dynamo
had gone to Paris; the second and third went to
London, where they were installed in 1881 by Mr.
Johnson and his assistant, Mr. W. J. Hammer, in the
three-thousand-light central station on Holborn Viaduct,
the plant going into operation on January 12,
1882. Outside of Menlo Park this was the first regular
station for incandescent lighting in the world, as
the Pearl Street station in New York did not go into
operation until September of the same year. This
historic plant was hurriedly thrown together on
Crown land, and would doubtless have been the
nucleus of a great system but for the passage of the
English electric lighting act of 1882, which at once
throttled the industry by its absurd restrictive
provisions, and which, though greatly modified, has left
England ever since in a condition of serious inferiority
as to development in electric light and power. The
streets and bridges of Holborn Viaduct were lighted
by lamps turned on and off from the station, as well
as the famous City Temple of Dr. Joseph Parker, the
first church in the world to be lighted by incandescent
lamps--indeed, so far as can be ascertained, the first
church to be illuminated by electricity in any form.
Mr. W. J. Hammer, who supplies some very interesting
notes on the installation, says: "I well remember
the astonishment of Doctor Parker and his associates
when they noted the difference of temperature as
compared with gas. I was informed that the people
would not go in the gallery in warm weather, owing
to the great heat caused by the many gas jets, whereas
on the introduction of the incandescent lamp there
was no complaint." The telegraph operating-room
of the General Post-Office, at St. Martin's-Le Grand
and Newgate Street nearby, was supplied with four
hundred lamps through the instrumentality of Mr.
(Sir) W. H. Preece, who, having been seriously sceptical
as to Mr. Edison's results, became one of his most
ardent advocates, and did much to facilitate the
introduction of the light. This station supplied its
customers by a network of feeders and mains of the
standard underground two-wire Edison tubing-conductors
in sections of iron pipe--such as was
used subsequently in New York, Milan, and other
cities. It also had a measuring system for the
current, employing the Edison electrolytic meter.
Arc lamps were operated from its circuits, and one of
the first sets of practicable storage batteries was
used experimentally at the station. In connection
with these batteries Mr. Hammer tells a characteristic
anecdote of Edison: "A careless boy passing through
the station whistling a tune and swinging carelessly
a hammer in his hand, rapped a carboy of sulphuric
acid which happened to be on the floor above a
`Jumbo' dynamo. The blow broke the glass carboy,
and the acid ran down upon the field magnets of
the dynamo, destroying the windings of one of the
twelve magnets. This accident happened while I
was taking a vacation in Germany, and a prominent
scientific man connected with the company cabled
Mr. Edison to know whether the machine would work
if the coil was cut out. Mr. Edison sent the laconic
reply: `Why doesn't he try it and see?' Mr. E. H.
Johnson was kept busy not only with the cares and
responsibilities of this pioneer English plant, but by
negotiations as to company formations, hearings before
Parliamentary committees, and particularly by
distinguished visitors, including all the foremost
scientific men in England, and a great many well-
known members of the peerage. Edison was fortunate
in being represented by a man with so much
address, intimate knowledge of the subject, and powers
of explanation. As one of the leading English
papers said at the time, with equal humor and truth:
`There is but one Edison, and Johnson is his prophet.' "

As the plant continued in operation, various details
and ideas of improvement emerged, and Mr. Hammer
says: "Up to the time of the construction of this
plant it had been customary to place a single-pole
switch on one wire and a safety fuse on the other;
and the practice of putting fuses on both sides of a
lighting circuit was first used here. Some of the first,
if not the very first, of the insulated fixtures were
used in this plant, and many of the fixtures were
equipped with ball insulating joints, enabling the
chandeliers--or `electroliers'--to be turned around,
as was common with the gas chandeliers. This particular
device was invented by Mr. John B. Verity,
whose firm built many of the fixtures for the Edison
Company, and constructed the notable electroliers
shown at the Crystal Palace Exposition of 1882."

We have made a swift survey of developments from
the time when the system of lighting was ready for
use, and when the staff scattered to introduce it. It
will be readily understood that Edison did not sit
with folded hands or drop into complacent satisfac-
tion the moment he had reached the practical stage
of commercial exploitation. He was not willing to
say "Let us rest and be thankful," as was one of
England's great Liberal leaders after a long period of
reform. On the contrary, he was never more active
than immediately after the work we have summed
up at the beginning of this chapter. While he had
been pursuing his investigations of the generator in
conjunction with the experiments on the incandescent
lamp, he gave much thought to the question of
distribution of the current over large areas, revolving
in his mind various plans for the accomplishment of
this purpose, and keeping his mathematicians very
busy working on the various schemes that suggested
themselves from time to time. The idea of a
complete system had been in his mind in broad outline
for a long time, but did not crystallize into
commercial form until the incandescent lamp was an
accomplished fact. Thus in January, 1880, his first
patent application for a "System of Electrical
Distribution" was signed. It was filed in the Patent
Office a few days later, but was not issued as a patent
until August 30, 1887. It covered, fundamentally,
multiple arc distribution, how broadly will be understood
from the following extracts from the New York
Electrical Review of September 10, 1887: "It would
appear as if the entire field of multiple distribution were
now in the hands of the owners of this patent....
The patent is about as broad as a patent can be, being
regardless of specific devices, and laying a powerful grasp
on the fundamental idea of multiple distribution from
a number of generators throughout a metallic circuit."

Mr. Edison made a number of other applications
for patents on electrical distribution during the year
1880. Among these was the one covering the celebrated
"Feeder" invention, which has been of very
great commercial importance in the art, its object
being to obviate the "drop" in pressure, rendering
lights dim in those portions of an electric-light system
that were remote from the central station.[10]


[10] For further explanation of "Feeder" patent, see Appendix.


From these two patents alone, which were absolutely
basic and fundamental in effect, and both of which
were, and still are, put into actual use wherever
central-station lighting is practiced, the reader will see
that Mr. Edison's patient and thorough study, aided
by his keen foresight and unerring judgment, had
enabled him to grasp in advance with a master hand
the chief and underlying principles of a true system--
that system which has since been put into practical use
all over the world, and whose elements do not need the
touch or change of more modern scientific knowledge.

These patents were not by any means all that he
applied for in the year 1880, which it will be remembered
was the year in which he was perfecting the
incandescent electric lamp and methods, to put into
the market for competition with gas. It was an
extraordinarily busy year for Mr. Edison and his
whole force, which from time to time was increased
in number. Improvement upon improvement was
the order of the day. That which was considered
good to-day was superseded by something better and
more serviceable to-morrow. Device after device,
relating to some part of the entire system, was designed,
built, and tried, only to be rejected ruthlessly
as being unsuitable; but the pursuit was not abandoned.
It was renewed over and over again in innumerable
ways until success had been attained.

During the year 1880 Edison had made application
for sixty patents, of which thirty-two were in relation
to incandescent lamps; seven covered inventions
relating to distributing systems (including the two
above particularized); five had reference to inventions
of parts, such as motors, sockets, etc.; six covered
inventions relating to dynamo-electric machines;
three related to electric railways, and seven to
miscellaneous apparatus, such as telegraph relays,
magnetic ore separators, magneto signalling apparatus, etc.

The list of Mr. Edison's patents (see Appendices)
is not only a monument to his life's work, but serves
to show what subjects he has worked on from year
to year since 1868. The reader will see from an
examination of this list that the years 1880, 1881,
1882, and 1883 were the most prolific periods of invention.
It is worth while to scrutinize this list
closely to appreciate the wide range of his activities.
Not that his patents cover his entire range of work
by any means, for his note-books reveal a great number
of major and minor inventions for which he has not
seen fit to take out patents. Moreover, at the period
now described Edison was the victim of a dishonest
patent solicitor, who deprived him of a number of
patents in the following manner:

"Around 1881-82 I had several solicitors attending
to different classes of work. One of these did me a
most serious injury. It was during the time that I
was developing my electric-lighting system, and I
was working and thinking very hard in order to cover
all the numerous parts, in order that it would be
complete in every detail. I filed a great many
applications for patents at that time, but there were
seventy-eight of the inventions I made in that period
that were entirely lost to me and my company by
reason of the dishonesty of this patent solicitor.
Specifications had been drawn, and I had signed
and sworn to the application for patents for these
seventy-eight inventions, and naturally I supposed
they had been filed in the regular way.

"As time passed I was looking for some action of
the Patent Office, as usual, but none came. I thought
it very strange, but had no suspicions until I began
to see my inventions recorded in the Patent Office
Gazette as being patented by others. Of course I
ordered an investigation, and found that the patent
solicitor had drawn from the company the fees for
filing all these applications, but had never filed them.
All the papers had disappeared, however, and what
he had evidently done was to sell them to others,
who had signed new applications and proceeded to
take out patents themselves on my inventions. I
afterward found that he had been previously mixed
up with a somewhat similar crooked job in connection
with telephone patents.

"I am free to confess that the loss of these seventy-
eight inventions has left a sore spot in me that has
never healed. They were important, useful, and
valuable, and represented a whole lot of tremendous
work and mental effort, and I had had a feeling of
pride in having overcome through them a great
many serious obstacles, One of these inventions covered
the multipolar dynamo. It was an elaborated
form of the type covered by my patent No. 219,393
which had a ring armature. I modified and improved
on this form and had a number of pole pieces placed
all around the ring, with a modified form of armature
winding. I built one of these machines and ran it
successfully in our early days at the Goerck Street shop.

"It is of no practical use to mention the man's
name. I believe he is dead, but he may have left
a family. The occurrence is a matter of the old
Edison Company's records."

It will be seen from an examination of the list of
patents in the Appendix that Mr. Edison has continued
year after year adding to his contributions to
the art of electric lighting, and in the last twenty-
eight years--1880-1908--has taken out no fewer
than three hundred and seventy-five patents in this
branch of industry alone. These patents may be
roughly tabulated as follows:

Incandescent lamps and their manufacture....................149
Distributing systems and their control and regulation....... 77
Dynamo-electric machines and accessories....................106
Minor parts, such as sockets, switches, safety catches,
meters, underground conductors and parts, etc............... 43


Quite naturally most of these patents cover inventions
that are in the nature of improvements or based
upon devices which he had already created; but there
are a number that relate to inventions absolutely
fundamental and original in their nature. Some of
these have already been alluded to; but among the
others there is one which is worthy of special mention
in connection with the present consideration of
a complete system. This is patent No. 274,290,
applied for November 27, 1882, and is known as the
"Three-wire" patent. It is described more fully in
the Appendix.

The great importance of the "Feeder" and "Three-
wire" inventions will be apparent when it is realized
that without them it is a question whether electric
light could be sold to compete with low-priced gas,
on account of the large investment in conductors
that would be necessary. If a large city area were
to be lighted from a central station by means of
copper conductors running directly therefrom to all
parts of the district, it would be necessary to install
large conductors, or suffer such a drop of pressure
at the ends most remote from the station as to
cause the lights there to burn with a noticeable
diminution of candle-power. The Feeder invention
overcame this trouble, and made it possible to use
conductors ONLY ONE-EIGHTH THE SIZE that would otherwise
have been necessary to produce the same results.

A still further economy in cost of conductors was
effected by the "Three-wire" invention, by the use
of which the already diminished conductors could be
still further reduced TO ONE-THIRD of this smaller size,
and at the same time allow of the successful operation
of the station with far better results than if it
were operated exactly as at first conceived. The
Feeder and Three-wire systems are at this day used
in all parts of the world, not only in central-station
work, but in the installation and operation of isolated
electric-light plants in large buildings. No sensible
or efficient station manager or electric contractor
would ever think of an installation made upon any
other plan. Thus Mr. Edison's early conceptions of
the necessities of a complete system, one of them
made even in advance of practice, have stood firm,
unimproved, and unchanged during the past twenty-
eight years, a period of time which has witnessed
more wonderful and rapid progress in electrical science
and art than has been known during any similar art
or period of time since the world began.

It must be remembered that the complete system
in all its parts is not comprised in the few of Mr.
Edison's patents, of which specific mention is here
made. In order to comprehend the magnitude and
extent of his work and the quality of his genius, it is
necessary to examine minutely the list of patents
issued for the various elements which go to make up
such a system. To attempt any relation in detail
of the conception and working-out of each part or
element; to enter into any description of the almost
innumerable experiments and investigations that were
made would entail the writing of several volumes, for
Mr. Edison's close-written note-books covering these
subjects number nearly two hundred.

It is believed that enough evidence has been given
in this chapter to lead to an appreciation of the
assiduous work and practical skill involved in "inventing
a system" of lighting that would surpass, and
to a great extent, in one single quarter of a century,
supersede all the other methods of illumination
developed during long centuries. But it will be ap-
propriate before passing on to note that on January
17, 1908, while this biography was being written,
Mr. Edison became the fourth recipient of the John
Fritz gold medal for achievement in industrial progress.
This medal was founded in 1902 by the professional
friends and associates of the veteran American
ironmaster and metallurgical inventor, in honor
of his eightieth birthday. Awards are made by a
board of sixteen engineers appointed in equal numbers
from the four great national engineering societies
--the American Society of Civil Engineers, the American
Institute of Mining Engineers, the American Society
of Mechanical Engineers, and the American
Institute of Electrical Engineers, whose membership
embraces the very pick and flower of professional
engineering talent in America. Up to the time of
the Edison award, three others had been made. The
first was to Lord Kelvin, the Nestor of physics in
Europe, for his work in submarine-cable telegraphy
and other scientific achievement. The second was
to George Westinghouse for the air-brake. The third
was to Alexander Graham Bell for the invention and
introduction of the telephone. The award to Edison
was not only for his inventions in duplex and quadruplex
telegraphy, and for the phonograph, but for the
development of a commercially practical incandescent
lamp, and the development of a complete system
of electric lighting, including dynamos, regulating
devices, underground system, protective devices, and
meters. Great as has been the genius brought to
bear on electrical development, there is no other man
to whom such a comprehensive tribute could be paid.



CHAPTER XV

INTRODUCTION OF THE EDISON ELECTRIC LIGHT

IN the previous chapter on the invention of a system,
the narrative has been carried along for several
years of activity up to the verge of the successful and
commercial application of Edison's ideas and devices
for incandescent electric lighting. The story of any
one year in this period, if treated chronologically,
would branch off in a great many different directions,
some going back to earlier work, others forward to
arts not yet within the general survey; and the effect
of such treatment would be confusing. In like manner
the development of the Edison lighting system
followed several concurrent, simultaneous lines of
advance; and an effort was therefore made in the
last chapter to give a rapid glance over the whole
movement, embracing a term of nearly five years, and
including in its scope both the Old World and the
New. What is necessary to the completeness of the
story at this stage is not to recapitulate, but to take
up some of the loose ends of threads woven in and
follow them through until the clear and comprehensive
picture of events can be seen.

Some things it would be difficult to reproduce in
any picture of the art and the times. One of the
greatest delusions of the public in regard to any
notable invention is the belief that the world is waiting
for it with open arms and an eager welcome. The
exact contrary is the truth. There is not a single new
art or device the world has ever enjoyed of which
it can be said that it was given an immediate and
enthusiastic reception. The way of the inventor is
hard. He can sometimes raise capital to help him
in working out his crude conceptions, but even then
it is frequently done at a distressful cost of personal
surrender. When the result is achieved the invention
makes its appeal on the score of economy of
material or of effort; and then "labor" often awaits
with crushing and tyrannical spirit to smash the
apparatus or forbid its very use. Where both capital
and labor are agreed that the object is worthy of
encouragement, there is the supreme indifference of
the public to overcome, and the stubborn resistance
of pre-existing devices to combat. The years of hardship
and struggle are thus prolonged, the chagrin of
poverty and neglect too frequently embitters the
inventor's scanty bread; and one great spirit after
another has succumbed to the defeat beyond which
lay the procrastinated triumph so dearly earned.
Even in America, where the adoption of improvements
and innovations is regarded as so prompt and
sure, and where the huge tolls of the Patent Office
and the courts bear witness to the ceaseless efforts
of the inventor, it is impossible to deny the sad truth
that unconsciously society discourages invention
rather than invites it. Possibly our national optimism
as revealed in invention--the seeking a higher
good--needs some check. Possibly the leaders would
travel too fast and too far on the road to perfection
if conservatism did not also play its salutary part
in insisting that the procession move forward as a
whole.

Edison and his electric light were happily more
fortunate than other men and inventions, in the relative
cordiality of the reception given them. The
merit was too obvious to remain unrecognized.
Nevertheless, it was through intense hostility and
opposition that the young art made its way, pushed
forward by Edison's own strong personality and by
his unbounded, unwavering faith in the ultimate success
of his system. It may seem strange that great
effort was required to introduce a light so manifestly
convenient, safe, agreeable, and advantageous,
but the facts are matter of record; and to-day the
recollection of some of the episodes brings a fierce
glitter into the eye and keen indignation into the
voice of the man who has come so victoriously through
it all.

It was not a fact at any time that the public was
opposed to the idea of the electric light. On the contrary,
the conditions for its acceptance had been ripening
fast. Yet the very vogue of the electric arc light
made harder the arrival of the incandescent. As a
new illuminant for the streets, the arc had become
familiar, either as a direct substitute for the low gas
lamp along the sidewalk curb, or as a novel form of
moonlight, raised in groups at the top of lofty towers
often a hundred and fifty feet high. Some of these
lights were already in use for large indoor spaces,
although the size of the unit, the deadly pressure of
the current, and the sputtering sparks from the carbons
made them highly objectionable for such purposes.
A number of parent arc-lighting companies
were in existence, and a great many local companies
had been called into being under franchises for
commercial business and to execute regular city contracts
for street lighting. In this manner a good deal of
capital and the energies of many prominent men in
politics and business had been rallied distinctively
to the support of arc lighting. Under the inventive
leadership of such brilliant men as Brush, Thomson,
Weston, and Van Depoele--there were scores of
others--the industry had made considerable progress
and the art had been firmly established. Here lurked,
however, very vigorous elements of opposition, for
Edison predicted from the start the superiority of the
small electric unit of light, and devoted himself
exclusively to its perfection and introduction. It can
be readily seen that this situation made it all the more
difficult for the Edison system to secure the large
sums of money needed for its exploitation, and to
obtain new franchises or city ordinances as a public
utility. Thus in a curious manner the modern art
of electric lighting was in a very true sense divided
against itself, with intense rivalries and jealousies
which were none the less real because they were but
temporary and occurred in a field where ultimate
union of forces was inevitable. For a long period the
arc was dominant and supreme in the lighting branch
of the electrical industries, in all respects, whether as
to investment, employees, income, and profits, or in
respect to the manufacturing side. When the great
National Electric Light Association was formed in
1885, its organizers were the captains of arc lighting,
and not a single Edison company or licensee could be
found in its ranks, or dared to solicit membership.
The Edison companies, soon numbering about three
hundred, formed their own association--still maintained
as a separate and useful body--and the lines
were tensely drawn in a way that made it none too
easy for the Edison service to advance, or for an
impartial man to remain friendly with both sides.
But the growing popularity of incandescent lighting,
the flexibility and safety of the system, the ease with
which other electric devices for heat, power, etc.,
could be put indiscriminately on the same circuits
with the lamps, in due course rendered the old attitude
of opposition obviously foolish and untenable.
The United States Census Office statistics of 1902
show that the income from incandescent lighting by
central stations had by that time become over 52
per cent. of the total, while that from arc lighting
was less than 29; and electric-power service due to
the ease with which motors could be introduced on
incandescent circuits brought in 15 per cent. more.
Hence twenty years after the first Edison stations
were established the methods they involved could be
fairly credited with no less than 67 per cent. of all
central-station income in the country, and the
proportion has grown since then. It will be readily
understood that under these conditions the modern
lighting company supplies to its customers both
incandescent and arc lighting, frequently from the same
dynamo-electric machinery as a source of current;
and that the old feud as between the rival systems
has died out. In fact, for some years past the presidents
of the National Electric Light Association have
been chosen almost exclusively from among the managers
of the great Edison lighting companies in the
leading cities.

The other strong opposition to the incandescent
light came from the gas industry. There also the
most bitter feeling was shown. The gas manager did
not like the arc light, but it interfered only with his
street service, which was not his largest source of
income by any means. What did arouse his ire and
indignation was to find this new opponent, the little
incandescent lamp, pushing boldly into the field of
interior lighting, claiming it on a great variety of
grounds of superiority, and calmly ignoring the question
of price, because it was so much better. Newspaper
records and the pages of the technical papers
of the day show to what an extent prejudice and
passion were stirred up and the astounding degree
to which the opposition to the new light was carried.

Here again was given a most convincing demonstration
of the truth that such an addition to the
resources of mankind always carries with it unsuspected
benefits even for its enemies. In two distinct
directions the gas art was immediately helped by
Edison's work. The competition was most salutary
in the stimulus it gave to improvements in processes
for making, distributing, and using gas, so that while
vast economies have been effected at the gas works,
the customer has had an infinitely better light for
less money. In the second place, the coming of the
incandescent light raised the standard of illumination
in such a manner that more gas than ever was
wanted in order to satisfy the popular demand for
brightness and brilliancy both indoors and on the
street. The result of the operation of these two
forces acting upon it wholly from without, and from
a rival it was desired to crush, has been to increase
enormously the production and use of gas in the last
twenty-five years. It is true that the income of the
central stations is now over $300,000,000 a year, and
that isolated-plant lighting represents also a large
amount of diverted business; but as just shown, it
would obviously be unfair to regard all this as a loss
from the standpoint of gas. It is in great measure
due to new sources of income developed by electricity
for itself.

A retrospective survey shows that had the men in
control of the American gas-lighting art, in 1880, been
sufficiently far-sighted, and had they taken a broader
view of the situation, they might easily have remained
dominant in the whole field of artificial lighting by
securing the ownership of the patents and devices of
the new industry. Apparently not a single step of
that kind was undertaken, nor probably was there
a gas manager who would have agreed with Edison in
the opinion written down by him at the time in little
note-book No. 184, that gas properties were having
conferred on them an enhanced earning capacity.
It was doubtless fortunate and providential for the
electric-lighting art that in its state of immature
development it did not fall into the hands of men who
were opposed to its growth, and would not have sought
its technical perfection. It was allowed to carve out
its own career, and thus escaped the fate that is
supposed to have attended other great inventions--of
being bought up merely for purposes of suppression.
There is a vague popular notion that this happens to
the public loss; but the truth is that no discovery of
any real value is ever entirely lost. It may be retarded;
but that is all. In the case of the gas companies
and the incandescent light, many of them to
whom it was in the early days as great an irritant as
a red flag to a bull, emulated the performance of that
animal and spent a great deal of money and energy
in bellowing and throwing up dirt in the effort to
destroy the hated enemy. This was not long nor
universally the spirit shown; and to-day in hundreds
of cities the electric and gas properties are united
under the one management, which does not find it
impossible to push in a friendly and progressive way
the use of both illuminants. The most conspicuous
example of this identity of interest is given in New
York itself.

So much for the early opposition, of which there
was plenty. But it may be questioned whether
inertia is not equally to be dreaded with active ill-will.
Nothing is more difficult in the world than to get a
good many hundreds of thousands or millions of people
to do something they have never done before. A
very real difficulty in the introduction of his lamp
and lighting system by Edison lay in the absolute
ignorance of the public at large, not only as to its
merits, but as to the very appearance of the light,
Some few thousand people had gone out to Menlo
Park, and had there seen the lamps in operation at
the laboratory or on the hillsides, but they were an
insignificant proportion of the inhabitants of the
United States. Of course, a great many accounts
were written and read, but while genuine interest was
aroused it was necessarily apathetic. A newspaper
description or a magazine article may be admirably
complete in itself, with illustrations, but until some
personal experience is had of the thing described it
does not convey a perfect mental picture, nor can it
always make the desire active and insistent. Generally,
people wait to have the new thing brought to
them; and hence, as in the case of the Edison light,
an educational campaign of a practical nature is a
fundamental condition of success.

Another serious difficulty confronting Edison and
his associates was that nowhere in the world were
there to be purchased any of the appliances necessary
for the use of the lighting system. Edison had resolved
from the very first that the initial central
station embodying his various ideas should be installed
in New York City, where he could superintend
the installation personally, and then watch the operation.
Plans to that end were now rapidly maturing;
but there would be needed among many other things
--every one of them new and novel--dynamos,
switchboards, regulators, pressure and current
indicators, fixtures in great variety, incandescent
lamps, meters, sockets, small switches, underground
conductors, junction-boxes, service-boxes, manhole-
boxes, connectors, and even specially made wire.
Now, not one of these miscellaneous things was in
existence; not an outsider was sufficiently informed
about such devices to make them on order, except
perhaps the special wire. Edison therefore started
first of all a lamp factory in one of the buildings at
Menlo Park, equipped it with novel machinery and
apparatus, and began to instruct men, boys, and girls,
as they could be enlisted, in the absolutely new art,
putting Mr. Upton in charge.

With regard to the conditions attendant upon the
manufacture of the lamps, Edison says: "When we
first started the electric light we had to have a factory
for manufacturing lamps. As the Edison Light Company
did not seem disposed to go into manufacturing,
we started a small lamp factory at Menlo Park with
what money I could raise from my other inventions
and royalties, and some assistance. The lamps at
that time were costing about $1.25 each to make, so
I said to the company: `If you will give me a contract
during the life of the patents, I will make all
the lamps required by the company and deliver them
for forty cents.' The company jumped at the chance
of this offer, and a contract was drawn up. We then
bought at a receiver's sale at Harrison, New Jersey,
a very large brick factory building which had been
used as an oil-cloth works. We got it at a great bargain,
and only paid a small sum down, and the balance
on mortgage. We moved the lamp works from
Menlo Park to Harrison. The first year the lamps
cost us about $1.10 each. We sold them for forty
cents; but there were only about twenty or thirty
thousand of them. The next year they cost us about
seventy cents, and we sold them for forty. There
were a good many, and we lost more money the
second year than the first. The third year I succeeded
in getting up machinery and in changing the
processes, until it got down so that they cost somewhere
around fifty cents. I still sold them for forty
cents, and lost more money that year than any other,
because the sales were increasing rapidly. The
fourth year I got it down to thirty-seven cents, and
I made all the money up in one year that I had lost
previously. I finally got it down to twenty-two
cents, and sold them for forty cents; and they were
made by the million. Whereupon the Wall Street
people thought it was a very lucrative business, so
they concluded they would like to have it, and
bought us out.

"One of the incidents which caused a very great
cheapening was that, when we started, one of the
important processes had to be done by experts. This
was the sealing on of the part carrying the filament
into the globe, which was rather a delicate operation
in those days, and required several months of training
before any one could seal in a fair number of parts
in a day. When we got to the point where we employed
eighty of these experts they formed a union;
and knowing it was impossible to manufacture lamps
without them, they became very insolent. One instance
was that the son of one of these experts was
employed in the office, and when he was told to do
anything would not do it, or would give an insolent
reply. He was discharged, whereupon the union
notified us that unless the boy was taken back the
whole body would go out. It got so bad that the
manager came to me and said he could not stand it
any longer; something had got to be done. They
were not only more surly; they were diminishing the
output, and it became impossible to manage the
works. He got me enthused on the subject, so I
started in to see if it were not possible to do that
operation by machinery. After feeling around for
some days I got a clew how to do it. I then put men
on it I could trust, and made the preliminary machinery.
That seemed to work pretty well. I then
made another machine which did the work nicely.
I then made a third machine, and would bring in
yard men, ordinary laborers, etc., and when I could
get these men to put the parts together as well as
the trained experts, in an hour, I considered the
machine complete. I then went secretly to work
and made thirty of the machines. Up in the top
loft of the factory we stored those machines, and at
night we put up the benches and got everything all
ready. Then we discharged the office-boy. Then
the union went out. It has been out ever since.

"When we formed the works at Harrison we divided
the interests into one hundred shares or parts
at $100 par. One of the boys was hard up after a
time, and sold two shares to Bob Cutting. Up to
that time we had never paid anything; but we got
around to the point where the board declared a
dividend every Saturday night. We had never declared
a dividend when Cutting bought his shares,
and after getting his dividends for three weeks in
succession, he called up on the telephone and wanted
to know what kind of a concern this was that paid
a weekly dividend. The works sold for $1,085,000."

Incidentally it may be noted, as illustrative of the
problems brought to Edison, that while he had the
factory at Harrison an importer in the Chinese trade
went to him and wanted a dynamo to be run by
hand power. The importer explained that in China
human labor was cheaper than steam power. Edison
devised a machine to answer the purpose, and put
long spokes on it, fitted it up, and shipped it to
China. He has not, however, heard of it since.

For making the dynamos Edison secured, as noted
in the preceding chapter, the Roach Iron Works on
Goerck Street, New York, and this was also equipped.
A building was rented on Washington Street, where
machinery and tools were put in specially designed
for making the underground tube conductors and
their various paraphernalia; and the faithful John
Kruesi was given charge of that branch of production.
To Sigmund Bergmann, who had worked previously
with Edison on telephone apparatus and phonographs,
and was already making Edison specialties
in a small way in a loft on Wooster Street, New York,
was assigned the task of constructing sockets, fixtures,
meters, safety fuses, and numerous other
details.

Thus, broadly, the manufacturing end of the problem
of introduction was cared for. In the early part
of 1881 the Edison Electric Light Company leased
the old Bishop mansion at 65 Fifth Avenue, close to
Fourteenth Street, for its headquarters and show-
rooms. This was one of the finest homes in the
city of that period, and its acquisition was a premonitory
sign of the surrender of the famous residential
avenue to commerce. The company needed
not only offices, but, even more, such an interior as
would display to advantage the new light in everyday
use; and this house with its liberal lines, spacious
halls, lofty ceilings, wide parlors, and graceful, winding
stairway was ideal for the purpose. In fact, in
undergoing this violent change, it did not cease to
be a home in the real sense, for to this day many
an Edison veteran's pulse is quickened by some
chance reference to "65," where through many years
the work of development by a loyal and devoted
band of workers was centred. Here Edison and a
few of his assistants from Menlo Park installed
immediately in the basement a small generating plant,
at first with a gas-engine which was not successful,
and then with a Hampson high-speed engine and
boiler, constituting a complete isolated plant. The
building was wired from top to bottom, and equipped
with all the appliances of the art. The experience
with the little gas-engine was rather startling. "At
an early period at `65' we decided," says Edison, "to
light it up with the Edison system, and put a gas-
engine in the cellar, using city gas. One day it was
not going very well, and I went down to the man in
charge and got exploring around. Finally I opened
the pedestal--a storehouse for tools, etc. We had
an open lamp, and when we opened the pedestal, it
blew the doors off, and blew out the windows, and
knocked me down, and the other man."

For the next four or five years "65" was a veritable
beehive, day and night. The routine was very much
the same as that at the laboratory, in its utter neglect
of the clock. The evenings were not only devoted to
the continuance of regular business, but the house
was thrown open to the public until late at night,
never closing before ten o'clock, so as to give everybody
who wished an opportunity to see that great
novelty of the time--the incandescent light--whose
fame had meanwhile been spreading all over the
globe. The first year, 1881, was naturally that which
witnessed the greatest rush of visitors; and the
building hardly ever closed its doors till midnight.
During the day business was carried on under great
stress, and Mr. Insull has described how Edison was
to be found there trying to lead the life of a man of
affairs in the conventional garb of polite society,
instead of pursuing inventions and researches in his
laboratory. But the disagreeable ordeal could not
be dodged. After the experience Edison could never
again be tempted to quit his laboratory and work
for any length of time; but in this instance there were
some advantages attached to the sacrifice, for the
crowds of lion-hunters and people seeking business
arrangements would only have gone out to Menlo
Park; while, on the other hand, the great plans for
lighting New York demanded very close personal
attention on the spot.

As it was, not only Edison, but all the company's
directors, officers, and employees, were kept busy
exhibiting and explaining the light. To the public
of that day, when the highest known form of house
illuminant was gas, the incandescent lamp, with its
ability to burn in any position, its lack of heat so
that you could put your hand on the brilliant glass
globe; the absence of any vitiating effect on the
atmosphere, the obvious safety from fire; the curious
fact that you needed no matches to light it, and
that it was under absolute control from a distance--
these and many other features came as a distinct
revelation and marvel, while promising so much
additional comfort, convenience, and beauty in the
home, that inspection was almost invariably followed
by a request for installation.

The camaraderie that existed at this time was very
democratic, for all were workers in a common cause;
all were enthusiastic believers in the doctrine they
proclaimed, and hoped to profit by the opening up
of the new art. Often at night, in the small hours,
all would adjourn for refreshments to a famous resort
nearby, to discuss the events of to-day and to-
morrow, full of incident and excitement. The easy
relationship of the time is neatly sketched by Edison
in a humorous complaint as to his inability to keep
his own cigars: "When at `65' I used to have in my
desk a box of cigars. I would go to the box four or
five times to get a cigar, but after it got circulated
about the building, everybody would come to get
my cigars, so that the box would only last about a
day and a half. I was telling a gentleman one day
that I could not keep a cigar. Even if I locked them
up in my desk they would break it open. He suggested
to me that he had a friend over on Eighth
Avenue who made a superior grade of cigars, and
who would show them a trick. He said he would
have some of them made up with hair and old paper,
and I could put them in without a word and see the
result. I thought no more about the matter. He
came in two or three months after, and said: `How
did that cigar business work?' I didn't remember
anything about it. On coming to investigate, it
appeared that the box of cigars had been delivered
and had been put in my desk, and I had smoked
them all! I was too busy on other things to notice."

It was no uncommon sight to see in the parlors in
the evening John Pierpont Morgan, Norvin Green,
Grosvenor P. Lowrey, Henry Villard, Robert L.
Cutting, Edward D. Adams, J. Hood Wright, E. G.
Fabbri, R. M. Galloway, and other men prominent in
city life, many of them stock-holders and directors;
all interested in doing this educational work. Thousands
of persons thus came--bankers, brokers, lawyers,
editors, and reporters, prominent business men,
electricians, insurance experts, under whose searching
and intelligent inquiries the facts were elicited, and
general admiration was soon won for the system,
which in advance had solved so many new problems.
Edison himself was in universal request and the subject
of much adulation, but altogether too busy and
modest to be spoiled by it. Once in a while he felt
it his duty to go over the ground with scientific
visitors, many of whom were from abroad, and discuss
questions which were not simply those of technique,
but related to newer phenomena, such as the
action of carbon, the nature and effects of high
vacua; the principles of electrical subdivision; the
value of insulation, and many others which, unfortu-
nate to say, remain as esoteric now as they were then,
ever fruitful themes of controversy.

Speaking of those days or nights, Edison says:
"Years ago one of the great violinists was Remenyi.
After his performances were over he used to come
down to `65' and talk economics, philosophy, moral
science, and everything else. He was highly educated
and had great mental capacity. He would talk with
me, but I never asked him to bring his violin. One
night he came with his violin, about twelve o'clock.
I had a library at the top of the house, and Remenyi
came up there. He was in a genial humor, and played
the violin for me for about two hours--$2000 worth.
The front doors were closed, and he walked up and
down the room as he played. After that, every time
he came to New York he used to call at `65' late at
night with his violin. If we were not there, he could
come down to the slums at Goerck Street, and would
play for an hour or two and talk philosophy. I would
talk for the benefit of his music. Henry E. Dixey,
then at the height of his `Adonis' popularity, would
come in in those days, after theatre hours, and would
entertain us with stories--1882-84. Another visitor
who used to give us a good deal of amusement and
pleasure was Captain Shaw, the head of the London
Fire Brigade. He was good company. He would
go out among the fire-laddies and have a great time.
One time Robert Lincoln and Anson Stager, of the
Western Union, interested in the electric light, came
on to make some arrangement with Major Eaton,
President of the Edison Electric Light Company.
They came to `65' in the afternoon, and Lincoln com-
menced telling stories--like his father. They told
stories all the afternoon, and that night they left for
Chicago. When they got to Cleveland, it dawned
upon them that they had not done any business, so
they had to come back on the next train to New York
to transact it. They were interested in the Chicago
Edison Company, now one of the largest of the
systems in the world. Speaking of telling stories, I
once got telling a man stories at the Harrison lamp
factory, in the yard, as he was leaving. It was
winter, and he was all in furs. I had nothing on to
protect me against the cold. I told him one story
after the other--six of them. Then I got pleurisy,
and had to be shipped to Florida for cure."

The organization of the Edison Electric Light Company
went back to 1878; but up to the time of leasing
65 Fifth Avenue it had not been engaged in actual
business. It had merely enjoyed the delights of
anxious anticipation, and the perilous pleasure of
backing Edison's experiments. Now active exploitation
was required. Dr. Norvin Green, the well-known
President of the Western Union Telegraph Company,
was president also of the Edison Company, but the
pressing nature of his regular duties left him no
leisure for such close responsible management as was
now required. Early in 1881 Mr. Grosvenor P.
Lowrey, after consultation with Mr. Edison, prevailed
upon Major S. B. Eaton, the leading member
of a very prominent law firm in New York, to
accept the position of vice-president and general
manager of the company, in which, as also in some
of the subsidiary Edison companies, and as presi-
dent, he continued actively and energetically for
nearly four years, a critical, formative period in which
the solidity of the foundation laid is attested by the
magnitude and splendor of the superstructure.

The fact that Edison conferred at this point with
Mr. Lowrey should, perhaps, be explained in justice
to the distinguished lawyer, who for so many years
was the close friend of the inventor, and the chief
counsel in all the tremendous litigation that followed
the effort to enforce and validate the Edison patents.
As in England Mr. Edison was fortunate in securing
the legal assistance of Sir Richard Webster, afterward
Lord Chief Justice of England, so in America it
counted greatly in his favor to enjoy the advocacy
of such a man as Lowrey, prominent among the famous
leaders of the New York bar. Born in Massachusetts,
Mr. Lowrey, in his earlier days of straitened
circumstances, was accustomed to defray some portion
of his educational expenses by teaching music
in the Berkshire villages, and by a curious coincidence
one of his pupils was F. L. Pope, later Edison's
partner for a time. Lowrey went West to "Bleeding
Kansas" with the first Governor, Reeder, and both
were active participants in the exciting scenes of the
"Free State" war until driven away in 1856, like
many other free-soilers, by the acts of the "Border
Ruffian" legislature. Returning East, Mr. Lowrey
took up practice in New York, soon becoming eminent
in his profession, and upon the accession of William
Orton to the presidency of the Western Union Telegraph
Company in 1866, he was appointed its general
counsel, the duties of which post he discharged for
fifteen years. One of the great cases in which he
thus took a leading and distinguished part was that
of the quadruplex telegraph; and later he acted as
legal adviser to Henry Villard in his numerous
grandiose enterprises. Lowrey thus came to know
Edison, to conceive an intense admiration for him,
and to believe in his ability at a time when others
could not detect the fire of genius smouldering beneath
the modest exterior of a gaunt young operator
slowly "finding himself." It will be seen that Mr
Lowrey was in a peculiarly advantageous position to
make his convictions about Edison felt, so that it was
he and his friends who rallied quickly to the new
banner of discovery, and lent to the inventor the aid
that came at a critical period. In this connection it
may be well to quote an article that appeared at the
time of Mr. Lowrey's death, in 1893: "One of the
most important services which Mr. Lowrey has ever
performed was in furnishing and procuring the necessary
financial backing for Thomas A. Edison in bringing
out and perfecting his system of incandescent
lighting. With characteristic pertinacity, Mr. Lowrey
stood by the inventor through thick and thin, in spite
of doubt, discouragement, and ridicule, until at last
success crowned his efforts. In all the litigation
which has resulted from the wide-spread infringements
of the Edison patents, Mr. Lowrey has ever
borne the burden and heat of the day, and perhaps
in no other field has he so personally distinguished
himself as in the successful advocacy of the claims of
Edison to the invention of the incandescent lamp
and everything "hereunto pertaining."

This was the man of whom Edison had necessarily
to make a confidant and adviser, and who supplied
other things besides the legal direction and financial
alliance, by his knowledge of the world and of affairs.
There were many vital things to be done in the
exploitation of the system that Edison simply could
not and would not do; but in Lowrey's savoir faire,
ready wit and humor, chivalry of devotion, graceful
eloquence, and admirable equipoise of judgment were
all the qualities that the occasion demanded and that
met the exigencies.

We are indebted to Mr. Insull for a graphic sketch
of Edison at this period, and of the conditions under
which work was done and progress was made: "I do
not think I had any understanding with Edison
when I first went with him as to my duties. I did
whatever he told me, and looked after all kinds of
affairs, from buying his clothes to financing his business.
I used to open the correspondence and answer
it all, sometimes signing Edison's name with my
initial, and sometimes signing my own name. If the
latter course was pursued, and I was addressing a
stranger, I would sign as Edison's private secretary.
I held his power of attorney, and signed his checks.
It was seldom that Edison signed a letter or check at
this time. If he wanted personally to send a
communication to anybody, if it was one of his close
associates, it would probably be a pencil memorandum
signed `Edison.' I was a shorthand writer, but seldom
took down from Edison's dictation, unless it was
on some technical subject that I did not understand.
I would go over the correspondence with Edison,
sometimes making a marginal note in shorthand, and
sometimes Edison would make his own notes on letters,
and I would be expected to clean up the correspondence
with Edison's laconic comments as a guide
as to the character of answer to make. It was a
very common thing for Edison to write the words
`Yes' or `No,' and this would be all I had on which
to base my answer. Edison marginalized documents
extensively. He had a wonderful ability in pointing
out the weak points of an agreement or a balance-sheet,
all the while protesting he was no lawyer or accountant;
and his views were expressed in very few words,
but in a characteristic and emphatic manner.

"The first few months I was with Edison he spent
most of the time in the office at 65 Fifth Avenue.
Then there was a great deal of trouble with the life
of the lamps there, and he disappeared from the
office and spent his time largely at Menlo Park. At
another time there was a great deal of trouble
with some of the details of construction of the
dynamos, and Edison spent a lot of time at Goerck
Street, which had been rapidly equipped with the
idea of turning out bi-polar dynamo-electric machines,
direct-connected to the engine, the first of
which went to Paris and London, while the next were
installed in the old Pearl Street station of the Edison
Electric Illuminating Company of New York, just
south of Fulton Street, on the west side of the street.
Edison devoted a great deal of his time to the
engineering work in connection with the laying out of
the first incandescent electric-lighting system in New
York. Apparently at that time--between the end
of 1881 and spring of 1882--the most serious work
was the manufacture and installation of underground
conductors in this territory. These conductors
were manufactured by the Electric Tube
Company, which Edison controlled in a shop at 65
Washington Street, run by John Kruesi. Half-round
copper conductors were used, kept in place relatively
to each other and in the tube, first of all by a heavy
piece of cardboard, and later on by a rope; and then
put in a twenty-foot iron pipe; and a combination of
asphaltum and linseed oil was forced into the pipe for
the insulation. I remember as a coincidence that the
building was only twenty feet wide. These lengths
of conductors were twenty feet six inches long, as
the half-round coppers extended three inches beyond
the drag-ends of the lengths of pipe; and in one of
the operations we used to take the length of tubing
out of the window in order to turn it around. I was
elected secretary of the Electric Tube Company, and
was expected to look after its finance; and it was in
this position that my long intimacy with John Kruesi
started."

At this juncture a large part of the correspondence
referred very naturally to electric lighting, embodying
requests for all kinds of information, catalogues,
prices, terms, etc.; and all these letters were turned
over to the lighting company by Edison for attention.
The company was soon swamped with propositions for
sale of territorial rights and with other negotiations,
and some of these were accompanied by the offer of
very large sums of money. It was the beginning of
the electric-light furor which soon rose to sensational
heights. Had the company accepted the cash offers
from various localities, it could have gathered several
millions of dollars at once into its treasury; but this
was not at all in accord with Mr. Edison's idea, which
was to prove by actual experience the commercial
value of the system, and then to license central-
station companies in large cities and towns, the parent
company taking a percentage of their capital for the
license under the Edison patents, and contracting
also for the supply of apparatus, lamps, etc. This
left the remainder of the country open for the cash
sale of plants wherever requested. His counsels prevailed,
and the wisdom of the policy adopted was seen
in the swift establishment of Edison companies in
centres of population both great and small, whose
business has ever been a constant and growing source
of income for the parent manufacturing interests.

From first to last Edison has been an exponent and
advocate of the central-station idea of distribution
now so familiar to the public mind, but still very far
from being carried out to its logical conclusion. In
this instance, demands for isolated plants for lighting
factories, mills, mines, hotels, etc., began to pour in,
and something had to be done with them. This was
a class of plant which the inquirers desired to purchase
outright and operate themselves, usually because
of remoteness from any possible source of
general supply of current. It had not been Edison's
intention to cater to this class of customer until his
broad central-station plan had been worked out, and
he has always discouraged the isolated plant within
the limits of urban circuits; but this demand was so
insistent it could not be denied, and it was deemed
desirable to comply with it at once, especially as it
was seen that the steady call for supplies and renewals
would benefit the new Edison manufacturing
plants. After a very short trial, it was found necessary
to create a separate organization for this branch
of the industry, leaving the Edison Electric Light
Company to continue under the original plan of
operation as a parent, patent-holding and licensing
company. Accordingly a new and distinct corporation
was formed called the Edison Company for
Isolated Lighting, to which was issued a special
license to sell and operate plants of a self-contained
character. As a matter of fact such work began in
advance of almost every other kind. A small plant
using the paper-carbon filament lamps was furnished
by Edison at the earnest solicitation of Mr. Henry
Villard for the steamship Columbia, in 1879, and it
is amusing to note that Mr. Upton carried the lamps
himself to the ship, very tenderly and jealously, like
fresh eggs, in a market-garden basket. The installation
was most successful. Another pioneer plant was
that equipped and started in January, 1881, for
Hinds & Ketcham, a New York firm of lithographers
and color printers, who had previously been able to
work only by day, owing to difficulties in color-
printing by artificial light. A year later they said:
"It is the best substitute for daylight we have ever
known, and almost as cheap."

Mr. Edison himself describes various instances in
which the demand for isolated plants had to be met:
"One night at `65,' " he says, "James Gordon Bennett
came in. We were very anxious to get into a printing
establishment. I had caused a printer's composing
case to be set up with the idea that if we could get
editors and publishers in to see it, we should show
them the advantages of the electric light. So ultimately
Mr. Bennett came, and after seeing the whole
operation of everything, he ordered Mr. Howland,
general manager of the Herald, to light the newspaper
offices up at once with electricity."

Another instance of the same kind deals with the
introduction of the light for purely social purposes:
"While at 65 Fifth Avenue," remarks Mr. Edison,
"I got to know Christian Herter, then the largest
decorator in the United States. He was a highly
intellectual man, and I loved to talk to him. He was
always railing against the rich people, for whom he
did work, for their poor taste. One day Mr. W. H.
Vanderbilt came to `65,' saw the light, and decided
that he would have his new house lighted with it.
This was one of the big `box houses' on upper Fifth
Avenue. He put the whole matter in the hands of
his son-in-law, Mr. H. McK. Twombly, who was then
in charge of the telephone department of the Western
Union. Twombly closed the contract with us for a
plant. Mr. Herter was doing the decoration, and it
was extraordinarily fine. After a while we got the
engines and boilers and wires all done, and the lights
in position, before the house was quite finished, and
thought we would have an exhibit of the light. About
eight o'clock in the evening we lit up, and it was very
good. Mr. Vanderbilt and his wife and some of his
daughters came in, and were there a few minutes
when a fire occurred. The large picture-gallery was
lined with silk cloth interwoven with fine metallic
thread. In some manner two wires had got crossed
with this tinsel, which became red-hot, and the whole
mass was soon afire. I knew what was the matter,
and ordered them to run down and shut off. It had
not burst into flame, and died out immediately.
Mrs. Vanderbilt became hysterical, and wanted to
know where it came from. We told her we had the
plant in the cellar, and when she learned we had a
boiler there she said she would not occupy the house.
She would not live over a boiler. We had to take
the whole installation out. The houses afterward
went onto the New York Edison system."

The art was, however, very crude and raw, and as
there were no artisans in existence as mechanics or
electricians who had any knowledge of the practice,
there was inconceivable difficulty in getting such
isolated plants installed, as well as wiring the buildings
in the district to be covered by the first central
station in New York. A night school was, therefore,
founded at Fifth Avenue, and was put in charge of
Mr. E. H. Johnson, fresh from his successes in England.
The most available men for the purpose were,
of course, those who had been accustomed to wiring
for the simpler electrical systems then in vogue--
telephones, district-messenger calls, burglar alarms,
house annunciators, etc., and a number of these
"wiremen" were engaged and instructed patiently in
the rudiments of the new art by means of a blackboard
and oral lessons. Students from the technical
schools and colleges were also eager recruits, for here
was something that promised a career, and one that was
especially alluring to youth because of its novelty.
These beginners were also instructed in general
engineering problems under the guidance of Mr. C. L.
Clarke, who was brought in from the Menlo Park
laboratory to assume charge of the engineering part
of the company's affairs. Many of these pioneer
students and workmen became afterward large and
successful contractors, or have filled positions of
distinction as managers and superintendents of central
stations. Possibly the electrical industry may not
now attract as much adventurous genius as it did
then, for automobiles, aeronautics, and other new arts
have come to the front in a quarter of a century to
enlist the enthusiasm of a younger generation of
mercurial spirits; but it is certain that at the period
of which we write, Edison himself, still under thirty-
five, was the centre of an extraordinary group of men,
full of effervescing and aspiring talent, to which he
gave glorious opportunity.

A very novel literary feature of the work was the
issuance of a bulletin devoted entirely to the Edison
lighting propaganda. Nowadays the "house organ,"
as it is called, has become a very hackneyed feature
of industrial development, confusing in its variety and
volume, and a somewhat doubtful adjunct to a highly
perfected, widely circulating periodical technical press.
But at that time, 1882, the Bulletin of the Edison
Electric Light Company, published in ordinary 12mo
form, was distinctly new in advertising and possibly
unique, as it is difficult to find anything that compared
with it. The Bulletin was carried on for some
years, until its necessity was removed by the development
of other opportunities for reaching the public;
and its pages serve now as a vivid and lively picture
of the period to which its record applies. The first
issue, of January 12, 1882, was only four pages, but
it dealt with the question of insurance; plants at
Santiago, Chili, and Rio de Janeiro; the European
Company with 3,500,000 francs subscribed; the work
in Paris, London, Strasburg, and Moscow; the laying
of over six miles of street mains in New York; a patent
decision in favor of Edison; and the size of safety
catch wire. By April of 1882, the Bulletin had
attained the respectable size of sixteen pages; and in
December it was a portly magazine of forty-eight.
Every item bears testimony to the rapid progress
being made; and by the end of 1882 it is seen that
no fewer than 153 isolated Edison plants had been
installed in the United States alone, with a capacity
of 29,192 lamps. Moreover, the New York central
station had gone into operation, starting at 3 P.M. on
September 4, and at the close of 1882 it was lighting
225 houses wired for about 5000 lamps. This epochal
story will be told in the next chapter. Most interesting
are the Bulletin notes from England, especially
in regard to the brilliant exhibition given by Mr.
E. H. Johnson at the Crystal Palace, Sydenham,
visited by the Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh, twice
by the Dukes of Westminster and Sutherland, by
three hundred members of the Gas Institute, and by
innumerable delegations from cities, boroughs, etc.
Describing this before the Royal Society of Arts,
Sir W. H. Preece, F.R.S., remarked: "Many unkind
things have been said of Mr. Edison and his promises;
perhaps no one has been severer in this direction than
myself. It is some gratification for me to announce
my belief that he has at last solved the problem he
set himself to solve, and to be able to describe to the
Society the way in which he has solved it." Before
the exhibition closed it was visited by the Prince and
Princess of Wales--now the deceased Edward VII.
and the Dowager Queen Alexandra--and the Princess
received from Mr. Johnson as a souvenir a tiny
electric chandelier fashioned like a bouquet of fern
leaves and flowers, the buds being some of the first
miniature incandescent lamps ever made.

The first item in the first Bulletin dealt with the
"Fire Question," and all through the successive issues
runs a series of significant items on the same subject.
Many of them are aimed at gas, and there are several
grim summaries of death and fires due to gas-
leaks or explosions. A tendency existed at the time
to assume that electricity was altogether safe, while
its opponents, predicating their attacks on arc-lighting
casualties, insisted it was most dangerous. Edison's
problem in educating the public was rather difficult,
for while his low-pressure, direct-current system has
always been absolutely without danger to life, there
has also been the undeniable fact that escaping
electricity might cause a fire just as a leaky water-
pipe can flood a house. The important question had
arisen, therefore, of satisfying the fire underwriters
as to the safety of the system. He had foreseen that
there would be an absolute necessity for special devices
to prevent fires from occurring by reason of
any excess of current flowing in any circuit; and several
of his earliest detail lighting inventions deal with
this subject. The insurance underwriters of New
York and other parts of the country gave a great deal
of time and study to the question through their most
expert representatives, with the aid of Edison and
his associates, other electric-light companies
cooperating; and the knowledge thus gained was
embodied in insurance rules to govern wiring for electric
lights, formulated during the latter part of 1881,
adopted by the New York Board of Fire Underwriters,
January 12, 1882, and subsequently endorsed
by other boards in the various insurance
districts. Under temporary rulings, however, a vast
amount of work had already been done, but it was
obvious that as the industry grew there would be
less and less possibility of supervision except through
such regulations, insisting upon the use of the best
devices and methods. Indeed, the direct superintendence
soon became unnecessary, owing to the increasing
knowledge and greater skill acquired by the
installing staff; and this system of education was
notably improved by a manual written by Mr. Edison
himself. Copies of this brochure are as scarce to-day
as First Folio Shakespeares, and command prices
equal to those of other American first editions. The
little book is the only known incursion of its author
into literature, if we except the brief articles he has
written for technical papers and for the magazines.
It contained what was at once a full, elaborate,
and terse explanation of a complete isolated plant,
with diagrams of various methods of connection and
operation, and a carefully detailed description of
every individual part, its functions and its
characteristics. The remarkable success of those early
years was indeed only achieved by following up with
Chinese exactness the minute and intimate methods
insisted upon by Edison as to the use of the apparatus
and devices employed. It was a curious example of
establishing standard practice while changing with
kaleidoscopic rapidity all the elements involved. He
was true to an ideal as to the pole-star, but was
incessantly making improvements in every direction.
With an iconoclasm that has often seemed ruthless
and brutal he did not hesitate to sacrifice older devices
the moment a new one came in sight that embodied
a real advance in securing effective results. The process
is heroic but costly. Nobody ever had a bigger
scrap-heap than Edison; but who dare proclaim the
process intrinsically wasteful if the losses occur in
the initial stages, and the economies in all the later
ones?

With Edison in this introduction of his lighting
system the method was ruthless, but not reckless.
At an early stage of the commercial development a
standardizing committee was formed, consisting of
the heads of all the departments, and to this body
was intrusted the task of testing and criticising all
existing and proposed devices, as well as of considering
the suggestions and complaints of workmen offered
from time to time. This procedure was fruitful in
two principal results--the education of the whole executive
force in the technical details of the system; and
a constant improvement in the quality of the Edison
installations; both contributing to the rapid growth
of the industry.

For many years Goerck Street played an important
part in Edison's affairs, being the centre of all his
manufacture of heavy machinery. But it was not
in a desirable neighborhood, and owing to the rapid
growth of the business soon became disadvantageous
for other reasons. Edison tells of his frequent visits
to the shops at night, with the escort of "Jim" Russell,
a well-known detective, who knew all the denizens
of the place: "We used to go out at night to a little,
low place, an all-night house--eight feet wide and
twenty-two feet long--where we got a lunch at two or
three o'clock in the morning. It was the toughest kind
of restaurant ever seen. For the clam chowder they
used the same four clams during the whole season,
and the average number of flies per pie was seven.
This was by actual count."

As to the shops and the locality: "The street was
lined with rather old buildings and poor tenements.
We had not much frontage. As our business increased
enormously, our quarters became too small,
so we saw the district Tammany leader and asked
him if we could not store castings and other things
on the sidewalk. He gave us permission--told us
to go ahead, and he would see it was all right. The
only thing he required for this was that when a man
was sent with a note from him asking us to give him
a job, he was to be put on. We had a hand-laborer
foreman--`Big Jim'--a very powerful Irishman, who
could lift above half a ton. When one of the Tammany
aspirants appeared, he was told to go right to
work at $1.50 per day. The next day he was told
off to lift a certain piece, and if the man could not
lift it he was discharged. That made the Tammany
man all safe. Jim could pick the piece up easily.
The other man could not, and so we let him out.
Finally the Tammany leader called a halt, as we were
running big engine lathes out on the sidewalk, and
he was afraid we were carrying it a little too far.
The lathes were worked right out in the street, and
belted through the windows of the shop."

At last it became necessary to move from Goerck
Street, and Mr. Edison gives a very interesting account
of the incidents in connection with the transfer
of the plant to Schenectady, New York: "After our
works at Goerck Street got too small, we had labor
troubles also. It seems I had rather a socialistic
strain in me, and I raised the pay of the workmen
twenty-five cents an hour above the prevailing rate
of wages, whereupon Hoe & Company, our near
neighbors, complained at our doing this. I said I
thought it was all right. But the men, having got
a little more wages, thought they would try coercion
and get a little more, as we were considered soft
marks. Whereupon they struck at a time that was
critical. However, we were short of money for pay-
rolls; and we concluded it might not be so bad after
all, as it would give us a couple of weeks to catch up.
So when the men went out they appointed a committee
to meet us; but for two weeks they could not
find us, so they became somewhat more anxious than
we were. Finally they said they would like to go
back. We said all right, and back they went. It
was quite a novelty to the men not to be able to find
us when they wanted to; and they didn't relish it at
all.

"What with these troubles and the lack of room,
we decided to find a factory elsewhere, and decided
to try the locomotive works up at Schenectady. It
seems that the people there had had a falling out
among themselves, and one of the directors had
started opposition works; but before he had completed
all the buildings and put in machinery some
compromise was made, and the works were for sale.
We bought them very reasonably and moved everything
there. These works were owned by me and
my assistants until sold to the Edison General Electric
Company. At one time we employed several thousand
men; and since then the works have been
greatly expanded.

"At these new works our orders were far in excess
of our capital to handle the business, and both Mr.
Insull and I were afraid we might get into trouble
for lack of money. Mr. Insull was then my business
manager, running the whole thing; and, therefore,
when Mr. Henry Villard and his syndicate offered to
buy us out, we concluded it was better to be sure
than be sorry; so we sold out for a large sum. Villard
was a very aggressive man with big ideas, but I
could never quite understand him. He had no sense
of humor. I remember one time we were going up
on the Hudson River boat to inspect the works, and
with us was Mr. Henderson, our chief engineer, who
was certainly the best raconteur of funny stories I
ever knew. We sat at the tail-end of the boat, and
he started in to tell funny stories. Villard could not
see a single point, and scarcely laughed at all; and
Henderson became so disconcerted he had to give it
up. It was the same way with Gould. In the early
telegraph days I remember going with him to see
Mackay in "The Impecunious Country Editor." It
was very funny, full of amusing and absurd situations;
but Gould never smiled once."

The formation of the Edison General Electric Company
involved the consolidation of the immediate
Edison manufacturing interests in electric light and
power, with a capitalization of $12,000,000, now a
relatively modest sum; but in those days the amount
was large, and the combination caused a great deal
of newspaper comment as to such a coinage of brain
power. The next step came with the creation of the
great General Electric Company of to-day, a combination
of the Edison, Thomson-Houston, and Brush
lighting interests in manufacture, which to this day
maintains the ever-growing plants at Harrison, Lynn,
and Schenectady, and there employs from twenty to
twenty-five thousand people.



CHAPTER XVI

THE FIRST EDISON CENTRAL STATION

A NOTED inventor once said at the end of a lifetime
of fighting to defend his rights, that he
found there were three stages in all great inventions:
the first, in which people said the thing could not
be done; the second, in which they said anybody
could do it; and the third, in which they said it had
always been done by everybody. In his central-
station work Edison has had very much this kind of
experience; for while many of his opponents came to
acknowledge the novelty and utility of his plans, and
gave him unstinted praise, there are doubtless others
who to this day profess to look upon him merely as
an adapter. How different the view of so eminent a
scientist as Lord Kelvin was, may be appreciated
from his remark when in later years, in reply to the
question why some one else did not invent so obvious
and simple a thing as the Feeder System, he said:
"The only answer I can think of is that no one else
was Edison."

Undaunted by the attitude of doubt and the predictions
of impossibility, Edison had pushed on until
he was now able to realize all his ideas as to the establishment
of a central station in the work that culminated
in New York City in 1882. After he had
conceived the broad plan, his ambition was to create
the initial plant on Manhattan Island, where it would
be convenient of access for watching its operation,
and where the demonstration of its practicability
would have influence in financial circles. The first
intention was to cover a district extending from
Canal Street on the north to Wall Street on the south;
but Edison soon realized that this territory was too
extensive for the initial experiment, and he decided
finally upon the district included between Wall,
Nassau, Spruce, and Ferry streets, Peck Slip and the
East River, an area nearly a square mile in extent.
One of the preliminary steps taken to enable him to
figure on such a station and system was to have men
go through this district on various days and note the
number of gas jets burning at each hour up to two or
three o'clock in the morning. The next step was to
divide the region into a number of sub-districts and
institute a house-to-house canvass to ascertain precisely
the data and conditions pertinent to the project.
When the canvass was over, Edison knew exactly
how many gas jets there were in every building in
the entire district, the average hours of burning, and
the cost of light; also every consumer of power, and
the quantity used; every hoistway to which an
electric motor could be applied; and other details too
numerous to mention, such as related to the gas itself,
the satisfaction of the customers, and the limitations
of day and night demand. All this information
was embodied graphically in large maps of the district,
by annotations in colored inks; and Edison thus
could study the question with every detail before
him. Such a reconnaissance, like that of a coming
field of battle, was invaluable, and may help give a
further idea of the man's inveterate care for the
minutiae of things.

The laboratory note-books of this period--1878-
80, more particularly--show an immense amount of
calculation by Edison and his chief mathematician,
Mr. Upton, on conductors for the distribution of current
over large areas, and then later in the district
described. With the results of this canvass before
them, the sizes of the main conductors to be laid
throughout the streets of this entire territory were
figured, block by block; and the results were then
placed on the map. These data revealed the fact
that the quantity of copper required for the main
conductors would be exceedingly large and costly;
and, if ever, Edison was somewhat dismayed. But
as usual this apparently insurmountable difficulty
only spurred him on to further effort. It was but a
short time thereafter that he solved the knotty problem
by an invention mentioned in a previous chapter.
This is known as the "feeder and main" system, for
which he signed the application for a patent on
August 4, 1880. As this invention effected a saving
of seven-eighths of the cost of the chief conductors
in a straight multiple arc system, the mains for the
first district were refigured, and enormous new maps
were made, which became the final basis of actual
installation, as they were subsequently enlarged by
the addition of every proposed junction-box, bridge
safety-catch box, and street-intersection box in the
whole area.

When this patent, after protracted fighting, was
sustained by Judge Green in 1893, the Electrical
Engineer remarked that the General Electric Company
"must certainly feel elated" because of its
importance; and the journal expressed its fear that
although the specifications and claims related only
to the maintenance of uniform pressure of current
on lighting circuits, the owners might naturally seek
to apply it also to feeders used in the electric-railway
work already so extensive. At this time, however,
the patent had only about a year of life left, owing
to the expiration of the corresponding English patent.
The fact that thirteen years had elapsed gives a vivid
idea of the ordeal involved in sustaining a patent and
the injustice to the inventor, while there is obviously
hardship to those who cannot tell from any decision
of the court whether they are infringing or not. It
is interesting to note that the preparation for hearing
this case in New Jersey was accompanied by models
to show the court exactly the method and its economy,
as worked out in comparison with what is known as
the "tree system" of circuits--the older alternative
way of doing it. As a basis of comparison, a district
of thirty-six city blocks in the form of a square was
assumed. The power station was placed at the centre
of the square; each block had sixteen consumers
using fifteen lights each. Conductors were run from
the station to supply each of the four quarters of the
district with light. In one example the "feeder"
system was used; in the other the "tree." With
these models were shown two cubes which represented
one one-hundredth of the actual quantity of
copper required for each quarter of the district by
the two-wire tree system as compared with the feeder
system under like conditions. The total weight
of copper for the four quarter districts by the tree
system was 803,250 pounds, but when the feeder
system was used it was only 128,739 pounds! This
was a reduction from $23.24 per lamp for copper
to $3.72 per lamp. Other models emphasized this
extraordinary contrast. At the time Edison was
doing this work on economizing in conductors, much
of the criticism against him was based on the assumed
extravagant use of copper implied in the obvious
"tree" system, and it was very naturally said
that there was not enough copper in the world to
supply his demands. It is true that the modern
electrical arts have been a great stimulator of copper
production, now taking a quarter of all made; yet
evidently but for such inventions as this such arts
could not have come into existence at all, or else
in growing up they would have forced copper to
starvation prices.[11]


[11] For description of feeder patent see Appendix.


It should be borne in mind that from the outset
Edison had determined upon installing underground
conductors as the only permanent and satisfactory
method for the distribution of current from central
stations in cities; and that at Menlo Park he laid out
and operated such a system with about four hundred
and twenty-five lamps. The underground system
there was limited to the immediate vicinity of the
laboratory and was somewhat crude, as well as much
less complicated than would be the network of over
eighty thousand lineal feet, which he calculated to be
required for the underground circuits in the first
district of New York City. At Menlo Park no effort
was made for permanency; no provision was needed
in regard to occasional openings of the street for
various purposes; no new customers were to be connected
from time to time to the mains, and no repairs
were within contemplation. In New York the question
of permanency was of paramount importance,
and the other contingencies were sure to arise as
well as conditions more easy to imagine than to forestall.
These problems were all attacked in a resolute,
thoroughgoing manner, and one by one solved by
the invention of new and unprecedented devices that
were adequate for the purposes of the time, and which
are embodied in apparatus of slight modification in
use up to the present day.

Just what all this means it is hard for the present
generation to imagine. New York and all the other
great cities in 1882, and for some years thereafter,
were burdened and darkened by hideous masses of
overhead wires carried on ugly wooden poles along
all the main thoroughfares. One after another rival
telegraph and telephone, stock ticker, burglar-alarm,
and other companies had strung their circuits without
any supervision or restriction; and these wires in all
conditions of sag or decay ramified and crisscrossed in
every direction, often hanging broken and loose-ended
for months, there being no official compulsion to
remove any dead wire. None of these circuits carried
dangerous currents; but the introduction of the arc
light brought an entirely new menace in the use of
pressures that were even worse than the bully of the
West who "kills on sight," because this kindred peril
was invisible, and might lurk anywhere. New poles
were put up, and the lighting circuits on them, with
but a slight insulation of cotton impregnated with
some "weather-proof" compound, straggled all over
the city exposed to wind and rain and accidental
contact with other wires, or with the metal of buildings.
So many fatalities occurred that the insulated
wire used, called "underwriters," because approved
by the insurance bodies, became jocularly known as
"undertakers," and efforts were made to improve its
protective qualities. Then came the overhead circuits
for distributing electrical energy to motors for
operating elevators, driving machinery, etc., and
these, while using a lower, safer potential, were
proportionately larger. There were no wires underground.
Morse had tried that at the very beginning of electrical
application, in telegraphy, and all agreed that
renewals of the experiment were at once costly and
foolish. At last, in cities like New York, what may
be styled generically the "overhead system" of wires
broke down under its own weight; and various
methods of underground conductors were tried, hastened
in many places by the chopping down of poles
and wires as the result of some accident that stirred
the public indignation. One typical tragic scene was
that in New York, where, within sight of the City
Hall, a lineman was killed at his work on the arc
light pole, and his body slowly roasted before the gaze
of the excited populace, which for days afterward
dropped its silver and copper coin into the alms-box
nailed to the fatal pole for the benefit of his family.
Out of all this in New York came a board of electrical
control, a conduit system, and in the final analysis
the Public Service Commission, that is credited to
Governor Hughes as the furthest development of
utility corporation control.

The "road to yesterday" back to Edison and his
insistence on underground wires is a long one, but
the preceding paragraph traces it. Even admitting
that the size and weight of his low-tension conductors
necessitated putting them underground, this argues
nothing against the propriety and sanity of his
methods. He believed deeply and firmly in the
analogy between electrical supply and that for water
and gas, and pointed to the trite fact that nobody
hoisted the water and gas mains into the air on stilts,
and that none of the pressures were inimical to human
safety. The arc-lighting methods were unconsciously
and unwittingly prophetic of the latter-day
long-distance transmissions at high pressure that,
electrically, have placed the energy of Niagara at
the command of Syracuse and Utica, and have put
the power of the falling waters of the Sierras at the
disposal of San Francisco, two hundred miles away.
But within city limits overhead wires, with such
space-consuming potentials, are as fraught with
mischievous peril to the public as the dynamite stored
by a nonchalant contractor in the cellar of a schoolhouse.
As an offset, then, to any tendency to depreciate
the intrinsic value of Edison's lighting work,
let the claim be here set forth modestly and subject
to interference, that he was the father of under-
ground wires in America, and by his example outlined
the policy now dominant in every city of the
first rank. Even the comment of a cynic in regard
to electrical development may be accepted: "Some
electrical companies wanted all the air; others apparently
had use for all the water; Edison only asked
for the earth."

The late Jacob Hess, a famous New York Republican
politician, was a member of the commission
appointed to put the wires underground in New York
City, in the "eighties." He stated that when the
commission was struggling with the problem, and
examining all kinds of devices and plans, patented
and unpatented, for which fabulous sums were often
asked, the body turned to Edison in its perplexity
and asked for advice. Edison said: "All you have
to do, gentlemen, is to insulate your wires, draw them
through the cheapest thing on earth--iron pipe--run
your pipes through channels or galleries under the
street, and you've got the whole thing done." This
was practically the system adopted and in use to
this day. What puzzled the old politician was that
Edison would accept nothing for his advice.

Another story may also be interpolated here as to
the underground work done in New York for the first
Edison station. It refers to the "man higher up,"
although the phrase had not been coined in those days
of lower public morality. That a corporation should
be "held up" was accepted philosophically by the
corporation as one of the unavoidable incidents of its
business; and if the corporation "got back" by securing
some privilege without paying for it, the public
was ready to condone if not applaud. Public utilities
were in the making, and no one in particular had a
keen sense of what was right or what was wrong, in
the hard, practical details of their development. Edison
tells this illuminating story: "When I was laying
tubes in the streets of New York, the office received
notice from the Commissioner of Public Works to
appear at his office at a certain hour. I went up
there with a gentleman to see the Commissioner,
H. O. Thompson. On arrival he said to me: `You
are putting down these tubes. The Department of
Public Works requires that you should have five inspectors
to look after this work, and that their salary
shall be $5 per day, payable at the end of each week.
Good-morning.' I went out very much crestfallen,
thinking I would be delayed and harassed in the work
which I was anxious to finish, and was doing night
and day. We watched patiently for those inspectors
to appear. The only appearance they made was to
draw their pay Saturday afternoon."

Just before Christmas in 1880--December 17--as
an item for the silk stocking of Father Knickerbocker
--the Edison Electric Illuminating Company of New
York was organized. In pursuance of the policy adhered
to by Edison, a license was issued to it for the
exclusive use of the system in that territory--Manhattan
Island--in consideration of a certain sum of
money and a fixed percentage of its capital in stock
for the patent rights. Early in 1881 it was altogether
a paper enterprise, but events moved swiftly as narrated
already, and on June 25, 1881, the first "Jumbo"
prototype of the dynamo-electric machines to gen-
erate current at the Pearl Street station was put
through its paces before being shipped to Paris to
furnish new sensations to the flaneur of the boulevards.
A number of the Edison officers and employees
assembled at Goerck Street to see this "gigantic"
machine go into action, and watched its performance
with due reverence all through the night until five
o'clock on Sunday morning, when it respected the
conventionalities by breaking a shaft and suspending
further tests. After this dynamo was shipped
to France, and its successors to England for the Holborn
Viaduct plant, Edison made still further improvements
in design, increasing capacity and economy,
and then proceeded vigorously with six machines for
Pearl Street.

An ideal location for any central station is at the
very centre of the district served. It may be questioned
whether it often goes there. In the New York
first district the nearest property available was a
double building at Nos. 255 and 257 Pearl Street,
occupying a lot so by 100 feet. It was four stories
high, with a fire-wall dividing it into two equal parts.
One of these parts was converted for the uses of the
station proper, and the other was used as a tube-shop
by the underground construction department, as well
as for repair-shops, storage, etc. Those were the days
when no one built a new edifice for station purposes;
that would have been deemed a fantastic extravagance.
One early station in New York for arc lighting
was an old soap-works whose well-soaked floors did
not need much additional grease to render them
choice fuel for the inevitable flames. In this Pearl
Street instance, the building, erected originally for
commercial uses, was quite incapable of sustaining
the weight of the heavy dynamos and steam-engines
to be installed on the second floor; so the old flooring
was torn out and a new one of heavy girders supported
by stiff columns was substituted. This heavy construction,
more familiar nowadays, and not unlike
the supporting metal structure of the Manhattan
Elevated road, was erected independent of the enclosing
walls, and occupied the full width of 257 Pearl
Street, and about three-quarters of its depth. This
change in the internal arrangements did not at all
affect the ugly external appearance, which did little to
suggest the stately and ornate stations since put up
by the New York Edison Company, the latest occupying
whole city blocks.

Of this episode Edison gives the following account:
"While planning for my first New York station--
Pearl Street--of course, I had no real estate, and
from lack of experience had very little knowledge of
its cost in New York; so I assumed a rather large,
liberal amount of it to plan my station on. It
occurred to me one day that before I went too far with
my plans I had better find out what real estate was
worth. In my original plan I had 200 by 200 feet.
I thought that by going down on a slum street near
the water-front I would get some pretty cheap property.
So I picked out the worst dilapidated street
there was, and found I could only get two buildings,
each 25 feet front, one 100 feet deep and the other
85 feet deep. I thought about $10,000 each would
cover it; but when I got the price I found that they
wanted $75,000 for one and $80,000 for the other.
Then I was compelled to change my plans and go upward
in the air where real estate was cheap. I
cleared out the building entirely to the walls and
built my station of structural ironwork, running it
up high."

Into this converted structure was put the most
complete steam plant obtainable, together with all
the mechanical and engineering adjuncts bearing
upon economical and successful operation. Being in
a narrow street and a congested district, the plant
needed special facilities for the handling of coal and
ashes, as well as for ventilation and forced draught.
All of these details received Mr. Edison's personal
care and consideration on the spot, in addition to the
multitude of other affairs demanding his thought.
Although not a steam or mechanical engineer, his
quick grasp of principles and omnivorous reading had
soon supplied the lack of training; nor had he forgotten
the practical experience picked up as a boy
on the locomotives of the Grand Trunk road. It is
to be noticed as a feature of the plant, in common
with many of later construction, that it was placed
well away from the water's edge, and equipped with
non-condensing engines; whereas the modern plant
invariably seeks the bank of a river or lake for the
purpose of a generous supply of water for its
condensing engines or steam-turbines. These are among
the refinements of practice coincidental with the advance
of the art.

At the award of the John Fritz gold medal in April,
1909, to Charles T. Porter for his work in advancing
the knowledge of steam-engineering, and for improvements
in engine construction, Mr. Frank J. Sprague
spoke on behalf of the American Institute of Electrical
Engineers of the debt of electricity to the high-speed
steam-engine. He recalled the fact that at the
French Exposition of 1867 Mr. Porter installed two
Porter-Allen engines to drive electric alternating-current
generators for supplying current to primitive
lighthouse apparatus. While the engines were not
directly coupled to the dynamos, it was a curious
fact that the piston speeds and number of revolutions
were what is common to-day in isolated direct-coupled
plants. In the dozen years following Mr. Porter built
many engines with certain common characteristics--
i.e., high piston speed and revolutions, solid engine
bed, and babbitt-metal bearings; but there was no
electric driving until 1880, when Mr. Porter installed
a high-speed engine for Edison at his laboratory in
Menlo Park. Shortly after this he was invited to
construct for the Edison Pearl Street station the first
of a series of engines for so-called "steam-dynamos,"
each independently driven by a direct-coupled engine.
Mr. Sprague compared the relations thus established
between electricity and the high-speed engine not to
those of debtor and creditor, but rather to those of
partners--an industrial marriage--one of the most
important in the engineering world. Here were two
machines destined to be joined together, economizing
space, enhancing economy, augmenting capacity, reducing
investment, and increasing dividends.

While rapid progress was being made in this and
other directions, the wheels of industry were hum-
ming merrily at the Edison Tube Works, for over
fifteen miles of tube conductors were required for the
district, besides the boxes to connect the network at
the street intersections, and the hundreds of junction
boxes for taking the service conductors into each of
the hundreds of buildings. In addition to the
immense amount of money involved, this specialized
industry required an enormous amount of experiment,
as it called for the development of an entirely
new art. But with Edison's inventive fertility--if
ever there was a cross-fertilizer of mechanical ideas
it is he--and with Mr. Kruesi's never-failing patience
and perseverance applied to experiment and evolution,
rapid progress was made. A franchise having
been obtained from the city, the work of laying the
underground conductors began in the late fall of
1881, and was pushed with almost frantic energy. It
is not to be supposed, however, that the Edison tube
system had then reached a finality of perfection in
the eyes of its inventor. In his correspondence with
Kruesi, as late as 1887, we find Edison bewailing the
inadequacy of the insulation of the conductors under
twelve hundred volts pressure, as for example:
"Dear Kruesi,--There is nothing wrong with your
present compound. It is splendid. The whole
trouble is air-bubbles. The hotter it is poured the
greater the amount of air-bubbles. At 212 it can
be put on rods and there is no bubble. I have a man
experimenting and testing all the time. Until I get
at the proper method of pouring and getting rid of
the air-bubbles, it will be waste of time to experiment
with other asphalts. Resin oil distils off easily. It
may answer, but paraffine or other similar substances
must be put in to prevent brittleness, One thing is
certain, and that is, everything must be poured in
layers, not only the boxes, but the tubes. The tube
itself should have a thin coating. The rope should
also have a coating. The rods also. The whole lot,
rods and rope, when ready for tube, should have
another coat, and then be placed in tube and filled.
This will do the business." Broad and large as a
continent in his ideas, if ever there was a man of
finical fussiness in attention to detail, it is Edison.
A letter of seven pages of about the same date in
1887 expatiates on the vicious troubles caused by the
air-bubble, and remarks with fine insight into the
problems of insulation and the idea of layers of it:
"Thus you have three separate coatings, and it is
impossible an air-hole in one should match the
other."

To a man less thorough and empirical in method
than Edison, it would have been sufficient to have
made his plans clear to associates or subordinates
and hold them responsible for accurate results. No
such vicarious treatment would suit him, ready as he
has always been to share the work where he could
give his trust. In fact he realized, as no one else
did at this stage, the tremendous import of this
novel and comprehensive scheme for giving the world
light; and he would not let go, even if busy to the
breaking-point. Though plunged in a veritable maelstrom
of new and important business interests, and
though applying for no fewer than eighty-nine patents
in 1881, all of which were granted, he superintended
on the spot all this laying of underground conductors
for the first district. Nor did he merely stand around
and give orders. Day and night he actually worked
in the trenches with the laborers, amid the dirt and
paving-stones and hurry-burly of traffic, helping to
lay the tubes, filling up junction-boxes, and taking
part in all the infinite detail. He wanted to know
for himself how things went, why for some occult
reason a little change was necessary, what improvement
could be made in the material. His hours of
work were not regulated by the clock, but lasted until
he felt the need of a little rest. Then he would go
off to the station building in Pearl Street, throw an
overcoat on a pile of tubes, lie down and sleep for a
few hours, rising to resume work with the first gang.
There was a small bedroom on the third floor of the
station available for him, but going to bed meant
delay and consumed time. It is no wonder that
such impatience, such an enthusiasm, drove the work
forward at a headlong pace.

Edison says of this period: "When we put down
the tubes in the lower part of New York, in the
streets, we kept a big stock of them in the cellar of
the station at Pearl Street. As I was on all the time,
I would take a nap of an hour or so in the daytime--
any time--and I used to sleep on those tubes in the
cellar. I had two Germans who were testing there,
and both of them died of diphtheria, caught in the
cellar, which was cold and damp. It never affected
me."

It is worth pausing just a moment to glance at this
man taking a fitful rest on a pile of iron pipe in a
dingy building. His name is on the tip of the world's
tongue. Distinguished scientists from every part of
Europe seek him eagerly. He has just been decorated
and awarded high honors by the French Government.
He is the inventor of wonderful new apparatus, and
the exploiter of novel and successful arts. The magic
of his achievements and the rumors of what is being
done have caused a wild drop in gas securities, and a
sensational rise in his own electric-light stock from
$100 to $3500 a share. Yet these things do not at
all affect his slumber or his democratic simplicity,
for in that, as in everything else, he is attending
strictly to business, "doing the thing that is next
to him."

Part of the rush and feverish haste was due to the
approach of frost, which, as usual in New York, suspended
operations in the earth; but the laying of
the conductors was resumed promptly in the spring
of 1882; and meantime other work had been advanced.
During the fall and winter months two
more "Jumbo" dynamos were built and sent to
London, after which the construction of six for New
York was swiftly taken in hand. In the month of
May three of these machines, each with a capacity of
twelve hundred incandescent lamps, were delivered
at Pearl Street and assembled on the second floor.
On July 5th--owing to the better opportunity for
ceaseless toil given by a public holiday--the construction
of the operative part of the station was so
far completed that the first of the dynamos was
operated under steam; so that three days later the
satisfactory experiment was made of throwing its
flood of electrical energy into a bank of one thousand
lamps on an upper floor. Other tests followed in due
course. All was excitement. The field-regulating
apparatus and the electrical-pressure indicator--first
of its kind--were also tested, and in turn found
satisfactory. Another vital test was made at this time--
namely, of the strength of the iron structure itself
on which the plant was erected. This was done by
two structural experts; and not till he got their report
as to ample factors of safety was Edison reassured
as to this detail.

A remark of Edison, familiar to all who have
worked with him, when it is reported to him that
something new goes all right and is satisfactory from
all points of view, is: "Well, boys, now let's find the
bugs," and the hunt for the phylloxera begins with
fiendish, remorseless zest. Before starting the plant
for regular commercial service, he began personally
a series of practical experiments and tests to ascertain
in advance what difficulties would actually
arise in practice, so that he could provide remedies
or preventives. He had several cots placed in the
adjoining building, and he and a few of his most
strenuous assistants worked day and night, leaving
the work only for hurried meals and a snatch of
sleep. These crucial tests, aiming virtually to break
the plant down if possible within predetermined
conditions, lasted several weeks, and while most valuable
in the information they afforded, did not hinder
anything, for meantime customers' premises throughout
the district were being wired and supplied with lamps
and meters.

On Monday, September 4, 1882, at 3 o'clock, P.M.,
Edison realized the consummation of his broad and
original scheme. The Pearl Street station was officially
started by admitting steam to the engine of one of
the "Jumbos," current was generated, turned into
the network of underground conductors, and was
transformed into light by the incandescent lamps that
had thus far been installed. This date and event
may properly be regarded as historical, for they mark
the practical beginning of a new art, which in the
intervening years has grown prodigiously, and is still
increasing by leaps and bounds.

Everything worked satisfactorily in the main.
There were a few mechanical and engineering annoyances
that might naturally be expected to arise in a
new and unprecedented enterprise; but nothing of
sufficient moment to interfere with the steady and
continuous supply of current to customers at all
hours of the day and night. Indeed, once started,
this station was operated uninterruptedly for eight
years with only insignificant stoppage.

It will have been noted by the reader that there
was nothing to indicate rashness in starting up the
station, as only one dynamo was put in operation.
Within a short time, however, it was deemed desirable
to supply the underground network with more current,
as many additional customers had been connected
and the demand for the new light was increasing
very rapidly. Although Edison had successfully
operated several dynamos in multiple arc two
years before--i.e., all feeding current together into
the same circuits--there was not, at this early period
of experience, any absolute certainty as to what
particular results might occur upon the throwing of
the current from two or more such massive dynamos
into a great distributing system. The sequel showed
the value of Edison's cautious method in starting the
station by operating only a single unit at first.

He decided that it would be wise to make the trial
operation of a second "Jumbo" on a Sunday, when
business houses were closed in the district, thus
obviating any danger of false impressions in the public
mind in the event of any extraordinary manifestations.
The circumstances attending the adding of
a second dynamo are thus humorously described by
Edison: "My heart was in my mouth at first, but
everything worked all right.... Then we started another
engine and threw them in parallel. Of all the
circuses since Adam was born, we had the worst
then! One engine would stop, and the other would
run up to about a thousand revolutions, and then
they would see-saw. The trouble was with the governors.
When the circus commenced, the gang that
was standing around ran out precipitately, and I
guess some of them kept running for a block or two.
I grabbed the throttle of one engine, and E. H. Johnson,
who was the only one present to keep his wits,
caught hold of the other, and we shut them off."
One of the "gang" that ran, but, in this case, only to
the end of the room, afterward said: "At the time it
was a terrifying experience, as I didn't know what
was going to happen. The engines and dynamos
made a horrible racket, from loud and deep groans
to a hideous shriek, and the place seemed to be filled
with sparks and flames of all colors. It was as if the
gates of the infernal regions had been suddenly
opened."

This trouble was at once attacked by Edison in his
characteristic and strenuous way. The above experiment
took place between three and four o'clock on
a Sunday afternoon, and within a few hours he had
gathered his superintendent and men of the machine-
works and had them at work on a shafting device
that he thought would remedy the trouble. He says:
"Of course, I discovered that what had happened
was that one set was running the other as a motor.
I then put up a long shaft, connecting all the governors
together, and thought this would certainly
cure the trouble; but it didn't. The torsion of the
shaft was so great that one governor still managed
to get ahead of the others. Well, it was a serious
state of things, and I worried over it a lot. Finally
I went down to Goerck Street and got a piece of
shafting and a tube in which it fitted. I twisted the
shafting one way and the tube the other as far as I
could, and pinned them together. In this way, by
straining the whole outfit up to its elastic limit in
opposite directions, the torsion was practically
eliminated, and after that the governors ran together
all right."

Edison realized, however, that in commercial practice
this was only a temporary expedient, and that a
satisfactory permanence of results could only be
attained with more perfect engines that could be
depended upon for close and simple regulation. The
engines that were made part of the first three "Jum-
bos" placed in the station were the very best that
could be obtained at the time, and even then had
been specially designed and built for the purpose.
Once more quoting Edison on this subject: "About
that time" (when he was trying to run several dynamos
in parallel in the Pearl Street station) "I got
hold of Gardiner C. Sims, and he undertook to build
an engine to run at three hundred and fifty revolutions
and give one hundred and seventy-five horse-power.
He went back to Providence and set to work, and
brought the engine back with him to the shop. It
worked only a few minutes when it busted. That
man sat around that shop and slept in it for three
weeks, until he got his engine right and made it work
the way he wanted it to. When he reached this
period I gave orders for the engine-works to run night
and day until we got enough engines, and when all
was ready we started the engines. Then everything
worked all right.... One of these engines that Sims
built ran twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and
sixty-five days in the year, for over a year before it
stopped."[12]


[12] We quote the following interesting notes of Mr. Charles L.
Clarke on the question of see-sawing, or "hunting," as it was
afterward termed:


"In the Holborn Viaduct station the difficulty of `hunting'
was not experienced. At the time the `Jumbos' were first operated
in multiple arc, April 8, 1882, one machine was driven by
a Porter-Allen engine, and the other by an Armington & Sims engine,
and both machines were on a solid foundation. At the station
at Milan, Italy, the first `Jumbos' operated in multiple arc were
driven by Porter-Allen engines, and dash-pots were applied to the
governors. These machines were also upon a solid foundation,
and no trouble was experienced.

"At the Pearl Street station, however, the machines were sup-
ported upon long iron floor-beams, and at the high speed of 350
revolutions per minute, considerable vertical vibration was given
to the engines. And the writer is inclined to the opinion that
this vibration, acting in the same direction as the action of gravitation,
which was one of the two controlling forces in the operation
of the Porter-Allen governor, was the primary cause of the
`hunting.' In the Armington & Sims engine the controlling
forces in the operation of the governor were the centrifugal force
of revolving weights, and the opposing force of compressed springs,
and neither the action of gravitation nor the vertical vibrations
of the engine could have any sensible effect upon the governor,"




The Pearl Street station, as this first large plant
was called, made rapid and continuous growth in its
output of electric current. It started, as we have
said, on September 4, 1882, supplying about four
hundred lights to a comparatively small number of
customers. Among those first supplied was the banking
firm of Drexel, Morgan & Company, corner of
Broad and Wall streets, at the outermost limits of the
system. Before the end of December of the same year
the light had so grown in favor that it was being
supplied to over two hundred and forty customers
whose buildings were wired for over five thousand
lamps. By this time three more "Jumbos" had been
added to the plant. The output from this time forward
increased steadily up to the spring of 1884, when the
demands of the station necessitated the installation of
two additional "Jumbos" in the adjoining building,
which, with the venous improvements that had been
made in the mean time, gave the station a capacity of
over eleven thousand lamps actually in service at
any one time.

During the first three months of operating the Pearl
Street station light was supplied to customers with-
out charge. Edison had perfect confidence in his
meters, and also in the ultimate judgment of the public
as to the superiority of the incandescent electric
light as against other illuminants. He realized, however,
that in the beginning of the operation of an entirely
novel plant there was ample opportunity for
unexpected contingencies, although the greatest care
had been exercised to make everything as perfect as
possible. Mechanical defects or other unforeseen
troubles in any part of the plant or underground
system might arise and cause temporary stoppages of
operation, thus giving grounds for uncertainty which
would create a feeling of public distrust in the permanence
of the supply of light.

As to the kind of mishap that was wont to occur,
Edison tells the following story: "One afternoon,
after our Pearl Street station started, a policeman
rushed in and told us to send an electrician at once
up to the corner of Ann and Nassau streets--some
trouble. Another man and I went up. We found
an immense crowd of men and boys there and in the
adjoining streets--a perfect jam. There was a leak
in one of our junction-boxes, and on account of the
cellars extending under the street, the top soil had
become insulated. Hence, by means of this leak
powerful currents were passing through this thin
layer of moist earth. When a horse went to pass
over it he would get a very severe shock. When I
arrived I saw coming along the street a ragman with
a dilapidated old horse, and one of the boys told him
to go over on the other side of the road--which was
the place where the current leaked. When the rag-
man heard this he took that side at once. The moment
the horse struck the electrified soil he stood
straight up in the air, and then reared again; and the
crowd yelled, the policeman yelled; and the horse
started to run away. This continued until the crowd
got so serious that the policeman had to clear it out;
and we were notified to cut the current off. We got
a gang of men, cut the current off for several junction-
boxes, and fixed the leak. One man who had seen it
came to me next day and wanted me to put in apparatus
for him at a place where they sold horses. He said
he could make a fortune with it, because he could get old
nags in there and make them act like thoroughbreds."

So well had the work been planned and executed,
however, that nothing happened to hinder the continuous
working of the station and the supply of light
to customers. Hence it was decided in December,
1882, to begin charging a price for the service, and,
accordingly, Edison electrolytic meters were installed
on the premises of each customer then connected.
The first bill for lighting, based upon the
reading of one of these meters, amounted to $50.40,
and was collected on January 18, 1883, from the Ansonia
Brass and Copper Company, 17 and 19 Cliff
Street. Generally speaking, customers found that
their bills compared fairly with gas bills for
corresponding months where the same amount of light was
used, and they paid promptly and cheerfully, with
emphatic encomiums of the new light. During November,
1883, a little over one year after the station
was started, bills for lighting amounting to over $9000
were collected.

An interesting story of meter experience in the first
few months of operation of the Pearl Street station
is told by one of the "boys" who was then in position
to know the facts; "Mr. J. P. Morgan, whose firm was
one of the first customers, expressed to Mr. Edison
some doubt as to the accuracy of the meter. The
latter, firmly convinced of its correctness, suggested
a strict test by having some cards printed and hung
on each fixture at Mr. Morgan's place. On these
cards was to be noted the number of lamps in the
fixture, and the time they were turned on and off
each day for a month. At the end of that time the
lamp-hours were to be added together by one of the
clerks and figured on a basis of a definite amount per
lamp-hour, and compared with the bill that would be
rendered by the station for the corresponding period.
The results of the first month's test showed an apparent
overcharge by the Edison company. Mr. Morgan
was exultant, while Mr. Edison was still confident
and suggested a continuation of the test.
Another month's trial showed somewhat similar results.
Mr. Edison was a little disturbed, but insisted
that there was a mistake somewhere. He went down
to Drexel, Morgan & Company's office to investigate,
and, after looking around, asked when the office was
cleaned out. He was told it was done at night by
the janitor, who was sent for, and upon being interrogated
as to what light he used, said that he turned
on a central fixture containing about ten lights. It
came out that he had made no record of the time these
lights were in use. He was told to do so in future,
and another month's test was made. On comparison
with the company's bill, rendered on the meter-reading,
the meter came within a few cents of the amount
computed from the card records, and Mr. Morgan was
completely satisfied of the accuracy of the meter."

It is a strange but not extraordinary commentary
on the perversity of human nature and the lack of
correct observation, to note that even after the Pearl
Street station had been in actual operation twenty-
four hours a day for nearly three months, there
should still remain an attitude of "can't be done."
That such a scepticism still obtained is evidenced by
the public prints of the period. Edison's electric-
light system and his broad claims were freely discussed
and animadverted upon at the very time he
was demonstrating their successful application. To
show some of the feeling at the time, we reproduce
the following letter, which appeared November 29,
1882:

"To the Editor of the Sun:

"SIR,--In reading the discussions relative to the Pearl
Street station of the Edison light, I have noted that
while it is claimed that there is scarcely any loss from
leakage of current, nothing is said about the loss due to
the resistance of the long circuits. I am informed that
this is the secret of the failure to produce with the power
in position a sufficient amount of current to run all the
lamps that have been put up, and that while six, and
even seven, lights to the horse-power may be produced
from an isolated plant, the resistance of the long underground
wires reduces this result in the above case to less
than three lights to the horse-power, thus making the
cost of production greatly in excess of gas. Can the
Edison company explain this?
                                       "INVESTIGATOR."

This was one of the many anonymous letters that
had been written to the newspapers on the subject,
and the following reply by the Edison company was
printed December 3, 1882:


"To the Editor of the Sun:

"SIR,--`Investigator' in Wednesday's Sun, says that
the Edison company is troubled at its Pearl Street station
with a `loss of current, due to the resistance of the long
circuits'; also that, whereas Edison gets `six or even
seven lights to the horse-power in isolated plants, the
resistance of the long underground wires reduces that
result in the Pearl Street station to less than three lights
to the horse-power.' Both of these statements are false.
As regards loss due to resistance, there is a well-known
law for determining it, based on Ohm's law. By use of
that law we knew in advance, that is to say, when the
original plans for the station were drawn, just what this
loss would be, precisely the same as a mechanical engineer
when constructing a mill with long lines of shafting
can forecast the loss of power due to friction. The
practical result in the Pearl Street station has fully
demonstrated the correctness of our estimate thus made
in advance. As regards our getting only three lights
per horse-power, our station has now been running three
months, without stopping a moment, day or night, and
we invariably get over six lamps per horse-power, or
substantially the same as we do in our isolated plants.
We are now lighting one hundred and ninety-three buildings,
wired for forty-four hundred lamps, of which about
two-thirds are in constant use, and we are adding
additional houses and lamps daily. These figures can be
verified at the office of the Board of Underwriters, where
certificates with full details permitting the use of our
light are filed by their own inspector. To light these
lamps we run from one to three dynamos, according to
the lamps in use at any given time, and we shall start
additional dynamos as fast as we can connect more buildings.
Neither as regards the loss due to resistance, nor
as regards the number of lamps per horse-power, is there
the slightest trouble or disappointment on the part of
our company, and your correspondent is entirely in error
is assuming that there is. Let me suggest that if `Investigator'
really wishes to investigate, and is competent
and willing to learn the exact facts, he can do
so at this office, where there is no mystery of concealment,
but, on the contrary, a strong desire to communicate
facts to intelligent inquirers. Such a method of
investigating must certainly be more satisfactory to one
honestly seeking knowledge than that of first assuming
an error as the basis of a question, and then demanding
an explanation.
                             "Yours very truly,
                                       "S. B. EATON, President."


Viewed from the standpoint of over twenty-seven
years later, the wisdom and necessity of answering
anonymous newspaper letters of this kind might be
deemed questionable, but it must be remembered that,
although the Pearl Street station was working
successfully, and Edison's comprehensive plans were
abundantly vindicated, the enterprise was absolutely
new and only just stepping on the very threshold of
commercial exploitation. To enter in and possess
the land required the confidence of capital and the
general public. Hence it was necessary to maintain
a constant vigilance to defeat the insidious attacks of
carping critics and others who would attempt to
injure the Edison system by misleading statements.

It will be interesting to the modern electrician to
note that when this pioneer station was started, and
in fact for some little time afterward, there was not
a single electrical instrument in the whole station--
not a voltmeter or an ammeter! Nor was there a
central switchboard! Each dynamo had its own individual
control switch. The feeder connections were
all at the front of the building, and the general voltage
control apparatus was on the floor above. An
automatic pressure indicator had been devised and
put in connection with the main circuits. It consisted,
generally speaking, of an electromagnet with
relays connecting with a red and a blue lamp. When
the electrical pressure was normal, neither lamp was
lighted; but if the electromotive force rose above a
predetermined amount by one or two volts, the red
lamp lighted up, and the attendant at the hand-wheel
of the field regulator inserted resistance in the field
circuit, whereas, if the blue lamp lighted, resistance
was cut out until the pressure was raised to normal.
Later on this primitive indicator was supplanted by
the "Bradley Bridge," a crude form of the "Howell"
pressure indicators, which were subsequently used
for many years in the Edison stations.

Much could be added to make a complete pictorial
description of the historic Pearl Street station, but
it is not within the scope of this narrative to enter
into diffuse technical details, interesting as they may
be to many persons. We cannot close this chapter,
however, without mention of the fate of the Pearl
Street station, which continued in successful commercial
operation until January 2, 1890, when it was
partially destroyed by fire. All the "Jumbos" were
ruined, excepting No. 9, which is still a venerated
relic in the possession of the New York Edison Company.
Luckily, the boilers were unharmed. Belt-
driven generators and engines were speedily installed,
and the station was again in operation in a few days.
The uninjured "Jumbo," No. 9, again continued to
perform its duty. But in the words of Mr. Charles L.
Clarke, "the glory of the old Pearl Street station,
unique in bearing the impress of Mr. Edison's personality,
and, as it were, constructed with his own
hands, disappeared in the flame and smoke of that
Thursday morning fire."

The few days' interruption of the service was the
only serious one that has taken place in the history
of the New York Edison Company from September 4,
1882, to the present date. The Pearl Street station
was operated for some time subsequent to the fire,
but increasing demands in the mean time having led
to the construction of other stations, the mains of
the First District were soon afterward connected to
another plant, the Pearl Street station was dismantled,
and the building was sold in 1895.

The prophetic insight into the magnitude of central-
station lighting that Edison had when he was still
experimenting on the incandescent lamp over thirty
years ago is a little less than astounding, when it is
so amply verified in the operations of the New York
Edison Company (the successor of the Edison Electric
Illuminating Company of New York) and many others.
At the end of 1909 the New York Edison Company
alone was operating twenty-eight stations and substations,
having a total capacity of 159,500 kilowatts.
Connected with its lines were approximately 85,000
customers wired for 3,813,899 incandescent lamps and
nearly 225,000 horse-power through industrial electric
motors connected with the underground service.
A large quantity of electrical energy is also supplied
for heating and cooking, charging automobiles, chemical
and plating work, and various other uses.



CHAPTER XVII

OTHER EARLY STATIONS--THE METER

WE have now seen the Edison lighting system
given a complete, convincing demonstration in
Paris, London, and New York; and have noted steps
taken for its introduction elsewhere on both sides
of the Atlantic. The Paris plant, like that at the
Crystal Palace, was a temporary exhibit. The London
plant was less temporary, but not permanent,
supplying before it was torn out no fewer than
three thousand lamps in hotels, churches, stores, and
dwellings in the vicinity of Holborn Viaduct. There
Messrs. Johnson and Hammer put into practice many
of the ideas now standard in the art, and secured
much useful data for the work in New York, of
which the story has just been told.

As a matter of fact the first Edison commercial
station to be operated in this country was that at
Appleton, Wisconsin, but its only serious claim to
notice is that it was the initial one of the system
driven by water-power. It went into service August
15, 1882, about three weeks before the Pearl Street
station. It consisted of one small dynamo of a
capacity of two hundred and eighty lights of 10 c.p.
each, and was housed in an unpretentious wooden
shed. The dynamo-electric machine, though small,
was robust, for under all the varying speeds of water-
power, and the vicissitudes of the plant to which it,
belonged, it continued in active use until 1899--
seventeen years.

Edison was from the first deeply impressed with
the possibilities of water-power, and, as this incident
shows, was prompt to seize such a very early opportunity.
But his attention was in reality concentrated
closely on the supply of great centres of population,
a task which he then felt might well occupy his lifetime;
and except in regard to furnishing isolated
plants he did not pursue further the development of
hydro-electric stations. That was left to others, and
to the application of the alternating current, which
has enabled engineers to harness remote powers, and,
within thoroughly economical limits, transmit thousands
of horse-power as much as two hundred miles at
pressures of 80,000 and 100,000 volts. Owing to his
insistence on low pressure, direct current for use in
densely populated districts, as the only safe and truly
universal, profitable way of delivering electrical
energy to the consumers, Edison has been frequently
spoken of as an opponent of the alternating current.
This does him an injustice. At the time a measure
was before the Virginia legislature, in 1890, to limit
the permissible pressures of current so as to render
it safe, he said: "You want to allow high pressure
wherever the conditions are such that by no possible
accident could that pressure get into the houses of
the consumers; you want to give them all the latitude
you can." In explaining this he added: "Suppose
you want to take the falls down at Richmond,
and want to put up a water-power? Why, if we
erect a station at the falls, it is a great economy to
get it up to the city. By digging a cheap trench and
putting in an insulated cable, and connecting such
station with the central part of Richmond, having
the end of the cable come up into the station from
the earth and there connected with motors, the power
of the falls would be transmitted to these motors.
If now the motors were made to run dynamos conveying
low-pressure currents to the public, there is
no possible way whereby this high-pressure current
could get to the public." In other words, Edison
made the sharp fundamental distinction between high
pressure alternating current for transmission and low
pressure direct current for distribution; and this is
exactly the practice that has been adopted in all the
great cities of the country to-day. There seems no
good reason for believing that it will change. It
might perhaps have been altogether better for Edison,
from the financial standpoint, if he had not identified
himself so completely with one kind of current, but
that made no difference to him, as it was a matter of
conviction; and Edison's convictions are granitic.
Moreover, this controversy over the two currents,
alternating and direct, which has become historical
in the field of electricity--and is something like the
"irrepressible conflict" we heard of years ago in
national affairs--illustrates another aspect of Edison's
character. Broad as the prairies and free in thought
as the winds that sweep them, he is idiosyncratically
opposed to loose and wasteful methods, to plans of
empire that neglect the poor at the gate. Every-
thing he has done has been aimed at the conservation
of energy, the contraction of space, the intensification
of culture. Burbank and his tribe represent
in the vegetable world, Edison in the mechanical.
Not only has he developed distinctly new species,
but he has elucidated the intensive art of getting
$1200 out of an electrical acre instead of $12--a
manured market-garden inside London and a ten-
bushel exhausted wheat farm outside Lawrence,
Kansas, being the antipodes of productivity--yet
very far short of exemplifying the difference of electrical
yield between an acre of territory in Edison's
"first New York district" and an acre in some small
town.

Edison's lighting work furnished an excellent basis--
in fact, the only one--for the development of the alternating
current now so generally employed in central-
station work in America; and in the McGraw Electrical
Directory of April, 1909, no fewer than 4164 stations
out of 5780 reported its use. When the alternating
current was introduced for practical purposes it was
not needed for arc lighting, the circuit for which,
from a single dynamo, would often be twenty or
thirty miles in length, its current having a pressure
of not less than five or six thousand volts. For some
years it was not found feasible to operate motors on
alternating-current circuits, and that reason was
often urged against it seriously. It could not be
used for electroplating or deposition, nor could it
charge storage batteries, all of which are easily within
the ability of the direct current. But when it came
to be a question of lighting a scattered suburb, a
group of dwellings on the outskirts, a remote country
residence or a farm-house, the alternating current, in
all elements save its danger, was and is ideal. Its
thin wires can be carried cheaply over vast areas,
and at each local point of consumption the transformer
of size exactly proportioned to its local task
takes the high-voltage transmission current and
lowers its potential at a ratio of 20 or 40 to 1, for use
in distribution and consumption circuits. This evolution
has been quite distinct, with its own inventors
like Gaulard and Gibbs and Stanley, but came subsequent
to the work of supplying small, dense areas
of population; the art thus growing from within,
and using each new gain as a means for further
achievement.

Nor was the effect of such great advances as those
made by Edison limited to the electrical field. Every
department of mechanics was stimulated and benefited
to an extraordinary degree. Copper for the
circuits was more highly refined than ever before to
secure the best conductivity, and purity was insisted
on in every kind of insulation. Edison was intolerant
of sham and shoddy, and nothing would satisfy him
that could not stand cross-examination by microscope,
test-tube, and galvanometer. It was, perhaps,
the steam-engine on which the deepest imprint for
good was made, referred to already in the remarks
of Mr. F. J. Sprague in the preceding chapter, but
best illustrated in the perfection of the modern high-
speed engine of the Armington & Sims type. Unless
he could secure an engine of smoother running and
more exactly governed and regulated than those avail-
able for his dynamo and lamp, Edison realized that
he would find it almost impossible to give a steady
light. He did not want his customers to count the
heart-beats of the engine in the flicker of the lamp.
Not a single engine was even within gunshot of the
standard thus set up, but the emergency called forth
its man in Gardiner C. Sims, a talented draughtsman
and designer who had been engaged in locomotive
construction and in the engineering department of
the United States Navy. He may be quoted as to
what happened: "The deep interest, financial and
moral, and friendly backing I received from Mr.
Edison, together with valuable suggestions, enabled
me to bring out the engine; as I was quite alone in
the world--poor--I had found a friend who knew
what he wanted and explained it clearly. Mr. Edison
was a leader far ahead of the time. He compelled the
design of the successful engine.

"Our first engine compelled the inventing and making
of a suitable engine indicator to indicate it--the
Tabor. He obtained the desired speed and load
with a friction brake; also regulator of speed; but
waited for an indicator to verify it. Then again there
was no known way to lubricate an engine for continuous
running, and Mr. Edison informed me that as a
marine engine started before the ship left New York
and continued running until it reached its home
port, so an engine for his purposes must produce
light at all times. That was a poser to me, for a
five-hours' run was about all that had been required
up to that time.

"A day or two later Mr. Edison inquired: `How far
is it from here to Lawrence; it is a long walk, isn't it?'
`Yes, rather.' He said: `Of course you will understand
I meant without oil.' To say I was deeply perplexed
does not express my feelings. We were at
the machine works, Goerck Street. I started for the
oil-room, when, about entering, I saw a small funnel
lying on the floor. It had been stepped on and
flattened. I took it up, and it had solved the engine-
oiling problem--and my walk to Lawrence like a
tramp actor's was off! The eccentric strap had a round
glass oil-cup with a brass base that screwed into the
strap. I took it off, and making a sketch, went to
Dave Cunningham, having the funnel in my hand to
illustrate what I wanted made. I requested him to
make a sheet-brass oil-cup and solder it to the base
I had. He did so. I then had a standard made to
hold another oil-cup, so as to see and regulate the
drop-feed. On this combination I obtained a patent
which is now universally used."

It is needless to say that in due course the engine
builders of the United States developed a variety of
excellent prime movers for electric-light and power
plants, and were grateful to the art from which such
a stimulus came to their industry; but for many
years one never saw an Edison installation without
expecting to find one or more Armington & Sims high-
speed engines part of it. Though the type has gone
out of existence, like so many other things that are
useful in their day and generation, it was once a very
vital part of the art, and one more illustration of that
intimate manner in which the advances in different
fields of progress interact and co-operate.

Edison had installed his historic first great central-
station system in New York on the multiple arc system
covered by his feeder and main invention, which
resulted in a notable saving in the cost of conductors
as against a straight two-wire system throughout of
the "tree" kind. He soon foresaw that still greater
economy would be necessary for commercial success
not alone for the larger territory opening, but for the
compact districts of large cities. Being firmly convinced
that there was a way out, he pushed aside a
mass of other work, and settled down to this problem,
with the result that on November 20, 1882, only two
months after current had been sent out from Pearl
Street, he executed an application for a patent covering
what is now known as the "three-wire system."
It has been universally recognized as one of the most
valuable inventions in the history of the lighting art.[13]
Its use resulted in a saving of over 60 per cent. of copper
in conductors, figured on the most favorable basis
previously known, inclusive of those calculated under
his own feeder and main system. Such economy of
outlay being effected in one of the heaviest items of
expense in central-station construction, it was now
made possible to establish plants in towns where the
large investment would otherwise have been quite
prohibitive. The invention is in universal use today,
alike for direct and for alternating current, and
as well in the equipment of large buildings as in the
distribution system of the most extensive central-station
networks. One cannot imagine the art without it.


[13] For technical description and illustration of this invention,
see Appendix.


The strong position held by the Edison system,
under the strenuous competition that was already
springing up, was enormously improved by the
introduction of the three-wire system; and it gave an
immediate impetus to incandescent lighting. Desiring
to put this new system into practical use promptly,
and receiving applications for licenses from all
over the country, Edison selected Brockton,
Massachusetts, and Sunbury, Pennsylvania, as the two
towns for the trial. Of these two Brockton required
the larger plant, but with the conductors placed
underground. It was the first to complete its arrangements
and close its contract. Mr. Henry Villard, it
will be remembered, had married the daughter of
Garrison, the famous abolitionist, and it was through
his relationship with the Garrison family that Brockton
came to have the honor of exemplifying so soon
the principles of an entirely new art. Sunbury, however,
was a much smaller installation, employed overhead
conductors, and hence was the first to "cross the
tape." It was specially suited for a trial plant also,
in the early days when a yield of six or eight lamps
to the horse-power was considered subject for
congratulation. The town being situated in the coal
region of Pennsylvania, good coal could then be
obtained there at seventy-five cents a ton.

The Sunbury generating plant consisted of an
Armington & Sims engine driving two small Edison
dynamos having a total capacity of about four hundred
lamps of 16 c.p. The indicating instruments
were of the crudest construction, consisting of two
voltmeters connected by "pressure wires" to the
centre of electrical distribution. One ammeter, for
measuring the quantity of current output, was interpolated
in the "neutral bus" or third-wire return
circuit to indicate when the load on the two machines
was out of balance. The circuits were opened and
closed by means of about half a dozen roughly made
plug-switches.[14] The "bus-bars" to receive the
current from the dynamos were made of No. 000 copper
line wire, straightened out and fastened to the wooden
sheathing of the station by iron staples without any
presence to insulation. Commenting upon this Mr.
W. S. Andrews, detailed from the central staff, says:
"The interior winding of the Sunbury station, including
the running of two three-wire feeders the entire
length of the building from back to front, the wiring
up of the dynamos and switchboard and all instruments,
together with bus-bars, etc.--in fact, all
labor and material used in the electrical wiring
installation--amounted to the sum of $90. I received
a rather sharp letter from the New York office
expostulating for this EXTRAVAGANT EXPENDITURE, and
stating that great economy must be observed in future!"
The street conductors were of the overhead pole-line
construction, and were installed by the construction
company that had been organized by Edison to build
and equip central stations. A special type of street
pole had been devised by him for the three-wire system.


[14] By reason of the experience gained at this station through
the use of these crude plug-switches, Mr. Edison started a competition
among a few of his assistants to devise something better.
The result was the invention of a "breakdown" switch by Mr.
W. S. Andrews, which was accepted by Mr. Edison as the best of
the devices suggested, and was developed and used for a great
many years afterward.


Supplementing the story of Mr. Andrews is that of
Lieut. F. J. Sprague, who also gives a curious glimpse
of the glorious uncertainties and vicissitudes of that
formative period. Mr. Sprague served on the jury at
the Crystal Palace Exhibition with Darwin's son--
the present Sir Horace--and after the tests were
ended left the Navy and entered Edison's service at
the suggestion of Mr. E. H. Johnson, who was Edison's
shrewd recruiting sergeant in those days: "I resigned
sooner than Johnson expected, and he had
me on his hands. Meanwhile he had called upon me
to make a report of the three-wire system, known in
England as the Hopkinson, both Dr. John Hopkinson
and Mr. Edison being independent inventors at
practically the same time. I reported on that, left
London, and landed in New York on the day of the
opening of the Brooklyn Bridge in 1883--May 24--
with a year's leave of absence.

"I reported at the office of Mr. Edison on Fifth
Avenue and told him I had seen Johnson. He looked
me over and said: `What did he promise you?' I
replied: `Twenty-five hundred dollars a year.' He
did not say much, but looked it. About that time
Mr. Andrews and I came together. On July 2d of that
year we were ordered to Sunbury, and to be ready to
start the station on the fourth. The electrical work
had to be done in forty-eight hours! Having travelled
around the world, I had cultivated an indifference
to any special difficulties of that kind. Mr.
Andrews and I worked in collaboration until the
night of the third. I think he was perhaps more
appreciative than I was of the discipline of the Edison
Construction Department, and thought it would be
well for us to wait until the morning of the fourth
before we started up. I said we were sent over to
get going, and insisted on starting up on the night
of the third. We had an Armington & Sims engine
with sight-feed oiler. I had never seen one, and did
not know how it worked, with the result that we soon
burned up the babbitt metal in the bearings and spent
a good part of the night getting them in order. The
next day Mr. Edison, Mr. Insull, and the chief
engineer of the construction department appeared on
the scene and wanted to know what had happened.
They found an engine somewhat loose in the bearings,
and there followed remarks which would not look
well in print. Andrews skipped from under; he
obeyed orders; I did not. But the plant ran, and it
was the first three-wire station in this country."

Seen from yet another angle, the worries of this
early work were not merely those of the men on the
"firing line." Mr. Insull, in speaking of this period,
says: "When it was found difficult to push the central-
station business owing to the lack of confidence
in its financial success, Edison decided to go into the
business of promoting and constructing central-station
plants, and he formed what was known as the
Thomas A. Edison Construction Department, which
he put me in charge of. The organization was crude,
the steam-engineering talent poor, and owing to the
impossibility of getting any considerable capital
subscribed, the plants were put in as cheaply as
possible. I believe that this construction department
was unkindly named the `Destruction Department.'
It served its purpose; never made any money; and I
had the unpleasant task of presiding at its obsequies."

On July 4th the Sunbury plant was put into commercial
operation by Edison, and he remained a week
studying its conditions and watching for any unforeseen
difficulty that might arise. Nothing happened,
however, to interfere with the successful running of
the station, and for twenty years thereafter the same
two dynamos continued to furnish light in Sunbury.
They were later used as reserve machines, and finally,
with the engine, retired from service as part of
the "Collection of Edisonia"; but they remain in
practically as good condition as when installed in
1883.

Sunbury was also provided with the first electro-
chemical meters used in the United States outside
New York City, so that it served also to accentuate
electrical practice in a most vital respect--namely,
the measurement of the electrical energy supplied to
customers. At this time and long after, all arc
lighting was done on a "flat rate" basis. The arc
lamp installed outside a customer's premises, or in
a circuit for public street lighting, burned so many
hours nightly, so many nights in the month; and was
paid for at that rate, subject to rebate for hours
when the lamp might be out through accident. The
early arc lamps were rated to require 9 to 10 amperes
of current, at 45 volts pressure each, receiving which
they were estimated to give 2000 c.p., which was arrived
at by adding together the light found at four
different positions, so that in reality the actual light
was about 500 c.p. Few of these data were ever
actually used, however; and it was all more or less a
matter of guesswork, although the central-station
manager, aiming to give good service, would naturally
see that the dynamos were so operated as to maintain
as steadily as possible the normal potential and current.
The same loose methods applied to the early
attempts to use electric motors on arc-lighting circuits,
and contracts were made based on the size of
the motor, the width of the connecting belt, or the
amount of power the customer thought he used--
never on the measurement of the electrical energy
furnished him.

Here again Edison laid the foundation of standard
practice. It is true that even down to the present
time the flat rate is applied to a great deal of
incandescent lighting, each lamp being charged for
individually according to its probable consumption
during each month. This may answer, perhaps, in a
small place where the manager can gauge pretty
closely from actual observation what each customer
does; but even then there are elements of risk and
waste; and obviously in a large city such a method
would soon be likely to result in financial disaster to
the plant. Edison held that the electricity sold must
be measured just like gas or water, and he proceeded
to develop a meter. There was infinite scepticism
around him on the subject, and while other inventors
were also giving the subject their thought, the public
took it for granted that anything so utterly intangible
as electricity, that could not be seen or weighed, and
only gave secondary evidence of itself at the exact
point of use, could not be brought to accurate regis-
tration. The general attitude of doubt was exemplified
by the incident in Mr. J. P. Morgan's office,
noted in the last chapter. Edison, however, had
satisfied himself that there were various ways of
accomplishing the task, and had determined that the
current should be measured on the premises of every
consumer. His electrolytic meter was very successful,
and was of widespread use in America and in Europe
until the perfection of mechanical meters by Elihu
Thomson and others brought that type into general
acceptance. Hence the Edison electrolytic meter is
no longer used, despite its excellent qualities. Houston
& Kennelly in their Electricity in Everyday Life
sum the matter up as follows: "The Edison chemical
meter is capable of giving fair measurements of the
amount of current passing. By reason, however, of
dissatisfaction caused from the inability of customers
to read the indications of the meter, it has in later
years, to a great extent, been replaced by registering
meters that can be read by the customer."

The principle employed in the Edison electrolytic
meter is that which exemplifies the power of electricity
to decompose a chemical substance. In other
words it is a deposition bath, consisting of a glass cell
in which two plates of chemically pure zinc are dipped
in a solution of zinc sulphate. When the lights or
motors in the circuit are turned on, and a certain
definite small portion of the current is diverted to
flow through the meter, from the positive plate to the
negative plate, the latter increases in weight by receiving
a deposit of metallic zinc; the positive plate
meantime losing in weight by the metal thus carried
away from it. This difference in weight is a very
exact measure of the quantity of electricity, or number
of ampere-hours, that have, so to speak, passed
through the cell, and hence of the whole consumption
in the circuit. The amount thus due from the customer
is ascertained by removing the cell, washing
and drying the plates, and weighing them in a chemical
balance. Associated with this simple form of
apparatus were various ingenious details and refinements
to secure regularity of operation, freedom from
inaccuracy, and immunity from such tampering as
would permit theft of current or damage. As the
freezing of the zinc sulphate solution in cold weather
would check its operation, Edison introduced, for
example, into the meter an incandescent lamp and
a thermostat so arranged that when the temperature
fell to a certain point, or rose above another point, it
was cut in or out; and in this manner the meter
could be kept from freezing. The standard Edison
meter practice was to remove the cells once a month
to the meter-room of the central-station company
for examination, another set being substituted. The
meter was cheap to manufacture and install, and not
at all liable to get out of order.

In December, 1888, Mr. W. J. Jenks read an interesting
paper before the American Institute of Electrical
Engineers on the six years of practical experience
had up to that time with the meter, then more generally
in use than any other. It appears from the
paper that twenty-three Edison stations were then
equipped with 5187 meters, which were relied upon
for billing the monthly current consumption of
87,856 lamps and 350 motors of 1000 horse-power
total. This represented about 75 per cent. of the
entire lamp capacity of the stations. There was an
average cost per lamp for meter operation of twenty-
two cents a year, and each meter took care of an
average of seventeen lamps. It is worthy of note,
as to the promptness with which the Edison stations
became paying properties, that four of the metered
stations were earning upward of 15 per cent. on their
capital stock; three others between 8 and 10 per cent.;
eight between 5 and 8 per cent.; the others having
been in operation too short a time to show definite
results, although they also went quickly to a dividend
basis. Reports made in the discussion at the meeting
by engineers showed the simplicity and success
of the meter. Mr. C. L. Edgar, of the Boston Edison
system, stated that he had 800 of the meters in service
cared for by two men and three boys, the latter
employed in collecting the meter cells; the total cost
being perhaps $2500 a year. Mr. J. W. Lieb wrote
from Milan, Italy, that he had in use on the Edison
system there 360 meters ranging from 350 ampere-
hours per month up to 30,000.

In this connection it should be mentioned that
the Association of Edison Illuminating Companies
in the same year adopted resolutions unanimously to
the effect that the Edison meter was accurate, and
that its use was not expensive for stations above
one thousand lights; and that the best financial
results were invariably secured in a station selling
current by meter. Before the same association, at
its meeting in September, 1898, at Sault Ste. Marie,
Mr. C. S. Shepard read a paper on the meter practice
of the New York Edison Company, giving data as to
the large number of Edison meters in use and the
transition to other types, of which to-day the company
has several on its circuits: "Until October,
1896, the New York Edison Company metered its
current in consumer's premises exclusively by the
old-style chemical meters, of which there were
connected on that date 8109. It was then determined
to purchase no more." Mr. Shepard went on to
state that the chemical meters were gradually displaced,
and that on September 1, 1898, there were on
the system 5619 mechanical and 4874 chemical. The
meter continued in general service during 1899, and
probably up to the close of the century.

Mr. Andrews relates a rather humorous meter story
of those early days: "The meter man at Sunbury was
a firm and enthusiastic believer in the correctness of
the Edison meter, having personally verified its reading
many times by actual comparison of lamp-hours.
One day, on making out a customer's bill, his confidence
received a severe shock, for the meter reading
showed a consumption calling for a charge of over
$200, whereas he knew that the light actually used
should not cost more than one-quarter of that amount.
He weighed and reweighed the meter plates, and pursued
every line of investigation imaginable, but all
in vain. He felt he was up against it, and that perhaps
another kind of a job would suit him better.
Once again he went to the customer's meter to look
around, when a small piece of thick wire on the floor
caught his eye. The problem was solved. He sud-
denly remembered that after weighing the plates he
went and put them in the customer's meter; but the
wire attached to one of the plates was too long to
go in the meter, and he had cut it off. He picked up
the piece of wire, took it to the station, weighed it
carefully, and found that it accounted for about $150
worth of electricity, which was the amount of the
difference."

Edison himself is, however, the best repertory of
stories when it comes to the difficulties of that early
period, in connection with metering the current and
charging for it. He may be quoted at length as
follows: "When we started the station at Pearl
Street, in September, 1882, we were not very
commercial. We put many customers on, but did not
make out many bills. We were more interested in
the technical condition of the station than in the
commercial part. We had meters in which there
were two bottles of liquid. To prevent these electrolytes
from freezing we had in each meter a strip
of metal. When it got very cold the metal would
contract and close a circuit, and throw a lamp into
circuit inside the meter. The heat from this lamp
would prevent the liquid from freezing, so that the
meter could go on doing its duty. The first cold day
after starting the station, people began to come in
from their offices, especially down in Front Street
and Water Street, saying the meter was on fire. We
received numerous telephone messages about it.
Some had poured water on it, and others said: `Send
a man right up to put it out.'

"After the station had been running several months
and was technically a success, we began to look after
the financial part. We started to collect some bills;
but we found that our books were kept badly, and
that the person in charge, who was no business man,
had neglected that part of it. In fact, he did not
know anything about the station, anyway. So I got
the directors to permit me to hire a man to run the
station. This was Mr. Chinnock, who was then
superintendent of the Metropolitan Telephone Company
of New York. I knew Chinnock to be square and of
good business ability, and induced him to leave his
job. I made him a personal guarantee, that if he
would take hold of the station and put it on a
commercial basis, and pay 5 per cent. on $600,000, I
would give him $10,000 out of my own pocket. He
took hold, performed the feat, and I paid him the
$10,000. I might remark in this connection that
years afterward I applied to the Edison Electric
Light Company asking them if they would not like
to pay me this money, as it was spent when I was
very hard up and made the company a success, and
was the foundation of their present prosperity. They
said they `were sorry'--that is, `Wall Street sorry'--
and refused to pay it. This shows what a nice, genial,
generous lot of people they have over in Wall Street.

"Chinnock had a great deal of trouble getting the
customers straightened out. I remember one man
who had a saloon on Nassau Street. He had had his
lights burning for two or three months. It was in
June, and Chinnock put in a bill for $20; July for
$20; August about $28; September about $35. Of
course the nights were getting longer. October about
$40; November about $45. Then the man called
Chinnock up. He said: `I want to see you about
my electric-light bill.' Chinnock went up to see him.
He said: `Are you the manager of this electric-light
plant?' Chinnock said: `I have the honor.' `Well,'
he said, my bill has gone from $20 up to $28, $35,
$45. I want you to understand, young fellow, that
my limit is $60.'

"After Chinnock had had all this trouble due to
the incompetency of the previous superintendent, a
man came in and said to him: `Did Mr. Blank have
charge of this station?' `Yes.' `Did he know anything
about running a station like this?' Chinnock
said: `Does he KNOW anything about running a station
like this? No, sir. He doesn't even suspect anything.'

"One day Chinnock came to me and said: `I have
a new customer.' I said: `What is it?' He said:
`I have a fellow who is going to take two hundred
and fifty lights.' I said: `What for?' `He has a
place down here in a top loft, and has got two hundred
and fifty barrels of "rotgut" whiskey. He puts a
light down in the barrel and lights it up, and it ages
the whiskey.' I met Chinnock several weeks after,
and said: `How is the whiskey man getting along?'
`It's all right; he is paying his bill. It fixes the
whiskey and takes the shudder right out of it.' Somebody
went and took out a patent on this idea later.

"In the second year we put the Stock Exchange on
the circuits of the station, but were very fearful that
there would be a combination of heavy demand and
a dark day, and that there would be an overloaded
station. We had an index like a steam-gauge, called
an ampere-meter, to indicate the amount of current
going out. I was up at 65 Fifth Avenue one afternoon.
A sudden black cloud came up, and I telephoned
to Chinnock and asked him about the load.
He said: `We are up to the muzzle, and everything is
running all right.' By-and-by it became so thick we
could not see across the street. I telephoned again,
and felt something would happen, but fortunately it
did not. I said to Chinnock: `How is it now?' He
replied: `Everything is red-hot, and the ampere-
meter has made seventeen revolutions.' "

In 1883 no such fittings as "fixture insulators" were
known. It was the common practice to twine the
electric wires around the disused gas-fixtures, fasten
them with tape or string, and connect them to lamp-
sockets screwed into attachments under the gas-
burners--elaborated later into what was known as
the "combination fixture." As a result it was no
uncommon thing to see bright sparks snapping between
the chandelier and the lighting wires during
a sharp thunder-storm. A startling manifestation of
this kind happened at Sunbury, when the vivid display
drove nervous guests of the hotel out into the
street, and the providential storm led Mr. Luther
Stieringer to invent the "insulating joint." This
separated the two lighting systems thoroughly, went into
immediate service, and is universally used to-day.

Returning to the more specific subject of pioneer
plants of importance, that at Brockton must be considered
for a moment, chiefly for the reason that the
city was the first in the world to possess an Edison
station distributing current through an underground
three-wire network of conductors--the essentially
modern contemporaneous practice, standard twenty-
five years later. It was proposed to employ pole-line
construction with overhead wires, and a party of
Edison engineers drove about the town in an open
barouche with a blue-print of the circuits and streets
spread out on their knees, to determine how much
tree-trimming would be necessary. When they came
to some heavily shaded spots, the fine trees were
marked "T" to indicate that the work in getting
through them would be "tough." Where the trees
were sparse and the foliage was thin, the same cheerful
band of vandals marked the spots "E" to indicate
that there it would be "easy" to run the wires. In
those days public opinion was not so alive as now
to the desirability of preserving shade-trees, and of
enhancing the beauty of a city instead of destroying it.
Brockton had a good deal of pride in its fine trees,
and a strong sentiment was very soon aroused against
the mutilation proposed so thoughtlessly. The investors
in the enterprise were ready and anxious to
meet the extra cost of putting the wires underground.
Edison's own wishes were altogether for the use of
the methods he had so carefully devised; and hence
that bustling home of shoe manufacture was spared
this infliction of more overhead wires.

The station equipment at Brockton consisted at
first of three dynamos, one of which was so arranged
as to supply both sides of the system during light
loads by a breakdown switch connection. This
arrangement interfered with correct meter registra-
tion, as the meters on one side of the system registered
backward during the hours in which the combination
was employed. Hence, after supplying an all-night
customer whose lamps were on one side of the circuits,
the company might be found to owe him some
thing substantial in the morning. Soon after the
station went into operation this ingenious plan was
changed, and the third dynamo was replaced by two
others. The Edison construction department took
entire charge of the installation of the plant, and the
formal opening was attended on October 1, 1883, by
Mr. Edison, who then remained a week in ceaseless
study and consultation over the conditions developed
by this initial three-wire underground plant. Some
idea of the confidence inspired by the fame of Edison
at this period is shown by the fact that the first
theatre ever lighted from a central station by
incandescent lamps was designed this year, and opened in
1884 at Brockton with an equipment of three hundred
lamps. The theatre was never piped for gas! It was
also from the Brockton central station that current
was first supplied to a fire-engine house--another
display of remarkably early belief in the trustworthiness
of the service, under conditions where continuity
of lighting was vital. The building was equipped in
such a manner that the striking of the fire-alarm
would light every lamp in the house automatically
and liberate the horses. It was at this central station
that Lieutenant Sprague began his historic work on
the electric motor; and here that another distinguished
engineer and inventor, Mr. H. Ward Leonard,
installed the meters and became meter man, in order
that he might study in every intimate detail the
improvements and refinements necessary in that branch
of the industry.

The authors are indebted for these facts and some
other data embodied in this book to Mr. W. J. Jenks,
who as manager of this plant here made his debut in
the Edison ranks. He had been connected with local
telephone interests, but resigned to take active charge
of this plant, imbibing quickly the traditional Edison
spirit, working hard all day and sleeping in the station
at night on a cot brought there for that purpose. It
was a time of uninterrupted watchfulness. The difficulty
of obtaining engineers in those days to run the
high-speed engines (three hundred and fifty revolutions
per minute) is well illustrated by an amusing
incident in the very early history of the station. A
locomotive engineer had been engaged, as it was supposed
he would not be afraid of anything. One evening
there came a sudden flash of fire and a spluttering,
sizzling noise. There had been a short-circuit on
the copper mains in the station. The fireman hid
behind the boiler and the engineer jumped out of the
window. Mr. Sprague realized the trouble, quickly
threw off the current and stopped the engine.

Mr. Jenks relates another humorous incident in
connection with this plant: "One night I heard a
knock at the office door, and on opening it saw two
well-dressed ladies, who asked if they might be shown
through. I invited them in, taking them first to the
boiler-room, where I showed them the coal-pile, explaining
that this was used to generate steam in the
boiler. We then went to the dynamo-room, where
I pointed out the machines converting the steam-
power into electricity, appearing later in the form of
light in the lamps. After that they were shown the
meters by which the consumption of current was
measured. They appeared to be interested, and I
proceeded to enter upon a comparison of coal made
into gas or burned under a boiler to be converted
into electricity. The ladies thanked me effusively
and brought their visit to a close. As they were about
to go through the door, one of them turned to me
and said: `We have enjoyed this visit very much,
but there is one question we would like to ask: What
is it that you make here?' "

The Brockton station was for a long time a show
plant of the Edison company, and had many distinguished
visitors, among them being Prof. Elihu
Thomson, who was present at the opening, and Sir
W. H. Preece, of London. The engineering methods
pursued formed the basis of similar installations in
Lawrence, Massachusetts, in November, 1883; in
Fall River, Massachusetts, in December, 1883; and
in Newburgh, New York, the following spring.

Another important plant of this period deserves
special mention, as it was the pioneer in the lighting
of large spaces by incandescent lamps. This installation
of five thousand lamps on the three-wire system
was made to illuminate the buildings at the Louisville,
Kentucky, Exposition in 1883, and, owing to the careful
surveys, calculations, and preparations of H. M.
Byllesby and the late Luther Stieringer, was completed
and in operation within six weeks after
the placing of the order. The Jury of Awards,

in presenting four medals to the Edison company,
took occasion to pay a high compliment to the
efficiency of the system. It has been thought by
many that the magnificent success of this plant
did more to stimulate the growth of the incandescent
lighting business than any other event in
the history of the Edison company. It was literally
the beginning of the electrical illumination of American
Expositions, carried later to such splendid displays
as those of the Chicago World's Fair in 1893,
Buffalo in 1901, and St. Louis in 1904.

Thus the art was set going in the United States
under many difficulties, but with every sign of coming
triumph. Reference has already been made to
the work abroad in Paris and London. The first
permanent Edison station in Europe was that at
Milan, Italy, for which the order was given as early
as May, 1882, by an enterprising syndicate. Less
than a year later, March 3, 1883, the installation was
ready and was put in operation, the Theatre Santa
Radegonda having been pulled down and a new central-
station building erected in its place--probably
the first edifice constructed in Europe for the
specific purpose of incandescent lighting. Here
"Jumbos" were installed from time to time, until at
last there were no fewer than ten of them; and current
was furnished to customers with a total of nearly
ten thousand lamps connected to the mains. This
pioneer system was operated continuously until
February 9, 1900, or for a period of about seventeen
years, when the sturdy old machines, still in excellent
condition, were put out of service, so that a larger
plant could be installed to meet the demand. This
new plant takes high-tension polyphase current from
a water-power thirty or forty miles away at Paderno,
on the river Adda, flowing from the Apennines;
but delivers low-tension direct current for distribution
to the regular Edison three-wire system throughout
Milan.

About the same time that southern Europe was
thus opened up to the new system, South America
came into line, and the first Edison central station
there was installed at Santiago, Chile, in the summer of
1883, under the supervision of Mr. W. N. Stewart.
This was the result of the success obtained with small
isolated plants, leading to the formation of an Edison
company. It can readily be conceived that at such
an extreme distance from the source of supply of
apparatus the plant was subject to many peculiar
difficulties from the outset, of which Mr. Stewart
speaks as follows: "I made an exhibition of the
`Jumbo' in the theatre at Santiago, and on the first
evening, when it was filled with the aristocracy of the
city, I discovered to my horror that the binding wire
around the armature was slowly stripping off and
going to pieces. We had no means of boring out the
field magnets, and we cut grooves in them. I think
the machine is still running (1907). The station
went into operation soon after with an equipment of
eight Edison `K' dynamos with certain conditions
inimical to efficiency, but which have not hindered
the splendid expansion of the local system. With
those eight dynamos we had four belts between each
engine and the dynamo. The steam pressure was
limited to seventy-five pounds per square inch. We
had two-wire underground feeders, sent without any
plans or specifications for their installation. The
station had neither voltmeter nor ammeter. The
current pressure was regulated by a galvanometer.
We were using coal costing $12 a ton, and were paid
for our light in currency worth fifty cents on the
dollar. The only thing I can be proud of in connection
with the plant is the fact that I did not design
it, that once in a while we made out to pay its operating
expenses, and that occasionally we could run it
for three months without a total breakdown."

It was not until 1885 that the first Edison station
in Germany was established; but the art was still
very young, and the plant represented pioneer lighting
practice in the Empire. The station at Berlin
comprised five boilers, and six vertical steam-engines
driving by belts twelve Edison dynamos, each of
about fifty-five horse-power capacity. A model of
this station is preserved in the Deutschen Museum at
Munich. In the bulletin of the Berlin Electricity
Works for May, 1908, it is said with regard to the
events that led up to the creation of the system, as
noted already at the Rathenau celebration: "The
year 1881 was a mile-stone in the history of the Allgemeine
Elektricitaets Gesellschaft. The International
Electrical Exposition at Paris was intended to place
before the eyes of the civilized world the achievements
of the century. Among the exhibits of that
Exposition was the Edison system of incandescent
lighting. IT BECAME THE BASIS OF MODERN HEAVY CURRENT
TECHNICS." The last phrase is italicized as being a
happy and authoritative description, as well as a
tribute.

This chapter would not be complete if it failed to
include some reference to a few of the earlier isolated
plants of a historic character. Note has already been
made of the first Edison plants afloat on the Jeannette
and Columbia, and the first commercial plant in the
New York lithographic establishment. The first mill
plant was placed in the woollen factory of James
Harrison at Newburgh, New York, about September
15, 1881. A year later, Mr. Harrison wrote with some
pride: "I believe my mill was the first lighted with
your electric light, and therefore may be called No. 1.
Besides being job No. 1 it is a No. 1 job, and a No. 1
light, being better and cheaper than gas and absolutely
safe as to fire." The first steam-yacht lighted
by incandescent lamps was James Gordon Bennett's
Namouna, equipped early in 1882 with a plant for
one hundred and twenty lamps of eight candlepower,
which remained in use there many years
afterward.

The first Edison plant in a hotel was started in
October, 1881, at the Blue Mountain House in the
Adirondacks, and consisted of two "Z" dynamos
with a complement of eight and sixteen candle lamps.
The hotel is situated at an elevation of thirty-five
hundred feet above the sea, and was at that time
forty miles from the railroad. The machinery was
taken up in pieces on the backs of mules from the
foot of the mountain. The boilers were fired by wood,
as the economical transportation of coal was a physical
impossibility. For a six-hour run of the plant one-
quarter of a cord of wood was required, at a cost of
twenty-five cents per cord.

The first theatre in the United States to be lighted
by an Edison isolated plant was the Bijou Theatre,
Boston. The installation of boilers, engines, dynamos,
wiring, switches, fixtures, three stage regulators,
and six hundred and fifty lamps, was completed in
eleven days after receipt of the order, and the plant
was successfully operated at the opening of the
theatre, on December 12, 1882.

The first plant to be placed on a United States
steamship was the one consisting of an Edison "Z"
dynamo and one hundred and twenty eight-candle
lamps installed on the Fish Commission's steamer
Albatross in 1883. The most interesting feature of
this installation was the employment of special deep-
sea lamps, supplied with current through a cable
nine hundred and forty feet in length, for the purpose
of alluring fish. By means of the brilliancy of the
lamps marine animals in the lower depths were attracted
and then easily ensnared.



CHAPTER XVIII

THE ELECTRIC RAILWAY

EDISON had no sooner designed his dynamo in
1879 than he adopted the same form of machine
for use as a motor. The two are shown in the Scientific
American of October 18, 1879, and are alike, except
that the dynamo is vertical and the motor lies in a
horizontal position, the article remarking: "Its construction
differs but slightly from the electric generator."
This was but an evidence of his early appreciation
of the importance of electricity as a motive power;
but it will probably surprise many people to know
that he was the inventor of an electric motor before
he perfected his incandescent lamp. His interest in
the subject went back to his connection with General
Lefferts in the days of the evolution of the stock
ticker. While Edison was carrying on his shop at
Newark, New Jersey, there was considerable excitement
in electrical circles over the Payne motor, in
regard to the alleged performance of which Governor
Cornell of New York and other wealthy capitalists
were quite enthusiastic. Payne had a shop in Newark,
and in one small room was the motor, weighing perhaps
six hundred pounds. It was of circular form,
incased in iron, with the ends of several small magnets
sticking through the floor. A pulley and belt, con-
nected to a circular saw larger than the motor,
permitted large logs of oak timber to be sawed with ease
with the use of two small cells of battery. Edison's
friend, General Lefferts, had become excited and was
determined to invest a large sum of money in the
motor company, but knowing Edison's intimate
familiarity with all electrical subjects he was wise
enough to ask his young expert to go and see the
motor with him. At an appointed hour Edison went
to the office of the motor company and found there
the venerable Professor Morse, Governor Cornell,
General Lefferts, and many others who had been
invited to witness a performance of the motor. They
all proceeded to the room where the motor was at
work. Payne put a wire in the binding-post of the
battery, the motor started, and an assistant began
sawing a heavy oak log. It worked beautifully, and so
great was the power developed, apparently, from the
small battery, that Morse exclaimed: "I am thankful
that I have lived to see this day." But Edison
kept a close watch on the motor. The results were
so foreign to his experience that he knew there was
a trick in it. He soon discovered it. While holding
his hand on the frame of the motor he noticed a
tremble coincident with the exhaust of an engine
across the alleyway, and he then knew that the
power came from the engine by a belt under the floor,
shifted on and off by a magnet, the other magnets
being a blind. He whispered to the General to put
his hand on the frame of the motor, watch the
exhaust, and note the coincident tremor. The General
did so, and in about fifteen seconds he said: "Well,
Edison, I must go now. This thing is a fraud." And
thus he saved his money, although others not so
shrewdly advised were easily persuaded to invest by
such a demonstration.

A few years later, in 1878, Edison went to Wyoming
with a group of astronomers, to test his tasimeter during
an eclipse of the sun, and saw the land white to harvest.
He noticed the long hauls to market or elevator
that the farmers had to make with their loads of grain
at great expense, and conceived the idea that as ordinary
steam-railroad service was too costly, light
electric railways might be constructed that could
be operated automatically over simple tracks, the
propelling motors being controlled at various points.
Cheap to build and cheap to maintain, such roads would
be a great boon to the newer farming regions of the
West, where the highways were still of the crudest character,
and where transportation was the gravest difficulty
with which the settlers had to contend. The
plan seems to have haunted him, and he had no sooner
worked out a generator and motor that owing to their
low internal resistance could be operated efficiently,
than he turned his hand to the practical trial of such
a railroad, applicable to both the haulage of freight
and the transportation of passengers. Early in 1880,
when the tremendous rush of work involved in the
invention of the incandescent lamp intermitted a little,
he began the construction of a stretch of track
close to the Menlo Park laboratory, and at the same
time built an electric locomotive to operate over it.

This is a fitting stage at which to review briefly
what had been done in electric traction up to that
date. There was absolutely no art, but there had
been a number of sporadic and very interesting
experiments made. The honor of the first attempt of
any kind appears to rest with this country and with
Thomas Davenport, a self-trained blacksmith, of
Brandon, Vermont, who made a small model of a
circular electric railway and cars in 1834, and
exhibited it the following year in Springfield, Boston,
and other cities. Of course he depended upon
batteries for current, but the fundamental idea was
embodied of using the track for the circuit, one rail
being positive and the other negative, and the motor
being placed across or between them in multiple arc
to receive the current. Such are also practically the
methods of to-day. The little model was in good
preservation up to the year 1900, when, being shipped
to the Paris Exposition, it was lost, the steamer that
carried it foundering in mid-ocean. The very broad
patent taken out by this simple mechanic, so far
ahead of his times, was the first one issued in America
for an electric motor. Davenport was also the first
man to apply electric power to the printing-press,
in 1840. In his traction work he had a close second
in Robert Davidson, of Aberdeen, Scotland, who in
1839 operated both a lathe and a small locomotive
with the motor he had invented. His was the credit
of first actually carrying passengers--two at a time,
over a rough plank road--while it is said that his was
the first motor to be tried on real tracks, those of
the Edinburgh-Glasgow road, making a speed of four
miles an hour.

The curse of this work and of all that succeeded it
for a score of years was the necessity of depending
upon chemical batteries for current, the machine
usually being self-contained and hauling the batteries
along with itself, as in the case of the famous
Page experiments in April, 1851, when a speed of
nineteen miles an hour was attained on the line of
the Washington & Baltimore road. To this unfruitful
period belonged, however, the crude idea of taking
the current from a stationary source of power by
means of an overhead contact, which has found its
practical evolution in the modern ubiquitous trolley;
although the patent for this, based on his caveat of
1879, was granted several years later than that to
Stephen D. Field, for the combination of an electric
motor operated by means of a current from a stationary
dynamo or source of electricity conducted
through the rails. As a matter of fact, in 1856 and
again in 1875, George F. Green, a jobbing machinist,
of Kalamazoo, Michigan, built small cars and tracks
to which current was fed from a distant battery,
enough energy being utilized to haul one hundred
pounds of freight or one passenger up and down a
"road" two hundred feet long. All the work prior
to the development of the dynamo as a source of
current was sporadic and spasmodic, and cannot be
said to have left any trace on the art, though it
offered many suggestions as to operative methods.

The close of the same decade of the nineteenth
century that saw the electric light brought to perfection,
saw also the realization in practice of all the
hopes of fifty years as to electric traction. Both
utilizations depended upon the supply of current now
cheaply obtainable from the dynamo. These arts
were indeed twins, feeding at inexhaustible breasts.
In 1879, at the Berlin Exhibition, the distinguished
firm of Siemens, to whose ingenuity and enterprise
electrical development owes so much, installed a road
about one-third of a mile in length, over which the
locomotive hauled a train of three small cars at a
speed of about eight miles an hour, carrying some
twenty persons every trip. Current was fed from a
dynamo to the motor through a central third rail, the
two outer rails being joined together as the negative
or return circuit. Primitive but essentially successful,
this little road made a profound impression on the
minds of many inventors and engineers, and marked
the real beginning of the great new era, which has
already seen electricity applied to the operation of
main lines of trunk railways. But it is not to be supposed
that on the part of the public there was any
great amount of faith then discernible; and for some
years the pioneers had great difficulty, especially in
this country, in raising money for their early modest
experiments. Of the general conditions at this
moment Frank J. Sprague says in an article in the
Century Magazine of July, 1905, on the creation of
the new art: "Edison was perhaps nearer the verge
of great electric-railway possibilities than any other
American. In the face of much adverse criticism
he had developed the essentials of the low-internal-
resistance dynamo with high-resistance field, and
many of the essential features of multiple-arc
distribution, and in 1880 he built a small road at his
laboratory at Menlo Park."

On May 13th of the year named this interesting
road went into operation as the result of hard and
hurried work of preparation during the spring months.
The first track was about a third of a mile in length,
starting from the shops, following a country road, passing
around a hill at the rear and curving home, in the
general form of the letter "U." The rails were very
light. Charles T. Hughes, who went with Edison in
1879, and was in charge of much of the work, states
that they were "second" street-car rails, insulated
with tar canvas paper and things of that sort--
"asphalt." They were spiked down on ordinary
sleepers laid upon the natural grade, and the gauge
was about three feet six inches. At one point the
grade dropped some sixty feet in a distance of three
hundred, and the curves were of recklessly short
radius. The dynamos supplying current to the road
were originally two of the standard size "Z" machines
then being made at the laboratory, popularly known
throughout the Edison ranks as "Longwaisted Mary
Anns," and the circuits from these were carried out
to the rails by underground conductors. They were
not large--about twelve horse-power each--generating
seventy-five amperes of current at one hundred and
ten volts, so that not quite twenty-five horse-power
of electrical energy was available for propulsion.

The locomotive built while the roadbed was getting
ready was a four-wheeled iron truck, an ordinary flat
dump-car about six feet long and four feet wide,
upon which was mounted a "Z" dynamo used as a
motor, so that it had a capacity of about twelve
horsepower. This machine was laid on its side, with the
armature end coming out at the front of the
locomotive, and the motive power was applied to the
driving-axle by a cumbersome series of friction pulleys.
Each wheel of the locomotive had a metal rim
and a centre web of wood or papier-mache, and the
current picked up by one set of wheels was carried
through contact brushes and a brass hub to the
motor; the circuit back to the track, or other rail,
being closed through the other wheels in a similar
manner. The motor had its field-magnet circuit in
permanent connection as a shunt across the rails,
protected by a crude bare copper-wire safety-catch.
A switch in the armature circuit enabled the motorman
to reverse the direction of travel by reversing the
current flow through the armature coils.

Things went fairly well for a time on that memorable
Thursday afternoon, when all the laboratory
force made high holiday and scrambled for foothold
on the locomotive for a trip; but the friction gearing
was not equal to the sudden strain put upon it during
one run and went to pieces. Some years later, also,
Daft again tried friction gear in his historical experiments
on the Manhattan Elevated road, but the results
were attended with no greater success. The
next resort of Edison was to belts, the armature shafting
belted to a countershaft on the locomotive frame,
and the countershaft belted to a pulley on the car-
axle. The lever which threw the former friction gear
into adjustment was made to operate an idler pulley
for tightening the axle-belt. When the motor was
started, the armature was brought up to full revolution
and then the belt was tightened on the car-
axle, compelling motion of the locomotive. But the
belts were liable to slip a great deal in the process,
and the chafing of the belts charred them badly. If
that did not happen, and if the belt was made taut
suddenly, the armature burned out--which it did
with disconcerting frequency. The next step was to
use a number of resistance-boxes in series with the
armature, so that the locomotive could start with those
in circuit, and then the motorman could bring it up
to speed gradually by cutting one box out after the
other. To stop the locomotive, the armature circuit
was opened by the main switch, stopping the flow of
current, and then brakes were applied by long levers.
Matters generally and the motors in particular went
much better, even if the locomotive was so freely
festooned with resistance-boxes all of perceptible
weight and occupying much of the limited space.
These details show forcibly and typically the painful
steps of advance that every inventor in this new
field had to make in the effort to reach not alone
commercial practicability, but mechanical feasibility.
It was all empirical enough; but that was the only
way open even to the highest talent.

Smugglers landing laces and silks have been known
to wind them around their bodies, as being less
ostentatious than carrying them in a trunk. Edison
thought his resistance-boxes an equally superfluous
display, and therefore ingeniously wound some copper
resistance wire around one of the legs of the motor
field magnet, where it was out of the way, served as
a useful extra field coil in starting up the motor, and
dismissed most of the boxes back to the laboratory;

a few being retained under the seat for chance emergencies.
Like the boxes, this coil was in series with
the armature, and subject to plugging in and out at
will by the motorman. Thus equipped, the locomotive
was found quite satisfactory, and long did yeoman
service. It was given three cars to pull, one an
open awning-car with two park benches placed back to
back; one a flat freight-car, and one box-car dubbed
the "Pullman," with which Edison illustrated a system
of electric braking. Although work had been
begun so early in the year, and the road had been
operating since May, it was not until July that Edison
executed any application for patents on his
"electromagnetic railway engine," or his ingenious braking
system. Every inventor knows how largely his fate
lies in the hands of a competent and alert patent
attorney, in both the preparation and the prosecution
of his case; and Mr. Sprague is justified in observing
in his Century article: ""The paucity of controlling
claims obtained in these early patents is remarkable."
It is notorious that Edison did not then enjoy the
skilful aid in safeguarding his ideas that he commanded
later.

The daily newspapers and technical journals lost
no time in bringing the road to public attention, and
the New York Herald of June 25th was swift to suggest
that here was the locomotive that would be
"most pleasing to the average New Yorker, whose
head has ached with noise, whose eyes have been
filled with dust, or whose clothes have been ruined
with oil." A couple of days later, the Daily Graphic
illustrated and described the road and published a
sketch of a one-hundred-horse-power electric locomotive
for the use of the Pennsylvania Railroad between
Perth Amboy and Rahway. Visitors, of
course, were numerous, including many curious,
sceptical railroad managers, few if any of whom except
Villard could see the slightest use for the new
motive power. There is, perhaps, some excuse for
such indifference. No men in the world have more
new inventions brought to them than railroad managers,
and this was the rankest kind of novelty. It
was not, indeed, until a year later, in May, 1881, that
the first regular road collecting fares was put in
operation--a little stretch of one and a half miles
from Berlin to Lichterfelde, with one miniature motorcar.
Edison was in reality doing some heavy electric-
railway engineering, his apparatus full of ideas,
suggestions, prophecies; but to the operators of long
trunk lines it must have seemed utterly insignificant
and "excellent fooling."

Speaking of this situation, Mr. Edison says: "One
day Frank Thomson, the President of the Pennsylvania
Railroad, came out to see the electric light and
the electric railway in operation. The latter was then
about a mile long. He rode on it. At that time I
was getting out plans to make an electric locomotive
of three hundred horse-power with six-foot drivers,
with the idea of showing people that they could
dispense with their steam locomotives. Mr. Thomson
made the objection that it was impracticable, and
that it would be impossible to supplant steam. His
great experience and standing threw a wet blanket
on my hopes. But I thought he might perhaps be
mistaken, as there had been many such instances
on record. I continued to work on the plans, and
about three years later I started to build the locomotive
at the works at Goerck Street, and had it about
finished when I was switched off on some other work.
One of the reasons why I felt the electric railway to
be eminently practical was that Henry Villard, the
President of the Northern Pacific, said that one of
the greatest things that could be done would be to
build right-angle feeders into the wheat-fields of
Dakota and bring in the wheat to the main lines,
as the farmers then had to draw it from forty to
eighty miles. There was a point where it would not
pay to raise it at all; and large areas of the country
were thus of no value. I conceived the idea of building
a very light railroad of narrow gauge, and had
got all the data as to the winds on the plains, and
found that it would be possible with very large windmills
to supply enough power to drive those wheat
trains."

Among others who visited the little road at this
juncture were persons interested in the Manhattan
Elevated system of New York, on which experiments
were repeatedly tried later, but which was not destined
to adopt a method so obviously well suited to
all the conditions until after many successful
demonstrations had been made on elevated roads elsewhere.
It must be admitted that Mr. Edison was not very
profoundly impressed with the desire entertained in
that quarter to utilize any improvement, for he
remarks: "When the Elevated Railroad in New York,
up Sixth Avenue, was started there was a great
clamor about the noise, and injunctions were threatened.
The management engaged me to make a report
on the cause of the noise. I constructed an
instrument that would record the sound, and set out
to make a preliminary report, but I found that they
never intended to do anything but let the people
complain."

It was upon the co-operation of Villard that Edison
fell back, and an agreement was entered into between
them on September 14, 1881, which provided that the
latter would "build two and a half miles of electric
railway at Menlo Park, equipped with three cars,
two locomotives, one for freight, and one for
passengers, capacity of latter sixty miles an hour.
Capacity freight engine, ten tons net freight; cost
of handling a ton of freight per mile per horse-power
to be less than ordinary locomotive.... If experiments
are successful, Villard to pay actual outlay in
experiments, and to treat with the Light Company
for the installation of at least fifty miles of electric
railroad in the wheat regions." Mr. Edison is authority
for the statement that Mr. Villard advanced between
$35,000 and $40,000, and that the work done
was very satisfactory; but it did not end at that
time in any practical results, as the Northern Pacific
went into the hands of a receiver, and Mr. Villard's
ability to help was hopelessly crippled. The directors
of the Edison Electric Light Company could not be
induced to have anything to do with the electric
railway, and Mr. Insull states that the money advanced
was treated by Mr. Edison as a personal loan and repaid
to Mr. Villard, for whom he had a high admiration
and a strong feeling of attachment. Mr. Insull says:
"Among the financial men whose close personal
friendship Edison enjoyed, I would mention Henry
Villard, who, I think, had a higher appreciation of
the possibilities of the Edison system than probably
any other man of his time in Wall Street. He dropped
out of the business at the time of the consolidation
of the Thomson-Houston Company with the Edison
General Electric Company; but from the earliest days
of the business, when it was in its experimental period,
when the Edison light and power system was but an
idea, down to the day of his death, Henry Villard continued
a strong supporter not only with his influence,
but with his money. He was the first capitalist to
back individually Edison's experiments in electric
railways."

In speaking of his relationships with Mr. Villard at
this time, Edison says: "When Villard was all broken
down, and in a stupor caused by his disasters in
connection with the Northern Pacific, Mrs. Villard sent
for me to come and cheer him up. It was very difficult
to rouse him from his despair and apathy, but
I talked about the electric light to him, and its
development, and told him that it would help him win
it all back and put him in his former position. Villard
made his great rally; he made money out of the electric
light; and he got back control of the Northern
Pacific. Under no circumstances can a hustler be
kept down. If he is only square, he is bound to get
back on his feet. Villard has often been blamed and
severely criticised, but he was not the only one to
blame. His engineers had spent $20,000,000 too
much in building the road, and it was not his fault
if he found himself short of money, and at that time
unable to raise any more."

Villard maintained his intelligent interest in electric-
railway development, with regard to which Edison
remarks: "At one time Mr. Villard got the idea that
he would run the mountain division of the Northern
Pacific Railroad by electricity. He asked me if it
could be done. I said: `Certainly, it is too easy for
me to undertake; let some one else do it.' He said:
`I want you to tackle the problem,' and he insisted
on it. So I got up a scheme of a third rail and shoe
and erected it in my yard here in Orange. When I
got it all ready, he had all his division engineers come
on to New York, and they came over here. I showed
them my plans, and the unanimous decision of the
engineers was that it was absolutely and utterly
impracticable. That system is on the New York Central
now, and was also used on the New Haven road in its
first work with electricity."

At this point it may be well to cite some other
statements of Edison as to kindred work, with which
he has not usually been associated in the public mind.
"In the same manner I had worked out for the Manhattan
Elevated Railroad a system of electric trains,
and had the control of each car centred at one place
--multiple control. This was afterward worked out
and made practical by Frank Sprague. I got up a
slot contact for street railways, and have a patent on
it--a sliding contact in a slot. Edward Lauterbach
was connected with the Third Avenue Railroad in
New York--as counsel--and I told him he was mak-
ing a horrible mistake putting in the cable. I told
him to let the cable stand still and send electricity
through it, and he would not have to move hundreds
of tons of metal all the time. He would rue the day
when he put the cable in." It cannot be denied that
the prophecy was fulfilled, for the cable was the beginning
of the frightful financial collapse of the system,
and was torn out in a few years to make way for the
triumphant "trolley in the slot."

Incidental glimpses of this work are both amusing
and interesting. Hughes, who was working on the
experimental road with Mr. Edison, tells the following
story: "Villard sent J. C. Henderson, one of his
mechanical engineers, to see the road when it was in
operation, and we went down one day--Edison,
Henderson, and I--and went on the locomotive. Edison
ran it, and just after we started there was a
trestle sixty feet long and seven feet deep, and Edison
put on all the power. When we went over it we must
have been going forty miles an hour, and I could see
the perspiration come out on Henderson. After we
got over the trestle and started on down the track,
Henderson said: `When we go back I will walk. If
there is any more of that kind of running I won't be
in it myself.' " To the correspondence of Grosvenor
P. Lowrey we are indebted for a similar reminiscence,
under date of June 5, 1880: "Goddard and I have
spent a part of the day at Menlo, and all is glorious.
I have ridden at forty miles an hour on Mr. Edison's
electric railway--and we ran off the track. I protested
at the rate of speed over the sharp curves,
designed to show the power of the engine, but Edison
said they had done it often. Finally, when the last
trip was to be taken, I said I did not like it, but would
go along. The train jumped the track on a short
curve, throwing Kruesi, who was driving the engine,
with his face down in the dirt, and another man in a
comical somersault through some underbrush. Edison
was off in a minute, jumping and laughing, and
declaring it a most beautiful accident. Kruesi got
up, his face bleeding and a good deal shaken; and I
shall never forget the expression of voice and face
in which he said, with some foreign accent: `Oh!
yes, pairfeckly safe.' Fortunately no other hurts
were suffered, and in a few minutes we had the train
on the track and running again."

All this rough-and-ready dealing with grades and
curves was not mere horse-play, but had a serious purpose
underlying it, every trip having its record as to
some feature of defect or improvement. One particular
set of experiments relating to such work was
made on behalf of visitors from South America, and
were doubtless the first tests of the kind made for
that continent, where now many fine electric street
and interurban railway systems are in operation.
Mr. Edison himself supplies the following data:
"During the electric-railway experiments at Menlo
Park, we had a short spur of track up one of the
steep gullies. The experiment came about in this
way. Bogota, the capital of Columbia, is reached
on muleback--or was--from Honda on the headwaters
of the Magdalena River. There were parties
who wanted to know if transportation over the mule
route could not be done by electricity. They said the
grades were excessive, and it would cost too much to
do it with steam locomotives, even if they could
climb the grades. I said: `Well, it can't be much
more than 45 per cent.; we will try that first. If it
will do that it will do anything else.' I started at
45 per cent. I got up an electric locomotive with a
grip on the rail by which it went up the 45 per cent.
grade. Then they said the curves were very short.
I put the curves in. We started the locomotive with
nobody on it, and got up to twenty miles an hour,
taking those curves of very short radius; but it was
weeks before we could prevent it from running off.
We had to bank the tracks up to an angle of thirty
degrees before we could turn the curve and stay on.
These Spanish parties were perfectly satisfied we could
put in an electric railway from Honda to Bogota
successfully, and then they disappeared. I have never
seen them since. As usual, I paid for the experiment."

In the spring of 1883 the Electric Railway Company
of America was incorporated in the State of
New York with a capital of $2,000,000 to develop
the patents and inventions of Edison and Stephen
D. Field, to the latter of whom the practical work of
active development was confided, and in June of the
same year an exhibit was made at the Chicago Railway
Exposition, which attracted attention throughout
the country, and did much to stimulate the growing
interest in electric-railway work. With the aid
of Messrs. F. B. Rae, C. L. Healy, and C. O. Mailloux
a track and locomotive were constructed for the company
by Mr. Field and put in service in the gallery
of the main exhibition building. The track curved
sharply at either end on a radius of fifty-six feet, and
the length was about one-third of a mile. The locomotive
named "The Judge," after Justice Field, an
uncle of Stephen D. Field, took current from a central
rail between the two outer rails, that were the return
circuit, the contact being a rubbing wire brush on
each side of the "third rail," answering the same purpose
as the contact shoe of later date. The locomotive
weighed three tons, was twelve feet long, five
feet wide, and made a speed of nine miles an hour
with a trailer car for passengers. Starting on June
5th, when the exhibition closed on June 23d this tiny
but typical road had operated for over 118 hours, had
made over 446 miles, and had carried 26,805 passengers.
After the exposition closed the outfit was
taken during the same year to the exposition at
Louisville, Kentucky, where it was also successful,
carrying a large number of passengers. It deserves
note that at Chicago regular railway tickets were
issued to paying passengers, the first ever employed
on American electric railways.

With this modest but brilliant demonstration, to
which the illustrious names of Edison and Field were
attached, began the outburst of excitement over
electric railways, very much like the eras of speculation
and exploitation that attended only a few years
earlier the introduction of the telephone and the
electric light, but with such significant results that
the capitalization of electric roads in America is now
over $4,000,000,000, or twice as much as that of the
other two arts combined. There was a tremendous
rush into the electric-railway field after 1883, and an
outburst of inventive activity that has rarely, if ever,
been equalled. It is remarkable that, except Siemens,
no European achieved fame in this early work, while
from America the ideas and appliances of Edison,
Van Depoele, Sprague, Field, Daft, and Short have
been carried and adopted all over the world.

Mr. Edison was consulting electrician for the
Electric Railway Company, but neither a director
nor an executive officer. Just what the trouble was
as to the internal management of the corporation it
is hard to determine a quarter of a century later; but
it was equipped with all essential elements to dominate
an art in which after its first efforts it remained
practically supine and useless, while other interests
forged ahead and reaped both the profit and the glory.
Dissensions arose between the representatives of the
Field and Edison interests, and in April, 1890, the
Railway Company assigned its rights to the Edison
patents to the Edison General Electric Company,
recently formed by the consolidation of all the
branches of the Edison light, power, and manufacturing
industry under one management. The only
patent rights remaining to the Railway Company
were those under three Field patents, one of which,
with controlling claims, was put in suit June, 1890,
against the Jamaica & Brooklyn Road Company, a
customer of the Edison General Electric Company.
This was, to say the least, a curious and anomalous
situation. Voluminous records were made by both
parties to the suit, and in the spring of 1894 the case
was argued before the late Judge Townsend, who wrote
a long opinion dismissing the bill of complaint.[15] The
student will find therein a very complete and careful
study of the early electric-railway art. After this
decision was rendered, the Electric Railway Company
remained for several years in a moribund condition,
and on the last day of 1896 its property was placed
in the hands of a receiver. In February of 1897 the
receiver sold the three Field patents to their original
owner, and he in turn sold them to the Westinghouse
Electric and Manufacturing Company. The Railway
Company then went into voluntary dissolution, a sad
example of failure to seize the opportunity at the
psychological moment, and on the part of the inventor
to secure any adequate return for years of
effort and struggle in founding one of the great arts.
Neither of these men was squelched by such a calamitous
result, but if there were not something of bitterness
in their feelings as they survey what has come
of their work, they would not be human.

As a matter of fact, Edison retained a very lively
interest in electric-railway progress long after the
pregnant days at Menlo Park, one of the best evidences
of which is an article in the New York Electrical
Engineer of November 18, 1891, which describes
some important and original experiments in the direction
of adapting electrical conditions to the larger
cities. The overhead trolley had by that time begun
its victorious career, but there was intense hostility
displayed toward it in many places because of the
inevitable increase in the number of overhead wires,
which, carrying, as they did, a current of high voltage
and large quantity, were regarded as a menace to life
and property. Edison has always manifested a
strong objection to overhead wires in cities, and
urged placing them underground; and the outcry
against the overhead "deadly" trolley met with his
instant sympathy. His study of the problem brought
him to the development of the modern "substation,"
although the twists that later evolutions have given
the idea have left it scarcely recognizable.


[15] See 61 Fed. Rep. 655.


Mr. Villard, as President of the Edison General
Electric Company, requested Mr. Edison, as electrician
of the company, to devise a street-railway
system which should be applicable to the largest
cities where the use of the trolley would not be
permitted, where the slot conduit system would not be
used, and where, in general, the details of construction
should be reduced to the simplest form. The
limits imposed practically were such as to require that
the system should not cost more than a cable road to
install. Edison reverted to his ingenious lighting plan
of years earlier, and thus settled on a method by
which current should be conveyed from the power
plant at high potential to motor-generators placed
below the ground in close proximity to the rails.
These substations would convert the current received
at a pressure of, say, one thousand volts to one of
twenty volts available between rail and rail, with a
corresponding increase in the volume of the current.
With the utilization of heavy currents at low voltage
it became necessary, of course, to devise apparatus
which should be able to pick up with absolute certainty
one thousand amperes of current at this press-
ure through two inches of mud, if necessary. With
his wonted activity and fertility Edison set about
devising such a contact, and experimented with metal
wheels under all conditions of speed and track conditions.
It was several months before he could convey
one hundred amperes by means of such contacts,
but he worked out at last a satisfactory device which
was equal to the task. The next point was to secure a
joint between contiguous rails such as would permit of
the passage of several thousand amperes without
introducing undue resistance. This was also accomplished.

Objections were naturally made to rails out in the
open on the street surface carrying large currents at
a potential of twenty volts. It was said that vehicles
with iron wheels passing over the tracks and spanning
the two rails would short-circuit the current,
"chew" themselves up, and destroy the dynamos
generating the current by choking all that tremendous
amount of energy back into them. Edison tackled
the objection squarely and short-circuited his track
with such a vehicle, but succeeded in getting only
about two hundred amperes through the wheels, the
low voltage and the insulating properties of the axle-
grease being sufficient to account for such a result.
An iron bar was also used, polished, and with a man
standing on it to insure solid contact; but only one
thousand amperes passed through it--i.e., the amount
required by a single car, and, of course, much less than
the capacity of the generators able to operate a
system of several hundred cars.

Further interesting experiments showed that the
expected large leakage of current from the rails in
wet weather did not materialize. Edison found that
under the worst conditions with a wet and salted
track, at a potential difference of twenty volts
between the two rails, the extreme loss was only two
and one-half horse-power. In this respect the
phenomenon followed the same rule as that to which
telegraph wires are subject--namely, that the loss of
insulation is greater in damp, murky weather when
the insulators are covered with wet dust than during
heavy rains when the insulators are thoroughly
washed by the action of the water. In like manner
a heavy rain-storm cleaned the tracks from the
accumulations due chiefly to the droppings of the horses,
which otherwise served largely to increase the conductivity.
Of course, in dry weather the loss of current
was practically nothing, and, under ordinary
conditions, Edison held, his system was in respect to
leakage and the problems of electrolytic attack of
the current on adjacent pipes, etc., as fully insulated
as the standard trolley network of the day. The cost
of his system Mr. Edison placed at from $30,000 to
$100,000 per mile of double track, in accordance with
local conditions, and in this respect comparing very
favorably with the cable systems then so much in
favor for heavy traffic. All the arguments that could
be urged in support of this ingenious system are
tenable and logical at the present moment; but the
trolley had its way except on a few lines where the
conduit-and-shoe method was adopted; and in the
intervening years the volume of traffic created and
handled by electricity in centres of dense population
has brought into existence the modern subway.

But down to the moment of the preparation of this
biography, Edison has retained an active interest in
transportation problems, and his latest work has
been that of reviving the use of the storage battery
for street-car purposes. At one time there were a
number of storage-battery lines and cars in operation
in such cities as Washington, New York, Chicago,
and Boston; but the costs of operation and maintenance
were found to be inordinately high as compared
with those of the direct-supply methods, and the battery
cars all disappeared. The need for them under
many conditions remained, as, for example, in places
in Greater New York where the overhead trolley wires
are forbidden as objectionable, and where the ground
is too wet or too often submerged to permit of the
conduit with the slot. Some of the roads in Greater
New York have been anxious to secure such cars, and,
as usual, the most resourceful electrical engineer and
inventor of his times has made the effort. A special
experimental track has been laid at the Orange
laboratory, and a car equipped with the Edison storage
battery and other devices has been put under
severe and extended trial there and in New York.

Menlo Park, in ruin and decay, affords no traces of
the early Edison electric-railway work, but the crude
little locomotive built by Charles T. Hughes was rescued
from destruction, and has become the property of the
Pratt Institute, of Brooklyn, towhose thousands of
technical students it is a constant example and incentive.
It was loaned in 1904 to the Association of Edison
Illuminating Companies, and by it exhibited as part of the
historical Edison collection at the St. Louis Exposition.



EDISON
HIS LIFE AND INVENTIONS

CHAPTER XIX

MAGNETIC ORE MILLING WORK

DURING the Hudson-Fulton celebration of October,
1909, Burgomaster Van Leeuwen, of Amsterdam,
member of the delegation sent officially from
Holland to escort the Half Moon and participate in
the functions of the anniversary, paid a visit to the
Edison laboratory at Orange to see the inventor, who
may be regarded as pre-eminent among those of
Dutch descent in this country. Found, as usual, hard
at work--this time on his cement house, of which he
showed the iron molds--Edison took occasion to remark
that if he had achieved anything worth while,
it was due to the obstinacy and pertinacity he had
inherited from his forefathers. To which it may be
added that not less equally have the nature of
inheritance and the quality of atavism been exhibited
in his extraordinary predilection for the miller's art.
While those Batavian ancestors on the low shores of
the Zuyder Zee devoted their energies to grinding grain,
he has been not less assiduous than they in reducing
the rocks of the earth itself to flour.

Although this phase of Mr. Edison's diverse activities
is not as generally known to the world as many
others of a more popular character, the milling of
low-grade auriferous ores and the magnetic separation
of iron ores have been subjects of engrossing
interest and study to him for many years. Indeed,
his comparatively unknown enterprise of separating
magnetically and putting into commercial form low-
grade iron ore, as carried on at Edison, New Jersey,
proved to be the most colossal experiment that he
has ever made.

If a person qualified to judge were asked to answer
categorically as to whether or not that enterprise
was a failure, he could truthfully answer both yes
and no. Yes, in that circumstances over which Mr.
Edison had no control compelled the shutting down
of the plant at the very moment of success; and no,
in that the mechanically successful and commercially
practical results obtained, after the exercise of
stupendous efforts and the expenditure of a fortune, are
so conclusive that they must inevitably be the reliance
of many future iron-masters. In other words, Mr.
Edison was at least a quarter of a century ahead of
the times in the work now to be considered.

Before proceeding to a specific description of this
remarkable enterprise, however, let us glance at an
early experiment in separating magnetic iron sands
on the Atlantic sea-shore: "Some years ago I heard
one day that down at Quogue, Long Island, there
were immense deposits of black magnetic sand. This
would be very valuable if the iron could be separated
from the sand. So I went down to Quogue with one
of my assistants and saw there for miles large beds
of black sand on the beach in layers from one to six
inches thick--hundreds of thousands of tons. My
first thought was that it would be a very easy matter
to concentrate this, and I found I could sell the stuff
at a good price. I put up a small plant, but just as
I got it started a tremendous storm came up, and
every bit of that black sand went out to sea. During
the twenty-eight years that have intervened it has
never come back." This incident was really the prelude
to the development set forth in this chapter.

In the early eighties Edison became familiar with
the fact that the Eastern steel trade was suffering
a disastrous change, and that business was slowly
drifting westward, chiefly by reason of the discovery
and opening up of enormous deposits of high-grade
iron ore in the upper peninsula of Michigan. This
ore could be excavated very cheaply by means of
improved mining facilities, and transported at low
cost to lake ports. Hence the iron and steel mills
east of the Alleghanies--compelled to rely on limited
local deposits of Bessemer ore, and upon foreign ores
which were constantly rising in value--began to sustain
a serious competition with Western mills, even
in Eastern markets.

Long before this situation arose, it had been recognized
by Eastern iron-masters that sooner or later the
deposits of high-grade ore would be exhausted, and,
in consequence, there would ensue a compelling necessity
to fall back on the low-grade magnetic ores.
For many years it had been a much-discussed question
how to make these ores available for transporta-
tion to distant furnaces. To pay railroad charges on
ores carrying perhaps 80 to 90 per cent. of useless
material would be prohibitive. Hence the elimination
of the worthless "gangue" by concentration of
the iron particles associated with it, seemed to be
the only solution of the problem.

Many attempts had been made in by-gone days to
concentrate the iron in such ores by water processes,
but with only a partial degree of success. The
impossibility of obtaining a uniform concentrate was a
most serious objection, had there not indeed been
other difficulties which rendered this method commercially
impracticable. It is quite natural, therefore,
that the idea of magnetic separation should have
occurred to many inventors. Thus we find numerous
instances throughout the last century of experiments
along this line; and particularly in the last
forty or fifty years, during which various attempts
have been made by others than Edison to perfect
magnetic separation and bring it up to something
like commercial practice. At the time he took up
the matter, however, no one seems to have realized
the full meaning of the tremendous problems involved.

From 1880 to 1885, while still very busy in the
development of his electric-light system, Edison found
opportunity to plan crushing and separating machinery.
His first patent on the subject was applied
for and issued early in 1880. He decided, after
mature deliberation, that the magnetic separation of
low-grade ores on a colossal scale at a low cost was
the only practical way of supplying the furnaceman
with a high quality of iron ore. It was his opinion
that it was cheaper to quarry and concentrate lean
ore in a big way than to attempt to mine, under adverse
circumstances, limited bodies of high-grade ore.
He appreciated fully the serious nature of the gigantic
questions involved; and his plans were laid
with a view to exercising the utmost economy in the
design and operation of the plant in which he
contemplated the automatic handling of many thousands
of tons of material daily. It may be stated as broadly
true that Edison engineered to handle immense
masses of stuff automatically, while his predecessors
aimed chiefly at close separation.

Reduced to its barest, crudest terms, the proposition
of magnetic separation is simplicity itself. A
piece of the ore (magnetite) may be reduced to powder
and the ore particles separated therefrom by the
help of a simple hand magnet. To elucidate the basic
principle of Edison's method, let the crushed ore fall
in a thin stream past such a magnet. The magnetic
particles are attracted out of the straight line of the
falling stream, and being heavy, gravitate inwardly
and fall to one side of a partition placed below. The
non-magnetic gangue descends in a straight line to
the other side of the partition. Thus a complete
separation is effected.

Simple though the principle appears, it was in its
application to vast masses of material and in the
solving of great engineering problems connected
therewith that Edison's originality made itself manifest
in the concentrating works that he established
in New Jersey, early in the nineties. Not only did he
develop thoroughly the refining of the crushed ore, so
that after it had passed the four hundred and eighty
magnets in the mill, the concentrates came out finally
containing 91 to 93 per cent. of iron oxide, but he
also devised collateral machinery, methods and processes
all fundamental in their nature. These are
too numerous to specify in detail, as they extended
throughout the various ramifications of the plant, but
the principal ones are worthy of mention, such as:

          The giant rolls (for crushing).
          Intermediate rolls.
          Three-high rolls.
          Giant cranes (215 feet long span).
          Vertical dryer.
          Belt conveyors.
          Air separation.
          Mechanical separation of phosphorus.
          Briquetting.


That Mr. Edison's work was appreciated at the
time is made evident by the following extract from
an article describing the Edison plant, published in
The Iron Age of October 28, 1897; in which, after
mentioning his struggle with adverse conditions, it
says: "There is very little that is showy, from the
popular point of view, in the gigantic work which
Mr. Edison has done during these years, but to those
who are capable of grasping the difficulties encountered,
Mr. Edison appears in the new light of a brilliant
constructing engineer grappling with technical
and commercial problems of the highest order. His
genius as an inventor is revealed in many details of
the great concentrating plant.... But to our mind,
originality of the highest type as a constructor and
designer appears in the bold way in which he sweeps
aside accepted practice in this particular field and
attains results not hitherto approached. He pursues
methods in ore-dressing at which those who are
trained in the usual practice may well stand aghast.
But considering the special features of the problems
to be solved, his methods will be accepted as those
economically wise and expedient."

A cursory glance at these problems will reveal their
import. Mountains must be reduced to dust; all
this dust must be handled in detail, so to speak, and
from it must be separated the fine particles of iron
constituting only one-fourth or one-fifth of its mass;
and then this iron-ore dust must be put into such
shape that it could be commercially shipped and used.
One of the most interesting and striking investigations
made by Edison in this connection is worthy
of note, and may be related in his own words: "I
felt certain that there must be large bodies of magnetite
in the East, which if crushed and concentrated
would satisfy the wants of the Eastern furnaces for
steel-making. Having determined to investigate the
mountain regions of New Jersey, I constructed a very
sensitive magnetic needle, which would dip toward
the earth if brought over any considerable body of
magnetic iron ore. One of my laboratory assistants
went out with me and we visited many of the mines
of New Jersey, but did not find deposits of any magnitude.
One day, however, as we drove over a mountain
range, not known as iron-bearing land, I was astonished
to find that the needle was strongly attracted
and remained so; thus indicating that the whole mountain
was underlaid with vast bodies of magnetic ore.

"I knew it was a commercial problem to produce
high-grade Bessemer ore from these deposits, and
took steps to acquire a large amount of the property.
I also planned a great magnetic survey of the East,
and I believe it remains the most comprehensive of
its kind yet performed. I had a number of men survey
a strip reaching from Lower Canada to North
Carolina. The only instrument we used was the
special magnetic needle. We started in Lower Canada
and travelled across the line of march twenty-five
miles; then advanced south one thousand feet; then
back across the line of march again twenty-five miles;
then south another thousand feet, across again, and
so on. Thus we advanced all the way to North
Carolina, varying our cross-country march from two
to twenty-five miles, according to geological formation.
Our magnetic needle indicated the presence
and richness of the invisible deposits of magnetic ore.
We kept minute records of these indications, and
when the survey was finished we had exact information
of the deposits in every part of each State we
had passed through. We also knew the width, length,
and approximate depth of every one of these deposits,
which were enormous.

"The amount of ore disclosed by this survey was
simply fabulous. How much so may be judged from
the fact that in the three thousand acres immediately
surrounding the mills that I afterward established at
Edison there were over 200,000,000 tons of low-
grade ore. I also secured sixteen thousand acres in
which the deposit was proportionately as large.
These few acres alone contained sufficient ore to
supply the whole United States iron trade, including
exports, for seventy years."

Given a mountain of rock containing only one-fifth
to one-fourth magnetic iron, the broad problem confronting
Edison resolved itself into three distinct
parts--first, to tear down the mountain bodily and
grind it to powder; second, to extract from this
powder the particles of iron mingled in its mass;
and, third, to accomplish these results at a cost
sufficiently low to give the product a commercial
value.

Edison realized from the start that the true
solution of this problem lay in the continuous treatment
of the material, with the maximum employment
of natural forces and the minimum of manual labor
and generated power. Hence, all his conceptions
followed this general principle so faithfully and completely
that we find in the plant embodying his ideas
the forces of momentum and gravity steadily in harness
and keeping the traces taut; while there was no
touch of the human hand upon the material from the
beginning of the treatment to its finish--the staff being
employed mainly to keep watch on the correct working
of the various processes.

It is hardly necessary to devote space to the beginnings
of the enterprise, although they are full
of interest. They served, however, to convince
Edison that if he ever expected to carry out his
scheme on the extensive scale planned, he could not
depend upon the market to supply suitable machinery
for important operations, but would be obliged to
devise and build it himself. Thus, outside the steam-
shovel and such staple items as engines, boilers,
dynamos, and motors, all of the diverse and complex
machinery of the entire concentrating plant, as
subsequently completed, was devised by him especially
for the purpose. The necessity for this was due to the
many radical variations made from accepted methods.

No such departure was as radical as that of the
method of crushing the ore. Existing machinery for
this purpose had been designed on the basis of mining
methods then in vogue, by which the rock was
thoroughly shattered by means of high explosives and
reduced to pieces of one hundred pounds or less. These
pieces were then crushed by power directly applied. If
a concentrating mill, planned to treat five or six thousand
tons per day, were to be operated on this basis
the investment in crushers and the supply of power
would be enormous, to say nothing of the risk of
frequent breakdowns by reason of multiplicity of
machinery and parts. From a consideration of these
facts, and with his usual tendency to upset traditional
observances, Edison conceived the bold idea of
constructing gigantic rolls which, by the force of
momentum, would be capable of crushing individual
rocks of vastly greater size than ever before attempted.
He reasoned that the advantages thus obtained would
be fourfold: a minimum of machinery and parts;
greater compactness; a saving of power; and greater
economy in mining. As this last-named operation
precedes the crushing, let us first consider it as it
was projected and carried on by him.

Perhaps quarrying would be a better term than
mining in this case, as Edison's plan was to approach
the rock and tear it down bodily. The faith
that "moves mountains" had a new opportunity. In
work of this nature it had been customary, as above
stated, to depend upon a high explosive, such as
dynamite, to shatter and break the ore to lumps of
one hundred pounds or less. This, however, he
deemed to be a most uneconomical process, for energy
stored as heat units in dynamite at $260 per ton was
much more expensive than that of calories in a ton
of coal at $3 per ton. Hence, he believed that only
the minimum of work should be done with the costly
explosive; and, therefore, planned to use dynamite
merely to dislodge great masses of rock, and depended
upon the steam-shovel, operated by coal under the
boiler, to displace, handle, and remove the rock in
detail. This was the plan that was subsequently put
into practice in the great works at Edison, New Jersey.
A series of three-inch holes twenty feet deep were
drilled eight feet apart, about twelve feet back of the
ore-bank, and into these were inserted dynamite
cartridges. The blast would dislodge thirty to thirty-
five thousand tons of rock, which was scooped up by
great steam-shovels and loaded on to skips carried
by a line of cars on a narrow-gauge railroad running
to and from the crushing mill. Here the material
was automatically delivered to the giant rolls. The
problem included handling and crushing the "run
of the mine," without selection. The steam-shovel
did not discriminate, but picked up handily single
pieces weighing five or six tons and loaded them on
the skips with quantities of smaller lumps. When
the skips arrived at the giant rolls, their contents
were dumped automatically into a superimposed
hopper. The rolls were well named, for with ear-
splitting noise they broke up in a few seconds the great
pieces of rock tossed in from the skips.

It is not easy to appreciate to the full the daring
exemplified in these great crushing rolls, or rather
"rock-crackers," without having watched them in
operation delivering their "solar-plexus" blows. It
was only as one might stand in their vicinity and hear
the thunderous roar accompanying the smashing and
rending of the massive rocks as they disappeared from
view that the mind was overwhelmed with a sense
of the magnificent proportions of this operation. The
enormous force exerted during this process may be
illustrated from the fact that during its development,
in running one of the early forms of rolls,
pieces of rock weighing more than half a ton would
be shot up in the air to a height of twenty or twenty-
five feet.

The giant rolls were two solid cylinders, six feet in
diameter and five feet long, made of cast iron. To the
faces of these rolls were bolted a series of heavy,
chilled-iron plates containing a number of projecting
knobs two inches high. Each roll had also two rows
of four-inch knobs, intended to strike a series of
hammer-like blows. The rolls were set face to face
fourteen inches apart, in a heavy frame, and the total
weight was one hundred and thirty tons, of which
seventy tons were in moving parts. The space between
these two rolls allowed pieces of rock measuring
less than fourteen inches to descend to other smaller
rolls placed below. The giant rolls were belt-driven, in
opposite directions, through friction clutches, although
the belt was not depended upon for the actual crushing.
Previous to the dumping of a skip, the rolls were
speeded up to a circumferential velocity of nearly a
mile a minute, thus imparting to them the terrific
momentum that would break up easily in a few
seconds boulders weighing five or six tons each. It
was as though a rock of this size had got in the way
of two express trains travelling in opposite directions
at nearly sixty miles an hour. In other words, it was
the kinetic energy of the rolls that crumbled up the
rocks with pile-driver effect. This sudden strain
might have tended to stop the engine driving the
rolls; but by an ingenious clutch arrangement the
belt was released at the moment of resistance in the
rolls by reason of the rocks falling between them.
The act of breaking and crushing would naturally
decrease the tremendous momentum, but after the
rock was reduced and the pieces had passed through,
the belt would again come into play, and once more
speed up the rolls for a repetition of their regular
prize-fighter duty.

On leaving the giant rolls the rocks, having been reduced
to pieces not larger than fourteen inches, passed
into the series of "Intermediate Rolls" of similar
construction and operation, by which they were still
further reduced, and again passed on to three other
sets of rolls of smaller dimensions. These latter rolls
were also face-lined with chilled-iron plates; but, unlike
the larger ones, were positively driven, reducing
the rock to pieces of about one-half-inch size, or
smaller. The whole crushing operation of reduction
from massive boulders to small pebbly pieces having
been done in less time than the telling has occupied,
the product was conveyed to the "Dryer," a tower
nine feet square and fifty feet high, heated from below
by great open furnace fires. All down the inside
walls of this tower were placed cast-iron plates, nine
feet long and seven inches wide, arranged alternately
in "fish-ladder" fashion. The crushed rock, being delivered
at the top, would fall down from plate to plate,
constantly exposing different surfaces to the heat,
until it landed completely dried in the lower portion of
the tower, where it fell into conveyors which took it
up to the stock-house.

This method of drying was original with Edison.
At the time this adjunct to the plant was required,
the best dryer on the market was of a rotary type,
which had a capacity of only twenty tons per hour,
with the expenditure of considerable power. As
Edison had determined upon treating two hundred
and fifty tons or more per hour, he decided to devise
an entirely new type of great capacity, requiring a
minimum of power (for elevating the material), and
depending upon the force of gravity for handling it
during the drying process. A long series of experiments
resulted in the invention of the tower dryer
with a capacity of three hundred tons per hour.

The rock, broken up into pieces about the size of
marbles, having been dried and conveyed to the
stock-house, the surplusage was automatically carried
out from the other end of the stock-house by con-
veyors, to pass through the next process, by which it
was reduced to a powder. The machinery for accomplishing
this result represents another interesting and
radical departure of Edison from accepted usage. He
had investigated all the crushing-machines on the
market, and tried all he could get. He found them
all greatly lacking in economy of operation; indeed,
the highest results obtainable from the best were 18
per cent. of actual work, involving a loss of 82 per cent.
by friction. His nature revolted at such an immense
loss of power, especially as he proposed the crushing
of vast quantities of ore. Thus, he was obliged to
begin again at the foundation, and he devised a
crushing-machine which was subsequently named the
"Three-High Rolls," and which practically reversed
the above figures, as it developed 84 per cent. of work
done with only 16 per cent. loss in friction.

A brief description of this remarkable machine will
probably interest the reader. In the two end pieces
of a heavy iron frame were set three rolls, or cylinders
--one in the centre, another below, and the other
above--all three being in a vertical line. These rolls
were of cast iron three feet in diameter, having
chilled-iron smooth face-plates of considerable thickness.
The lowest roll was set in a fixed bearing at
the bottom of the frame, and, therefore, could only
turn around on its axis. The middle and top rolls
were free to move up or down from and toward the
lower roll, and the shafts of the middle and upper
rolls were set in a loose bearing which could slip up
and down in the iron frame. It will be apparent,
therefore, that any material which passed in between
the top and the middle rolls, and the middle and bottom
rolls, could be ground as fine as might be desired,
depending entirely upon the amount of pressure
applied to the loose rolls. In operation the material
passed first through the upper and middle rolls, and
then between the middle and lowest rolls.

This pressure was applied in a most ingenious manner.
On the ends of the shafts of the bottom and top
rolls there were cylindrical sleeves, or bearings, having
seven sheaves, in which was run a half-inch endless
wire rope. This rope was wound seven times over the
sheaves as above, and led upward and over a single-
groove sheave which was operated by the piston of
an air cylinder, and in this manner the pressure was
applied to the rolls. It will be seen, therefore, that
the system consisted in a single rope passed over
sheaves and so arranged that it could be varied in
length, thus providing for elasticity in exerting
pressure and regulating it as desired. The efficiency
of this system was incomparably greater than that
of any other known crusher or grinder, for while a
pressure of one hundred and twenty-five thousand
pounds could be exerted by these rolls, friction was
almost entirely eliminated because the upper and
lower roll bearings turned with the rolls and revolved
in the wire rope, which constituted the bearing proper.

The same cautious foresight exercised by Edison
in providing a safety device--the fuse--to prevent
fires in his electric-light system, was again displayed
in this concentrating plant, where, to save
possible injury to its expensive operating parts, he
devised an analogous factor, providing all the crush-
ing machinery with closely calculated "safety pins,"
which, on being overloaded, would shear off and thus
stop the machine at once.

The rocks having thus been reduced to fine powder,
the mass was ready for screening on its way to the
magnetic separators. Here again Edison reversed
prior practice by discarding rotary screens and devising
a form of tower screen, which, besides having
a very large working capacity by gravity, eliminated
all power except that required to elevate the material.
The screening process allowed the finest part of the
crushed rock to pass on, by conveyor belts, to the
magnetic separators, while the coarser particles were
in like manner automatically returned to the rolls for
further reduction.

In a narrative not intended to be strictly technical,
it would probably tire the reader to follow this material
in detail through the numerous steps attending
the magnetic separation. These may be seen in a
diagram reproduced from the above-named article
in the Iron Age, and supplemented by the following
extract from the Electrical Engineer, New York,
October 28, 1897: "At the start the weakest magnet
at the top frees the purest particles, and the second
takes care of others; but the third catches those to
which rock adheres, and will extract particles of
which only one-eighth is iron. This batch of material
goes back for another crushing, so that everything is
subjected to an equality of refining. We are now in
sight of the real `concentrates,' which are conveyed
to dryer No. 2 for drying again, and are then delivered
to the fifty-mesh screens. Whatever is fine enough
goes through to the eight-inch magnets, and the remainder
goes back for recrushing. Below the eight-
inch magnets the dust is blown out of the particles
mechanically, and they then go to the four-inch
magnets for final cleansing and separation.... Obviously,
at each step the percentage of felspar and
phosphorus is less and less until in the final concentrates
the percentage of iron oxide is 91 to 93 per cent.
As intimated at the outset, the tailings will be 75 per
cent. of the rock taken from the veins of ore, so that
every four tons of crude, raw, low-grade ore will have
yielded roughly one ton of high-grade concentrate
and three tons of sand, the latter also having its value
in various ways."

This sand was transported automatically by belt
conveyors to the rear of the works to be stored and
sold. Being sharp, crystalline, and even in quality,
it was a valuable by-product, finding a ready sale for
building purposes, railway sand-boxes, and various
industrial uses. The concentrate, in fine powdery
form, was delivered in similar manner to a stock-
house.

As to the next step in the process, we may now
quote again from the article in the Iron Age: "While
Mr. Edison and his associates were working on the
problem of cheap concentration of iron ore, an added
difficulty faced them in the preparation of the
concentrates for the market. Furnacemen object to more
than a very small proportion of fine ore in their
mixtures, particularly when the ore is magnetic, not
easily reduced. The problem to be solved was to
market an agglomerated material so as to avoid the
drawbacks of fine ore. The agglomerated product
must be porous so as to afford access of the furnace-
reducing gases to the ore. It must be hard enough
to bear transportation, and to carry the furnace burden
without crumbling to pieces. It must be waterproof,
to a certain extent, because considerations
connected with securing low rates of freight make it
necessary to be able to ship the concentrates to market
in open coal cars, exposed to snow and rain. In
many respects the attainment of these somewhat conflicting
ends was the most perplexing of the problems
which confronted Mr. Edison. The agglomeration of
the concentrates having been decided upon, two other
considerations, not mentioned above, were of primary
importance--first, to find a suitable cheap binding
material; and, second, its nature must be such that
very little would be necessary per ton of concentrates.
These severe requirements were staggering,
but Mr. Edison's courage did not falter. Although
it seemed a well-nigh hopeless task, he entered upon
the investigation with his usual optimism and vim.
After many months of unremitting toil and research,
and the trial of thousands of experiments, the goal was
reached in the completion of a successful formula for
agglomerating the fine ore and pressing it into briquettes
by special machinery."

This was the final process requisite for the making
of a completed commercial product. Its practice, of
course, necessitated the addition of an entirely new
department of the works, which was carried into
effect by the construction and installation of the novel
mixing and briquetting machinery, together with ex-
tensions of the conveyors, with which the plant had
already been liberally provided.

Briefly described, the process consisted in mixing
the concentrates with the special binding material in
machines of an entirely new type, and in passing the
resultant pasty mass into the briquetting machines,
where it was pressed into cylindrical cakes three
inches in diameter and one and a half inches thick,
under successive pressures of 7800, 14,000, and 60,000
pounds. Each machine made these briquettes at the
rate of sixty per minute, and dropped them into
bucket conveyors by which they were carried into
drying furnaces, through which they made five loops,
and were then delivered to cross-conveyors which
carried them into the stock-house. At the end of
this process the briquettes were so hard that they
would not break or crumble in loading on the cars or
in transportation by rail, while they were so porous
as to be capable of absorbing 26 per cent. of their own
volume in alcohol, but repelling water absolutely--
perfect "old soaks."

Thus, with never-failing persistence and patience,
coupled with intense thought and hard work,
Edison met and conquered, one by one, the complex
difficulties that confronted him. He succeeded in
what he had set out to do, and it is now to be noted
that the product he had striven so sedulously to obtain
was a highly commercial one, for not only did
the briquettes of concentrated ore fulfil the purpose
of their creation, but in use actually tended to increase
the working capacity of the furnace, as the
following test, quoted from the Iron Age, October
28, 1897, will attest: " The only trial of any magnitude
of the briquettes in the blast-furnace was carried
through early this year at the Crane Iron Works,
Catasauqua, Pennsylvania, by Leonard Peckitt.

"The furnace at which the test was made produces
from one hundred to one hundred and ten tons per
day when running on the ordinary mixture. The
charging of briquettes was begun with a percentage
of 25 per cent., and was carried up to 100 per cent.
The following is the record of the results:

RESULTS OF WORKING BRIQUETTES AT THE CRANE FURNACE
                Quantity of                       Phos-             Man-
Date             Briquette      Tons     Silica   phorus   Sulphur  ganese
                  Working
                 Per Cent.
January 5th          25        104        2.770    0.830    0.018    0.500
January 6th          37 1/2  4 1/2     2.620    0 740    0.018    0.350
January 7th          50        138 1/2   2.572    0.580    0.015    0.200
January 8th          75        119        1.844    0.264    0.022    0.200
January 9th         100        138 1/2   1.712    0.147    0.038    0.185


"On the 9th, at 5 P.M., the briquettes having been
nearly exhausted, the percentage was dropped to
25 per cent., and on the 10th the output dropped to
120 tons, and on the 11th the furnace had resumed
the usual work on the regular standard ores.

"These figures prove that the yield of the furnace
is considerably increased. The Crane trial was too
short to settle the question to what extent the increase
in product may be carried. This increase in
output, of course, means a reduction in the cost of
labor and of general expenses.

"The richness of the ore and its purity of course
affect the limestone consumption. In the case of the
Crane trial there was a reduction from 30 per cent. to
12 per cent. of the ore charge.

"Finally, the fuel consumption is reduced, which
in the case of the Eastern plants, with their relatively
costly coke, is a very important consideration. It is
regarded as possible that Eastern furnaces will be
able to use a smaller proportion of the costlier coke
and correspondingly increase in anthracite coal, which
is a cheaper fuel in that section. So far as foundry
iron is concerned, the experience at Catasauqua,
Pennsylvania, brief as it has been, shows that a
stronger and tougher metal is made."

Edison himself tells an interesting little story in
this connection, when he enjoyed the active help of
that noble character, John Fritz, the distinguished
inventor and pioneer of the modern steel industry in
America. He says: "When I was struggling along
with the iron-ore concentration, I went to see several
blast-furnace men to sell the ore at the market price.
They saw I was very anxious to sell it, and they would
take advantage of my necessity. But I happened to
go to Mr. John Fritz, of the Bethlehem Steel Company,
and told him what I was doing. `Well,' he
said to me, `Edison, you are doing a good thing for
the Eastern furnaces. They ought to help you, for
it will help us out. I am willing to help you. I mix
a little sentiment with business, and I will give you
an order for one hundred thousand tons.' And he
sat right down and gave me the order."

The Edison concentrating plant has been sketched
in the briefest outline with a view of affording merely
a bare idea of the great work of its projector. To tell
the whole story in detail and show its logical sequence,
step by step, would take little less than a volume in
itself, for Edison's methods, always iconoclastic
when progress is in sight, were particularly so at the
period in question. It has been said that "Edison's
scrap-heap contains the elements of a liberal education,"
and this was essentially true of the "discard"
during the ore-milling experience. Interesting as it
might be to follow at length the numerous phases of
ingenious and resourceful development that took
place during those busy years, the limit of present
space forbids their relation. It would, however, be
denying the justice that is Edison's due to omit all
mention of two hitherto unnamed items in particular
that have added to the world's store of useful devices.
We refer first to the great travelling hoisting-crane
having a span of two hundred and fifteen feet, and
used for hoisting loads equal to ten tons, this being the
largest of the kind made up to that time, and afterward
used as a model by many others. The second item was
the ingenious and varied forms of conveyor belt,
devised and used by Edison at the concentrating
works, and subsequently developed into a separate
and extensive business by an engineer to whom he
gave permission to use his plans and patterns.

Edison's native shrewdness and knowledge of human
nature was put to practical use in the busy days
of plant construction. It was found impossible to
keep mechanics on account of indifferent residential
accommodations afforded by the tiny village, remote
from civilization, among the central mountains of
New Jersey. This puzzling question was much discussed
between him and his associate, Mr. W. S.
Mallory, until finally he said to the latter: "If we
want to keep the men here we must make it attractive
for the women--so let us build some houses that
will have running water and electric lights, and rent
at a low rate." He set to work, and in a day finished
a design for a type of house. Fifty were quickly built
and fully described in advertising for mechanics.
Three days' advertisements brought in over six hundred
and fifty applications, and afterward Edison had no
trouble in obtaining all the first-class men he required,
as settlers in the artificial Yosemite he was creating.

We owe to Mr. Mallory a characteristic story of this
period as to an incidental unbending from toil, which
in itself illustrates the ever-present determination to
conquer what is undertaken: "Along in the latter
part of the nineties, when the work on the problem
of concentrating iron ore was in progress, it became
necessary when leaving the plant at Edison to wait
over at Lake Hopatcong one hour for a connecting
train. During some of these waits Mr. Edison had
seen me play billiards. At the particular time this
incident happened, Mrs. Edison and her family were
away for the summer, and I was staying at the Glenmont
home on the Orange Mountains.

"One hot Saturday night, after Mr. Edison had
looked over the evening papers, he said to me: `Do
you want to play a game of billiards?' Naturally this
astonished me very much, as he is a man who cares
little or nothing for the ordinary games, with the single
exception of parcheesi, of which he is very fond. I said
I would like to play, so we went up into the billiard-
room of the house. I took off the cloth, got out the
balls, picked out a cue for Mr. Edison, and when we
banked for the first shot I won and started the game.
After making two or three shots I missed, and a long
carom shot was left for Mr. Edison, the cue ball and
object ball being within about twelve inches of each
other, and the other ball a distance of nearly the
length of the table. Mr. Edison attempted to make
the shot, but missed it and said `Put the balls back.'
So I put them back in the same position and he missed
it the second time. I continued at his request to put
the balls back in the same position for the next
fifteen minutes, until he could make the shot every
time--then he said: `I don't want to play any
more.' "

Having taken a somewhat superficial survey of
the great enterprise under consideration; having had
a cursory glance at the technical development of the
plant up to the point of its successful culmination
in the making of a marketable, commercial product
as exemplified in the test at the Crane Furnace, let
us revert to that demonstration and note the events
that followed. The facts of this actual test are far
more eloquent than volumes of argument would be
as a justification of Edison's assiduous labors for over
eight years, and of the expenditure of a fortune in
bringing his broad conception to a concrete possibility.
In the patient solving of tremendous problems
he had toiled up the mountain-side of success--
scaling its topmost peak and obtaining a view of the
boundless prospect. But, alas! "The best laid plans
o' mice and men gang aft agley." The discovery of
great deposits of rich Bessemer ore in the Mesaba
range of mountains in Minnesota a year or two previous
to the completion of his work had been followed
by the opening up of those deposits and the marketing
of the ore. It was of such rich character that, being
cheaply mined by greatly improved and inexpensive
methods, the market price of crude ore of like iron
units fell from about $6.50 to $3.50 per ton at the
time when Edison was ready to supply his concentrated
product. At the former price he could have
supplied the market and earned a liberal profit on
his investment, but at $3.50 per ton he was left without
a reasonable chance of competition. Thus was
swept away the possibility of reaping the reward so
richly earned by years of incessant thought, labor,
and care. This great and notable plant, representing
a very large outlay of money, brought to completion,
ready for business, and embracing some of
the most brilliant and remarkable of Edison's
inventions and methods, must be abandoned by force
of circumstances over which he had no control, and
with it must die the high hopes that his progressive,
conquering march to success had legitimately engendered.

The financial aspect of these enterprises is often
overlooked and forgotten. In this instance it was
of more than usual import and seriousness, as Edison
was virtually his own "backer," putting into the
company almost the whole of all the fortune his
inventions had brought him. There is a tendency to
deny to the capital that thus takes desperate chances
its full reward if things go right, and to insist that it
shall have barely the legal rate of interest and far less
than the return of over-the-counter retail trade. It
is an absolute fact that the great electrical inventors
and the men who stood behind them have had little return
for their foresight and courage. In this instance,
when the inventor was largely his own financier, the
difficulties and perils were redoubled. Let Mr. Mallory
give an instance: "During the latter part of the
panic of 1893 there came a period when we were
very hard up for ready cash, due largely to the panicky
conditions; and a large pay-roll had been raised with
considerable difficulty. A short time before pay-day
our treasurer called me up by telephone, and said:
`I have just received the paid checks from the bank,
and I am fearful that my assistant, who has forged
my name to some of the checks, has absconded with
about $3000.' I went immediately to Mr. Edison
and told him of the forgery and the amount of money
taken, and in what an embarrassing position we
were for the next pay-roll. When I had finished
he said: `It is too bad the money is gone, but
I will tell you what to do. Go and see the president
of the bank which paid the forged checks. Get him
to admit the bank's liability, and then say to him
that Mr. Edison does not think the bank should
suffer because he happened to have a dishonest clerk
in his employ. Also say to him that I shall not ask
them to make the amount good.' This was done;
the bank admitting its liability and being much
pleased with this action. When I reported to Mr.
Edison he said: `That's all right. We have made a
friend of the bank, and we may need friends later
on.' And so it happened that some time afterward,
when we greatly needed help in the way of loans,
the bank willingly gave us the accommodations we
required to tide us over a critical period."

This iron-ore concentrating project had lain close
to Edison's heart and ambition--indeed, it had permeated
his whole being to the exclusion of almost
all other investigations or inventions for a while.
For five years he had lived and worked steadily at
Edison, leaving there only on Saturday night to
spend Sunday at his home in Orange, and returning
to the plant by an early train on Monday morning.
Life at Edison was of the simple kind--work, meals,
and a few hours' sleep--day by day. The little village,
called into existence by the concentrating works,
was of the most primitive nature and offered nothing
in the way of frivolity or amusement. Even the
scenery is austere. Hence Edison was enabled to
follow his natural bent in being surrounded day
and night by his responsible chosen associates, with
whom he worked uninterrupted by outsiders from
early morning away into the late hours of the evening.
Those who were laboring with him, inspired by
his unflagging enthusiasm, followed his example and
devoted all their long waking hours to the furtherance
of his plans with a zeal that ultimately bore
fruit in the practical success here recorded.

In view of its present status, this colossal enterprise
at Edison may well be likened to the prologue
of a play that is to be subsequently enacted for the
benefit of future generations, but before ringing
down the curtain it is desirable to preserve the unities
by quoting the words of one of the principal actors,
Mr. Mallory, who says: "The Concentrating Works
had been in operation, and we had produced a considerable
quantity of the briquettes, and had been
able to sell only a portion of them, the iron market
being in such condition that blast-furnaces were not
making any new purchases of iron ore, and were
having difficulty to receive and consume the ores
which had been previously contracted for, so what
sales we were able to make were at extremely low
prices, my recollection being that they were between
$3.50 and $3.80 per ton, whereas when the works had
started we had hoped to obtain $6.00 to $6.50 per ton
for the briquettes. We had also thoroughly
investigated the wonderful deposit at Mesaba, and it
was with the greatest possible reluctance that Mr.
Edison was able to come finally to the conclusion
that, under existing conditions, the concentrating
plant could not then be made a commercial success.
This decision was reached only after the most careful
investigations and calculations, as Mr. Edison was
just as full of fight and ambition to make it a success
as when he first started.

"When this decision was reached Mr. Edison and
I took the Jersey Central train from Edison, bound
for Orange, and I did not look forward to the immediate
future with any degree of confidence, as the
concentrating plant was heavily in debt, without any
early prospect of being able to pay off its indebtedness.
On the train the matter of the future was discussed,
and Mr. Edison said that, inasmuch as we had the
knowledge gained from our experience in the concentrating
problem, we must, if possible, apply it to
some practical use, and at the same time we must
work out some other plans by which we could make
enough money to pay off the Concentrating Company's
indebtedness, Mr. Edison stating most positively
that no company with which he had personally
been actively connected had ever failed to pay its
debts, and he did not propose to have the Concentrating
Company any exception.

"In the discussion that followed he suggested several
kinds of work which he had in his mind, and
which might prove profitable. We figured carefully
over the probabilities of financial returns from the
Phonograph Works and other enterprises, and after
discussing many plans, it was finally decided that we
would apply the knowledge we had gained in the
concentrating plant by building a plant for manufacturing
Portland cement, and that Mr. Edison would
devote his attention to the developing of a storage
battery which did not use lead and sulphuric acid.
So these two lines of work were taken up by Mr.
Edison with just as much enthusiasm and energy as
is usual with him, the commercial failure of the
concentrating plant seeming not to affect his spirits in
any way. In fact, I have often been impressed
strongly with the fact that, during the dark days of
the concentrating problem, Mr. Edison's desire was
very strong that the creditors of the Concentrating
Works should be paid in full; and only once did I
hear him make any reference to the financial loss
which he himself made, and he then said: `As far as
I am concerned, I can any time get a job at $75 per
month as a telegrapher, and that will amply take
care of all my personal requirements.' As already
stated, however, he started in with the maximum
amount of enthusiasm and ambition, and in the course
of about three years we succeeded in paying off all
the indebtedness of the Concentrating Works, which
amounted to several hundred thousand dollars.

"As to the state of Mr. Edison's mind when the
final decision was reached to close down, if he was
specially disappointed, there was nothing in his manner
to indicate it, his every thought being for the
future, and as to what could be done to pull us out
of the financial situation in which we found ourselves,
and to take advantage of the knowledge which we had
acquired at so great a cost."

It will have been gathered that the funds for this
great experiment were furnished largely by Edison.
In fact, over two million dollars were spent in the
attempt. Edison's philosophic view of affairs is given
in the following anecdote from Mr. Mallory: "During
the boom times of 1902, when the old General Electric
stock sold at its high-water mark of about $330,
Mr. Edison and I were on our way from the cement
plant at New Village, New Jersey, to his home at
Orange. When we arrived at Dover, New Jersey,
we got a New York newspaper, and I called his attention
to the quotation of that day on General Electric.
Mr. Edison then asked: `If I hadn't sold any of mine,
what would it be worth to-day?' and after some figuring
I replied: `Over four million dollars.' When Mr.
Edison is thinking seriously over a problem he is in
the habit of pulling his right eyebrow, which he did
now for fifteen or twenty seconds. Then his face
lighted up, and he said: `Well, it's all gone, but we
had a hell of a good time spending it.' " With which
revelation of an attitude worthy of Mark Tapley himself,
this chapter may well conclude.



CHAPTER XX

EDISON PORTLAND CEMENT

NEW developments in recent years have been more
striking than the general adoption of cement
for structural purposes of all kinds in the United
States; or than the increase in its manufacture here.
As a material for the construction of office buildings,
factories, and dwellings, it has lately enjoyed an
extraordinary vogue; yet every indication is
confirmatory of the belief that such use has barely begun.
Various reasons may be cited, such as the growing
scarcity of wood, once the favorite building material
in many parts of the country, and the increasing dearness
of brick and stone. The fact remains, indisputable,
and demonstrated flatly by the statistics
of production. In 1902 the American output of
cement was placed at about 21,000,000 barrels, valued
at over $17,000,000. In 1907 the production is given
as nearly 49,000,000 barrels. Here then is an
industry that doubled in five years. The average rate
of industrial growth in the United States is 10 per
cent. a year, or doubling every ten years. It is a
singular fact that electricity also so far exceeds the
normal rate as to double in value and quantity of
output and investment every five years. There is
perhaps more than ordinary coincidence in the as-
sociation of Edison with two such active departments
of progress.

As a purely manufacturing business the general
cement industry is one of even remote antiquity, and
if Edison had entered into it merely as a commercial
enterprise by following paths already so well
trodden, the fact would hardly have been worthy of
even passing notice. It is not in his nature, however,
to follow a beaten track except in regard to the
recognition of basic principles; so that while the
manufacture of Edison Portland cement embraces the
main essentials and familiar processes of cement-
making, such as crushing, drying, mixing, roasting,
and grinding, his versatility and originality, as
exemplified in the conception and introduction of some
bold and revolutionary methods and devices, have
resulted in raising his plant from the position of an
outsider to the rank of the fifth largest producer in
the United States, in the short space of five years
after starting to manufacture.

Long before his advent in cement production,
Edison had held very pronounced views on the value
of that material as the one which would obtain largely
for future building purposes on account of its stability.
More than twenty-five years ago one of the writers of
this narrative heard him remark during a discussion
on ancient buildings: "Wood will rot, stone will chip
and crumble, bricks disintegrate, but a cement and
iron structure is apparently indestructible. Look at
some of the old Roman baths. They are as solid as
when they were built." With such convictions, and
the vast fund of practical knowledge and experience
he had gained at Edison in the crushing and manipulation
of large masses of magnetic iron ore during the
preceding nine years, it is not surprising that on that
homeward railway journey, mentioned at the close
of the preceding chapter, he should have decided to
go into the manufacture of cement, especially in view
of the enormous growth of its use for structural purposes
during recent times.

The field being a new one to him, Edison followed
his usual course of reading up every page of
authoritative literature on the subject, and seeking
information from all quarters. In the mean time,
while he was busy also with his new storage battery,
Mr. Mallory, who had been hard at work on the
cement plan, announced that he had completed
arrangements for organizing a company with sufficient
financial backing to carry on the business; concluding
with the remark that it was now time to engage
engineers to lay out the plant. Edison replied
that he intended to do that himself, and invited Mr.
Mallory to go with him to one of the draughting-
rooms on an upper floor of the laboratory.

Here he placed a large sheet of paper on a draughting-
table, and immediately began to draw out a plan
of the proposed works, continuing all day and away
into the evening, when he finished; thus completing
within the twenty-four hours the full lay-out of the
entire plant as it was subsequently installed, and as
it has substantially remained in practical use to this
time. It will be granted that this was a remarkable
engineering feat, especially in view of the fact that
Edison was then a new-comer in the cement busi-
ness, and also that if the plant were to be rebuilt
to-day, no vital change would be desirable or
necessary. In that one day's planning every part
was considered and provided for, from the crusher to
the packing-house. From one end to the other, the
distance over which the plant stretches in length is
about half a mile, and through the various buildings
spread over this space there passes, automatically,
in course of treatment, a vast quantity of material
resulting in the production of upward of two and a
quarter million pounds of finished cement every
twenty-four hours, seven days in the week.

In that one day's designing provision was made not
only for all important parts, but minor details, such,
for instance, as the carrying of all steam, water, and
air pipes, and electrical conductors in a large subway
running from one end of the plant to the other; and,
an oiling system for the entire works. This latter
deserves special mention, not only because of its
arrangement for thorough lubrication, but also on
account of the resultant economy affecting the cost
of manufacture.

Edison has strong convictions on the liberal
use of lubricants, but argued that in the ordinary
oiling of machinery there is great waste, while much
dirt is conveyed into the bearings. He therefore
planned a system by which the ten thousand bearings
in the plant are oiled automatically; requiring the
services of only two men for the entire work. This
is accomplished by a central pumping and filtering
plant and the return of the oil from all parts of the
works by gravity. Every bearing is made dust-
proof, and is provided with two interior pipes. One
is above and the other below the bearing. The oil
flows in through the upper pipe, and, after lubricating
the shaft, flows out through the lower pipe back to
the pumping station, where any dirt is filtered out and
the oil returned to circulation. While this system of
oiling is not unique, it was the first instance of its
adaptation on so large and complete a scale, and
illustrates the far-sightedness of his plans.

In connection with the adoption of this lubricating
system there occurred another instance of his knowledge
of materials and intuitive insight into the nature
of things. He thought that too frequent circulation
of a comparatively small quantity of oil would, to
some extent, impair its lubricating qualities, and
requested his assistants to verify this opinion by
consultation with competent authorities. On making
inquiry of the engineers of the Standard Oil Company,
his theory was fully sustained. Hence, provision
was made for carrying a large stock of oil, and
for giving a certain period of rest to that already used.

A keen appreciation of ultimate success in the
production of a fine quality of cement led Edison to
provide very carefully in his original scheme for those
details that he foresaw would become requisite--such,
for instance, as ample stock capacity for raw materials
and their automatic delivery in the various stages of
manufacture, as well as mixing, weighing, and frequent
sampling and analyzing during the progress
through the mills. This provision even included the
details of the packing-house, and his perspicacity in
this case is well sustained from the fact that nine
years afterward, in anticipation of building an additional
packing-house, the company sent a representative
to different parts of the country to examine
the systems used by manufacturers in the packing of
large quantities of various staple commodities involving
somewhat similar problems, and found that
there was none better than that devised before the
cement plant was started. Hence, the order was
given to build the new packing-house on lines similar
to those of the old one.

Among the many innovations appearing in this
plant are two that stand out in bold relief as
indicating the large scale by which Edison measures
his ideas. One of these consists of the crushing and
grinding machinery, and the other of the long kilns.
In the preceding chapter there has been given a
description of the giant rolls, by means of which great
masses of rock, of which individual pieces may weigh
eight or more tons, are broken and reduced to about
a fourteen-inch size. The economy of this is apparent
when it is considered that in other cement plants
the limit of crushing ability is "one-man size"--that
is, pieces not too large for one man to lift.

The story of the kiln, as told by Mr. Mallory, is
illustrative of Edison's tendency to upset tradition
and make a radical departure from generally accepted
ideas. "When Mr. Edison first decided to go
into the cement business, it was on the basis of his
crushing-rolls and air separation, and he had every
expectation of installing duplicates of the kilns which
were then in common use for burning cement. These
kilns were usually made of boiler iron, riveted, and
were about sixty feet long and six feet in diameter,
and had a capacity of about two hundred barrels of
cement clinker in twenty-four hours.

"When the detail plans for our plant were being
drawn, Mr. Edison and I figured over the coal capacity
and coal economy of the sixty-foot kiln, and each
time thought that both could he materially bettered.
After having gone over this matter several times,
he said: `I believe I can make a kiln which will give
an output of one thousand barrels in twenty-four
hours.' Although I had then been closely associated
with him for ten years and was accustomed to see
him accomplish great things, I could not help feeling
the improbability of his being able to jump into an
old-established industry--as a novice--and start by
improving the `heart' of the production so as to
increase its capacity 400 per cent. When I pressed
him for an explanation, he was unable to give any
definite reasons, except that he felt positive it could
be done. In this connection let me say that very
many times I have heard Mr. Edison make predictions
as to what a certain mechanical device ought
to do in the way of output and costs, when his statements
did not seem to be even among the possibilities.
Subsequently, after more or less experience, these
predictions have been verified, and I cannot help coming
to the conclusion that he has a faculty, not possessed
by the average mortal, of intuitively and correctly
sizing up mechanical and commercial possibilities.

"But, returning to the kiln, Mr. Edison went to
work immediately and very soon completed the design
of a new type which was to be one hundred and
fifty feet long and nine feet in diameter, made up in
ten-foot sections of cast iron bolted together and
arranged to be revolved on fifteen bearings. He had
a wooden model made and studied it very carefully,
through a series of experiments. These resulted so
satisfactorily that this form was finally decided upon,
and ultimately installed as part of the plant.

"Well, for a year or so the kiln problem was a
nightmare to me. When we started up the plant
experimentally, and the long kiln was first put in
operation, an output of about four hundred barrels
in twenty-four hours was obtained. Mr. Edison was
more than disappointed at this result. His terse
comment on my report was: `Rotten. Try it again.'
When we became a little more familiar with the operation
of the kiln we were able to get the output up to
about five hundred and fifty barrels, and a little later
to six hundred and fifty barrels per day. I would
go down to Orange and report with a great deal of
satisfaction the increase in output, but Mr. Edison
would apparently be very much disappointed, and
often said to me that the trouble was not with the
kiln, but with our method of operating it; and he
would reiterate his first statement that it would
make one thousand barrels in twenty-four hours.

"Each time I would return to the plant with the
determination to increase the output if possible, and
we did increase it to seven hundred and fifty, then to
eight hundred and fifty barrels. Every time I reported
these increases Mr. Edison would still be disappointed.
I said to him several times that if he was
so sure the kiln could turn out one thousand barrels
in twenty-four hours we would be very glad to have
him tell us how to do it, and that we would run it
in any way he directed. He replied that he did not
know what it was that kept the output down, but he
was just as confident as ever that the kiln would
make one thousand barrels per day, and that if he
had time to work with and watch the kiln it would
not take him long to find out the reasons why. He
had made a number of suggestions throughout these
various trials, however, and, as we continued to
operate, we learned additional points in handling,
and were able to get the output up to nine hundred
barrels, then one thousand, and finally to over eleven
hundred barrels per day, thus more than realizing the
prediction made by Mr. Edison before even the plans
were drawn. It is only fair to say, however, that
prolonged experience has led us to the conclusion that
the maximum economy in continuous operation of
these kilns is obtained by working them at a little less
than their maximum capacity.

"It is interesting to note, in connection with the
Edison type of kiln, that when the older cement
manufacturers first learned of it, they ridiculed the
idea universally, and were not slow to predict our
early `finish' as cement manufacturers. The ultimate
success of the kiln, however, proved their criticisms
to be unwarranted. Once aware of its possibility,
some of the cement manufacturers proceeded to
avail themselves of the innovation (at first without
Mr. Edison's consent), and to-day more than one-half
of the Portland cement produced in this country is
made in kilns of the Edison type. Old plants are
lengthening their kilns wherever practicable, and no
wide-awake manufacturer building a modern plant
could afford to install other than these long kilns.
This invention of Mr. Edison has been recognized
by the larger cement manufacturers, and there is
every prospect now that the entire trade will take
licenses under his kiln patents."

When he decided to go into the cement business,
Edison was thoroughly awake to the fact that he
was proposing to "butt into" an old-established
industry, in which the principal manufacturers were
concerns of long standing. He appreciated fully its
inherent difficulties, not only in manufacture, but
also in the marketing of the product. These
considerations, together with his long-settled principle
of striving always to make the best, induced him
at the outset to study methods of producing the
highest quality of product. Thus he was led to
originate innovations in processes, some of which have
been preserved as trade secrets; but of the others
there are two deserving special notice--namely, the
accuracy of mixing and the fineness of grinding.

In cement-making, generally speaking, cement rock
and limestone in the rough are mixed together in such
relative quantities as may be determined upon in
advance by chemical analysis. In many plants this
mixture is made by barrow or load units, and may be
more or less accurate. Rule-of-thumb methods are
never acceptable to Edison, and he devised therefore
a system of weighing each part of the mixture,
so that it would be correct to a pound, and, even at
that, made the device "fool-proof," for as he observed
to one of his associates: "The man at the scales
might get to thinking of the other fellow's best girl,
so fifty or a hundred pounds of rock, more or less,
wouldn't make much difference to him." The Edison
checking plan embraces two hoppers suspended above
two platform scales whose beams are electrically
connected with a hopper-closing device by means of
needles dipping into mercury cups. The scales are
set according to the chemist's weighing orders, and
the material is fed into the scales from the hoppers.
The instant the beam tips, the connection is broken
and the feed stops instantly, thus rendering it impossible
to introduce any more material until the charge
has been unloaded.

The fine grinding of cement clinker is distinctively
Edisonian in both origin and application. As has
been already intimated, its author followed a thorough
course of reading on the subject long before reaching
the actual projection or installation of a plant, and
he had found all authorities to agree on one important
point--namely, that the value of cement depends
upon the fineness to which it is ground.[16] He also
ascertained that in the trade the standard of fineness
was that 75 per cent. of the whole mass would pass
through a 200-mesh screen. Having made some
improvements in his grinding and screening apparatus,
and believing that in the future engineers, builders,
and contractors would eventually require a higher
degree of fineness, he determined, in advance of
manufacturing, to raise the standard ten points, so that at
least 85 per cent. of his product should pass through
a 200-mesh screen. This was a bold step to be taken
by a new-comer, but his judgment, backed by a full
confidence in ability to live up to this standard, has
been fully justified in its continued maintenance,
despite the early incredulity of older manufacturers
as to the possibility of attaining such a high degree
of fineness.


[16] For a proper understanding and full appreciation of the
importance of fine grinding, it may be explained that Portland
cement (as manufactured in the Lehigh Valley) is made from
what is commonly spoken of as "cement rock," with the addition
of sufficient limestone to give the necessary amount of lime.
The rock is broken down and then ground to a fineness of 80 to
90 per cent. through a 200-mesh screen. This ground material
passes through kilns and comes out in "clinker." This is ground
and that part of this finely ground clinker that will pass a 200-
mesh screen is cement; the residue is still clinker. These coarse
particles, or clinkers, absorb water very slowly, are practically
inert, and have very feeble cementing properties. The residue
on a 200-mesh screen is useless.


If Edison measured his happiness, as men often
do, by merely commercial or pecuniary rewards of
success, it would seem almost redundant to state
that he has continued to manifest an intense interest
in the cement plant. Ordinarily, his interest as an
inventor wanes in proportion to the approach to mere
commercialism--in other words, the keenness of his
pleasure is in overcoming difficulties rather than the
mere piling up of a bank account. He is entirely
sensible of the advantages arising from a good balance
at the banker's, but that has not been the goal of his
ambition. Hence, although his cement enterprise
reached the commercial stage a long time ago, he has
been firmly convinced of his own ability to devise
still further improvements and economical processes
of greater or less fundamental importance, and has,
therefore, made a constant study of the problem as
a whole and in all its parts. By means of frequent
reports, aided by his remarkable memory, he keeps
in as close touch with the plant as if he were there in
person every day, and is thus enabled to suggest
improvement in any particular detail. The engineering
force has a great respect for the accuracy of his
knowledge of every part of the plant, for he remembers
the dimensions and details of each item of machinery,
sometimes to the discomfiture of those who
are around it every day.

A noteworthy instance of Edison's memory occurred
in connection with this cement plant. Some
years ago, as its installation was nearing completion,
he went up to look it over and satisfy himself as to
what needed to be done. On the arrival of the train
at 10.40 in the morning, he went to the mill, and,
with Mr. Mason, the general superintendent, started
at the crusher at one end, and examined every detail
all the way through to the packing-house at the other
end. He made neither notes nor memoranda, but
the examination required all the day, which happened
to be a Saturday. He took a train for home at 5.30
in the afternoon, and on arriving at his residence at
Orange, got out some note-books and began to write
entirely from memory each item consecutively. He
continued at this task all through Saturday night,
and worked steadily on until Sunday afternoon,
when he completed a list of nearly six hundred items.
The nature of this feat is more appreciable from
the fact that a large number of changes included
all the figures of new dimensions he had decided
upon for some of the machinery throughout the
plant.

As the reader may have a natural curiosity to learn
whether or not the list so made was practical, it may
be stated that it was copied and sent up to the general
superintendent with instructions to make the
modifications suggested, and report by numbers as
they were attended to. This was faithfully done, all
the changes being made before the plant was put into
operation. Subsequent experience has amply proven
the value of Edison's prescience at this time.

Although Edison's achievements in the way of improved
processes and machinery have already made a
deep impression in the cement industry, it is probable
that this impression will become still more profoundly
stamped upon it in the near future with the
exploitation of his "Poured Cement House." The
broad problem which he set himself was to provide
handsome and practically indestructible detached
houses, which could be taken by wage-earners at very
moderate monthly rentals. He turned this question
over in his mind for several years, and arrived at the
conclusion that a house cast in one piece would be
the answer. To produce such a house involved the
overcoming of many engineering and other technical
difficulties. These he attacked vigorously and disposed
of patiently one by one.

In this connection a short anecdote may be quoted
from Edison as indicative of one of the influences
turning his thoughts in this direction. In the story
of the ore-milling work, it has been noted that the
plant was shut down owing to the competition of
the cheap ore from the Mesaba Range. Edison says:
"When I shut down, the insurance companies cancelled
my insurance. I asked the reason why. `Oh,' they
said, `this thing is a failure. The moral risk is too
great.' `All right; I am glad to hear it. I will now
construct buildings that won't have any moral risk.'
I determined to go into the Portland cement business.
I organized a company and started cement-works
which have now been running successfully for several
years. I had so perfected the machinery in trying
to get my ore costs down that the making of cheap
cement was an easy matter to me. I built these
works entirely of concrete and steel, so that there is
not a wagon-load of lumber in them; and so that
the insurance companies would not have any possibility
of having any `moral risk.' Since that time
I have put up numerous factory buildings all of steel
and concrete, without any combustible whatever
about them--to avoid this `moral risk.' I am carrying
further the application of this idea in building
private houses for poor people, in which there will be
no `moral risk' at all--nothing whatever to burn,
not even by lightning."

As a casting necessitates a mold, together with a
mixture sufficiently fluid in its nature to fill all the
interstices completely, Edison devoted much attention
to an extensive series of experiments for producing
a free-flowing combination of necessary
materials. His proposition was against all precedent.
All expert testimony pointed to the fact that a mixture
of concrete (cement, sand, crushed stone, and
water) could not be made to flow freely to the small-
est parts of an intricate set of molds; that the heavy
parts of the mixture could not be held in suspension,
but would separate out by gravity and make an unevenly
balanced structure; that the surface would
be full of imperfections, etc.

Undeterred by the unanimity of adverse opinions,
however, he pursued his investigations with the
thorough minuteness that characterizes all his
laboratory work, and in due time produced a mixture
which on elaborate test overcame all objections and
answered the complex requirements perfectly,
including the making of a surface smooth, even, and
entirely waterproof. All the other engineering
problems have received study in like manner, and have
been overcome, until at the present writing the whole
question is practically solved and has been reduced
to actual practice. The Edison poured or cast cement
house may be reckoned as a reality.

The general scheme, briefly outlined, is to prepare
a model and plans of the house to be cast, and then
to design a set of molds in sections of convenient
size. When all is ready, these molds, which are of
cast iron with smooth interior surfaces, are taken to
the place where the house is to be erected. Here
there has been provided a solid concrete cellar floor,
technically called "footing." The molds are then
locked together so that they rest on this footing.
Hundreds of pieces are necessary for the complete
set. When they have been completely assembled, there
will be a hollow space in the interior, representing the
shape of the house. Reinforcing rods are also placed
in the molds, to be left behind in the finished house.

Next comes the pouring of the concrete mixture
into this form. Large mechanical mixers are used,
and, as it is made, the mixture is dumped into tanks,
from which it is conveyed to a distributing tank on
the top, or roof, of the form. From this tank a large
number of open troughs or pipes lead the mixture to
various openings in the roof, whence it flows down
and fills all parts of the mold from the footing in
the basement until it overflows at the tip of the
roof.

The pouring of the entire house is accomplished in
about six hours, and then the molds are left undisturbed
for six days, in order that the concrete may
set and harden. After that time the work of taking
away the molds is begun. This requires three or
four days. When the molds are taken away an entire
house is disclosed, cast in one piece, from cellar
to tip of roof, complete with floors, interior walls,
stairways, bath and laundry tubs, electric-wire
conduits, gas, water, and heating pipes. No plaster is
used anywhere; but the exterior and interior walls
are smooth and may be painted or tinted, if desired.
All that is now necessary is to put in the windows,
doors, heater, and lighting fixtures, and to connect
up the plumbing and heating arrangements, thus
making the house ready for occupancy.

As these iron molds are not ephemeral like the
wooden framing now used in cement construction, but
of practically illimitable life, it is obvious that they
can be used a great number of times. A complete
set of molds will cost approximately $25,000, while
the necessary plant will cost about $15,000 more.
It is proposed to work as a unit plant for successful
operation at least six sets of molds, to keep the men
busy and the machinery going. Any one, with a
sheet of paper, can ascertain the yearly interest on
the investment as a fixed charge to be assessed against
each house, on the basis that one hundred and forty-
four houses can be built in a year with the battery of
six sets of molds. Putting the sum at $175,000, and
the interest at 6 per cent. on the cost of the molds
and 4 per cent. for breakage, together with 6 per
cent. interest and 15 per cent. depreciation on
machinery, the plant charge is approximately $140
per house. It does not require a particularly acute
prophetic vision to see "Flower Towns" of "Poured
Houses" going up in whole suburbs outside all our
chief centres of population.

Edison's conception of the workingman's ideal
house has been a broad one from the very start. He
was not content merely to provide a roomy, moderately
priced house that should be fireproof, waterproof,
and vermin-proof, and practically indestructible, but
has been solicitous to get away from the idea of a
plain "packing-box" type. He has also provided for
ornamentation of a high class in designing the details
of the structure. As he expressed it: "We will
give the workingman and his family ornamentation
in their house. They deserve it, and besides, it costs
no more after the pattern is made to give decorative
effects than it would to make everything plain."
The plans have provided for a type of house that
would cost not far from $30,000 if built of cut stone.
He gave to Messrs. Mann & McNaillie, architects,
New York, his idea of the type of house he wanted.
On receiving these plans he changed them considerably,
and built a model. After making many more
changes in this while in the pattern shop, he produced
a house satisfactory to himself.

This one-family house has a floor plan twenty-five
by thirty feet, and is three stories high. The first
floor is divided off into two large rooms--parlor and
living-room--and the upper floors contain four large
bedrooms, a roomy bath-room, and wide halls. The
front porch extends eight feet, and the back porch
three feet. A cellar seven and a half feet high extends
under the whole house, and will contain the boiler,
wash-tubs, and coal-bunker. It is intended that the
house shall be built on lots forty by sixty feet, giving
a lawn and a small garden.

It is contemplated that these houses shall be built
in industrial communities, where they can be put up
in groups of several hundred. If erected in this manner,
and by an operator buying his materials in large
quantities, Edison believes that these houses can
be erected complete, including heating apparatus and
plumbing, for $1200 each. This figure would also rest
on the basis of using in the mixture the gravel
excavated on the site. Comment has been made by
persons of artistic taste on the monotony of a cluster
of houses exactly alike in appearance, but this
criticism has been anticipated, and the molds are so
made as to be capable of permutations of arrangement.
Thus it will be possible to introduce almost
endless changes in the style of house by variation of
the same set of molds.

For more than forty years Edison was avowedly
an inventor for purely commercial purposes; but
within the last two years he decided to retire from
that field so far as new inventions were concerned,
and to devote himself to scientific research and
experiment in the leisure hours that might remain after
continuing to improve his existing devices. But
although the poured cement house was planned during
the commercial period, the spirit in which it was
conceived arose out of an earnest desire to place within
the reach of the wage-earner an opportunity to better
his physical, pecuniary, and mental conditions in so
far as that could be done through the medium of
hygienic and beautiful homes at moderate rentals.
From the first Edison has declared that it was not
his intention to benefit pecuniarily through the
exploitation of this project. Having actually demonstrated
the practicability and feasibility of his plans,
he will allow responsible concerns to carry them into
practice under such limitations as may be necessary
to sustain the basic object, but without any payment
to him except for the actual expense incurred. The
hypercritical may cavil and say that, as a manufacturer
of cement, Edison will be benefited. True,
but as ANY good Portland cement can be used,
and no restrictions as to source of supply are enforced,
he, or rather his company, will be merely one
of many possible purveyors.

This invention is practically a gift to the workingmen
of the world and their families. The net result
will be that those who care to avail themselves of the
privilege may, sooner or later, forsake the crowded
apartment or tenement and be comfortably housed
in sanitary, substantial, and roomy homes fitted with
modern conveniences, and beautified by artistic
decorations, with no outlay for insurance or repairs; no
dread of fire, and all at a rental which Edison
believes will be not more, but probably less than, $10
per month in any city of the United States. While his
achievement in its present status will bring about
substantial and immediate benefits to wage-earners,
his thoughts have already travelled some years ahead
in the formulation of a still further beneficial project
looking toward the individual ownership of these
houses on a basis startling in its practical possibilities.



CHAPTER XXI

MOTION PICTURES

THE preceding chapters have treated of Edison in
various aspects as an inventor, some of which
are familiar to the public, others of which are believed
to be in the nature of a novel revelation, simply because
no one had taken the trouble before to put the
facts together. To those who have perhaps grown
weary of seeing Edison's name in articles of a sensational
character, it may sound strange to say that,
after all, justice has not been done to his versatile
and many-sided nature; and that the mere prosaic
facts of his actual achievement outrun the wildest
flights of irrelevant journalistic imagination. Edison
hates nothing more than to be dubbed a genius or
played up as a "wizard"; but this fate has dogged
him until he has come at last to resign himself to it
with a resentful indignation only to be appreciated
when watching him read the latest full-page Sunday
"spread" that develops a casual conversation into
oracular verbosity, and gives to his shrewd surmise
the cast of inspired prophecy.

In other words, Edison's real work has seldom been
seriously discussed. Rather has it been taken as a
point of departure into a realm of fancy and romance,
where as a relief from drudgery he is sometimes quite
willing to play the pipe if some one will dance to it.
Indeed, the stories woven around his casual suggestions
are tame and vapid alongside his own essays
in fiction, probably never to be published, but which
show what a real inventor can do when he cuts loose
to create a new heaven and a new earth, unrestrained
by any formal respect for existing conditions of servitude
to three dimensions and the standard elements.

The present chapter, essentially technical in its
subject-matter, is perhaps as significant as any in this
biography, because it presents Edison as the Master
Impresario of his age, and maybe of many following
ages also. His phonographs and his motion pictures
have more audiences in a week than all the theatres
in America in a year. The "Nickelodeon" is the central
fact in modern amusement, and Edison founded
it. All that millions know of music and drama he
furnishes; and the whole study of the theatrical managers
thus reaching the masses is not to ascertain the
limitations of the new art, but to discover its boundless
possibilities. None of the exuberant versions of
things Edison has not done could endure for a moment
with the simple narrative of what he has really done
as the world's new Purveyor of Pleasure. And yet
it all depends on the toilful conquest of a subtle and
intricate art. The story of the invention of the
phonograph has been told. That of the evolution
of motion pictures follows. It is all one piece of
sober, careful analysis, and stubborn, successful
attack on the problem.

The possibility of making a record of animate movement,
and subsequently reproducing it, was predicted
long before the actual accomplishment. This, as we
have seen, was also the case with the phonograph,
the telephone, and the electric light. As to the
phonograph, the prediction went only so far as the
RESULT; the apparent intricacy of the problem being
so great that the MEANS for accomplishing the desired
end were seemingly beyond the grasp of the imagination
or the mastery of invention.

With the electric light and the telephone the prediction
included not only the result to be accomplished,
but, in a rough and general way, the mechanism
itself; that is to say, long before a single sound
was intelligibly transmitted it was recognized that
such a thing might be done by causing a diaphragm,
vibrated by original sounds, to communicate its
movements to a distant diaphragm by a suitably
controlled electric current. In the case of the electric
light, the heating of a conductor to incandescence in
a highly rarefied atmosphere was suggested as a
scheme of illumination long before its actual
accomplishment, and in fact before the production of a
suitable generator for delivering electric current in a
satisfactory and economical manner.

It is a curious fact that while the modern art of
motion pictures depends essentially on the development
of instantaneous photography, the suggestion
of the possibility of securing a reproduction of animate
motion, as well as, in a general way, of the
mechanism for accomplishing the result, was made
many years before the instantaneous photograph became
possible. While the first motion picture was
not actually produced until the summer of 1889, its
real birth was almost a century earlier, when Plateau,
in France, constructed an optical toy, to which the
impressive name of "Phenakistoscope" was applied,
for producing an illusion of motion. This toy in turn
was the forerunner of the Zoetrope, or so-called
"Wheel of Life," which was introduced into this
country about the year 1845. These devices were
essentially toys, depending for their successful
operation (as is the case with motion pictures) upon a
physiological phenomenon known as persistence of
vision. If, for instance, a bright light is moved
rapidly in front of the eye in a dark room, it appears
not as an illuminated spark, but as a line of fire; a
so-called shooting star, or a flash of lightning produces
the same effect. This result is purely physiological,
and is due to the fact that the retina of the eye may
be considered as practically a sensitized plate of
relatively slow speed, and an image impressed upon it
remains, before being effaced, for a period of from
one-tenth to one-seventh of a second, varying according
to the idiosyncrasies of the individual and the intensity
of the light. When, therefore, it is said that
we should only believe things we actually see, we
ought to remember that in almost every instance we
never see things as they are.

Bearing in mind the fact that when an image is
impressed on the human retina it persists for an
appreciable period, varying as stated, with the
individual, and depending also upon the intensity of the
illumination, it will be seen that, if a number of pictures
or photographs are successively presented to the
eye, they will appear as a single, continuous photo-
graph, provided the periods between them are short
enough to prevent one of the photographs from being
effaced before its successor is presented. If, for
instance, a series of identical portraits were rapidly
presented to the eye, a single picture would apparently
be viewed, or if we presented to the eye the series
of photographs of a moving object, each one representing
a minute successive phase of the movement,
the movements themselves would apparently again
take place.

With the Zoetrope and similar toys rough drawings
were used for depicting a few broadly outlined
successive phases of movement, because in their day
instantaneous photography was unknown, and in addition
there were certain crudities of construction that
seriously interfered with the illumination of the pictures,
rendering it necessary to make them practically
as silhouettes on a very conspicuous background.
Hence it will be obvious that these toys produced
merely an ILLUSION of THEORETICAL motion.

But with the knowledge of even an illusion of
motion, and with the philosophy of persistence of
vision fully understood, it would seem that, upon the
development of instantaneous photography, the
reproduction of ACTUAL motion by means of pictures
would have followed, almost as a necessary consequence.
Yet such was not the case, and success was
ultimately accomplished by Edison only after
persistent experimenting along lines that could not
have been predicted, including the construction of
apparatus for the purpose, which, if it had not been
made, would undoubtedly be considered impossible.
In fact, if it were not for Edison's peculiar mentality,
that refuses to recognize anything as impossible until
indubitably demonstrated to be so, the production
of motion pictures would certainly have been delayed
for years, if not for all time.

One of the earliest suggestions of the possibility of
utilizing photography for exhibiting the illusion of
actual movement was made by Ducos, who, as early
as 1864, obtained a patent in France, in which he said:
"My invention consists in substituting rapidly and
without confusion to the eye not only of an individual,
but when so desired of a whole assemblage, the enlarged
images of a great number of pictures when taken
instantaneously and successively at very short
intervals.... The observer will believe that he sees
only one image, which changes gradually by reason of
the successive changes of form and position of the
objects which occur from one picture to the other.
Even supposing that there be a slight interval of
time during which the same object was not shown,
the persistence of the luminous impression upon the
eye will fill this gap. There will be as it were a living
representation of nature and . . . the same scene will
be reproduced upon the screen with the same degree
of animation.... By means of my apparatus I am
enabled especially to reproduce the passing of a
procession, a review of military manoeuvres, the
movements of a battle, a public fete, a theatrical scene,
the evolution or the dances of one or of several persons,
the changing expression of countenance, or, if
one desires, the grimaces of a human face; a marine
view, the motion of waves, the passage of clouds in
a stormy sky, particularly in a mountainous country,
the eruption of a volcano," etc.

Other dreamers, contemporaries of Ducos, made
similar suggestions; they recognized the scientific
possibility of the problem, but they were irretrievably
handicapped by the shortcomings of photography.
Even when substantially instantaneous photographs
were evolved at a somewhat later date they
were limited to the use of wet plates, which have
to be prepared by the photographer and used immediately,
and were therefore quite out of the question
for any practical commercial scheme. Besides
this, the use of plates would have been impracticable,
because the limitations of their weight and size would
have prevented the taking of a large number of pictures
at a high rate of speed, even if the sensitized
surface had been sufficiently rapid.

Nothing ever came of Ducos' suggestions and those
of the early dreamers in this essentially practical and
commercial art, and their ideas have made no greater
impress upon the final result than Jules Verne's
Nautilus of our boyhood days has developed the
modern submarine. From time to time further
suggestions were made, some in patents, and others in
photographic and scientific publications, all dealing
with the fascinating thought of preserving and
representing actual scenes and events. The first serious
attempt to secure an illusion of motion by photography
was made in 1878 by Eadward Muybridge as a result
of a wager with the late Senator Leland Stanford,
the California pioneer and horse-lover, who had
asserted, contrary to the usual belief, that a trotting-
horse at one point in its gait left the ground entirely.
At this time wet plates of very great rapidity were
known, and by arranging a series of cameras along
the line of a track and causing the horse in trotting
past them, by striking wires or strings attached to the
shutters, to actuate the cameras at the right instant,
a series of very clear instantaneous photographs was
obtained. From these negatives, when developed,
positive prints were made, which were later mounted
on a modified form of Zoetrope and projected upon
a screen.

One of these early exhibitions is described in the
Scientific American of June 5, 1880: "While the
separate photographs had shown the successive positions
of a trotting or running horse in making a
single stride, the Zoogyroscope threw upon the screen
apparently the living animal. Nothing was wanting
but the clatter of hoofs upon the turf, and an occasional
breath of steam from the nostrils, to make the
spectator believe that he had before him genuine
flesh-and-blood steeds. In the views of hurdle-leaping,
the simulation was still more admirable, even
to the motion of the tail as the animal gathered for
the jump, the raising of his head, all were there.
Views of an ox trotting, a wild bull on the charge,
greyhounds and deer running and birds flying in mid-
air were shown, also athletes in various positions."
It must not be assumed from this statement that
even as late as the work of Muybridge anything like
a true illusion of movement had been obtained, because
such was not the case. Muybridge secured
only one cycle of movement, because a separate
camera had to be used for each photograph and
consequently each cycle was reproduced over and
over again. To have made photographs of a trotting-
horse for one minute at the moderate rate of twelve
per second would have required, under the Muybridge
scheme, seven hundred and twenty separate cameras,
whereas with the modern art only a single camera is
used. A further defect with the Muybridge pictures
was that since each photograph was secured when
the moving object was in the centre of the plate, the
reproduction showed the object always centrally on
the screen with its arms or legs in violent movement,
but not making any progress, and with the scenery
rushing wildly across the field of view!

In the early 80's the dry plate was first introduced
into general use, and from that time onward its rapidity
and quality were gradually improved; so much
so that after 1882 Prof. E. J. Marey, of the French
Academy, who in 1874 had published a well-known
treatise on "Animal Movement," was able by the
use of dry plates to carry forward the experiments of
Muybridge on a greatly refined scale. Marey was,
however, handicapped by reason of the fact that glass
plates were still used, although he was able with
a single camera to obtain twelve photographs on
successive plates in the space of one second. Marey,
like Muybridge, photographed only one cycle of the
movements of a single object, which was subsequently
reproduced over and over again, and the
camera was in the form of a gun, which could follow
the object so that the successive pictures would be
always located in the centre of the plates.

The review above given, as briefly as possible,
comprises substantially the sum of the world's
knowledge at the time the problem of recording and
reproducing animate movement was first undertaken
by Edison. The most that could be said of the
condition of the art when Edison entered the field was
that it had been recognized that if a series of
instantaneous photographs of a moving object could
be secured at an enormously high rate many times
per second--they might be passed before the eye
either directly or by projection upon a screen, and
thereby result in a reproduction of the movements.
Two very serious difficulties lay in the way of actual
accomplishment, however--first, the production of a
sensitive surface in such form and weight as to be
capable of being successively brought into position
and exposed, at the necessarily high rate; and, second,
the production of a camera capable of so taking
the pictures. There were numerous other workers
in the field, but they added nothing to what had already
been proposed. Edison himself knew nothing
of Ducos, or that the suggestions had advanced beyond
the single centrally located photographs of
Muybridge and Marey. As a matter of public policy,
the law presumes that an inventor must be familiar
with all that has gone before in the field within which
he is working, and if a suggestion is limited to a patent
granted in New South Wales, or is described in a
single publication in Brazil, an inventor in America,
engaged in the same field of thought, is by legal fiction
presumed to have knowledge not only of the existence
of that patent or publication, but of its contents.
We say this not in the way of an apology for the
extent of Edison's contribution to the motion-picture
art, because there can be no question that he was as
much the creator of that art as he was of the phonographic
art; but to show that in a practical sense the
suggestion of the art itself was original with him. He
himself says: "In the year 1887 the idea occurred
to me that it was possible to devise an instrument
which should do for the eye what the phonograph
does for the ear, and that by a combination of the
two, all motion and sound could be recorded and
reproduced simultaneously. This idea, the germ of
which came from the little toy called the Zoetrope
and the work of Muybridge, Marey, and others, has
now been accomplished, so that every change of
facial expression can be recorded and reproduced life-
size. The kinetoscope is only a small model illustrating
the present stage of the progress, but with
each succeeding month new possibilities are brought
into view. I believe that in coming years, by my
own work and that of Dickson, Muybridge, Marey,
and others who will doubtless enter the field, grand
opera can be given at the Metropolitan Opera House
at New York without any material change from the
original, and with artists and musicians long since
dead."

In the earliest experiments attempts were made
to secure the photographs, reduced microscopically,
arranged spirally on a cylinder about the size of a
phonograph record, and coated with a highly sensitized
surface, the cylinder being given an intermittent
movement, so as to be at rest during each
exposure. Reproductions were obtained in the same
way, positive prints being observed through a
magnifying glass. Various forms of apparatus following
this general type were made, but they were all open
to the serious objection that the very rapid emulsions
employed were relatively coarse-grained and prevented
the securing of sharp pictures of microscopic
size. On the other hand, the enlarging of the
apparatus to permit larger pictures to be obtained
would present too much weight to be stopped and
started with the requisite rapidity. In these early
experiments, however, it was recognized that, to
secure proper results, a single camera should be used,
so that the objects might move across its field just
as they move across the field of the human eye; and
the important fact was also observed that the rate
at which persistence of vision took place represented
the minimum speed at which the pictures should be
obtained. If, for instance, five pictures per second
were taken (half of the time being occupied in
exposure and the other half in moving the exposed
portion of the film out of the field of the lens and
bringing a new portion into its place), and the same ratio
is observed in exhibiting the pictures, the interval of
time between successive pictures would be one-tenth
of a second; and for a normal eye such an exhibition
would present a substantially continuous photograph.
If the angular movement of the object across the field
is very slow, as, for instance, a distant vessel, the
successive positions of the object are so nearly coincident
that when reproduced before the eye an impression
of smooth, continuous movement is secured. If, how-
ever, the object is moving rapidly across the field of
view, one picture will be separated from its successor
to a marked extent, and the resulting impression will
be jerky and unnatural. Recognizing this fact, Edison
always sought for a very high speed, so as to give
smooth and natural reproductions, and even with his
experimental apparatus obtained upward of forty-
eight pictures per second, whereas, in practice, at the
present time, the accepted rate varies between twenty
and thirty per second. In the efforts of the present
day to economize space by using a minimum length
of film, pictures are frequently taken at too slow a
rate, and the reproductions are therefore often
objectionable, by reason of more or less jerkiness.

During the experimental period and up to the early
part of 1889, the kodak film was being slowly
developed by the Eastman Kodak Company. Edison
perceived in this product the solution of the problem
on which he had been working, because the film presented
a very light body of tough material on which
relatively large photographs could be taken at rapid
intervals. The surface, however, was not at first
sufficiently sensitive to admit of sharply defined
pictures being secured at the necessarily high rates.
It seemed apparent, therefore, that in order to obtain
the desired speed there would have to be sacrificed
that fineness of emulsion necessary for the securing
of sharp pictures. But as was subsequently seen,
this sacrifice was in time rendered unnecessary.
Much credit is due the Eastman experts--stimulated
and encouraged by Edison, but independently of
him--for the production at last of a highly sensitized,
fine-grained emulsion presenting the highly sensitized
surface that Edison sought.

Having at last obtained apparently the proper
material upon which to secure the photographs, the
problem then remained to devise an apparatus by
means of which from twenty to forty pictures per
second could be taken; the film being stationary
during the exposure and, upon the closing of the
shutter, being moved to present a fresh surface. In
connection with this problem it is interesting to note
that this question of high speed was apparently regarded
by all Edison's predecessors as the crucial
point. Ducos, for example, expended a great deal
of useless ingenuity in devising a camera by means
of which a tape-line film could receive the photographs
while being in continuous movement, necessitating
the use of a series of moving lenses. Another
experimenter, Dumont, made use of a single large
plate and a great number of lenses which were
successively exposed. Muybridge, as we have seen,
used a series of cameras, one for each plate. Marey
was limited to a very few photographs, because the
entire surface had to be stopped and started in
connection with each exposure.

After the accomplishment of the fact, it would seem
to be the obvious thing to use a single lens and move
the sensitized film with respect to it, intermittently
bringing the surface to rest, then exposing it, then
cutting off the light and moving the surface to a
fresh position; but who, other than Edison, would
assume that such a device could be made to repeat
these movements over and over again at the rate of
twenty to forty per second? Users of kodaks and
other forms of film cameras will appreciate perhaps
better than others the difficulties of the problem,
because in their work, after an exposure, they have
to advance the film forward painfully to the extent of
the next picture before another exposure can take
place, these operations permitting of speeds of but a
few pictures per minute at best. Edison's solution of
the problem involved the production of a kodak in
which from twenty to forty pictures should be taken
IN EACH SECOND, and with such fineness of adjustment
that each should exactly coincide with its predecessors
even when subjected to the test of enlargement by
projection. This, however, was finally accomplished,
and in the summer of 1889 the first modern motion-
picture camera was made. More than this, the
mechanism for operating the film was so constructed
that the movement of the film took place in one-
tenth of the time required for the exposure, giving
the film an opportunity to come to rest prior to the
opening of the shutter. From that day to this the
Edison camera has been the accepted standard for
securing pictures of objects in motion, and such
changes as have been made in it have been purely
in the nature of detail mechanical refinements.

The earliest form of exhibiting apparatus, known
as the Kinetoscope, was a machine in which a positive
print from the negative obtained in the camera
was exhibited directly to the eye through a peep-
hole; but in 1895 the films were applied to modified
forms of magic lanterns, by which the images are
projected upon a screen. Since that date the industry
has developed very rapidly, and at the present time
(1910) all of the principal American manufacturers
of motion pictures are paying a royalty to Edison
under his basic patents.

From the early days of pictures representing simple
movements, such as a man sneezing, or a skirt-dance,
there has been a gradual evolution, until now the
pictures represent not only actual events in all their
palpitating instantaneity, but highly developed dramas
and scenarios enacted in large, well-equipped
glass studios, and the result of infinite pains and
expense of production. These pictures are exhibited
in upward of eight thousand places of amusement in
the United States, and are witnessed by millions of
people each year. They constitute a cheap, clean
form of amusement for many persons who cannot
spare the money to go to the ordinary theatres, or
they may be exhibited in towns that are too small
to support a theatre. More than this, they offer to
the poor man an effective substitute for the saloon.
Probably no invention ever made has afforded more
pleasure and entertainment than the motion picture.

Aside from the development of the motion picture
as a spectacle, there has gone on an evolution in its
use for educational purposes of wide range, which
must not be overlooked. In fact, this form of utilization
has been carried further in Europe than in this
country as a means of demonstration in the arts and
sciences. One may study animal life, watch a surgical
operation, follow the movement of machinery,
take lessons in facial expression or in calisthenics.
It seems a pity that in motion pictures should at last
have been found the only competition that the ancient
marionettes cannot withstand. But aside from
the disappearance of those entertaining puppets, all
else is gain in the creation of this new art.

The work at the Edison laboratory in the development
of the motion picture was as usual intense and
concentrated, and, as might be expected, many of
the early experiments were quite primitive in their
character until command had been secured of relatively
perfect apparatus. The subjects registered
jerkily by the films were crude and amusing, such as
of Fred Ott's sneeze, Carmencita dancing, Italians
and their performing bears, fencing, trapeze stunts,
horsemanship, blacksmithing--just simple movements
without any attempt to portray the silent drama.
One curious incident of this early study occurred
when "Jim" Corbett was asked to box a few rounds
in front of the camera, with a "dark un" to be selected
locally. This was agreed to, and a celebrated
bruiser was brought over from Newark. When this
"sparring partner" came to face Corbett in the imitation
ring he was so paralyzed with terror he could
hardly move. It was just after Corbett had won
one of his big battles as a prize-fighter, and the dismay
of his opponent was excusable. The "boys" at the
laboratory still laugh consumedly when they tell
about it.

The first motion-picture studio was dubbed by the
staff the "Black Maria." It was an unpretentious
oblong wooden structure erected in the laboratory
yard, and had a movable roof in the central part.
This roof could be raised or lowered at will. The
building was covered with black roofing paper, and
was also painted black inside. There was no scenery
to render gay this lugubrious environment, but the
black interior served as the common background for
the performers, throwing all their actions into high
relief. The whole structure was set on a pivot so
that it could be swung around with the sun; and
the movable roof was opened so that the accentuating
sunlight could stream in upon the actor whose
gesticulations were being caught by the camera.
These beginnings and crudities are very remote from
the elaborate and expensive paraphernalia and machinery
with which the art is furnished to-day.

At the present time the studios in which motion
pictures are taken are expensive and pretentious
affairs. An immense building of glass, with all the
properties and stage-settings of a regular theatre,
is required. The Bronx Park studio of the Edison
company cost at least one hundred thousand dollars,
while the well-known house of Pathe Freres in
France--one of Edison's licensees--makes use of no
fewer than seven of these glass theatres. All of the
larger producers of pictures in this country and
abroad employ regular stock companies of actors,
men and women selected especially for their skill in
pantomime, although, as most observers have perhaps
suspected, in the actual taking of the pictures the
performers are required to carry on an animated and
prepared dialogue with the same spirit and animation
as on the regular stage. Before setting out on
the preparation of a picture, the book is first written
--known in the business as a scenario--giving a
complete statement as to the scenery, drops and
background, and the sequence of events, divided into
scenes as in an ordinary play. These are placed in
the hands of a "producer," corresponding to a stage-
director, generally an actor or theatrical man of
experience, with a highly developed dramatic instinct.
The various actors are selected, parts are assigned,
and the scene-painters are set to work on the production
of the desired scenery. Before the photographing
of a scene, a long series of rehearsals takes
place, the incidents being gone over and over again
until the actors are "letter perfect." So persistent
are the producers in the matter of rehearsals and the
refining and elaboration of details, that frequently
a picture that may be actually photographed and
reproduced in fifteen minutes, may require two or
three weeks for its production. After the rehearsal
of a scene has advanced sufficiently to suit the
critical requirements of the producer, the camera
man is in requisition, and he is consulted as to lighting
so as to produce the required photographic effect.
Preferably, of course, sunlight is used whenever
possible, hence the glass studios; but on dark days, and
when night-work is necessary, artificial light of
enormous candle-power is used, either mercury arcs or
ordinary arc lights of great size and number.

Under all conditions the light is properly screened
and diffused to suit the critical eye of the camera
man. All being in readiness, the actual picture is
taken, the actors going through their rehearsed parts,
the producer standing out of the range of the camera,
and with a megaphone to his lips yelling out his
instructions, imprecations, and approval, and the
camera man grinding at the crank of the camera and
securing the pictures at the rate of twenty or more
per second, making a faithful and permanent record
of every movement and every change of facial
expression. At the end of the scene the negative is
developed in the ordinary way, and is then ready for
use in the printing of the positives for sale. When a
further scene in the play takes place in the same
setting, and without regard to its position in the
plot, it is taken up, rehearsed, and photographed in
the same way, and afterward all the scenes are
cemented together in the proper sequence, and form
the complete negative. Frequently, therefore, in the
production of a motion-picture play, the first and the
last scene may be taken successively, the only thing
necessary being, of course, that after all is done the
various scenes should be arranged in their proper
order. The frames, having served their purpose, now
go back to the scene-painter for further use. All
pictures are not taken in studios, because when light
and weather permit and proper surroundings can be
secured outside, scenes can best be obtained with
natural scenery--city streets, woods, and fields. The
great drawback to the taking of pictures out-of-doors,
however, is the inevitable crowd, attracted by the
novelty of the proceedings, which makes the camera
man's life a torment by getting into the field of his
instrument. The crowds are patient, however, and
in one Edison picture involving the blowing up of a
bridge by the villain of the piece and the substitution
of a pontoon bridge by a company of engineers just
in time to allow the heroine to pass over in her
automobile, more than a thousand people stood around
for almost an entire day waiting for the tedious
rehearsals to end and the actual performance to begin.
Frequently large bodies of men are used in pictures,
such as troops of soldiers, and it is an open secret that
for weeks during the Boer War regularly equipped
British and Boer armies confronted each other on the
peaceful hills of Orange, New Jersey, ready to enact
before the camera the stirring events told by the
cable from the seat of hostilities. These conflicts
were essentially harmless, except in one case during
the battle of Spion Kopje, when "General Cronje,"
in his efforts to fire a wooden cannon, inadvertently
dropped his fuse into a large glass bottle containing
gunpowder. The effect was certainly most dramatic,
and created great enthusiasm among the many audiences
which viewed the completed production; but
the unfortunate general, who is still an employee, was
taken to the hospital, and even now, twelve years
afterward, he says with a grin that whenever he has
a moment of leisure he takes the time to pick a few
pieces of glass from his person!

Edison's great contribution to the regular stage
was the incandescent electric lamp, which enabled
the production of scenic effects never before even
dreamed of, but which we accept now with so much
complacency. Yet with the motion picture, effects
are secured that could not be reproduced to the
slightest extent on the real stage. The villain, overcome
by a remorseful conscience, sees on the wall of
the room the very crime which he committed, with
HIMSELF as the principal actor; one of the easy effects
of double exposure. The substantial and ofttimes
corpulent ghost or spirit of the real stage has been
succeeded by an intangible wraith, as transparent
and unsubstantial as may be demanded in the best
book of fairy tales--more double exposure. A man
emerges from the water with a splash, ascends feet
foremost ten yards or more, makes a graceful curve
and lands on a spring-board, runs down it to the bank,
and his clothes fly gently up from the ground and
enclose his person--all unthinkable in real life, but
readily possible by running the motion-picture film
backward! The fairy prince commands the princess
to appear, consigns the bad brothers to instant
annihilation, turns the witch into a cat, confers life
on inanimate things; and many more startling and
apparently incomprehensible effects are carried out
with actual reality, by stop-work photography. In
one case, when the command for the heroine to come
forth is given, the camera is stopped, the young
woman walks to the desired spot, and the camera is
again started; the effect to the eye--not knowing of
this little by-play--is as if she had instantly appeared
from space. The other effects are perhaps obvious,
and the field and opportunities are absolutely
unlimited. Other curious effects are secured by taking
the pictures at a different speed from that at which
they are exhibited. If, for example, a scene occupying
thirty seconds is reproduced in ten seconds, the
movements will be three times as fast, and vice
versa. Many scenes familiar to the reader, showing
automobiles tearing along the road and rounding
corners at an apparently reckless speed, are really
pictures of slow and dignified movements reproduced
at a high speed.

Brief reference has been made to motion pictures
of educational subjects, and in this field there are
very great opportunities for development. The study
of geography, scenes and incidents in foreign countries,
showing the lives and customs and surroundings
of other peoples, is obviously more entertaining
to the child when actively depicted on the screen
than when merely described in words. The lives of
great men, the enacting of important historical
events, the reproduction of great works of literature,
if visually presented to the child must necessarily
impress his mind with greater force than if shown
by mere words. We predict that the time is not
far distant when, in many of our public schools, two
or three hours a week will be devoted to this rational
and effective form of education.

By applying microphotography to motion pictures
an additional field is opened up, one phase of
which may be the study of germ life and bacteria,
so that our future medical students may become as
familiar with the habits and customs of the Anthrax
bacillus, for example, as of the domestic cat.

From whatever point of view the subject is approached,
the fact remains that in the motion picture,
perhaps more than with any other invention, Edison
has created an art that must always make a special
appeal to the mind and emotions of men, and although
so far it has not advanced much beyond the
field of amusement, it contains enormous possibilities
for serious development in the future. Let us not
think too lightly of the humble five-cent theatre with
its gaping crowd following with breathless interest
the vicissitudes of the beautiful heroine. Before us
lies an undeveloped land of opportunity which is
destined to play an important part in the growth
and welfare of the human race.



CHAPTER XXII

THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE EDISON STORAGE
BATTERY

IT is more than a hundred years since the elementary
principle of the storage battery or "accumulator"
was detected by a Frenchman named Gautherot; it
is just fifty years since another Frenchman, named
Plante, discovered that on taking two thin plates of
sheet lead, immersing them in dilute sulphuric acid,
and passing an electric current through the cell, the
combination exhibited the ability to give back part
of the original charging current, owing to the chemical
changes and reactions set up. Plante coiled up his
sheets into a very handy cell like a little roll of carpet
or pastry; but the trouble was that the battery took a
long time to "form." One sheet becoming coated
with lead peroxide and the other with finely divided
or spongy metallic lead, they would receive current,
and then, even after a long period of inaction, furnish
or return an electromotive force of from 1.85
to 2.2 volts. This ability to store up electrical energy
produced by dynamos in hours otherwise idle, whether
driven by steam, wind, or water, was a distinct advance
in the art; but the sensational step was taken about
1880, when Faure in France and Brush in America
broke away from the slow and weary process of "form-
ing" the plates, and hit on clever methods of furnishing
them "ready made," so to speak, by dabbing red
lead onto lead-grid plates, just as butter is spread on a
slice of home-made bread. This brought the storage
battery at once into use as a practical, manufactured
piece of apparatus; and the world was captivated
with the idea. The great English scientist, Sir
William Thomson, went wild with enthusiasm when
a Faure "box of electricity" was brought over from
Paris to him in 1881 containing a million foot-pounds
of stored energy. His biographer, Dr. Sylvanus P.
Thompson, describes him as lying ill in bed with a
wounded leg, and watching results with an incandescent
lamp fastened to his bed curtain by a safety-pin,
and lit up by current from the little Faure cell. Said
Sir William: "It is going to be a most valuable,
practical affair--as valuable as water-cisterns to
people whether they had or had not systems of water-
pipes and water-supply." Indeed, in one outburst
of panegyric the shrewd physicist remarked that he
saw in it "a realization of the most ardently and
increasingly felt scientific aspiration of his life--an
aspiration which he hardly dared to expect or to see
realized." A little later, however, Sir William,
always cautious and canny, began to discover the
inherent defects of the primitive battery, as to
disintegration, inefficiency, costliness, etc., and though
offered tempting inducements, declined to lend his
name to its financial introduction. Nevertheless, he
accepted the principle as valuable, and put the battery
to actual use.

For many years after this episode, the modern lead-
lead type of battery thus brought forward with so
great a flourish of trumpets had a hard time of it.
Edison's attitude toward it, even as a useful
supplement to his lighting system, was always one of
scepticism, and he remarked contemptuously that the
best storage battery he knew was a ton of coal. The
financial fortunes of the battery, on both sides of the
Atlantic, were as varied and as disastrous as its
industrial; but it did at last emerge, and "made good."
By 1905, the production of lead-lead storage batteries
in the United States alone had reached a value for
the year of nearly $3,000,000, and it has increased
greatly since that time. The storage battery is now
regarded as an important and indispensable adjunct
in nearly all modern electric-lighting and electric-
railway systems of any magnitude; and in 1909, in
spite of its weight, it had found adoption in over ten
thousand automobiles of the truck, delivery wagon,
pleasure carriage, and runabout types in America.

Edison watched closely all this earlier development
for about fifteen years, not changing his mind as to
what he regarded as the incurable defects of the lead-
lead type, but coming gradually to the conclusion
that if a storage battery of some other and better
type could be brought forward, it would fulfil all the
early hopes, however extravagant, of such men as
Kelvin (Sir William Thomson), and would become as
necessary and as universal as the incandescent lamp
or the electric motor. The beginning of the present
century found him at his point of new departure.

Generally speaking, non-technical and uninitiated
persons have a tendency to regard an invention as
being more or less the ultimate result of some happy
inspiration. And, indeed, there is no doubt that such
may be the fact in some instances; but in most cases
the inventor has intentionally set out to accomplish
a definite and desired result--mostly through the
application of the known laws of the art in which he
happens to be working. It is rarely, however, that
a man will start out deliberately, as Edison did, to
evolve a radically new type of such an intricate device
as the storage battery, with only a meagre clew and
a vague starting-point.

In view of the successful outcome of the problem
which, in 1900, he undertook to solve, it will be
interesting to review his mental attitude at that period.
It has already been noted at the end of a previous
chapter that on closing the magnetic iron-ore
concentrating plant at Edison, New Jersey, he resolved
to work on a new type of storage battery. It was
about this time that, in the course of a conversation
with Mr. R. H. Beach, then of the street-railway
department of the General Electric Company, he said:
"Beach, I don't think Nature would be so unkind as
to withhold the secret of a GOOD storage battery if a
real earnest hunt for it is made. I'm going to hunt."

Frequently Edison has been asked what he considers
the secret of achievement. To this query he
has invariably replied: "Hard work, based on hard
thinking." The laboratory records bear the fullest
witness that he has consistently followed out this
prescription to the utmost. The perfection of all his
great inventions has been signalized by patient,
persistent, and incessant effort which, recognizing noth-
ing short of success, has resulted in the ultimate
accomplishment of his ideas. Optimistic and hopeful
to a high degree, Edison has the happy faculty of
beginning the day as open-minded as a child--yesterday's
disappointments and failures discarded and
discounted by the alluring possibilities of to-morrow.

Of all his inventions, it is doubtful whether any one
of them has called forth more original thought, work,
perseverance, ingenuity, and monumental patience
than the one we are now dealing with. One of his
associates who has been through the many years of
the storage-battery drudgery with him said: "If
Edison's experiments, investigations, and work on
this storage battery were all that he had ever done,
I should say that he was not only a notable inventor,
but also a great man. It is almost impossible to
appreciate the enormous difficulties that have been
overcome."

From a beginning which was made practically in
the dark, it was not until he had completed more
than ten thousand experiments that he obtained any
positive preliminary results whatever. Through all
this vast amount of research there had been no previous
signs of the electrical action he was looking for.
These experiments had extended over many months
of constant work by day and night, but there was
no breakdown of Edison's faith in ultimate success--
no diminution of his sanguine and confident expectations.
The failure of an experiment simply meant
to him that he had found something else that would
not work, thus bringing the possible goal a little nearer
by a process of painstaking elimination.

Now, however, after these many months of arduous
toil, in which he had examined and tested practically
all the known elements in numerous chemical
combinations, the electric action he sought for had
been obtained, thus affording him the first inkling of
the secret that he had industriously tried to wrest
from Nature. It should be borne in mind that from
the very outset Edison had disdained any intention of
following in the only tracks then known by employing
lead and sulphuric acid as the components of a
successful storage battery. Impressed with what he
considered the serious inherent defects of batteries
made of these materials, and the tremendously complex
nature of the chemical reactions taking place in
all types of such cells, he determined boldly at the
start that he would devise a battery without lead,
and one in which an alkaline solution could be used--
a form which would, he firmly believed, be inherently
less subject to decay and dissolution than the standard
type, which after many setbacks had finally won
its way to an annual production of many thousands
of cells, worth millions of dollars.

Two or three thousand of the first experiments followed
the line of his well-known primary battery in
the attempted employment of copper oxide as an
element in a new type of storage cell; but its use
offered no advantages, and the hunt was continued
in other directions and pursued until Edison satisfied
himself by a vast number of experiments that nickel
and iron possessed the desirable qualifications he was
in search of.

This immense amount of investigation which had
consumed so many months of time, and which had
culminated in the discovery of a series of reactions
between nickel and iron that bore great promise,
brought Edison merely within sight of a strange and
hitherto unexplored country. Slowly but surely the
results of the last few thousands of his preliminary
experiments had pointed inevitably to a new and
fruitful region ahead. He had discovered the hidden
passage and held the clew which he had so industriously
sought. And now, having outlined a definite path,
Edison was all afire to push ahead vigorously in order
that he might enter in and possess the land.

It is a trite saying that "history repeats itself,"
and certainly no axiom carries more truth than this
when applied to the history of each of Edison's
important inventions. The development of the storage
battery has been no exception; indeed, far from
otherwise, for in the ten years that have elapsed since
the time he set himself and his mechanics, chemists,
machinists, and experimenters at work to develop a
practical commercial cell, the old story of incessant
and persistent efforts so manifest in the working out
of other inventions was fully repeated.

Very soon after he had decided upon the use of
nickel and iron as the elemental metals for his storage
battery, Edison established a chemical plant at Silver
Lake, New Jersey, a few miles from the Orange
laboratory, on land purchased some time previously.
This place was the scene of the further experiments
to develop the various chemical forms of nickel and
iron, and to determine by tests what would be best
adapted for use in cells manufactured on a com-
mercial scale. With a little handful of selected
experimenters gathered about him, Edison settled down
to one of his characteristic struggles for supremacy.
To some extent it was a revival of the old Menlo
Park days (or, rather, nights). Some of these who
had worked on the preliminary experiments, with the
addition of a few new-comers, toiled together regardless
of passing time and often under most discouraging
circumstances, but with that remarkable esprit
de corps that has ever marked Edison's relations with
his co-workers, and that has contributed so largely
to the successful carrying out of his ideas.

The group that took part in these early years of
Edison's arduous labors included his old-time assistant,
Fred Ott, together with his chemist, J. W.
Aylsworth, as well as E. J. Ross, Jr., W. E. Holland,
and Ralph Arbogast, and a little later W. G. Bee, all
of whom have grown up with the battery and still
devote their energies to its commercial development.
One of these workers, relating the strenuous experiences
of these few years, says: "It was hard work
and long hours, but still there were some things that
made life pleasant. One of them was the supper-hour
we enjoyed when we worked nights. Mr. Edison
would have supper sent in about midnight, and we
all sat down together, including himself. Work was
forgotten for the time, and all hands were ready for
fun. I have very pleasant recollections of Mr. Edison
at these times. He would always relax and help to
make a good time, and on some occasions I have seen
him fairly overflow with animal spirits, just like a boy
let out from school. After the supper-hour was over,
however, he again became the serious, energetic inventor,
deeply immersed in the work at hand.

"He was very fond of telling and hearing stories,
and always appreciated a joke. I remember one that
he liked to get off on us once in a while. Our lighting
plant was in duplicate, and about 12.30 or 1 o'clock
in the morning, at the close of the supper-hour, a
change would be made from one plant to the other,
involving the gradual extinction of the electric lights
and their slowly coming up to candle-power again,
the whole change requiring probably about thirty
seconds. Sometimes, as this was taking place, Edison
would fold his hands, compose himself as if he
were in sound sleep, and when the lights were full
again would apparently wake up, with the remark,
`Well, boys, we've had a fine rest; now let's pitch into
work again.' "

Another interesting and amusing reminiscence of
this period of activity has been gathered from another
of the family of experimenters: "Sometimes,
when Mr. Edison had been working long hours, he
would want to have a short sleep. It was one of the
funniest things I ever witnessed to see him crawl into
an ordinary roll-top desk and curl up and take a nap.
If there was a sight that was still more funny, it was
to see him turn over on his other side, all the time
remaining in the desk. He would use several volumes
of Watts's Dictionary of Chemistry for a pillow, and
we fellows used to say that he absorbed the contents
during his sleep, judging from the flow of new ideas
he had on waking."

Such incidents as these serve merely to illustrate
the lighter moments that stand out in relief against
the more sombre background of the strenuous years,
for, of all the absorbingly busy periods of Edison's
inventive life, the first five years of the storage-
battery era was one of the very busiest of them all. It
was not that there remained any basic principle to
be discovered or simplified, for that had already been
done; but it was in the effort to carry these principles
into practice that there arose the numerous
difficulties that at times seemed insurmountable.
But, according to another co-worker, "Edison seemed
pleased when he used to run up against a serious
difficulty. It would seem to stiffen his backbone
and make him more prolific of new ideas. For a
time I thought I was foolish to imagine such a thing,
but I could never get away from the impression that
he really appeared happy when he ran up against
a serious snag. That was in my green days, and I
soon learned that the failure of an experiment never
discourages him unless it is by reason of the carelessness
of the man making it. Then Edison gets disgusted.
If it fails on its merits, he doesn't worry or
fret about it, but, on the contrary, regards it as a
useful fact learned; remains cheerful and tries something
else. I have known him to reverse an unsuccessful
experiment and come out all right."

To follow Edison's trail in detail through the
innumerable twists and turns of his experimentation
and research on the storage battery, during the past
ten years, would not be in keeping with the scope of
this narrative, nor would it serve any useful purpose.
Besides, such details would fill a big volume. The
narrative, however, would not be complete without
some mention of the general outline of his work, and
reference may be made briefly to a few of the chief
items. And lest the reader think that the word
"innumerable" may have been carelessly or hastily
used above, we would quote the reply of one of the
laboratory assistants when asked how many experiments
had been made on the Edison storage battery
since the year 1900: "Goodness only knows! We
used to number our experiments consecutively from
1 to 10,000, and when we got up to 10,000 we turned
back to 1 and ran up to 10,000 again, and so on.
We ran through several series--I don't know how
many, and have lost track of them now, but it was
not far from fifty thousand."

From the very first, Edison's broad idea of his
storage battery was to make perforated metallic
containers having the active materials packed therein;
nickel hydrate for the positive and iron oxide for the
negative plate. This plan has been adhered to
throughout, and has found its consummation in the
present form of the completed commercial cell, but
in the middle ground which stands between the early
crude beginnings and the perfected type of to-day
there lies a world of original thought, patient plodding,
and achievement.

The first necessity was naturally to obtain the best
and purest compounds for active materials. Edison
found that comparatively little was known by manufacturing
chemists about nickel and iron oxides of the
high grade and purity he required. Hence it became
necessary for him to establish his own chemical works
and put them in charge of men specially trained by
himself, with whom he worked. This was the plant
at Silver Lake, above referred to. Here, for several
years, there was ceaseless activity in the preparation
of these chemical compounds by every imaginable
process and subsequent testing. Edison's chief chemist
says: "We left no stone unturned to find a way
of making those chemicals so that they would give
the highest results. We carried on the experiments
with the two chemicals together. Sometimes the
nickel would be ahead in the tests, and then again
it would fall behind. To stimulate us to greater
improvement, Edison hung up a card which showed
the results of tests in milliampere-hours given by the
experimental elements as we tried them with the
various grades of nickel and iron we had made. This
stirred up a great deal of ambition among the boys
to push the figures up. Some of our earliest tests
showed around 300, but as we improved the material,
they gradually crept up to over 500. Just
about that time Edison made a trip to Canada, and
when he came back we had made such good progress
that the figures had crept up to about 1000. I well
remember how greatly he was pleased."

In speaking of the development of the negative
element of the battery, Mr. Aylsworth said: "In
like manner the iron element had to be developed
and improved; and finally the iron, which had generally
enjoyed superiority in capacity over its companion,
the nickel element, had to go in training in
order to retain its lead, which was imperative, in
order to produce a uniform and constant voltage
curve. In talking with me one day about the difficulties
under which we were working and contrasting
them with the phonograph experimentation,
Edison said: `In phonographic work we can use our
ears and our eyes, aided with powerful microscopes;
but in the battery our difficulties cannot be seen or
heard, but must be observed by our mind's eye!' And
by reason of the employment of such vision in the past,
Edison is now able to see quite clearly through the
forest of difficulties after eliminating them one by
one."

The size and shape of the containing pockets in the
battery plates or elements and the degree of their
perforation were matters that received many years of
close study and experiment; indeed, there is still to-
day constant work expended on their perfection,
although their present general form was decided upon
several years ago. The mechanical construction of
the battery, as a whole, in its present form, compels
instant admiration on account of its beauty and
completeness. Mr. Edison has spared neither thought,
ingenuity, labor, nor money in the effort to make it
the most complete and efficient storage cell obtainable,
and the results show that his skill, judgment,
and foresight have lost nothing of the power that
laid the foundation of, and built up, other great arts at
each earlier stage of his career.

Among the complex and numerous problems that
presented themselves in the evolution of the battery
was the one concerning the internal conductivity of
the positive unit. The nickel hydrate was a poor
electrical conductor, and although a metallic nickel
pocket might be filled with it, there would not be
the desired electrical action unless a conducting
substance were mixed with it, and so incorporated and
packed that there would be good electrical contact
throughout. This proved to be a most knotty and
intricate puzzle--tricky and evasive--always leading
on and promising something, and at the last slipping
away leaving the work undone. Edison's remarkable
patience and persistence in dealing with this
trying problem and in finally solving it successfully
won for him more than ordinary admiration from his
associates. One of them, in speaking of the seemingly
interminable experiments to overcome this
trouble, said: "I guess that question of conductivity
of the positive pocket brought lots of gray hairs to
his head. I never dreamed a man could have such
patience and perseverance. Any other man than
Edison would have given the whole thing up a thousand
times, but not he! Things looked awfully blue
to the whole bunch of us many a time, but he was
always hopeful. I remember one time things looked
so dark to me that I had just about made up my
mind to throw up my job, but some good turn came
just then and I didn't. Now I'm glad I held on, for
we've got a great future."

The difficulty of obtaining good electrical contact
in the positive element was indeed Edison's chief
trouble for many years. After a great amount of
work and experimentation he decided upon a certain
form of graphite, which seemed to be suitable for the
purpose, and then proceeded to the commercial
manufacture of the battery at a special factory in
Glen Ridge, New Jersey, installed for the purpose.
There was no lack of buyers, but, on the contrary,
the factory was unable to turn out batteries enough.
The newspapers had previously published articles
showing the unusual capacity and performance of the
battery, and public interest had thus been greatly
awakened.

Notwithstanding the establishment of a regular
routine of manufacture and sale, Edison did not
cease to experiment for improvement. Although
the graphite apparently did the work desired of it,
he was not altogether satisfied with its performance
and made extended trials of other substances, but at
that time found nothing that on the whole served
the purpose better. Continuous tests of the commercial
cells were carried on at the laboratory, as
well as more practical and heavy tests in automobiles,
which were constantly kept running around the adjoining
country over all kinds of roads. All these
tests were very closely watched by Edison, who demanded
rigorously that the various trials of the
battery should be carried on with all strenuousness
so as to get the utmost results and develop any possible
weakness. So insistent was he on this, that if
any automobile should run several days without
bursting a tire or breaking some part of the machine,
he would accuse the chauffeur of picking out easy
roads.

After these tests had been going on for some time,
and some thousands of cells had been sold and were
giving satisfactory results to the purchasers, the test
sheets and experience gathered from various sources
pointed to the fact that occasionally a cell here and
there would show up as being short in capacity.
Inasmuch as the factory processes were very exact
and carefully guarded, and every cell was made as
uniform as human skill and care could provide,
there thus arose a serious problem. Edison
concentrated his powers on the investigation of this
trouble, and found that the chief cause lay in the
graphite. Some other minor matters also attracted
his attention. What to do, was the important question
that confronted him. To shut down the factory
meant great loss and apparent failure. He realized
this fully, but he also knew that to go on would simply
be to increase the number of defective batteries in
circulation, which would ultimately result in a
permanent closure and real failure. Hence he took the
course which one would expect of Edison's common
sense and directness of action. He was not satisfied
that the battery was a complete success, so he shut
down and went to experimenting once more.

"And then," says one of the laboratory men, "we
started on another series of record-breaking experiments
that lasted over five years. I might almost
say heart-breaking, too, for of all the elusive,
disappointing things one ever hunted for that was the
worst. But secrets have to be long-winded and
roost high if they want to get away when the `Old
Man' goes hunting for them. He doesn't get mad
when he misses them, but just keeps on smiling and
firing, and usually brings them into camp. That's
what he did on the battery, for after a whole lot of
work he perfected the nickel-flake idea and process,
besides making the great improvement of using
tubes instead of flat pockets for the positive. He
also added a minor improvement here and there, and
now we have a finer battery than we ever expected."

In the interim, while the experimentation of these
last five years was in progress, many customers who
had purchased batteries of the original type came
knocking at the door with orders in their hands for
additional outfits wherewith to equip more wagons
and trucks. Edison expressed his regrets, but said
he was not satisfied with the old cells and was
engaged in improving them. To which the customers
replied that THEY were entirely satisfied and ready and
willing to pay for more batteries of the same kind;
but Edison could not be moved from his determination,
although considerable pressure was at times
brought to bear to sway his decision.

Experiment was continued beyond the point of
peradventure, and after some new machinery had
been built, the manufacture of the new type of cell
was begun in the early summer of 1909, and at the
present writing is being extended as fast as the
necessary additional machinery can be made. The
product is shipped out as soon as it is completed.

The nickel flake, which is Edison's ingenious solution
of the conductivity problem, is of itself a most
interesting product, intensely practical in its
application and fascinating in its manufacture. The
flake of nickel is obtained by electroplating upon a
metallic cylinder alternate layers of copper and
nickel, one hundred of each, after which the combined
sheet is stripped from the cylinder. So thin
are the layers that this sheet is only about the thickness
of a visiting-card, and yet it is composed of two
hundred layers of metal. The sheet is cut into tiny
squares, each about one-sixteenth of an inch, and
these squares are put into a bath where the copper
is dissolved out. This releases the layers of nickel,
so that each of these small squares becomes one
hundred tiny sheets, or flakes, of pure metallic nickel,
so thin that when they are dried they will float in the
air, like thistle-down.

In their application to the manufacture of batteries,
the flakes are used through the medium of a special
machine, so arranged that small charges of nickel
hydrate and nickel flake are alternately fed into the
pockets intended for positives, and tamped down with
a pressure equal to about four tons per square inch.
This insures complete and perfect contact and consequent
electrical conductivity throughout the entire
unit.

The development of the nickel flake contains in itself
a history of patient investigation, labor, and
achievement, but we have not space for it, nor for
tracing the great work that has been done in developing
and perfecting the numerous other parts and
adjuncts of this remarkable battery. Suffice it to
say that when Edison went boldly out into new territory,
after something entirely unknown, he was quite
prepared for hard work and exploration. He encountered
both in unstinted measure, but kept on
going forward until, after long travel, he had found
all that he expected and accomplished something
more beside. Nature DID respond to his whole-
hearted appeal, and, by the time the hunt was ended,
revealed a good storage battery of entirely new type.
Edison not only recognized and took advantage of
the principles he had discovered, but in adapting
them for commercial use developed most ingenious
processes and mechanical appliances for carrying his
discoveries into practical effect. Indeed, it may be
said that the invention of an enormous variety of
new machines and mechanical appliances rendered
necessary by each change during the various stages
of development of the battery, from first to last,
stands as a lasting tribute to the range and versatility
of his powers.

It is not within the scope of this narrative to enter
into any description of the relative merits of the
Edison storage battery, that being the province of a
commercial catalogue. It does, however, seem entirely
allowable to say that while at the present
writing the tests that have been made extend over a
few years only, their results and the intrinsic value
of this characteristic Edison invention are of such a
substantial nature as to point to the inevitable
growth of another great industry arising from its
manufacture, and to its wide-spread application to
many uses.

The principal use that Edison has had in mind for
his battery is transportation of freight and passengers
by truck, automobile, and street-car. The greatly
increased capacity in proportion to weight of the
Edison cell makes it particularly adaptable for this
class of work on account of the much greater radius
of travel that is possible by its use. The latter point
of advantage is the one that appeals most to the
automobilist, as he is thus enabled to travel, it is
asserted, more than three times farther than ever
before on a single charge of the battery.

Edison believes that there are important advantages
possible in the employment of his storage battery
for street-car propulsion. Under the present
system of operation, a plant furnishing the electric
power for street railways must be large enough to
supply current for the maximum load during "rush
hours," although much of the machinery may be
lying idle and unproductive in the hours of minimum
load. By the use of storage-battery cars, this
immense and uneconomical maximum investment in
plant can be cut down to proportions of true commercial
economy, as the charging of the batteries can
be conducted at a uniform rate with a reasonable
expenditure for generating machinery. Not only this,
but each car becomes an independently moving unit,
not subject to delay by reason of a general breakdown
of the power plant or of the line. In addition
to these advantages, the streets would be freed from
their burden of trolley wires or conduits. To put his
ideas into practice, Edison built a short railway line
at the Orange works in the winter of 1909-10, and, in
co-operation with Mr. R. H. Beach, constructed a
special type of street-car, and equipped it with motor,
storage battery, and other necessary operating devices.
This car was subsequently put upon the street-car
lines in New York City, and demonstrated its efficiency
so completely that it was purchased by one
of the street-car companies, which has since ordered
additional cars for its lines. The demonstration of
this initial car has been watched with interest by
many railroad officials, and its performance has been
of so successful a nature that at the present writing
(the summer of 1910) it has been necessary to organize
and equip a preliminary factory in which to
construct many other cars of a similar type that
have been ordered by other street-railway companies.
This enterprise will be conducted by a corporation
which has been specially organized for the purpose.
Thus, there has been initiated the development of a
new and important industry whose possible ultimate
proportions are beyond the range of present calculation.
Extensive as this industry may become, however,
Edison is firmly convinced that the greatest
field for his storage battery lies in its adaptation to
commercial trucking and hauling, and to pleasure
vehicles, in comparison with which the street-car
business even with its great possibilities--will not
amount to more than 1 per cent.

Edison has pithily summed up his work and his
views in an article on "The To-Morrows of Electricity
and Invention" in Popular Electricity for June, 1910,
in which he says: "For years past I have been trying
to perfect a storage battery, and have now rendered
it entirely suitable to automobile and other work.
There is absolutely no reason why horses should be
allowed within city limits; for between the gasoline
and the electric car, no room is left for them. They
are not needed. The cow and the pig have gone,
and the horse is still more undesirable. A higher
public ideal of health and cleanliness is working tow-
ard such banishment very swiftly; and then we shall
have decent streets, instead of stables made out of
strips of cobblestones bordered by sidewalks. The
worst use of money is to make a fine thoroughfare,
and then turn it over to horses. Besides that, the
change will put the humane societies out of business.
Many people now charge their own batteries because
of lack of facilities; but I believe central stations
will find in this work very soon the largest part of
their load. The New York Edison Company, or the
Chicago Edison Company, should have as much current
going out for storage batteries as for power
motors; and it will be so some near day."



CHAPTER XXIII

MISCELLANEOUS INVENTIONS

IT has been the endeavor in this narrative to group
Edison's inventions and patents so that his work in
the different fields can be studied independently and
separately. The history of his career has therefore
fallen naturally into a series of chapters, each aiming
to describe some particular development or art; and,
in a way, the plan has been helpful to the writers while
probably useful to the readers. It happens, however,
that the process has left a vast mass of discovery and
invention wholly untouched, and relegates to a
concluding brief chapter some of the most interesting
episodes of a fruitful life. Any one who will turn to the
list of Edison patents at the end of the book will find
a large number of things of which not even casual
mention has been made, but which at the time occupied
no small amount of the inventor's time and attention,
and many of which are now part and parcel of modern
civilization. Edison has, indeed, touched nothing
that he did not in some way improve. As Thoreau
said: "The laws of the Universe are not indifferent,
but are forever on the side of the most sensitive," and
there never was any one more sensitive to the defects
of every art and appliance, nor any one more active in
applying the law of evolution. It is perhaps this
many-sidedness of Edison that has impressed the multitude,
and that in the "popular vote" taken a couple
of years ago by the New York Herald placed his name
at the head of the list of ten greatest living Americans.
It is curious and pertinent to note that a similar
plebiscite taken by a technical journal among its expert
readers had exactly the same result. Evidently the
public does not agree with the opinion expressed by
the eccentric artist Blake in his "Marriage of Heaven
and Hell," when he said: "Improvement makes
strange roads; but the crooked roads without improvements
are roads of Genius."

The product of Edison's brain may be divided into
three classes. The first embraces such arts and industries,
or such apparatus, as have already been treated.
The second includes devices like the tasimeter, phonomotor,
odoroscope, etc., and others now to be noted.
The third embraces a number of projected inventions,
partially completed investigations, inventions in use
but not patented, and a great many caveats filed in
the Patent Office at various times during the last forty
years for the purpose of protecting his ideas pending
their contemplated realization in practice. These
caveats served their purpose thoroughly in many
instances, but there have remained a great variety of
projects upon which no definite action was ever taken.
One ought to add the contents of an unfinished piece
of extraordinary fiction based wholly on new inventions
and devices utterly unknown to mankind. Some
day the novel may be finished, but Edison has no
inclination to go back to it, and says he cannot under-
stand how any man is able to make a speech or write
a book, for he simply can't do it.

After what has been said in previous chapters, it
will not seem so strange that Edison should have
hundreds of dormant inventions on his hands. There
are human limitations even for such a tireless worker
as he is. While the preparation of data for this chapter
was going on, one of the writers in discussing with
him the vast array of unexploited things said: "Don't
you feel a sense of regret in being obliged to leave so
many things uncompleted?" To which he replied:
"What's the use? One lifetime is too short, and I am
busy every day improving essential parts of my established
industries." It must suffice to speak briefly of
a few leading inventions that have been worked out,
and to dismiss with scant mention all the rest, taking
just a few items, as typical and suggestive,
especially when Edison can himself be quoted as to
them. Incidentally it may be noted that things, not
words, are referred to; for Edison, in addition to
inventing the apparatus, has often had to coin the word
to describe it. A large number of the words and
phrases in modern electrical parlance owe their origin
to him. Even the "call-word" of the telephone,
"Hello!" sent tingling over the wire a few million
times daily was taken from Menlo Park by men installing
telephones in different parts of the world, men
who had just learned it at the laboratory, and thus
made it a universal sesame for telephonic conversation.

It is hard to determine where to begin with Edison's
miscellaneous inventions, but perhaps telegraphy has
the "right of line," and Edison's work in that field
puts him abreast of the latest wireless developments
that fill the world with wonder. "I perfected a system
of train telegraphy between stations and trains
in motion whereby messages could be sent from the
moving train to the central office; and this was the
forerunner of wireless telegraphy. This system was
used for a number of years on the Lehigh Valley Railroad
on their construction trains. The electric wave
passed from a piece of metal on top of the car across
the air to the telegraph wires; and then proceeded to
the despatcher's office. In my first experiments with
this system I tried it on the Staten Island Railroad,
and employed an operator named King to do the
experimenting. He reported results every day, and
received instructions by mail; but for some reason he
could send messages all right when the train went in
one direction, but could not make it go in the contrary
direction. I made suggestions of every kind to get
around this phenomenon. Finally I telegraphed King
to find out if he had any suggestions himself; and I
received a reply that the only way he could propose
to get around the difficulty was to put the island on
a pivot so it could be turned around! I found the
trouble finally, and the practical introduction on the
Lehigh Valley road was the result. The system was
sold to a very wealthy man, and he would never sell
any rights or answer letters. He became a spiritualist
subsequently, which probably explains it." It is
interesting to note that Edison became greatly interested
in the later developments by Marconi, and is an admiring
friend and adviser of that well-known inventor.

The earlier experiments with wireless telegraphy at
Menlo Park were made at a time when Edison was
greatly occupied with his electric-light interests, and
it was not until the beginning of 1886 that he was able
to spare the time to make a public demonstration of
the system as applied to moving trains. Ezra T.
Gilliland, of Boston, had become associated with him
in his experiments, and they took out several joint
patents subsequently. The first practical use of the
system took place on a thirteen-mile stretch of the
Staten Island Railroad with the results mentioned
by Edison above.

A little later, Edison and Gilliland joined forces with
Lucius J. Phelps, another investigator, who had been
experimenting along the same lines and had taken
out several patents. The various interests were combined
in a corporation under whose auspices the system
was installed on the Lehigh Valley Railroad,
where it was used for several years. The official
demonstration trip on this road took place on October
6, 1887, on a six-car train running to Easton, Pennsylvania,
a distance of fifty-four miles. A great many
telegrams were sent and received while the train was
at full speed, including a despatch to the "cable king,"
John Pender. London, England, and a reply from
him.[17]


[17] Broadly described in outline, the system consisted of an induction
circuit obtained by laying strips of tin along the top or
roof of a railway car, and the installation of a special telegraph
line running parallel with the track and strung on poles of only
medium height. The train and also each signalling station were
equipped with regulation telegraphic apparatus, such as battery,
key, relay, and sounder, together with induction-coil and condenser.
In addition, there was a transmitting device in the shape of a
musical reed, or buzzer. In practice, this buzzer was continuously
operated at high speed by a battery. Its vibrations were broken
by means of a key into long and short periods, representing Morse
characters, which were transmitted inductively from the train
circuit to the pole line, or vice versa, and received by the operator
at the other end through a high-resistance telephone receiver
inserted in the secondary circuit of the induction-coil.


Although the space between the cars and the pole
line was probably not more than about fifty feet, it is
interesting to note that in Edison's early experiments
at Menlo Park he succeeded in transmitting messages
through the air at a distance of 580 feet. Speaking of
this and of his other experiments with induction
telegraphy by means of kites, communicating from one to
the other and thus from the kites to instruments on
the earth, Edison said recently: "We only transmitted
about two and one-half miles through the kites.
What has always puzzled me since is that I did not
think of using the results of my experiments on
`etheric force' that I made in 1875. I have never
been able to understand how I came to overlook them.
If I had made use of my own work I should have had
long-distance wireless telegraphy."

In one of the appendices to this book is given a brief
technical account of Edison's investigations of the
phenomena which lie at the root of modern wireless
or "space" telegraphy, and the attention of the reader
is directed particularly to the description and quotations
there from the famous note-books of Edison's experiments
in regard to what he called "etheric force."
It will be seen that as early as 1875 Edison detected
and studied certain phenomena--i.e., the production
of electrical effects in non-closed circuits, which for a
time made him think he was on the trail of a new
force, as there was no plausible explanation for them
by the then known laws of electricity and magnetism.
Later came the magnificent work of Hertz identifying
the phenomena as "electromagnetic waves" in the
ether, and developing a new world of theory and
science based upon them and their production by
disruptive discharges.

Edison's assertions were treated with scepticism by
the scientific world, which was not then ready for the
discovery and not sufficiently furnished with corroborative
data. It is singular, to say the least, to note
how Edison's experiments paralleled and proved in
advance those that came later; and even his apparatus
such as the "dark box" for making the tiny sparks
visible (as the waves impinged on the receiver) bears
close analogy with similar apparatus employed by
Hertz. Indeed, as Edison sent the dark-box apparatus
to the Paris Exposition in 1881, and let Batchelor
repeat there the puzzling experiments, it seems by no
means unlikely that, either directly or on the report of
some friend, Hertz may thus have received from
Edison a most valuable suggestion, the inventor
aiding the physicist in opening up a wonderful new
realm. In this connection, indeed, it is very interesting
to quote two great authorities. In May, 1889, at
a meeting of the Institution of Electrical Engineers in
London, Dr. (now Sir) Oliver Lodge remarked in a
discussion on a paper of his own on lightning conductors,
embracing the Hertzian waves in its treatment:
"Many of the effects I have shown--sparks in unsuspected
places and other things--have been observed
before. Henry observed things of the kind and Edison
noticed some curious phenomena, and said it was not
electricity but `etheric force' that caused these sparks;
and the matter was rather pooh-poohed. It was a
small part of THIS VERY THING; only the time was not
ripe; theoretical knowledge was not ready for it."
Again in his "Signalling without Wires," in giving
the history of the coherer principle, Lodge remarks:
"Sparks identical in all respects with those discovered
by Hertz had been seen in recent times both by Edison
and by Sylvanus Thompson, being styled `etheric
force' by the former; but their theoretic significance
had not been perceived, and they were somewhat
sceptically regarded." During the same discussion in
London, in 1889, Sir William Thomson (Lord Kelvin),
after citing some experiments by Faraday with his
insulated cage at the Royal Institution, said: "His
(Faraday's) attention was not directed to look for
Hertz sparks, or probably he might have found them
in the interior. Edison seems to have noticed something
of the kind in what he called `etheric force.'
His name `etheric' may thirteen years ago have
seemed to many people absurd. But now we are all
beginning to call these inductive phenomena `etheric.'
"With which testimony from the great Kelvin
as to his priority in determining the vital fact, and
with the evidence that as early as 1875 he built apparatus
that demonstrated the fact, Edison is probably
quite content.

It should perhaps be noted at this point that a
curious effect observed at the laboratory was shown
in connection with Edison lamps at the Philadelphia
Exhibition of 1884. It became known in scientific
parlance as the "Edison effect," showing a curious
current condition or discharge in the vacuum of the
bulb. It has since been employed by Fleming in
England and De Forest in this country, and others,
as the basis for wireless-telegraph apparatus. It is in
reality a minute rectifier of alternating current, and
analogous to those which have since been made on a
large scale.

When Roentgen came forward with his discovery of
the new "X"-ray in 1895, Edison was ready for it, and
took up experimentation with it on a large scale; some
of his work being recorded in an article in the Century
Magazine of May, 1896, where a great deal of data may
be found. Edison says with regard to this work:
"When the X-ray came up, I made the first fluoroscope,
using tungstate of calcium. I also found that
this tungstate could be put into a vacuum chamber of
glass and fused to the inner walls of the chamber; and
if the X-ray electrodes were let into the glass chamber
and a proper vacuum was attained, you could get a
fluorescent lamp of several candle-power. I started in
to make a number of these lamps, but I soon found
that the X-ray had affected poisonously my assistant,
Mr. Dally, so that his hair came out and his flesh
commenced to ulcerate. I then concluded it would not
do, and that it would not be a very popular kind of
light; so I dropped it.

"At the time I selected tungstate of calcium because
it was so fluorescent, I set four men to making all kinds
of chemical combinations, and thus collected upward
of 8000 different crystals of various chemical combinations,
discovering several hundred different sub-
stances which would fluoresce to the X-ray. So far
little had come of X-ray work, but it added another
letter to the scientific alphabet. I don't know any
thing about radium, and I have lots of company."
The Electrical Engineer of June 3, 1896, contains a
photograph of Mr. Edison taken by the light of one of
his fluorescent lamps. The same journal in its issue
of April 1, 1896, shows an Edison fluoroscope in use
by an observer, in the now familiar and universal
form somewhat like a stereoscope. This apparatus as
invented by Edison consists of a flaring box, curved
at one end to fit closely over the forehead and eyes,
while the other end of the box is closed by a paste-
board cover. On the inside of this is spread a layer
of tungstate of calcium. By placing the object to be
observed, such as the hand, between the vacuum-tube
and the fluorescent screen, the "shadow" is formed on
the screen and can be observed at leisure. The apparatus
has proved invaluable in surgery and has become
an accepted part of the equipment of modern surgery.
In 1896, at the Electrical Exhibition in the Grand
Central Palace, New York City, given under the
auspices of the National Electric Light Association,
thousands and thousands of persons with the use of
this apparatus in Edison's personal exhibit were
enabled to see their own bones; and the resultant
public sensation was great. Mr. Mallory tells a
characteristic story of Edison's own share in the memorable
exhibit: "The exhibit was announced for opening
on Monday. On the preceding Friday all the apparatus,
which included a large induction-coil, was shipped
from Orange to New York, and on Saturday afternoon
Edison, accompanied by Fred Ott, one of his assistants,
and myself, went over to install it so as to have
it ready for Monday morning. Had everything been
normal, a few hours would have sufficed for completion
of the work, but on coming to test the big coil, it was
found to be absolutely out of commission, having been
so seriously injured as to necessitate its entire
rewinding. It being summer-time, all the machine shops
were closed until Monday morning, and there were
several miles of wire to be wound on the coil. Edison
would not consider a postponement of the exhibition,
so there was nothing to do but go to work and wind it
by hand. We managed to find a lathe, but there was
no power; so each of us, including Edison, took turns
revolving the lathe by pulling on the belt, while the
other two attended to the winding of the wire. We
worked continuously all through that Saturday night
and all day Sunday until evening, when we finished
the job. I don't remember ever being conscious of
more muscles in my life. I guess Edison was tired
also, but he took it very philosophically." This was
apparently the first public demonstration of the X-ray
to the American public.

Edison's ore-separation work has been already fully
described, but the story would hardly be complete
without a reference to similar work in gold extraction,
dating back to the Menlo Park days: "I got up a
method," says Edison, "of separating placer gold by
a dry process, in which I could work economically ore
as lean as five cents of gold to the cubic yard. I had
several car-loads of different placer sands sent to me
and proved I could do it. Some parties hearing I had
succeeded in doing such a thing went to work and got
hold of what was known as the Ortiz mine grant,
twelve miles from Santa Fe, New Mexico. This mine,
according to the reports of several mining engineers
made in the last forty years, was considered one of the
richest placer deposits in the United States, and
various schemes had been put forward to bring water
from the mountains forty miles away to work those
immense beds. The reports stated that the Mexicans
had been panning gold for a hundred years out of these
deposits.

"These parties now made arrangements with the
stockholders or owners of the grant, and with me, to
work the deposits by my process. As I had had some
previous experience with the statements of mining
men, I concluded I would just send down a small plant
and prospect the field before putting up a large one.
This I did, and I sent two of my assistants, whom I
could trust, down to this place to erect the plant; and
started to sink shafts fifty feet deep all over the area.
We soon learned that the rich gravel, instead of being
spread over an area of three by seven miles, and rich
from the grass roots down, was spread over a space of
about twenty-five acres, and that even this did not
average more than ten cents to the cubic yard. The
whole placer would not give more than one and one-
quarter cents per cubic yard. As my business
arrangements had not been very perfectly made, I lost
the usual amount."

Going to another extreme, we find Edison grappling
with one of the biggest problems known to the authorities
of New York--the disposal of its heavy snows.
It is needless to say that witnessing the ordinary slow
and costly procedure would put Edison on his mettle.
"One time when they had a snow blockade in New
York I started to build a machine with Batchelor--a
big truck with a steam-engine and compressor on it.
We would run along the street, gather all the snow up
in front of us, pass it into the compressor, and deliver
little blocks of ice behind us in the gutter, taking one-
tenth the room of the snow, and not inconveniencing
anybody. We could thus take care of a snow-storm
by diminishing the bulk of material to be handled.
The preliminary experiment we made was dropped
because we went into other things. The machine
would go as fast as a horse could walk."

Edison has always taken a keen interest in aerial
flight, and has also experimented with aeroplanes, his
preference inclining to the helicopter type, as noted
in the newspapers and periodicals from time to time.
The following statement from him refers to a type of
aeroplane of great novelty and ingenuity: "James
Gordon Bennett came to me and asked that I try
some primary experiments to see if aerial navigation
was feasible with `heavier-than-air' machines. I got
up a motor and put it on the scales and tried a large
number of different things and contrivances connected
to the motor, to see how it would lighten itself on the
scales. I got some data and made up my mind that
what was needed was a very powerful engine for its
weight, in small compass. So I conceived of an engine
employing guncotton. I took a lot of ticker paper
tape, turned it into guncotton and got up an engine
with an arrangement whereby I could feed this gun-
cotton strip into the cylinder and explode it inside
electrically. The feed took place between two copper
rolls. The copper kept the temperature down, so that
it could only explode up to the point where it was in
contact with the feed rolls. It worked pretty well;
but once the feed roll didn't save it, and the flame
went through and exploded the whole roll and kicked
up such a bad explosion I abandoned it. But the
idea might be made to work."

Turning from the air to the earth, it is interesting to
note that the introduction of the underground Edison
system in New York made an appeal to inventive
ingenuity and that one of the difficulties was met as
follows: "When we first put the Pearl Street station
in operation, in New York, we had cast-iron junction-
boxes at the intersections of all the streets. One
night, or about two o'clock in the morning, a policeman
came in and said that something had exploded
at the corner of William and Nassau streets. I happened
to be in the station, and went out to see what it
was. I found that the cover of the manhole, weighing
about 200 pounds, had entirely disappeared, but
everything inside was intact. It had even stripped
some of the threads of the bolts, and we could never
find that cover. I concluded it was either leakage of
gas into the manhole, or else the acid used in pickling
the casting had given off hydrogen, and air had leaked
in, making an explosive mixture. As this was a pretty
serious problem, and as we had a good many of the
manholes, it worried me very much for fear that it
would be repeated and the company might have to
pay a lot of damages, especially in districts like that
around William and Nassau, where there are a good
many people about. If an explosion took place in the
daytime it might lift a few of them up. However, I
got around the difficulty by putting a little bottle of
chloroform in each box, corked up, with a slight hole
in the cork. The chloroform being volatile and very
heavy, settled in the box and displaced all the air. I
have never heard of an explosion in a manhole where
this chloroform had been used. Carbon tetrachloride,
now made electrically at Niagara Falls, is very cheap
and would be ideal for the purpose."

Edison has never paid much attention to warfare,
and has in general disdained to develop inventions for
the destruction of life and property. Some years ago,
however, he became the joint inventor of the Edison-
Sims torpedo, with Mr. W. Scott Sims, who sought his
co-operation. This is a dirigible submarine torpedo
operated by electricity. In the torpedo proper, which
is suspended from a long float so as to be submerged
a few feet under water, are placed the small electric
motor for propulsion and steering, and the explosive
charge. The torpedo is controlled from the shore or
ship through an electric cable which it pays out as it
goes along, and all operations of varying the speed,
reversing, and steering are performed at the will of the
distant operator by means of currents sent through
the cable. During the Spanish-American War of 1898
Edison suggested to the Navy Department the adoption
of a compound of calcium carbide and calcium
phosphite, which when placed in a shell and fired from
a gun would explode as soon as it struck water and
ignite, producing a blaze that would continue several
minutes and make the ships of the enemy visible for
four or five miles at sea. Moreover, the blaze could
not be extinguished.

Edison has always been deeply interested in
"conservation," and much of his work has been directed
toward the economy of fuel in obtaining electrical
energy directly from the consumption of coal. Indeed,
it will be noted that the example of his handwriting
shown in these volumes deals with the importance of
obtaining available energy direct from the combustible
without the enormous loss in the intervening stages
that makes our best modern methods of steam generation
and utilization so barbarously extravagant and
wasteful. Several years ago, experimenting in this
field, Edison devised and operated some ingenious
pyromagnetic motors and generators, based, as the
name implies, on the direct application of heat to the
machines. The motor is founded upon the principle
discovered by the famous Dr. William Gilbert--court
physician to Queen Elizabeth, and the Father of
modern electricity--that the magnetic properties of
iron diminish with heat. At a light-red heat, iron
becomes non-magnetic, so that a strong magnet exerts
no influence over it. Edison employed this peculiar
property by constructing a small machine in which a
pivoted bar is alternately heated and cooled. It is
thus attracted toward an adjacent electromagnet
when cold and is uninfluenced when hot, and as the
result motion is produced.

The pyromagnetic generator is based on the same
phenomenon; its aim being of course to generate electrical
energy directly from the heat of the combustible.
The armature, or moving part of the machine, consists
in reality of eight separate armatures all constructed
of corrugated sheet iron covered with asbestos and
wound with wire. These armatures are held in place
by two circular iron plates, through the centre of
which runs a shaft, carrying at its lower extremity a
semicircular shield of fire-clay, which covers the ends
of four of the armatures. The heat, of whatever origin,
is applied from below, and the shaft being revolved,
four of the armatures lose their magnetism
constantly, while the other four gain it, so to speak.
As the moving part revolves, therefore, currents of
electricity are set up in the wires of the armatures and
are collected by a commutator, as in an ordinary
dynamo, placed on the upper end of the central shaft.

A great variety of electrical instruments are
included in Edison's inventions, many of these in
fundamental or earlier forms being devised for his systems
of light and power, as noted already. There are
numerous others, and it might be said with truth that
Edison is hardly ever without some new device of this
kind in hand, as he is by no means satisfied with the
present status of electrical measurements. He holds
in general that the meters of to-day, whether for heavy
or for feeble currents, are too expensive, and that
cheaper instruments are a necessity of the times.
These remarks apply more particularly to what may
be termed, in general, circuit meters. In other classes
Edison has devised an excellent form of magnetic
bridge, being an ingenious application of the principles
of the familiar Wheatstone bridge, used so extensively
for measuring the electrical resistance of wires; the
testing of iron for magnetic qualities being determined
by it in the same way. Another special instrument
is a "dead beat" galvanometer which differs from the
ordinary form of galvanometer in having no coils or
magnetic needle. It depends for its action upon the
heating effect of the current, which causes a fine
platinum-iridium wire enclosed in a glass tube to
expand; thus allowing a coiled spring to act on a
pivoted shaft carrying a tiny mirror. The mirror as
it moves throws a beam of light upon a scale and the
indications are read by the spot of light. Most novel
of all the apparatus of this measuring kind is the
odoroscope, which is like the tasimeter described in
an earlier chapter, except that a strip of gelatine takes
the place of hard rubber, as the sensitive member.
Besides being affected by heat, this device is exceedingly
sensitive to moisture. A few drops of water or
perfume thrown on the floor of a room are sufficient
to give a very decided indication on the galvanometer
in circuit with the instrument. Barometers, hygrometers,
and similar instruments of great delicacy can
be constructed on the principle of the odoroscope;
and it may also be used in determining the character
or pressure of gases and vapors in which it has been
placed.

In the list of Edison's patents at the end of this
work may be noted many other of his miscellaneous
inventions, covering items such as preserving fruit
in vacuo, making plate-glass, drawing wire, and
metallurgical processes for treatment of nickel, gold, and
copper ores; but to mention these inventions separately
would trespass too much on our limited space
here. Hence, we shall leave the interested reader to
examine that list for himself.

From first to last Edison has filed in the United States
Patent Office--in addition to more than 1400 applications
for patents--some 120 caveats embracing not
less than 1500 inventions. A "caveat" is essentially
a notice filed by an inventor, entitling him to receive
warning from the Office of any application for a patent
for an invention that would "interfere" with his own,
during the year, while he is supposed to be perfecting
his device. The old caveat system has now been
abolished, but it served to elicit from Edison a most
astounding record of ideas and possible inventions
upon which he was working, and many of which he of
course reduced to practice. As an example of Edison's
fertility and the endless variety of subjects engaging
his thoughts, the following list of matters covered by
ONE caveat is given. It is needless to say that all the
caveats are not quite so full of "plums," but this is
certainly a wonder.

Forty-one distinct inventions relating to the phonograph,
covering various forms of recorders, arrangement
of parts, making of records, shaving tool, adjustments,
etc.

Eight forms of electric lamps using infusible earthy
oxides and brought to high incandescence in vacuo by
high potential current of several thousand volts; same
character as impingement of X-rays on object in bulb.

A loud-speaking telephone with quartz cylinder and
beam of ultra-violet light.

Four forms of arc light with special carbons.

A thermostatic motor.

A device for sealing together the inside part and
bulb of an incandescent lamp mechanically.

Regulators for dynamos and motors.

Three devices for utilizing vibrations beyond the
ultra violet.

A great variety of methods for coating incandescent
lamp filaments with silicon, titanium, chromium,
osmium, boron, etc.

Several methods of making porous filaments.

Several methods of making squirted filaments of a
variety of materials, of which about thirty are specified.

Seventeen different methods and devices for separating
magnetic ores.

A continuously operative primary battery.

A musical instrument operating one of Helmholtz's
artificial larynxes.

A siren worked by explosion of small quantities of
oxygen and hydrogen mixed.

Three other sirens made to give vocal sounds or
articulate speech.

A device for projecting sound-waves to a distance
without spreading and in a straight line, on the principle
of smoke rings.

A device for continuously indicating on a galvanometer
the depths of the ocean.

A method of preventing in a great measure friction
of water against the hull of a ship and incidentally
preventing fouling by barnacles.

A telephone receiver whereby the vibrations of the
diaphragm are considerably amplified.

Two methods of "space" telegraphy at sea.

An improved and extended string telephone.

Devices and method of talking through water for
considerable distances.

An audiphone for deaf people.

Sound-bridge for measuring resistance of tubes and
other materials for conveying sound.

A method of testing a magnet to ascertain the existence
of flaws in the iron or steel composing the same.

Method of distilling liquids by incandescent conductor
immersed in the liquid.

Method of obtaining electricity direct from coal.

An engine operated by steam produced by the
hydration and dehydration of metallic salts.

Device and method for telegraphing photographically.

Carbon crucible kept brilliantly incandescent by
current in vacuo, for obtaining reaction with refractory
metals.

Device for examining combinations of odors and
their changes by rotation at different speeds.

From one of the preceding items it will be noted
that even in the eighties Edison perceived much advantage
to be gained in the line of economy by the use
of lamp filaments employing refractory metals in their
construction. From another caveat, filed in 1889, we
extract the following, which shows that he realized the
value of tungsten also for this purpose. "Filaments
of carbon placed in a combustion tube with a little
chloride ammonium. Chloride tungsten or titanium
passed through hot tube, depositing a film of metal on
the carbon; or filaments of zirconia oxide, or alumina
or magnesia, thoria or other infusible oxides mixed or
separate, and obtained by moistening and squirting
through a die, are thus coated with above metals and
used for incandescent lamps. Osmium from a volatile
compound of same thus deposited makes a filament
as good as carbon when in vacuo."

In 1888, long before there arose the actual necessity
of duplicating phonograph records so as to produce
replicas in great numbers, Edison described in one of
his caveats a method and process much similar to the
one which was put into practice by him in later years.
In the same caveat he describes an invention whereby
the power to indent on a phonograph cylinder, instead
of coming directly from the voice, is caused by power
derived from the rotation or movement of the phonogram
surface itself. He did not, however, follow up
this invention and put it into practice. Some twenty
years later it was independently invented and patented
by another inventor. A further instance of this kind
is a method of telegraphy at sea by means of a diaphragm
in a closed port-hole flush with the side of the
vessel, and actuated by a steam-whistle which is controlled
by a lever, similarly to a Morse key. A receiving
diaphragm is placed in another and near-by chamber,
which is provided with very sensitive stethoscopic
ear-pieces, by which the Morse characters sent from
another vessel may be received. This was also invented
later by another inventor, and is in use to-day,
but will naturally be rivalled by wireless telegraphy.
Still another instance is seen in one of Edison's caveats,
where he describes a method of distilling liquids by
means of internally applied heat through electric
conductors. Although Edison did not follow up the idea
and take out a patent, this system of distillation was
later hit upon by others and is in use at the present
time.

In the foregoing pages of this chapter the authors
have endeavored to present very briefly a sketchy
notion of the astounding range of Edison's practical
ideas, but they feel a sense of impotence in being unable
to deal adequately with the subject in the space
that can be devoted to it. To those who, like the
authors, have had the privilege of examining the
voluminous records which show the flights of his
imagination, there comes a feeling of utter inadequacy
to convey to others the full extent of the story they
reveal.

The few specific instances above related, although
not representing a tithe of Edison's work, will probably
be sufficient to enable the reader to appreciate
to some extent his great wealth of ideas and fertility
of imagination, and also to realize that this imagination
is not only intensely practical, but that it works
prophetically along lines of natural progress.



CHAPTER XXIV

EDISON'S METHOD IN INVENTING

WHILE the world's progress depends largely upon
their ingenuity, inventors are not usually persons
who have adopted invention as a distinct profession,
but, generally speaking, are otherwise engaged
in various walks of life. By reason of more or
less inherent native genius they either make improvements
along lines of present occupation, or else
evolve new methods and means of accomplishing
results in fields for which they may have personal
predilections.

Now and then, however, there arises a man so
greatly endowed with natural powers and originality
that the creative faculty within him is too strong to
endure the humdrum routine of affairs, and manifests
itself in a life devoted entirely to the evolution of
methods and devices calculated to further the world's
welfare. In other words, he becomes an inventor by
profession. Such a man is Edison. Notwithstanding
the fact that nearly forty years ago (not a great while
after he had emerged from the ranks of peripatetic
telegraph operators) he was the owner of a large and
profitable business as a manufacturer of the telegraphic
apparatus invented by him, the call of his
nature was too strong to allow of profits being laid
away in the bank to accumulate. As he himself has
said, he has "too sanguine a temperament to allow
money to stay in solitary confinement." Hence, all
superfluous cash was devoted to experimentation. In
the course of years he grew more and more impatient
of the shackles that bound him to business routine,
and, realizing the powers within him, he drew away
gradually from purely manufacturing occupations,
determining deliberately to devote his life to inventive
work, and to depend upon its results as a means of
subsistence.

All persons who make inventions will necessarily
be more or less original in character, but to the man
who chooses to become an inventor by profession
must be conceded a mind more than ordinarily replete
with virility and originality. That these
qualities in Edison are superabundant is well known
to all who have worked with him, and, indeed, are
apparent to every one from his multiplied achievements
within the period of one generation.

If one were allowed only two words with which to
describe Edison, it is doubtful whether a close examination
of the entire dictionary would disclose any
others more suitable than "experimenter--inventor."
These would express the overruling characteristics of
his eventful career. It is as an "inventor" that he
sets himself down in the membership list of the
American Institute of Electrical Engineers. To attempt
the strict placing of these words in relation to
each other (except alphabetically) would be equal
to an endeavor to solve the old problem as to which
came first, the egg or the chicken; for although all
his inventions have been evolved through experiment,
many of his notable experiments have called
forth the exercise of highly inventive faculties in their
very inception. Investigation and experiment have
been a consuming passion, an impelling force from
within, as it were, from his petticoat days when he
collected goose-eggs and tried to hatch them out by
sitting over them himself. One might be inclined to
dismiss this trivial incident smilingly, as a mere
childish, thoughtless prank, had not subsequent
development as a child, boy, and man revealed a born
investigator with original reasoning powers that,
disdaining crooks and bends, always aimed at the
centre, and, like the flight of the bee, were accurate
and direct.

It is not surprising, therefore, that a man of this
kind should exhibit a ceaseless, absorbing desire for
knowledge, and an apparently uncontrollable tendency
to experiment on every possible occasion, even
though his last cent were spent in thus satisfying the
insatiate cravings of an inquiring mind.

During Edison's immature years, when he was
flitting about from place to place as a telegraph
operator, his experimentation was of a desultory,
hand-to-mouth character, although it was always
notable for originality, as expressed in a number of
minor useful devices produced during this period.
Small wonder, then, that at the end of these wanderings,
when he had found a place to "rest the sole of
his foot," he established a laboratory in which to
carry on his researches in a more methodical and
practical manner. In this was the beginning of the
work which has since made such a profound impression
on contemporary life.

There is nothing of the helter-skelter, slap-dash
style in Edison's experiments. Although all the
laboratory experimenters agree in the opinion that
he "tries everything," it is not merely the mixing of
a little of this, some of that, and a few drops of the
other, in the HOPE that SOMETHING will come of it.
Nor is the spirit of the laboratory work represented
in the following dialogue overheard between two
alleged carpenters picked up at random to help on a
hurry job.

"How near does she fit, Mike?"

"About an inch."

"Nail her!"

A most casual examination of any of the laboratory
records will reveal evidence of the minutest exactitude
insisted on in the conduct of experiments, irrespective
of the length of time they occupied. Edison's
instructions, always clear cut and direct, followed by
his keen oversight, admit of nothing less than implicit
observance in all details, no matter where
they may lead, and impel to the utmost minuteness
and accuracy.

To some extent there has been a popular notion
that many of Edison's successes have been due to
mere dumb fool luck--to blind, fortuitous "happenings."
Nothing could be further from the truth, for,
on the contrary, it is owing almost entirely to the
comprehensive scope of his knowledge, the breadth
of his conception, the daring originality of his methods,
and minuteness and extent of experiment, com-
bined with unwavering pertinacity, that new arts
have been created and additions made to others
already in existence. Indeed, without this tireless
minutiae, and methodical, searching spirit, it would
have been practically impossible to have produced
many of the most important of these inventions.

Needless to say, mastery of its literature is regarded
by him as a most important preliminary in
taking up any line of investigation. What others
may have done, bearing directly or collaterally on
the subject, in print, is carefully considered and
sifted to the point of exhaustion. Not that he takes
it for granted that the conclusions are correct, for
he frequently obtains vastly different results by
repeating in his own way experiments made by others
as detailed in books.

"Edison can travel along a well-used road and still
find virgin soil," remarked recently one of his most
practical experimenters, who had been working along
a certain line without attaining the desired result.
"He wanted to get a particular compound having
definite qualities, and I had tried in all sorts of ways
to produce it but with only partial success. He was
confident that it could be done, and said he would
try it himself. In doing so he followed the same path
in which I had travelled, but, by making an undreamed-of
change in one of the operations, succeeded
in producing a compound that virtually came up to
his specifications. It is not the only time I have
known this sort of thing to happen."

In speaking of Edison's method of experimenting,
another of his laboratory staff says: "He is never
hindered by theory, but resorts to actual experiment
for proof. For instance, when he conceived the idea
of pouring a complete concrete house it was universally
held that it would be impossible because the
pieces of stone in the mixture would not rise to the
level of the pouring-point, but would gravitate to a
lower plane in the soft cement. This, however, did
not hinder him from making a series of experiments
which resulted in an invention that proved conclusively
the contrary."

Having conceived some new idea and read everything
obtainable relating to the subject in general,
Edison's fertility of resource and originality come into
play. Taking one of the laboratory note-books, he
will write in it a memorandum of the experiments to
be tried, illustrated, if necessary, by sketches. This
book is then passed on to that member of the experimental
staff whose special training and experience
are best adapted to the work. Here strenuousness is
expected; and an immediate commencement of investigation
and prompt report are required. Sometimes
the subject may be such as to call for a long
line of frequent tests which necessitate patient and
accurate attention to minute details. Results must
be reported often--daily, or possibly with still greater
frequency. Edison does not forget what is going on;
but in his daily tours through the laboratory keeps
in touch with all the work that is under the hands of
his various assistants, showing by an instant grasp
of the present conditions of any experiment that he
has a full consciousness of its meaning and its reference
to his original conception.

The year 1869 saw the beginning of Edison's career
as an acknowledged inventor of commercial devices.
From the outset, an innate recognition of system
dictated the desirability and wisdom of preserving
records of his experiments and inventions. The
primitive records, covering the earliest years, were
mainly jotted down on loose sheets of paper covered
with sketches, notes, and data, pasted into large scrap-
books, or preserved in packages; but with the passing
of years and enlargement of his interests, it became
the practice to make all original laboratory
notes in large, uniform books. This course was pursued
until the Menlo Park period, when he instituted
a new regime that has been continued down to the
present day. A standard form of note-book, about
eight and a half by six inches, containing about two
hundred pages, was adopted. A number of these
books were (and are now) always to be found scattered
around in the different sections of the laboratory,
and in them have been noted by Edison all
his ideas, sketches, and memoranda. Details of the
various experiments concerning them have been set
down by his assistants from time to time.

These later laboratory note-books, of which there
are now over one thousand in the series, are eloquent
in the history they reveal of the strenuous labors of
Edison and his assistants and the vast fields of
research he has covered during the last thirty years.
They are overwhelmingly rich in biographic material,
but analysis would be a prohibitive task for one person,
and perhaps interesting only to technical readers.
Their pages cover practically every department of
science. The countless thousands of separate experiments
recorded exhibit the operations of a master
mind seeking to surprise Nature into a betrayal of
her secrets by asking her the same question in a
hundred different ways. For instance, when Edison
was investigating a certain problem of importance
many years ago, the note-books show that on this
point alone about fifteen thousand experiments and
tests were made by one of his assistants.

A most casual glance over these note-books will
illustrate the following remark, which was made to
one of the writers not long ago by a member of the
laboratory staff who has been experimenting there
for twenty years: "Edison can think of more ways
of doing a thing than any man I ever saw or heard
of. He tries everything and never lets up, even
though failure is apparently staring him in the face.
He only stops when he simply can't go any further
on that particular line. When he decides on any
mode of procedure he gives his notes to the experimenter
and lets him alone, only stepping in from
time to time to look at the operations and receive
reports of progress."

The history of the development of the telephone
transmitter, phonograph, incandescent lamp, dynamo,
electrical distributing systems from central stations,
electric railway, ore-milling, cement, motion pictures,
and a host of minor inventions may be found embedded
in the laboratory note-books. A passing
glance at a few pages of these written records will
serve to illustrate, though only to a limited extent,
the thoroughness of Edison's method. It is to be
observed that these references can be but of the most
meagre kind, and must be regarded as merely throwing
a side-light on the subject itself. For instance,
the complex problem of a practical telephone transmitter
gave rise to a series of most exhaustive experiments.
Combinations in almost infinite variety,
including gums, chemical compounds, oils, minerals,
and metals were suggested by Edison; and his assistants
were given long lists of materials to try with
reference to predetermined standards of articulation,
degrees of loudness, and perfection of hissing sounds.
The note-books contain hundreds of pages showing
that a great many thousands of experiments were
tried and passed upon. Such remarks as "N. G.";
"Pretty good"; "Whistling good, but no articulation";
"Rattly"; "Articulation, whispering, and
whistling good"; "Best to-night so far"; and others
are noted opposite the various combinations as they
were tried. Thus, one may follow the investigation
through a maze of experiments which led up to the
successful invention of the carbon button transmitter,
the vital device to give the telephone its
needed articulation and perfection.

The two hundred and odd note-books, covering the
strenuous period during which Edison was carrying
on his electric-light experiments, tell on their forty
thousand pages or more a fascinating story of the
evolution of a new art in its entirety. From the crude
beginnings, through all the varied phases of this
evolution, the operations of a master mind are apparent
from the contents of these pages, in which are
recorded the innumerable experiments, calculations,
and tests that ultimately brought light out of darkness.

The early work on a metallic conductor for lamps
gave rise to some very thorough research on melting
and alloying metals, the preparation of metallic
oxides, the coating of fine wires by immersing them
in a great variety of chemical solutions. Following
his usual custom, Edison would indicate the lines of
experiment to be followed, which were carried out
and recorded in the note-books. He himself, in
January, 1879, made personally a most minute and
searching investigation into the properties and behavior
of plating-iridium, boron, rutile, zircon, chromium,
molybdenum, and nickel, under varying degrees
of current strength, on which there may be
found in the notes about forty pages of detailed
experiments and deductions in his own handwriting,
concluding with the remark (about nickel): "This
is a great discovery for electric light in the way of
economy."

This period of research on nickel, etc., was evidently
a trying one, for after nearly a month's close
application he writes, on January 27, 1879: "Owing
to the enormous power of the light my eyes commenced
to pain after seven hours' work, and I had
to quit." On the next day appears the following
entry: "Suffered the pains of hell with my eyes last
night from 10 P.M. till 4 A.M., when got to sleep with
a big dose of morphine. Eyes getting better, and
do not pain much at 4 P.M.; but I lose to-day."

The "try everything" spirit of Edison's method is
well illustrated in this early period by a series of
about sixteen hundred resistance tests of various ores,
minerals, earths, etc., occupying over fifty pages of
one of the note-books relating to the metallic filament
for his lamps.

But, as the reader has already learned, the metallic
filament was soon laid aside in favor of carbon, and
we find in the laboratory notes an amazing record of
research and experiment conducted in the minute
and searching manner peculiar to Edison's method.
His inquiries were directed along all the various roads
leading to the desired goal, for long before he had
completed the invention of a practical lamp he realized
broadly the fundamental requirements of a successful
system of electrical distribution, and had
given instructions for the making of a great variety
of calculations which, although far in advance of the
time, were clearly foreseen by him to be vitally
important in the ultimate solution of the complicated
problem. Thus we find many hundreds of pages of
the note-books covered with computations and
calculations by Mr. Upton, not only on the numerous
ramifications of the projected system and
comparisons with gas, but also on proposed forms of
dynamos and the proposed station in New York. A
mere recital by titles of the vast number of experiments
and tests on carbons, lamps, dynamos, armatures,
commutators, windings, systems, regulators,
sockets, vacuum-pumps, and the thousand and one
details relating to the subject in general, originated
by Edison, and methodically and systematically carried
on under his general direction, would fill a
great many pages here, and even then would serve
only to convey a confused impression of ceaseless
probing.

It is possible only to a broad, comprehensive mind
well stored with knowledge, and backed with resistless,
boundless energy, that such a diversified series
of experiments and investigations could be carried
on simultaneously and assimilated, even though they
should relate to a class of phenomena already understood
and well defined. But if we pause to consider
that the commercial subdivision of the electric current
(which was virtually an invention made to order)
involved the solution of problems so unprecedented
that even they themselves had to be created, we cannot
but conclude that the afflatus of innate genius
played an important part in the unique methods of
investigation instituted by Edison at that and other
times.

The idea of attributing great successes to "genius"
has always been repudiated by Edison, as evidenced
by his historic remark that "Genius is 1 per cent.
inspiration and 99 per cent. perspiration." Again,
in a conversation many years ago at the laboratory
between Edison, Batchelor, and E. H. Johnson, the
latter made allusion to Edison's genius as evidenced
by some of his achievements, when Edison replied:

"Stuff! I tell you genius is hard work, stick-to-it-
iveness, and common sense."

"Yes," said Johnson, "I admit there is all that to
it, but there's still more. Batch and I have those
qualifications, but although we knew quite a lot about
telephones, and worked hard, we couldn't invent a
brand-new non-infringing telephone receiver as you
did when Gouraud cabled for one. Then, how about
the subdivision of the electric light?"

"Electric current," corrected Edison.

"True," continued Johnson; "you were the one
to make that very distinction. The scientific world
had been working hard on subdivision for years,
using what appeared to be common sense. Results
worse than nil. Then you come along, and about the
first thing you do, after looking the ground over, is
to start off in the opposite direction, which subsequently
proves to be the only possible way to reach
the goal. It seems to me that this is pretty close
to the dictionary definition of genius."

It is said that Edison replied rather incoherently
and changed the topic of conversation.

This innate modesty, however, does not prevent
Edison from recognizing and classifying his own
methods of investigation. In a conversation with
two old associates recently (April, 1909), he remarked:
"It has been said of me that my methods are empirical.
That is true only so far as chemistry is concerned.
Did you ever realize that practically all industrial
chemistry is colloidal in its nature? Hard
rubber, celluloid, glass, soap, paper, and lots of others,
all have to deal with amorphous substances, as to
which comparatively little has been really settled.
My methods are similar to those followed by Luther
Burbank. He plants an acre, and when this is in
bloom he inspects it. He has a sharp eye, and can
pick out of thousands a single plant that has promise
of what he wants. From this he gets the seed, and
uses his skill and knowledge in producing from it a
number of new plants which, on development, furnish
the means of propagating an improved variety
in large quantity. So, when I am after a chemical
result that I have in mind, I may make hundreds or
thousands of experiments out of which there may be
one that promises results in the right direction. This
I follow up to its legitimate conclusion, discarding
the others, and usually get what I am after. There is
no doubt about this being empirical; but when it
comes to problems of a mechanical nature, I want
to tell you that all I've ever tackled and solved have
been done by hard, logical thinking." The intense
earnestness and emphasis with which this was said
were very impressive to the auditors. This empirical
method may perhaps be better illustrated by a specific
example. During the latter part of the storage
battery investigations, after the form of positive
element had been determined upon, it became necessary
to ascertain what definite proportions and what quality
of nickel hydrate and nickel flake would give the
best results. A series of positive tubes were filled
with the two materials in different proportions--say,
nine parts hydrate to one of flake; eight parts
hydrate to two of flake; seven parts hydrate to three of
flake, and so on through varying proportions. Three
sets of each of these positives were made, and all put
into separate test tubes with a uniform type of negative
element. These were carried through a long series
of charges and discharges under strict test conditions.
From the tabulated results of hundreds of tests there
were selected three that showed the best results.
These, however, showed only the superiority of cer-
tain PROPORTIONS of the materials. The next step would
be to find out the best QUALITY. Now, as there are
several hundred variations in the quality of nickel
flake, and perhaps a thousand ways to make the
hydrate, it will be realized that Edison's methods led
to stupendous detail, for these tests embraced a trial
of all the qualities of both materials in the three
proportions found to be most suitable. Among these
many thousands of experiments any that showed
extraordinary results were again elaborated by still
further series of tests, until Edison was satisfied that
he had obtained the best result in that particular line.

The laboratory note-books do not always tell the
whole story or meaning of an experiment that may
be briefly outlined on one of their pages. For example,
the early filament made of a mixture of lampblack
and tar is merely a suggestion in the notes, but
its making afforded an example of Edison's
pertinacity. These materials, when mixed, became a
friable mass, which he had found could be brought
into such a cohesive, putty-like state by manipulation,
as to be capable of being rolled out into filaments as
fine as seven-thousandths of an inch in cross-section.
One of the laboratory assistants was told to make some
of this mixture, knead it, and roll some filaments.
After a time he brought the mass to Edison, and said:

"There's something wrong about this, for it crumbles
even after manipulating it with my fingers."

"How long did you knead it?" said Edison.

"Oh! more than an hour," replied the assistant.

"Well, just keep on for a few hours more and it
will come out all right," was the rejoinder. And this
proved to be correct, for, after a prolonged kneading
and rolling, the mass changed into a cohesive, stringy,
homogeneous putty. It was from a mixture of this
kind that spiral filaments were made and used in
some of the earliest forms of successful incandescent
lamps; indeed, they are described and illustrated in
Edison's fundamental lamp patent (No. 223,898).

The present narrative would assume the proportions
of a history of the incandescent lamp, should
the authors attempt to follow Edison's investigations
through the thousands of pages of note-books away
back in the eighties and early nineties. Improvement
of the lamp was constantly in his mind all those years,
and besides the vast amount of detail experimental
work he laid out for his assistants, he carried on a great
deal of research personally. Sometimes whole books
are filled in his own handwriting with records of
experiments showing every conceivable variation of some
particular line of inquiry; each trial bearing some
terse comment expressive of results. In one book
appear the details of one of these experiments on
September 3, 1891, at 4.30 A.M., with the comment:
"Brought up lamp higher than a 16-c.p. 240 was ever
brought before--Hurrah!" Notwithstanding the late
hour, he turns over to the next page and goes on to
write his deductions from this result as compared
with those previously obtained. Proceeding day by
day, as appears by this same book, he follows up another
line of investigation on lamps, apparently full
of difficulty, for after one hundred and thirty-two
other recorded experiments we find this note: "Saturday
3.30 went home disgusted with incandescent
lamps." This feeling was evidently evanescent, for
on the succeeding Monday the work was continued
and carried on by him as keenly as before, as shown
by the next batch of notes.

This is the only instance showing any indication of
impatience that the authors have found in looking
through the enormous mass of laboratory notes. All
his assistants agree that Edison is the most patient,
tireless experimenter that could be conceived of.
Failures do not distress him; indeed, he regards them
as always useful, as may be gathered from the following,
related by Dr. E. G. Acheson, formerly one
of his staff: "I once made an experiment in Edison's
laboratory at Menlo Park during the latter part of
1880, and the results were not as looked for. I
considered the experiment a perfect failure, and while
bemoaning the results of this apparent failure Mr.
Edison entered, and, after learning the facts of the
case, cheerfully remarked that I should not look
upon it as a failure, for he considered every experiment
a success, as in all cases it cleared up the atmosphere,
and even though it failed to accomplish the
results sought for, it should prove a valuable lesson
for guidance in future work. I believe that Mr.
Edison's success as an experimenter was, to a large
extent, due to this happy view of all experiments."

Edison has frequently remarked that out of a hundred
experiments he does not expect more than one
to be successful, and as to that one he is always
suspicious until frequent repetition has verified the
original results.

This patient, optimistic view of the outcome of
experiments has remained part of his character down
to this day, just as his painstaking, minute, incisive
methods are still unchanged. But to the careless,
stupid, or lazy person he is a terror for the short
time they remain around him. Honest mistakes may
be tolerated, but not carelessness, incompetence, or
lack of attention to business. In such cases Edison
is apt to express himself freely and forcibly, as when
he was asked why he had parted with a certain man,
he said: "Oh, he was so slow that it would take him
half an hour to get out of the field of a microscope."
Another instance will be illustrative. Soon after the
Brockton (Massachusetts) central station was started
in operation many years ago, he wrote a note to Mr.
W. S. Andrews, containing suggestions as to future
stations, part of which related to the various employees
and their duties. After outlining the duties
of the meter man, Edison says: "I should not take
too young a man for this, say, a man from twenty-
three to thirty years old, bright and businesslike.
Don't want any one who yearns to enter a laboratory
and experiment. We have a bad case of that at
Brockton; he neglects business to potter. What we
want is a good lamp average and no unprofitable
customer. You should have these men on probation
and subject to passing an examination by me.
This will wake them up."

Edison's examinations are no joke, according to Mr.
J. H. Vail, formerly one of the Menlo Park staff. "I
wanted a job," he said, "and was ambitious to take
charge of the dynamo-room. Mr. Edison led me to
a heap of junk in a corner and said: `Put that to-
gether and let me know when it's running.' I didn't
know what it was, but received a liberal education in
finding out. It proved to be a dynamo, which I
finally succeeded in assembling and running. I got
the job." Another man who succeeded in winning a
place as assistant was Mr. John F. Ott, who has remained
in his employ for over forty years. In 1869,
when Edison was occupying his first manufacturing
shop (the third floor of a small building in Newark),
he wanted a first-class mechanician, and Mr. Ott was
sent to him. "He was then an ordinary-looking young
fellow," says Mr. Ott, "dirty as any of the other
workmen, unkempt, and not much better dressed
than a tramp, but I immediately felt that there was
a great deal in him." This is the conversation that
ensued, led by Mr. Edison's question:

"What do you want?"

" Work."

"Can you make this machine work?" (exhibiting
it and explaining its details).

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, you needn't pay me if I don't."

And thus Mr. Ott went to work and succeeded in
accomplishing the results desired. Two weeks afterward
Mr. Edison put him in charge of the shop.

Edison's life fairly teems with instances of unruffled
patience in the pursuit of experiments. When
he feels thoroughly impressed with the possibility of
accomplishing a certain thing, he will settle down
composedly to investigate it to the end.

This is well illustrated in a story relating to his
invention of the type of storage battery bearing his
name. Mr. W. S. Mallory, one of his closest associates
for many years, is the authority for the following:
"When Mr. Edison decided to shut down the ore-
milling plant at Edison, New Jersey, in which I had
been associated with him, it became a problem as to
what he could profitably take up next, and we had
several discussions about it. He finally thought that
a good storage battery was a great requisite, and
decided to try and devise a new type, for he declared
emphatically he would make no battery requiring
sulphuric acid. After a little thought he conceived
the nickel-iron idea, and started to work at once
with characteristic energy. About 7 or 7.30 A.M. he
would go down to the laboratory and experiment,
only stopping for a short time at noon to eat a lunch
sent down from the house. About 6 o'clock the carriage
would call to take him to dinner, from which he
would return by 7.30 or 8 o'clock to resume work.
The carriage came again at midnight to take him
home, but frequently had to wait until 2 or 3 o'clock,
and sometimes return without him, as he had decided
to continue all night.

"This had been going on more than five months,
seven days a week, when I was called down to the
laboratory to see him. I found him at a bench about
three feet wide and twelve to fifteen feet long, on which
there were hundreds of little test cells that had been
made up by his corps of chemists and experimenters.
He was seated at this bench testing, figuring, and
planning. I then learned that he had thus made
over nine thousand experiments in trying to devise
this new type of storage battery, but had not produced
a single thing that promised to solve the question.
In view of this immense amount of thought
and labor, my sympathy got the better of my judgment,
and I said: `Isn't it a shame that with the
tremendous amount of work you have done you
haven't been able to get any results?' Edison turned
on me like a flash, and with a smile replied: `Results!
Why, man, I have gotten a lot of results! I know
several thousand things that won't work.'

"At that time he sent me out West on a special
mission. On my return, a few weeks later, his
experiments had run up to over ten thousand, but he
had discovered the missing link in the combination
sought for. Of course, we all remember how the
battery was completed and put on the market.
Then, because he was dissatisfied with it, he stopped
the sales and commenced a new line of investigation,
which has recently culminated successfully. I
shouldn't wonder if his experiments on the battery
ran up pretty near to fifty thousand, for they fill
more than one hundred and fifty of the note-books,
to say nothing of some thousands of tests in curve
sheets."

Although Edison has an absolute disregard for the
total outlay of money in investigation, he is particular
to keep down the cost of individual experiments to a
minimum, for, as he observed to one of his assistants:
"A good many inventors try to develop things life-
size, and thus spend all their money, instead of first
experimenting more freely on a small scale." To
Edison life is not only a grand opportunity to find
out things by experiment, but, when found, to improve
them by further experiment. One night, after
receiving a satisfactory report of progress from Mr.
Mason, superintendent of the cement plant, he said:
"The only way to keep ahead of the procession is to
experiment. If you don't, the other fellow will.
When there's no experimenting there's no progress.
Stop experimenting and you go backward. If anything
goes wrong, experiment until you get to the
very bottom of the trouble."

It is easy to realize, therefore, that a character so
thoroughly permeated with these ideas is not apt to
stop and figure out expense when in hot pursuit of
some desired object. When that object has been
attained, however, and it passes from the experimental
to the commercial stage, Edison's monetary views
again come into strong play, but they take a
diametrically opposite position, for he then begins
immediately to plan the extreme of economy in the
production of the article. A thousand and one instances
could be quoted in illustration; but as they
would tend to change the form of this narrative into
a history of economy in manufacture, it will suffice
to mention but one, and that a recent occurrence,
which serves to illustrate how closely he keeps in
touch with everything, and also how the inventive
faculty and instinct of commercial economy run
close together. It was during Edison's winter stay
in Florida, in March, 1909. He had reports sent to
him daily from various places, and studied them
carefully, for he would write frequently with comments,
instructions, and suggestions; and in one
case, commenting on the oiling system at the cement
plant, he wrote: "Your oil losses are now getting
lower, I see." Then, after suggesting some changes
to reduce them still further, he went on to say:
"Here is a chance to save a mill per barrel based on
your regular daily output."

This thorough consideration of the smallest detail
is essentially characteristic of Edison, not only in
economy of manufacture, but in all his work, no matter
of what kind, whether it be experimenting,
investigating, testing, or engineering. To follow him
through the labyrinthine paths of investigation
contained in the great array of laboratory note-books is
to become involved in a mass of minutely detailed
searches which seek to penetrate the inmost recesses
of nature by an ultimate analysis of an infinite variety
of parts. As the reader will obtain a fuller comprehension
of this idea, and of Edison's methods, by concrete
illustration rather than by generalization, the
authors have thought it well to select at random
two typical instances of specific investigations out of
the thousands that are scattered through the notebooks.
These will be found in the following extracts
from one of the note-books, and consist of Edison's
instructions to be carried out in detail by his
experimenters:


"Take, say, 25 lbs. hard Cuban asphalt and separate all
the different hydrocarbons, etc., as far as possible by
means of solvents. It will be necessary first to dissolve
everything out by, say, hot turpentine, then successively
treat the residue with bisulphide carbon, benzol, ether,
chloroform, naphtha, toluol, alcohol, and other probable
solvents. After you can go no further, distil off all the
solvents so the asphalt material has a tar-like consistency.
Be sure all the ash is out of the turpentine portion; now,
after distilling the turpentine off, act on the residue with
all the solvents that were used on the residue, using for
the first the solvent which is least likely to dissolve a great
part of it. By thus manipulating the various solvents
you will be enabled probably to separate the crude
asphalt into several distinct hydrocarbons. Put each in
a bottle after it has been dried, and label the bottle with
the process, etc., so we may be able to duplicate it; also
give bottle a number and describe everything fully in
note-book."

" Destructively distil the following substances down to
a point just short of carbonization, so that the residuum
can be taken out of the retort, powdered, and acted on
by all the solvents just as the asphalt in previous page.
The distillation should be carried to, say, 600 degrees or 700 degrees
Fahr., but not continued long enough to wholly reduce
mass to charcoal, but always run to blackness. Separate
the residuum in as many definite parts as possible, bottle
and label, and keep accurate records as to process,
weights, etc., so a reproduction of the experiment can at
any time be made: Gelatine, 4 lbs.; asphalt, hard
Cuban, 10 lbs.; coal-tar or pitch, 10 lbs.; wood-pitch,
10 lbs.; Syrian asphalt, 10 lbs.; bituminous coal, 10 lbs.;
cane-sugar, 10 lbs.; glucose, 10 lbs.; dextrine, 10 lbs.;
glycerine, 10 lbs.; tartaric acid, 5 lbs.; gum guiac, 5 lbs.;
gum amber, 3 lbs.; gum tragacanth, 3 Lbs.; aniline red,
1 lb.; aniline oil, 1 lb.; crude anthracene, 5 lbs.; petroleum
pitch, 10 lbs.; albumen from eggs, 2 lbs.; tar from
passing chlorine through aniline oil, 2 lbs.; citric acid,
5 lbs.; sawdust of boxwood, 3 lbs.; starch, 5 lbs.; shellac,
3 lbs.; gum Arabic, 5 lbs.; castor oil, 5 lbs."

The empirical nature of his method will be apparent
from an examination of the above items; but in pur-
suing it he leaves all uncertainty behind and, trusting
nothing to theory, he acquires absolute knowledge.
Whatever may be the mental processes by which he
arrives at the starting-point of any specific line of
research, the final results almost invariably prove
that he does not plunge in at random; indeed, as an
old associate remarked: "When Edison takes up
any proposition in natural science, his perceptions
seem to be elementally broad and analytical, that
is to say, in addition to the knowledge he has
acquired from books and observation, he appears to
have an intuitive apprehension of the general order
of things, as they might be supposed to exist in
natural relation to each other. It has always seemed
to me that he goes to the core of things at once."

Although nothing less than results from actual experiments
are acceptable to him as established facts,
this view of Edison may also account for his peculiar
and somewhat weird ability to "guess" correctly, a
faculty which has frequently enabled him to take
short cuts to lines of investigation whose outcome has
verified in a most remarkable degree statements
apparently made offhand and without calculation.
Mr. Upton says: "One of the main impressions left
upon me, after knowing Mr. Edison for many years,
is the marvellous accuracy of his guesses. He will
see the general nature of a result long before it can
be reached by mathematical calculation." This was
supplemented by one of his engineering staff, who
remarked: "Mr. Edison can guess better than a
good many men can figure, and so far as my experience
goes, I have found that he is almost invariably
correct. His guess is more than a mere starting-
point, and often turns out to be the final solution of
a problem. I can only account for it by his remarkable
insight and wonderful natural sense of the proportion
of things, in addition to which he seems to
carry in his head determining factors of all kinds,
and has the ability to apply them instantly in
considering any mechanical problem."

While this mysterious intuitive power has been of
the greatest advantage in connection with the vast
number of technical problems that have entered into
his life-work, there have been many remarkable instances
in which it has seemed little less than prophecy,
and it is deemed worth while to digress to the extent
of relating two of them. One day in the summer of
1881, when the incandescent lamp-industry was still
in swaddling clothes, Edison was seated in the room
of Major Eaton, vice-president of the Edison Electric
Light Company, talking over business matters, when
Mr. Upton came in from the lamp factory at Menlo
Park, and said: "Well, Mr. Edison, we completed a
thousand lamps to-day." Edison looked up and
said "Good," then relapsed into a thoughtful mood.
In about two minutes he raised his head, and said:
"Upton, in fifteen years you will be making forty
thousand lamps a day." None of those present
ventured to make any remark on this assertion,
although all felt that it was merely a random guess,
based on the sanguine dream of an inventor. The
business had not then really made a start, and being
entirely new was without precedent upon which to
base any such statement, but, as a matter of fact, the
records of the lamp factory show that in 1896 its
daily output of lamps was actually about forty
thousand.

The other instance referred to occurred shortly
after the Edison Machine Works was moved up to
Schenectady, in 1886. One day, when he was at the
works, Edison sat down and wrote on a sheet of paper
fifteen separate predictions of the growth and future
of the electrical business. Notwithstanding the fact
that the industry was then in an immature state, and
that the great boom did not set in until a few years
afterward, twelve of these predictions have been fully
verified by the enormous growth and development in
all branches of the art.

What the explanation of this gift, power, or intuition
may be, is perhaps better left to the psychologist
to speculate upon. If one were to ask Edison,
he would probably say, "Hard work, not too much
sleep, and free use of the imagination." Whether or
not it would be possible for the average mortal to
arrive at such perfection of "guessing" by faithfully
following this formula, even reinforced by the Edison
recipe for stimulating a slow imagination with pastry,
is open for demonstration.

Somewhat allied to this curious faculty is another
no less remarkable, and that is, the ability to point
out instantly an error in a mass of reported experimental
results. While many instances could be definitely
named, a typical one, related by Mr. J. D.
Flack, formerly master mechanic at the lamp factory,
may be quoted: "During the many years of lamp
experimentation, batches of lamps were sent to the
photometer department for test, and Edison would
examine the tabulated test sheets. He ran over
every item of the tabulations rapidly, and, apparently
without any calculation whatever, would check off
errors as fast as he came to them, saying: `You have
made a mistake; try this one over.' In every case
the second test proved that he was right. This wonderful
aptitude for infallibly locating an error without
an instant's hesitation for mental calculation, has
always appealed to me very forcibly."

The ability to detect errors quickly in a series of
experiments is one of the things that has enabled
Edison to accomplish such a vast amount of work
as the records show. Examples of the minuteness of
detail into which his researches extend have already
been mentioned, and as there are always a number
of such investigations in progress at the laboratory,
this ability stands Edison in good stead, for he is
thus enabled to follow, and, if necessary, correct each
one step by step. In this he is aided by the great
powers of a mind that is able to free itself from
absorbed concentration on the details of one problem,
and instantly to shift over and become deeply and
intelligently concentrated in another and entirely
different one. For instance, he may have been busy
for hours on chemical experiments, and be called
upon suddenly to determine some mechanical questions.
The complete and easy transition is the constant
wonder of his associates, for there is no confusion
of ideas resulting from these quick changes,
no hesitation or apparent effort, but a plunge into
the midst of the new subject, and an instant acquaint-
ance with all its details, as if he had been studying
it for hours.

A good stiff difficulty--one which may, perhaps, appear
to be an unsurmountable obstacle--only serves to
make Edison cheerful, and brings out variations of his
methods in experimenting. Such an occurrence will
start him thinking, which soon gives rise to a line
of suggestions for approaching the trouble from various
sides; or he will sit down and write out a series
of eliminations, additions, or changes to be worked
out and reported upon, with such variations as may
suggest themselves during their progress. It is at
such times as these that his unfailing patience and
tremendous resourcefulness are in evidence. Ideas and
expedients are poured forth in a torrent, and although
some of them have temporarily appeared to
the staff to be ridiculous or irrelevant, they have
frequently turned out to be the ones leading to a
correct solution of the trouble.

Edison's inexhaustible resourcefulness and fertility
of ideas have contributed largely to his great
success, and have ever been a cause of amazement
to those around him. Frequently, when it
would seem to others that the extreme end of an
apparently blind alley had been reached, and that it
was impossible to proceed further, he has shown that
there were several ways out of it. Examples without
number could be quoted, but one must suffice by way
of illustration. During the progress of the ore-milling
work at Edison, it became desirable to carry on
a certain operation by some special machinery. He
requested the proper person on his engineering staff
to think this matter up and submit a few sketches
of what he would propose to do. He brought three
drawings to Edison, who examined them and said
none of them would answer. The engineer remarked
that it was too bad, for there was no other way to
do it. Mr. Edison turned to him quickly, and said:
"Do you mean to say that these drawings represent
the only way to do this work?" To which he received
the reply: "I certainly do." Edison said
nothing. This happened on a Saturday. He followed
his usual custom of spending Sunday at home
in Orange. When he returned to the works on
Monday morning, he took with him sketches he had
made, showing FORTY-EIGHT other ways of accomplishing
the desired operation, and laid them on the engineer's
desk without a word. Subsequently one of
these ideas, with modifications suggested by some of
the others, was put into successful practice.

Difficulties seem to have a peculiar charm for
Edison, whether they relate to large or small things;
and although the larger matters have contributed
most to the history of the arts, the same carefulness
of thought has often been the means of leading to
improvements of permanent advantage even in
minor details. For instance, in the very earliest
days of electric lighting, the safe insulation of two
bare wires fastened together was a serious problem
that was solved by him. An iron pot over a fire, some
insulating material melted therein, and narrow strips
of linen drawn through it by means of a wooden
clamp, furnished a readily applied and adhesive
insulation, which was just as perfect for the purpose
as the regular and now well-known insulating tape,
of which it was the forerunner.

Dubious results are not tolerated for a moment
in Edison's experimental work. Rather than pass
upon an uncertainty, the experiment will be dissected
and checked minutely in order to obtain absolute
knowledge, pro and con. This searching method
is followed not only in chemical or other investigations,
into which complexities might naturally enter,
but also in more mechanical questions, where simplicity
of construction might naturally seem to preclude
possibilities of uncertainty. For instance, at
the time when he was making strenuous endeavors
to obtain copper wire of high conductivity, strict
laboratory tests were made of samples sent by
manufacturers. One of these samples tested out poorer
than a previous lot furnished from the same factory.
A report of this to Edison brought the following
note: "Perhaps the ---- wire had a bad spot in it.
Please cut it up into lengths and test each one and
send results to me immediately." Possibly the electrical
fraternity does not realize that this earnest
work of Edison, twenty-eight years ago, resulted in
the establishment of the high quality of copper wire
that has been the recognized standard since that
time. Says Edison on this point: "I furnished the
expert and apparatus to the Ansonia Brass and Copper
Company in 1883, and he is there yet. It was this
expert and this company who pioneered high-conductivity
copper for the electrical trade."

Nor is it generally appreciated in the industry that
the adoption of what is now regarded as a most ob-
vious proposition--the high-economy incandescent
lamp--was the result of that characteristic foresight
which there has been occasion to mention frequently
in the course of this narrative, together with the
courage and "horse-sense" which have always been
displayed by the inventor in his persistent pushing
out with far-reaching ideas, in the face of pessimistic
opinions. As is well known, the lamps of the first
ten or twelve years of incandescent lighting were of
low economy, but had long life. Edison's study of
the subject had led him to the conviction that the
greatest growth of the electric-lighting industry
would be favored by a lamp taking less current, but
having shorter, though commercially economical life;
and after gradually making improvements along this
line he developed, finally, a type of high-economy
lamp which would introduce a most radical change
in existing conditions, and lead ultimately to highly
advantageous results. His start on this lamp, and
an expressed desire to have it manufactured for regular
use, filled even some of his business associates
with dismay, for they could see nothing but disaster
ahead in forcing such a lamp on the market. His
persistence and profound conviction of the ultimate
results were so strong and his arguments so sound,
however, that the campaign was entered upon.
Although it took two or three years to convince the
public of the correctness of his views, the idea gradually
took strong root, and has now become an integral
principle of the business.

In this connection it may be noted that with
remarkable prescience Edison saw the coming of the
modern lamps of to-day, which, by reason of their
small consumption of energy to produce a given
candle-power, have dismayed central-station managers.
A few years ago a consumption of 3.1 watts
per candle-power might safely be assumed as an
excellent average, and many stations fixed their
rates and business on such a basis. The results on
income when the consumption, as in the new metallic-
filament lamps, drops to 1.25 watts per candle can
readily be imagined. Edison has insisted that central
stations are selling light and not current; and
he points to the predicament now confronting them
as truth of his assertion that when selling light they
share in all the benefits of improvement, but that
when they sell current the consumer gets all those
benefits without division. The dilemma is encountered
by central stations in a bewildered way,
as a novel and unexpected experience; but Edison
foresaw the situation and warned against it long ago.
It is one of the greatest gifts of statesmanship to see
new social problems years before they arise and
solve them in advance. It is one of the greatest
attributes of invention to foresee and meet its own
problems in exactly the same way.



CHAPTER XXV

THE LABORATORY AT ORANGE AND THE STAFF

A LIVING interrogation-point and a born investigator
from childhood, Edison has never been without
a laboratory of some kind for upward of half a
century.

In youthful years, as already described in this book,
he became ardently interested in chemistry, and even
at the early age of twelve felt the necessity for a
special nook of his own, where he could satisfy his
unconvinced mind of the correctness or inaccuracy
of statements and experiments contained in the few
technical books then at his command.

Ordinarily he was like other normal lads of his age
--full of boyish, hearty enjoyments--but withal possessed
of an unquenchable spirit of inquiry and an
insatiable desire for knowledge. Being blessed with
a wise and discerning mother, his aspirations were
encouraged; and he was allowed a corner in her
cellar. It is fair to offer tribute here to her bravery
as well as to her wisdom, for at times she was in mortal
terror lest the precocious experimenter below
should, in his inexperience, make some awful
combination that would explode and bring down the
house in ruins on himself and the rest of the family.

Fortunately no such catastrophe happened, but
young Edison worked away in his embryonic laboratory,
satisfying his soul and incidentally depleting
his limited pocket-money to the vanishing-point. It
was, indeed, owing to this latter circumstance that in
a year or two his aspirations necessitated an increase
of revenue; and a consequent determination to earn
some money for himself led to his first real commercial
enterprise as "candy butcher" on the Grand Trunk
Railroad, already mentioned in a previous chapter.
It has also been related how his precious laboratory
was transferred to the train; how he and it were
subsequently expelled; and how it was re-established in
his home, where he continued studies and experiments
until the beginning of his career as a telegraph
operator.

The nomadic life of the next few years did not
lessen his devotion to study; but it stood seriously
in the way of satisfying the ever-present craving for
a laboratory. The lack of such a place never prevented
experimentation, however, as long as he had
a dollar in his pocket and some available "hole in
the wall." With the turning of the tide of fortune
that suddenly carried him, in New York in 1869, from
poverty to the opulence of $300 a month, he drew
nearer to a realization of his cherished ambition in
having money, place, and some time (stolen from
sleep) for more serious experimenting. Thus matters
continued until, at about the age of twenty-two,
Edison's inventions had brought him a relatively
large sum of money, and he became a very busy
manufacturer, and lessee of a large shop in Newark,
New Jersey.

Now, for the first time since leaving that boyish
laboratory in the old home at Port Huron, Edison
had a place of his own to work in, to think in; but
no one in any way acquainted with Newark as a
swarming centre of miscellaneous and multitudinous
industries would recommend it as a cloistered retreat
for brooding reverie and introspection, favorable to
creative effort. Some people revel in surroundings
of hustle and bustle, and find therein no hindrance
to great accomplishment. The electrical genius of
Newark is Edward Weston, who has thriven amid its
turmoil and there has developed his beautiful
instruments of precision; just as Brush worked out his
arc-lighting system in Cleveland; or even as Faraday,
surrounded by the din and roar of London, laid the
intellectual foundations of the whole modern science
of dynamic electricity. But Edison, though deaf,
could not make too hurried a retreat from Newark
to Menlo Park, where, as if to justify his change of
base, vital inventions soon came thick and fast, year
after year. The story of Menlo has been told in
another chapter, but the point was not emphasized
that Edison then, as later, tried hard to drop
manufacturing. He would infinitely rather be philosopher
than producer; but somehow the necessity of
manufacturing is constantly thrust back upon him by a
profound--perhaps finical--sense of dissatisfaction
with what other people make for him. The world
never saw a man more deeply and desperately convinced
that nothing in it approaches perfection. Edison
is the doctrine of evolution incarnate, applied to
mechanics. As to the removal from Newark, he may
be allowed to tell his own story: "I had a shop at
Newark in which I manufactured stock tickers and
such things. When I moved to Menlo Park I took
out only the machinery that would be necessary for
experimental purposes and left the manufacturing
machinery in the place. It consisted of many milling
machines and other tools for duplicating. I rented
this to a man who had formerly been my bookkeeper,
and who thought he could make money out of
manufacturing. There was about $10,000 worth of
machinery. He was to pay me $2000 a year for the
rent of the machinery and keep it in good order.
After I moved to Menlo Park, I was very busy with
the telephone and phonograph, and I paid no attention
to this little arrangement. About three years
afterward, it occurred to me that I had not heard at
all from the man who had rented this machinery, so
I thought I would go over to Newark and see how
things were going. When I got there, I found that
instead of being a machine shop it was a hotel! I
have since been utterly unable to find out what be
came of the man or the machinery." Such incidents
tend to justify Edison in his rather cynical remark
that he has always been able to improve machinery
much quicker than men. All the way up he has had
discouraging experiences. "One day while I was
carrying on my work in Newark, a Wall Street broker
came from the city and said he was tired of the
`Street,' and wanted to go into something real. He
said he had plenty of money. He wanted some kind
of a job to keep his mind off Wall Street. So we gave
him a job as a `mucker' in chemical experiments.
The second night he was there he could not stand the
long hours and fell asleep on a sofa. One of the boys
took a bottle of bromine and opened it under the
sofa. It floated up and produced a violent effect on
the mucous membrane. The broker was taken with
such a fit of coughing he burst a blood-vessel, and
the man who let the bromine out got away and never
came back. I suppose he thought there was going
to be a death. But the broker lived, and left the
next day; and I have never seen him since, either."
Edison tells also of another foolhardy laboratory
trick of the same kind: "Some of my assistants in
those days were very green in the business, as I did
not care whether they had had any experience or
not. I generally tried to turn them loose. One day
I got a new man, and told him to conduct a certain
experiment. He got a quart of ether and started to
boil it over a naked flame. Of course it caught fire.
The flame was about four feet in diameter and eleven
feet high. We had to call out the fire department;
and they came down and put a stream through the
window. That let all the fumes and chemicals out
and overcame the firemen; and there was the devil to
pay. Another time we experimented with a tub full of
soapy water, and put hydrogen into it to make large
bubbles. One of the boys, who was washing bottles in
the place, had read in some book that hydrogen was
explosive, so he proceeded to blow the tub up. There
was about four inches of soap in the bottom of the
tub, fourteen inches high; and he filled it with soap
bubbles up to the brim. Then he took a bamboo
fish-pole, put a piece of paper at the end, and
touched it off. It blew every window out of the
place."

Always a shrewd, observant, and kindly critic of
character, Edison tells many anecdotes of the men
who gathered around him in various capacities at
that quiet corner of New Jersey--Menlo Park--and
later at Orange, in the Llewellyn Park laboratory;
and these serve to supplement the main narrative by
throwing vivid side-lights on the whole scene. Here,
for example, is a picture drawn by Edison of a
laboratory interlude--just a bit Rabelaisian: "When
experimenting at Menlo Park we had all the way from
forty to fifty men. They worked all the time. Each
man was allowed from four to six hours' sleep. We
had a man who kept tally, and when the time came
for one to sleep, he was notified. At midnight we
had lunch brought in and served at a long table at
which the experimenters sat down. I also had an
organ which I procured from Hilbourne Roosevelt--
uncle of the ex-President--and we had a man play
this organ while we ate our lunch. During the summer-
time, after we had made something which was
successful, I used to engage a brick-sloop at Perth
Amboy and take the whole crowd down to the fishing-
banks on the Atlantic for two days. On one occasion
we got outside Sandy Hook on the banks and anchored.
A breeze came up, the sea became rough,
and a large number of the men were sick. There was
straw in the bottom of the boat, which we all slept
on. Most of the men adjourned to this straw very
sick. Those who were not got a piece of rancid salt
pork from the skipper, and cut a large, thick slice
out of it. This was put on the end of a fish-hook
and drawn across the men's faces. The smell was
terrific, and the effect added to the hilarity of the
excursion.

"I went down once with my father and two assistants
for a little fishing inside Sandy Hook. For some
reason or other the fishing was very poor. We anchored,
and I started in to fish. After fishing for
several hours there was not a single bite. The others
wanted to pull up anchor, but I fished two days and
two nights without a bite, until they pulled up anchor
and went away. I would not give up. I was going
to catch that fish if it took a week."

This is general. Let us quote one or two piquant
personal observations of a more specific nature as to
the odd characters Edison drew around him in his
experimenting. "Down at Menlo Park a man came
in one day and wanted a job. He was a sailor. I
hadn't any particular work to give him, but I had a
number of small induction coils, and to give him
something to do I told him to fix them up and sell
them among his sailor friends. They were fixed up,
and he went over to New York and sold them all.
He was an extraordinary fellow. His name was
Adams. One day I asked him how long it was since
he had been to sea, and he replied two or three years.
I asked him how he had made a living in the mean
time, before he came to Menlo Park. He said he
made a pretty good living by going around to different
clinics and getting $10 at each clinic, because of
having the worst case of heart-disease on record. I
told him if that was the case he would have to be very
careful around the laboratory. I had him there to
help in experimenting, and the heart-disease did not
seem to bother him at all.

"It appeared that he had once been a slaver; and
altogether he was a tough character. Having no
other man I could spare at that time, I sent him over
with my carbon transmitter telephone to exhibit it
in England. It was exhibited before the Post-Office
authorities. Professor Hughes spent an afternoon in
examining the apparatus, and in about a month came
out with his microphone, which was absolutely nothing
more nor less than my exact invention. But no
mention was made of the fact that, just previously,
he had seen the whole of my apparatus. Adams
stayed over in Europe connected with the telephone
for several years, and finally died of too much whiskey
--but not of heart-disease. This shows how whiskey
is the more dangerous of the two.

"Adams said that at one time he was aboard a
coffee-ship in the harbor of Santos, Brazil. He fell
down a hatchway and broke his arm. They took
him up to the hospital--a Portuguese one--where he
could not speak the language, and they did not
understand English. They treated him for two weeks for
yellow fever! He was certainly the most profane
man we ever had around the laboratory. He stood
high in his class."

And there were others of a different stripe. "We
had a man with us at Menlo called Segredor. He was
a queer kind of fellow. The men got in the habit of
plaguing him; and, finally, one day he said to the
assembled experimenters in the top room of the
laboratory: `The next man that does it, I will kill
him.' They paid no attention to this, and next day
one of them made some sarcastic remark to him.
Segredor made a start for his boarding-house, and
when they saw him coming back up the hill with a
gun, they knew there would be trouble, so they all
made for the woods. One of the men went back and
mollified him. He returned to his work; but he was
not teased any more. At last, when I sent men out
hunting for bamboo, I dispatched Segredor to Cuba.
He arrived in Havana on Tuesday, and on the Friday
following he was buried, having died of the black
vomit. On the receipt of the news of his death, half
a dozen of the men wanted his job, but my searcher
in the Astor Library reported that the chances of
finding the right kind of bamboo for lamps in Cuba
were very small; so I did not send a substitute."

Another thumb-nail sketch made of one of his
associates is this: "When experimenting with vacuum-
pumps to exhaust the incandescent lamps, I required
some very delicate and close manipulation of glass,
and hired a German glass-blower who was said to be
the most expert man of his kind in the United States.
He was the only one who could make clinical thermometers.
He was the most extraordinarily conceited
man I have ever come across. His conceit was
so enormous, life was made a burden to him by all
the boys around the laboratory. He once said that
he was educated in a university where all the students
belonged to families of the aristocracy; and the highest
class in the university all wore little red caps.
He said HE wore one."

Of somewhat different caliber was "honest" John
Kruesi, who first made his mark at Menlo Park, and
of whom Edison says: "One of the workmen I had
at Menlo Park was John Kruesi, who afterward became,
from his experience, engineer of the lighting
station, and subsequently engineer of the Edison
General Electric Works at Schenectady. Kruesi was
very exact in his expressions. At the time we were
promoting and putting up electric-light stations in
Pennsylvania, New York, and New England, there
would be delegations of different people who proposed
to pay for these stations. They would come to our
office in New York, at `65,' to talk over the specifications,
the cost, and other things. At first, Mr. Kruesi
was brought in, but whenever a statement was made
which he could not understand or did not believe could
be substantiated, he would blurt right out among
these prospects that he didn't believe it. Finally
it disturbed these committees so much, and raised so
many doubts in their minds, that one of my chief
associates said: `Here, Kruesi, we don't want you to
come to these meetings any longer. You are too painfully
honest.' I said to him: `We always tell the
truth. It may be deferred truth, but it is the truth.'
He could not understand that."

Various reasons conspired to cause the departure
from Menlo Park midway in the eighties. For Edison,
in spite of the achievement with which its name
will forever be connected, it had lost all its attractions
and all its possibilities. It had been outgrown
in many ways, and strange as the remark may seem,
it was not until he had left it behind and had settled
in Orange, New Jersey, that he can be said to have
given definite shape to his life. He was only forty
in 1887, and all that he had done up to that time,
tremendous as much of it was, had worn a haphazard,
Bohemian air, with all the inconsequential freedom
and crudeness somehow attaching to pioneer life.
The development of the new laboratory in West
Orange, just at the foot of Llewellyn Park, on the
Orange Mountains, not only marked the happy beginning
of a period of perfect domestic and family
life, but saw in the planning and equipment of a
model laboratory plant the consummation of youthful
dreams, and of the keen desire to enjoy resources
adequate at any moment to whatever strain the fierce
fervor of research might put upon them. Curiously
enough, while hitherto Edison had sought to
dissociate his experimenting from his manufacturing,
here he determined to develop a large industry to
which a thoroughly practical laboratory would be a
central feature, and ever a source of suggestion and
inspiration. Edison's standpoint to-day is that an
evil to be dreaded in manufacture is that of over-
standardization, and that as soon as an article is
perfect that is the time to begin improving it. But he
who would improve must experiment.

The Orange laboratory, as originally planned, consisted
of a main building two hundred and fifty feet
long and three stories in height, together with four
other structures, each one hundred by twenty-five
feet, and only one story in height. All these were
substantially built of brick. The main building was
divided into five chief divisions--the library, office,
machine shops, experimental and chemical rooms,
and stock-room. The use of the smaller buildings
will be presently indicated.

Surrounding the whole was erected a high picket
fence with a gate placed on Valley Road. At this
point a gate-house was provided and put in charge
of a keeper, for then, as at the present time, Edison
was greatly sought after; and, in order to accomplish
any work at all, he was obliged to deny himself to all
but the most important callers. The keeper of the
gate was usually chosen with reference to his capacity
for stony-hearted implacability and adherence to
instructions; and this choice was admirably made in
one instance when a new gateman, not yet thoroughly
initiated, refused admittance to Edison himself. It
was of no use to try and explain. To the gateman
EVERY ONE was persona non grata without proper
credentials, and Edison had to wait outside until he
could get some one to identify him.

On entering the main building the first doorway
from the ample passage leads the visitor into a handsome
library finished throughout in yellow pine,
occupying the entire width of the building, and
almost as broad as long. The centre of this spacious
room is an open rectangular space about forty by
twenty-five feet, rising clear about forty feet
from the main floor to a panelled ceiling. Around
the sides of the room, bounding this open space, run
two tiers of gallery, divided, as is the main floor
beneath them; into alcoves of liberal dimensions. These
alcoves are formed by racks extending from floor to
ceiling, fitted with shelves, except on two sides of both
galleries, where they are formed by a series of glass-
fronted cabinets containing extensive collections of
curious and beautiful mineralogical and geological
specimens, among which is the notable Tiffany-Kunz
collection of minerals acquired by Edison some years
ago. Here and there in these cabinets may also be
found a few models which he has used at times in his
studies of anatomy and physiology.

The shelves on the remainder of the upper gallery
and part of those on the first gallery are filled with
countless thousands of specimens of ores and minerals
of every conceivable kind gathered from all parts of
the world, and all tagged and numbered. The remaining
shelves of the first gallery are filled with current
numbers (and some back numbers) of the numerous
periodicals to which Edison subscribes. Here
may be found the popular magazines, together with
those of a technical nature relating to electricity,
chemistry, engineering, mechanics, building, cement,
building materials, drugs, water and gas, power,
automobiles, railroads, aeronautics, philosophy, hygiene,
physics, telegraphy, mining, metallurgy, metals,
music, and others; also theatrical weeklies, as well
as the proceedings and transactions of various learned
and technical societies.

The first impression received as one enters on the
main floor of the library and looks around is that of
noble proportions and symmetry as a whole. The
open central space of liberal dimensions and height,
flanked by the galleries and relieved by four handsome
electric-lighting fixtures suspended from the
ceiling by long chains, conveys an idea of lofty
spaciousness; while the huge open fireplace, surmounted
by a great clock built into the wall, at one
end of the room, the large rugs, the arm-chairs
scattered around, the tables and chairs in the alcoves,
give a general air of comfort combined with utility.
In one of the larger alcoves, at the sunny end of the
main hall, is Edison's own desk, where he may usually
be seen for a while in the early morning hours looking
over his mail or otherwise busily working on matters
requiring his attention.

At the opposite end of the room, not far from the
open fireplace, is a long table surrounded by swivel
desk-chairs. It is here that directors' meetings are
sometimes held, and also where weighty matters are
often discussed by Edison at conference with his
closer associates. It has been the privilege of the
writers to be present at some of these conferences,
not only as participants, but in some cases as lookers-
on while awaiting their turn. On such occasions an
interesting opportunity is offered to study Edison
in his intense and constructive moods. Apparently
oblivious to everything else, he will listen with
concentrated mind and close attention, and then pour
forth a perfect torrent of ideas and plans, and,
if the occasion calls for it, will turn around to the
table, seize a writing-pad and make sketch after
sketch with lightning-like rapidity, tearing off each
sheet as filled and tossing it aside to the floor. It
is an ordinary indication that there has been an
interesting meeting when the caretaker about fills a
waste-basket with these discarded sketches.

Directly opposite the main door is a beautiful
marble statue purchased by Edison at the Paris
Exposition in 1889, on the occasion of his visit there.
The statue, mounted on a base three feet high, is an
allegorical representation of the supremacy of electric
light over all other forms of illumination, carried out
by the life-size figure of a youth with half-spread
wings seated upon the ruins of a street gas-lamp,
holding triumphantly high above his head an electric
incandescent lamp. Grouped about his feet are a
gear-wheel, voltaic pile, telegraph key, and telephone.
This work of art was executed by A. Bordiga, of Rome,
held a prominent place in the department devoted to
Italian art at the Paris Exposition, and naturally
appealed to Edison as soon as he saw it.

In the middle distance, between the entrance door
and this statue, has long stood a magnificent palm,
but at the present writing it has been set aside to
give place to a fine model of the first type of the
Edison poured cement house, which stands in a
miniature artificial lawn upon a special table prepared
for it; while on the floor at the foot of the
table are specimens of the full-size molds in which
the house will be cast.

The balustrades of the galleries and all other available
places are filled with portraits of great scientists
and men of achievement, as well as with pictures of historic
and scientific interest. Over the fireplace hangs
a large photograph showing the Edison cement plant
in its entire length, flanked on one end of the mantel
by a bust of Humboldt, and on the other by a statuette
of Sandow, the latter having been presented to Edison
by the celebrated athlete after the visit he made to
Orange to pose for the motion pictures in the earliest
days of their development. On looking up under
the second gallery at this end is seen a great roll
resting in sockets placed on each side of the room.
This is a huge screen or curtain which may be drawn
down to the floor to provide a means of projection
for lantern slides or motion pictures, for the
entertainment or instruction of Edison and his guests.
In one of the larger alcoves is a large terrestrial globe
pivoted in its special stand, together with a relief
map of the United States; and here and there are
handsomely mounted specimens of underground
conductors and electric welds that were made at the
Edison Machine Works at Schenectady before it was
merged into the General Electric Company. On two
pedestals stand, respectively, two other mementoes
of the works, one a fifteen-light dynamo of the Edison
type, and the other an elaborate electric fan--both
of them gifts from associates or employees.

In noting these various objects of interest one
must not lose sight of the fact that this part of the
building is primarily a library, if indeed that fact did
not at once impress itself by a glance at the well-
filled unglazed book-shelves in the alcoves of the
main floor. Here Edison's catholic taste in reading
becomes apparent as one scans the titles of
thousands of volumes ranged upon the shelves,
for they include astronomy, botany, chemistry,
dynamics, electricity, engineering, forestry, geology,
geography, mechanics, mining, medicine, metallurgy,
magnetism, philosophy, psychology, physics, steam,
steam-engines, telegraphy, telephony, and many
others. Besides these there are the journals and
proceedings of numerous technical societies;
encyclopaedias of various kinds; bound series of important
technical magazines; a collection of United States
and foreign patents, embracing some hundreds of
volumes, together with an extensive assortment of
miscellaneous books of special and general interest.
There is another big library up in the house on the
hill--in fact, there are books upon books all over the
home. And wherever they are, those books are read.

As one is about to pass out of the library attention
is arrested by an incongruity in the form of a cot,
which stands in an alcove near the door. Here Edison,
throwing himself down, sometimes seeks a short
rest during specially long working tours. Sleep is
practically instantaneous and profound, and he awakes
in immediate and full possession of his faculties,
arising from the cot and going directly "back to the
job" without a moment's hesitation, just as a person
wide awake would arise from a chair and proceed to
attend to something previously determined upon.

Immediately outside the library is the famous
stock-room, about which much has been written and
invented. Its fame arose from the fact that Edison
planned it to be a repository of some quantity, great
or small, of every known and possibly useful substance
not readily perishable, together with the most
complete assortment of chemicals and drugs that
experience and knowledge could suggest. Always
strenuous in his experimentation, and the living
embodiment of the spirit of the song, I Want What I
Want When I Want It, Edison had known for years
what it was to be obliged to wait, and sometimes
lack, for some substance or chemical that he thought
necessary to the success of an experiment. Naturally
impatient at any delay which interposed in his
insistent and searching methods, and realizing the
necessity of maintaining the inspiration attending
his work at any time, he determined to have within
his immediate reach the natural resources of the
world.

Hence it is not surprising to find the stock-room
not only a museum, but a sample-room of nature, as
well as a supply department. To a casual visitor the
first view of this heterogeneous collection is quite
bewildering, but on more mature examination it resolves
itself into a natural classification--as, for instance,
objects pertaining to various animals, birds,
and fishes, such as skins, hides, hair, fur, feathers,
wool, quills, down, bristles, teeth, bones, hoofs,
horns, tusks, shells; natural products, such as woods,
barks, roots, leaves, nuts, seeds, herbs, gums, grains,
flours, meals, bran; also minerals in great assortment;
mineral and vegetable oils, clay, mica, ozokerite,
etc. In the line of textiles, cotton and silk
threads in great variety, with woven goods of all
kinds from cheese-cloth to silk plush. As for paper,
there is everything in white and colored, from thinnest
tissue up to the heaviest asbestos, even a few
newspapers being always on hand. Twines of all
sizes, inks, waxes, cork, tar, resin, pitch, turpentine,
asphalt, plumbago, glass in sheets and tubes; and a
host of miscellaneous articles revealed on looking
around the shelves, as well as an interminable col-
lection of chemicals, including acids, alkalies, salts,
reagents, every conceivable essential oil and all the
thinkable extracts. It may be remarked that this
collection includes the eighteen hundred or more
fluorescent salts made by Edison during his experimental
search for the best material for a fluoroscope
in the initial X-ray period. All known metals in
form of sheet, rod and tube, and of great variety in
thickness, are here found also, together with a most
complete assortment of tools and accessories for machine
shop and laboratory work.

The list is confined to the merest general mention
of the scope of this remarkable and interesting collection,
as specific details would stretch out into a
catalogue of no small proportions. When it is
stated, however, that a stock clerk is kept
exceedingly busy all day answering the numerous and
various demands upon him, the reader will appreciate
that this comprehensive assortment is not merely a
fad of Edison's, but stands rather as a substantial
tribute to his wide-angled view of possible requirements
as his various investigations take him far afield.
It has no counterpart in the world!

Beyond the stock-room, and occupying about half
the building on the same floor, lie a machine shop,
engine-room, and boiler-room. This machine shop is
well equipped, and in it is constantly employed a
large force of mechanics whose time is occupied in
constructing the heavier class of models and mechanical
devices called for by the varied experiments and
inventions always going on.

Immediately above, on the second floor, is found
another machine shop in which is maintained a corps
of expert mechanics who are called upon to do work
of greater precision and fineness, in the construction
of tools and experimental models. This is the realm
presided over lovingly by John F. Ott, who has been
Edison's designer of mechanical devices for over
forty years. He still continues to ply his craft with
unabated skill and oversees the work of the mechanics
as his productions are wrought into concrete shape.

In one of the many experimental-rooms lining the
sides of the second floor may usually be seen his
younger brother, Fred Ott, whose skill as a dexterous
manipulator and ingenious mechanic has found
ample scope for exercise during the thirty-two years
of his service with Edison, not only at the regular
laboratories, but also at that connected with the
inventor's winter home in Florida. Still another
of the Ott family, the son of John F., for some
years past has been on the experimental staff of the
Orange laboratory. Although possessing in no small
degree the mechanical and manipulative skill of the
family, he has chosen chemistry as his special domain,
and may be found with the other chemists in one of
the chemical-rooms.

On this same floor is the vacuum-pump room with
a glass-blowers' room adjoining, both of them historic
by reason of the strenuous work done on incandescent
lamps and X-ray tubes within their walls.
The tools and appliances are kept intact, for Edison
calls occasionally for their use in some of his later
experiments, and there is a suspicion among the
laboratory staff that some day he may resume work
on incandescent lamps. Adjacent to these rooms are
several others devoted to physical and mechanical
experiments, together with a draughting-room.

Last to be mentioned, but the first in order as
one leaves the head of the stairs leading up to this
floor, is No. 12, Edison's favorite room, where he
will frequently be found. Plain of aspect, being
merely a space boarded off with tongued-and-grooved
planks--as all the other rooms are--without ornament
or floor covering, and containing only a few
articles of cheap furniture, this room seems to exercise
a nameless charm for him. The door is always
open, and often he can be seen seated at a plain table
in the centre of the room, deeply intent on some of
the numerous problems in which he is interested.
The table is usually pretty well filled with specimens
or data of experimental results which have been put
there for his examination. At the time of this writing
these specimens consist largely of sections of
positive elements of the storage battery, together
with many samples of nickel hydrate, to which
Edison devotes deep study. Close at hand is a microscope
which is in frequent use by him in these investigations.
Around the room, on shelves, are hundreds
of bottles each containing a small quantity of
nickel hydrate made in as many different ways, each
labelled correspondingly. Always at hand will be
found one or two of the laboratory note-books, with
frequent entries or comments in the handwriting which
once seen is never forgotten.

No. 12 is at times a chemical, a physical, or a
mechanical room--occasionally a combination of all,
while sometimes it might be called a consultation-
room or clinic--for often Edison may be seen there in
animated conference with a group of his assistants;
but its chief distinction lies in its being one of his
favorite haunts, and in the fact that within its walls
have been settled many of the perplexing problems
and momentous questions that have brought about
great changes in electrical and engineering arts during
the twenty-odd years that have elapsed since the
Orange laboratory was built.

Passing now to the top floor the visitor finds himself
at the head of a broad hall running almost the
entire length of the building, and lined mostly with
glass-fronted cabinets containing a multitude of
experimental incandescent lamps and an immense
variety of models of phonographs, motors, telegraph
and telephone apparatus, meters, and a host of other
inventions upon which Edison's energies have at one
time and another been bent. Here also are other
cabinets containing old papers and records, while
further along the wall are piled up boxes of historical
models and instruments. In fact, this hallway, with
its conglomerate contents, may well be considered
a scientific attic. It is to be hoped that at no distant
day these Edisoniana will be assembled and arranged
in a fireproof museum for the benefit of posterity.

In the front end of the building, and extending
over the library, is a large room intended originally and
used for a time as the phonograph music-hall for
record-making, but now used only as an experimental-
room for phonograph work, as the growth of the
industry has necessitated a very much larger and
more central place where records can be made on a
commercial scale. Even the experimental work imposes
no slight burden on it. On each side of the
hallway above mentioned, rooms are partitioned off
and used for experimental work of various kinds,
mostly phonographic, although on this floor are also
located the storage-battery testing-room, a chemical
and physical room and Edison's private office, where
all his personal correspondence and business affairs
are conducted by his personal secretary, Mr. H. F.
Miller. A visitor to this upper floor of the laboratory
building cannot but be impressed with a consciousness
of the incessant efforts that are being made to
improve the reproducing qualities of the phonograph,
as he hears from all sides the sounds of vocal and
instrumental music constantly varying in volume and
timbre, due to changes in the experimental devices
under trial.

The traditions of the laboratory include cots placed
in many of the rooms of these upper floors, but that
was in the earlier years when the strenuous scenes
of Menlo Park were repeated in the new quarters.
Edison and his closest associates were accustomed
to carry their labors far into the wee sma' hours,
and when physical nature demanded a respite from
work, a short rest would be obtained by going to bed
on a cot. One would naturally think that the wear
and tear of this intense application, day after day
and night after night, would have tended to induce
a heaviness and gravity of demeanor in these busy
men; but on the contrary, the old spirit of good-
humor and prankishness was ever present, as its fre-
quent outbursts manifested from time to time. One
instance will serve as an illustration. One morning,
about 2.30, the late Charles Batchelor announced that
he was tired and would go to bed. Leaving Edison
and the others busily working, he went out and returned
quietly in slippered feet, with his nightgown
on, the handle of a feather duster stuck down his
back with the feathers waving over his head, and his
face marked. With unearthly howls and shrieks, a
l'Indien, he pranced about the room, incidentally giving
Edison a scare that made him jump up from his
work. He saw the joke quickly, however, and joined
in the general merriment caused by this prank.

Leaving the main building with its corps of busy
experimenters, and coming out into the spacious
yard, one notes the four long single-story brick
structures mentioned above. The one nearest the Valley
Road is called the galvanometer-room, and was
originally intended by Edison to be used for the most
delicate and minute electrical measurements. In
order to provide rigid resting-places for the numerous
and elaborate instruments he had purchased for this
purpose, the building was equipped along three-
quarters of its length with solid pillars, or tables, of
brick set deep in the earth. These were built up to
a height of about two and a half feet, and each was
surmounted with a single heavy slab of black marble.
A cement floor was laid, and every precaution was
taken to render the building free from all magnetic
influences, so that it would be suitable for electrical
work of the utmost accuracy and precision. Hence,
iron and steel were entirely eliminated in its con-
struction, copper being used for fixtures for steam
and water piping, and, indeed, for all other purposes
where metal was employed.

This room was for many years the headquarters of
Edison's able assistant, Dr. A. E. Kennelly, now professor
of electrical engineering in Harvard University
to whose energetic and capable management were intrusted
many scientific investigations during his long
sojourn at the laboratory. Unfortunately, however, for
the continued success of Edison's elaborate plans, he
had not been many years established in the laboratory
before a trolley road through West Orange was projected
and built, the line passing in front of the plant
and within seventy-five feet of the galvanometer-
room, thus making it practically impossible to use
it for the delicate purposes for which it was originally
intended.

For some time past it has been used for photography
and some special experiments on motion pictures as
well as for demonstrations connected with physical
research; but some reminders of its old-time glory
still remain in evidence. In lofty and capacious
glass-enclosed cabinets, in company with numerous
models of Edison's inventions, repose many of the
costly and elaborate instruments rendered useless by
the ubiquitous trolley. Instruments are all about,
on walls, tables, and shelves, the photometer is covered
up; induction coils of various capacities, with
other electrical paraphernalia, lie around, almost as
if the experimenter were absent for a few days but
would soon return and resume his work.

In numbering the group of buildings, the galva-
nometer-room is No. 1, while the other single-story
structures are numbered respectively 2, 3, and 4.
On passing out of No. 1 and proceeding to the succeeding
building is noticed, between the two, a garage
of ample dimensions and a smaller structure, at the
door of which stands a concrete-mixer. In this
small building Edison has made some of his most
important experiments in the process of working out
his plans for the poured house. It is in this little
place that there was developed the remarkable mixture
which is to play so vital a part in the successful
construction of these everlasting homes for
living millions.

Drawing near to building No. 2, olfactory evidence
presents itself of the immediate vicinity of a chemical
laboratory. This is confirmed as one enters the door
and finds that the entire building is devoted to
chemistry. Long rows of shelves and cabinets filled
with chemicals line the room; a profusion of retorts,
alembics, filters, and other chemical apparatus on
numerous tables and stands, greet the eye, while a
corps of experimenters may be seen busy in the
preparation of various combinations, some of which are
boiling or otherwise cooking under their dexterous
manipulation.

It would not require many visits to discover that
in this room, also, Edison has a favorite nook. Down
at the far end in a corner are a plain little table and
chair, and here he is often to be found deeply immersed
in a study of the many experiments that are
being conducted. Not infrequently he is actively
engaged in the manipulation of some compound of
special intricacy, whose results might be illuminative
of obscure facts not patent to others than himself.
Here, too, is a select little library of chemical literature.

The next building, No. 3, has a double mission--
the farther half being partitioned off for a pattern-
making shop, while the other half is used as a store-
room for chemicals in quantity and for chemical
apparatus and utensils. A grimly humorous incident,
as related by one of the laboratory staff, attaches to
No. 3. It seems that some time ago one of the
helpers in the chemical department, an excitable
foreigner, became dissatisfied with his wages, and
after making an unsuccessful application for an
increase, rushed in desperation to Edison, and said
"Eef I not get more money I go to take ze cyanide
potassia." Edison gave him one quick, searching
glance and, detecting a bluff, replied in an offhand
manner: "There's a five-pound bottle in No. 3," and
turned to his work again. The foreigner did not go
to get the cyanide, but gave up his job.

The last of these original buildings, No. 4, was used
for many years in Edison's ore-concentrating experiments,
and also for rough-and-ready operations of
other kinds, such as furnace work and the like. At
the present writing it is used as a general stock-room.

In the foregoing details, the reader has been afforded
but a passing glance at the great practical working
equipment which constitutes the theatre of Edison's
activities, for, in taking a general view of such a
unique and comprehensive laboratory plant, its salient
features only can be touched upon to advantage.
It would be but repetition to enumerate here the practical
results of the laboratory work during the past two
decades, as they appear on other pages of this work.
Nor can one assume for a moment that the history
of Edison's laboratory is a closed book. On the contrary,
its territorial boundaries have been increasing
step by step with the enlargement of its labors, until
now it has been obliged to go outside its own proper
domains to occupy some space in and about the great
Edison industrial buildings and space immediately
adjacent. It must be borne in mind that the laboratory
is only the core of a group of buildings devoted
to production on a huge scale by hundreds of artisans.

Incidental mention has already been made of the
laboratory at Edison's winter residence in Florida,
where he goes annually to spend a month or six
weeks. This is a miniature copy of the Orange laboratory,
with its machine shop, chemical-room, and general
experimental department. While it is only in
use during his sojourn there, and carries no extensive
corps of assistants, the work done in it is not of a
perfunctory nature, but is a continuation of his regular
activities, and serves to keep him in touch with the
progress of experiments at Orange, and enables him
to give instructions for their variation and continuance
as their scope is expanded by his own investigations
made while enjoying what he calls "vacation." What
Edison in Florida speaks of as "loafing" would be
for most of us extreme and healthy activity in the
cooler Far North.

A word or two may be devoted to the visitors received
at the laboratory, and to the correspondence.
It might be injudicious to gauge the greatness of a
man by the number of his callers or his letters; but
they are at least an indication of the degree to which
he interests the world. In both respects, for these
forty years, Edison has been a striking example of
the manner in which the sentiment of hero-worship
can manifest itself, and of the deep desire of curiosity
to get satisfaction by personal observation or contact.
Edison's mail, like that of most well-known
men, is extremely large, but composed in no small
degree of letters--thousands of them yearly--that
concern only the writers, and might well go to the
waste-paper basket without prolonged consideration.
The serious and important part of the mail, some
personal and some business, occupies the attention of
several men; all such letters finding their way promptly
into the proper channels, often with a pithy
endorsement by Edison scribbled on the margin. What
to do with a host of others it is often difficult to
decide, even when written by "cranks," who imagine
themselves subject to strange electrical ailments from
which Edison alone can relieve them. Many people
write asking his opinion as to a certain invention, or
offering him an interest in it if he will work it out.
Other people abroad ask help in locating lost
relatives; and many want advice as to what they shall
do with their sons, frequently budding geniuses whose
ability to wire a bell has demonstrated unusual
qualities. A great many persons want autographs,
and some would like photographs. The amazing
thing about it all is that this flood of miscellaneous
letters flows on in one steady, uninterrupted stream,
year in and year out; always a curious psychological
study in its variety and volume; and ever a
proof of the fact that once a man has become established
as a personality in the public eye and mind,
nothing can stop the tide of correspondence that
will deluge him.

It is generally, in the nature of things, easier to
write a letter than to make a call; and the semi-
retirement of Edison at a distance of an hour by
train from New York stands as a means of protection
to him against those who would certainly present
their respects in person, if he could be got at without
trouble. But it may be seriously questioned whether
in the aggregate Edison's visitors are less numerous
or less time-consuming than his epistolary besiegers.
It is the common experience of any visitor to the
laboratory that there are usually several persons
ahead of him, no matter what the hour of the day, and
some whose business has been sufficiently vital to
get them inside the porter's gate, or even into the big
library and lounging-room. Celebrities of all kinds
and distinguished foreigners are numerous--princes,
noblemen, ambassadors, artists, litterateurs, scientists,
financiers, women. A very large part of the visiting
is done by scientific bodies and societies; and then
the whole place will be turned over to hundreds of
eager, well-dressed men and women, anxious to see
everything and to be photographed in the big courtyard
around the central hero. Nor are these groups
and delegations limited to this country, for even
large parties of English, Dutch, Italian, or Japanese
visitors come from time to time, and are greeted with
the same ready hospitality, although Edison, it is easy to
see, is torn between the conflicting emotions of a desire to
be courteous, and an anxiety to guard the precious hours
of work, or watch the critical stage of a new experiment.

One distinct group of visitors has always been
constituted by the "newspaper men." Hardly a day
goes by that the journals do not contain some reference
to Edison's work or remarks; and the items are
generally based on an interview. The reporters are
never away from the laboratory very long; for if they
have no actual mission of inquiry, there is always the
chance of a good story being secured offhand; and
the easy, inveterate good-nature of Edison toward
reporters is proverbial in the craft. Indeed, it must
be stated here that once in a while this confidence has
been abused; that stories have been published utterly
without foundation; that interviews have been
printed which never took place; that articles with
Edison's name as author have been widely circulated,
although he never saw them; and that in such ways
he has suffered directly. But such occasional incidents
tend in no wise to lessen Edison's warm admiration
of the press or his readiness to avail himself of
it whenever a representative goes over to Orange to
get the truth or the real facts in regard to any matter
of public importance. As for the newspaper clippings
containing such articles, or others in which Edison's
name appears--they are literally like sands of the
sea-shore for number; and the archives of the laboratory
that preserve only a very minute percentage of
them are a further demonstration of what publicity
means, where a figure like Edison is concerned.




CHAPTER XXVI

EDISON IN COMMERCE AND MANUFACTURE

AN applicant for membership in the Engineers'
Club of Philadelphia is required to give a brief
statement of the professional work he has done.
Some years ago a certain application was made, and
contained the following terse and modest sentence:


"I have designed a concentrating plant and built a
machine shop, etc., etc.              THOMAS A. EDISON."


Although in the foregoing pages the reader has been
made acquainted with the tremendous import of the
actualities lying behind those "etc., etc.," the narrative
up to this point has revealed Edison chiefly in
the light of inventor, experimenter, and investigator.
There have been some side glimpses of the industries
he has set on foot, and of their financial aspects, and
a later chapter will endeavor to sum up the intrinsic
value of Edison's work to the world. But there are
some other interesting points that may be touched on
now in regard to a few of Edison's financial and commercial
ventures not generally known or appreciated.

It is a popular idea founded on experience that an
inventor is not usually a business man. One of the
exceptions proving the rule may perhaps be met in
Edison, though all depends on the point of view.
All his life he has had a great deal to do with finance
and commerce, and as one looks at the magnitude of
the vast industries he has helped to create, it would
not be at all unreasonable to expect him to be among
the multi-millionaires. That he is not is due to the
absence of certain qualities, the lack of which Edison
is himself the first to admit. Those qualities may not
be amiable, but great wealth is hardly ever accumulated
without them. If he had not been so intent
on inventing he would have made more of his great
opportunities for getting rich. If this utter detachment
from any love of money for its own sake has not
already been illustrated in some of the incidents
narrated, one or two stories are available to emphasize
the point. They do not involve any want of the higher
business acumen that goes to the proper conduct
of affairs. It was said of Gladstone that he was the
greatest Chancellor of the Exchequer England ever
saw, but that as a retail merchant he would soon
have ruined himself by his bookkeeping.

Edison confesses that he has never made a cent
out of his patents in electric light and power--in
fact, that they have been an expense to him, and thus
a free gift to the world.[18] This was true of the Euro-
pean patents as well as the American. "I endeavored
to sell my lighting patents in different countries
of Europe, and made a contract with a couple of
men. On account of their poor business capacity
and lack of practicality, they conveyed under the
patents all rights to different corporations but in
such a way and with such confused wording of the
contracts that I never got a cent. One of the companies
started was the German Edison, now the great
Allgemeine Elektricitaets Gesellschaft. The English
company I never got anything for, because a
lawyer had originally advised Drexel, Morgan & Co.
as to the signing of a certain document, and said it
was all right for me to sign. I signed, and I never
got a cent because there was a clause in it which
prevented me from ever getting anything." A certain
easy-going belief in human nature, and even a
certain carelessness of attitude toward business
affairs, are here revealed. We have already pointed
out two instances where in his dealings with the
Western Union Company he stipulated that payments
of $6000 per year for seventeen years were to
be made instead of $100,000 in cash, evidently forgetful
of the fact that the annual sum so received was
nothing more than legal interest, which could have
been earned indefinitely if the capital had been only
insisted upon. In later life Edison has been more
circumspect, but throughout his early career he was
constantly getting into some kind of scrape. Of one
experience he says:


[18] Edison received some stock from the parent lighting company,
but as the capital stock of that company was increased from time
to time, his proportion grew smaller, and he ultimately used it to
obtain ready money with which to create and finance the various
"shops" in which were manufactured the various items of electric-
lighting apparatus necessary to exploit his system. Besides, he
was obliged to raise additional large sums of money from other
sources for this purpose. He thus became a manufacturer with
capital raised by himself, and the stock that he received later, on
the formation of the General Electric Company, was not for his
electric-light patents, but was in payment for his manufacturing
establishments, which had then grown to be of great commercial
importance.



"In the early days I was experimenting with metallic
filaments for the incandescent light, and sent a
certain man out to California in search of platinum.
He found a considerable quantity in the sluice-boxes
of the Cherokee Valley Mining Company; but just
then he found also that fruit-gardening was the thing,
and dropped the subject. He then came to me and
said that if he could raise $4000 he could go into some
kind of orchard arrangement out there, and would
give me half the profits. I was unwilling to do it,
not having very much money just then, but his persistence
was such that I raised the money and gave
it to him. He went back to California, and got into
mining claims and into fruit-growing, and became
one of the politicians of the Coast, and, I believe, was
on the staff of the Governor of the State. A couple
of years ago he wounded his daughter and shot himself
because he had become ruined financially. I
never heard from him after he got the money."

Edison tells of another similar episode. "I had two
men working for me--one a German, the other a Jew.
They wanted me to put up a little money and start
them in a shop in New York to make repairs, etc. I
put up $800, and was to get half of the profits, and
each of them one-quarter. I never got anything for
it. A few years afterward I went to see them, and
asked what they were doing, and said I would like
to sell my interest. They said: `Sell out what?'
`Why,' I said, `my interest in the machinery.' They
said: `You don't own this machinery. This is our
machinery. You have no papers to show anything.
You had better get out.' I am inclined to think that
the percentage of crooked people was smaller when
I was young. It has been steadily rising, and has got
up to a very respectable figure now. I hope it will
never reach par." To which lugubrious episode so
provocative of cynicism, Edison adds: "When I was
a young fellow the first thing I did when I went to
a town was to put something into the savings-bank
and start an account. When I came to New York
I put $30 into a savings-bank under the New York
Sun office. After the money had been in about two
weeks the bank busted. That was in 1870. In 1909
I got back $6.40, with a charge for $1.75 for law
expenses. That shows the beauty of New York
receiverships."

It is hardly to be wondered at that Edison is rather
frank and unsparing in some of his criticisms of shady
modern business methods, and the mention of the
following incident always provokes him to a fine
scorn. "I had an interview with one of the wealthiest
men in New York. He wanted me to sell out my
associates in the electric lighting business, and offered
me all I was going to get and $100,000 besides. Of
course I would not do it. I found out that the reason
for this offer was that he had had trouble with Mr.
Morgan, and wanted to get even with him." Wall
Street is, in fact, a frequent object of rather sarcastic
reference, applying even to its regular and probably
correct methods of banking. "When I was running
my ore-mine," he says, "and got up to the point of
making shipments to John Fritz, I didn't have capital
enough to carry the ore, so I went to J. P. Morgan &
Co. and said I wanted them to give me a letter
to the City Bank. I wanted to raise some money.
I got a letter to Mr. Stillman; and went over and told
him I wanted to open an account and get some loans
and discounts. He turned me down, and would not
do it. `Well,' I said, `isn't it banking to help a man
in this way?' He said: `What you want is a partner.'
I felt very much crestfallen. I went over to a bank
in Newark--the Merchants'--and told them what I
wanted. They said: `Certainly, you can have the
money.' I made my deposit, and they pulled me
through all right. My idea of Wall Street banking
has been very poor since that time. Merchant banking
seems to be different."

As a general thing, Edison has had no trouble in
raising money when he needed it, the reason being
that people have faith in him as soon as they come
to know him. A little incident bears on this point.
"In operating the Schenectady works Mr. Insull and
I had a terrible burden. We had enormous orders and
little money, and had great difficulty to meet our pay-
rolls and buy supplies. At one time we had so many
orders on hand we wanted $200,000 worth of copper,
and didn't have a cent to buy it. We went down to
the Ansonia Brass and Copper Company, and told Mr.
Cowles just how we stood. He said: `I will see what
I can do. Will you let my bookkeeper look at your
books?' We said: `Come right up and look them
over.' He sent his man up and found we had the
orders and were all right, although we didn't have the
money. He said: `I will let you have the copper.'
And for years he trusted us for all the copper we wanted,
even if we didn't have the money to pay for it."

It is not generally known that Edison, in addition
to being a newsboy and a contributor to the technical
press, has also been a backer and an "angel" for
various publications. This is perhaps the right place
at which to refer to the matter, as it belongs in the
list of his financial or commercial enterprises. Edison
sums up this chapter of his life very pithily. "I was
interested, as a telegrapher, in journalism, and started
the Telegraph Journal, and got out about a dozen
numbers when it was taken over by W. J. Johnston,
who afterward founded the Electrical World on it as
an offshoot from the Operator. I also started Science,
and ran it for a year and a half. It cost me too much
money to maintain, and I sold it to Gardiner Hubbard,
the father-in-law of Alexander Graham Bell.
He carried it along for years." Both these papers are
still in prosperous existence, particularly the Electrical
World, as the recognized exponent of electrical
development in America, where now the public spends
as much annually for electricity as it does for daily
bread.

From all that has been said above it will be understood
that Edison's real and remarkable capacity for
business does not lie in ability to "take care of himself,"
nor in the direction of routine office practice,
nor even in ordinary administrative affairs. In short,
he would and does regard it as a foolish waste of his
time to give attention to the mere occupancy of a
desk.

His commercial strength manifests itself rather in
the outlining of matters relating to organization and
broad policy with a sagacity arising from a shrewd
perception and appreciation of general business
requirements and conditions, to which should be added
his intensely comprehensive grasp of manufacturing
possibilities and details, and an unceasing vigilance
in devising means of improving the quality of products
and increasing the economy of their manufacture.

Like other successful commanders, Edison also possesses
the happy faculty of choosing suitable lieutenants
to carry out his policies and to manage the
industries he has created, such, for instance, as those
with which this chapter has to deal--namely, the
phonograph, motion picture, primary battery, and
storage battery enterprises.

The Portland cement business has already been
dealt with separately, and although the above remarks
are appropriate to it also, Edison being its head and
informing spirit, the following pages are intended to
be devoted to those industries that are grouped around
the laboratory at Orange, and that may be taken as
typical of Edison's methods on the manufacturing side.

Within a few months after establishing himself at
the present laboratory, in 1887, Edison entered upon
one of those intensely active periods of work that
have been so characteristic of his methods in
commercializing his other inventions. In this case his
labors were directed toward improving the phonograph
so as to put it into thoroughly practicable
form, capable of ordinary use by the public at large.
The net result of this work was the general type of
machine of which the well-known phonograph of today
is a refinement evolved through many years of
sustained experiment and improvement.

After a considerable period of strenuous activity
in the eighties, the phonograph and its wax records
were developed to a sufficient degree of perfection to
warrant him in making arrangements for their manufacture
and commercial introduction. At this time
the surroundings of the Orange laboratory were
distinctly rural in character. Immediately adjacent to
the main building and the four smaller structures,
constituting the laboratory plant, were grass meadows
that stretched away for some considerable distance
in all directions, and at its back door, so to
speak, ducks paddled around and quacked in a pond
undisturbed. Being now ready for manufacturing,
but requiring more facilities, Edison increased his
real-estate holdings by purchasing a large tract of
land lying contiguous to what he already owned. At
one end of the newly acquired land two unpretentious
brick structures were erected, equipped with first-
class machinery, and put into commission as shops
for manufacturing phonographs and their record
blanks; while the capacious hall forming the third
story of the laboratory, over the library, was fitted
up and used as a music-room where records were
made.

Thus the modern Edison phonograph made its
modest debut in 1888, in what was then called the
"Improved" form to distinguish it from the original
style of machine he invented in 1877, in which the
record was made on a sheet of tin-foil held in place
upon a metallic cylinder. The "Improved" form is
the general type so well known for many years and
sold at the present day--viz., the spring or electric
motor-driven machine with the cylindrical wax record--in
fact, the regulation Edison phonograph.

It did not take a long time to find a market for the
products of the newly established factory, for a world-
wide public interest in the machine had been created
by the appearance of newspaper articles from time
to time, announcing the approaching completion by
Edison of his improved phonograph. The original
(tin-foil) machine had been sufficient to illustrate the
fact that the human voice and other sounds could
be recorded and reproduced, but such a type
of machine had sharp limitations in general use;
hence the coming into being of a type that any
ordinary person could handle was sufficient of itself
to insure a market. Thus the demand for the new
machines and wax records grew apace as the corporations
organized to handle the business extended their
lines. An examination of the newspaper files of the
years 1888, 1889, and 1890 will reveal the great
excitement caused by the bringing out of the new
phonograph, and how frequently and successfully it
was employed in public entertainments, either for
the whole or part of an evening. In this and other
ways it became popularized to a still further extent.
This led to the demand for a nickel-in-the-slot
machine, which, when established, became immensely
popular over the whole country. In its earlier forms
the "Improved" phonograph was not capable of
such general non-expert handling as is the machine
of the present day, and consequently there was a
constant endeavor on Edison's part to simplify the
construction of the machine and its manner of opera-
tion. Experimentation was incessantly going on with
this in view, and in the processes of evolution changes
were made here and there that resulted in a still greater
measure of perfection.

In various ways there was a continual slow and
steady growth of the industry thus created, necessitating
the erection of many additional buildings as the
years passed by. During part of the last decade
there was a lull, caused mostly from the failure of
corporate interests to carry out their contract relations
with Edison, and he was thereby compelled to
resort to legal proceedings, at the end of which he
bought in the outstanding contracts and assumed
command of the business personally.

Being thus freed from many irksome restrictions
that had hung heavily upon him, Edison now proceeded
to push the phonograph business under a
broader policy than that which obtained under his
previous contractual relations. With the ever-increasing
simplification and efficiency of the machine
and a broadening of its application, the results of this
policy were manifested in a still more rapid growth
of the business that necessitated further additions to
the manufacturing plant. And thus matters went on
until the early part of the present decade, when the
factory facilities were becoming so rapidly outgrown
as to render radical changes necessary. It
was in these circumstances that Edison's sagacity and
breadth of business capacity came to the front. With
characteristic boldness and foresight he planned the
erection of the series of magnificent concrete buildings
that now stand adjacent to and around the
laboratory, and in which the manufacturing plant is
at present housed.

There was no narrowness in his views in designing
these buildings, but, on the contrary, great faith in
the future, for his plans included not only the phonograph
industry, but provided also for the coming
development of motion pictures and of the primary
and storage battery enterprises.

In the aggregate there are twelve structures (including
the administration building), of which six
are of imposing dimensions, running from 200 feet
long by 50 feet wide to 440 feet in length by 115 feet
in width, all these larger buildings, except one, being
five stories in height. They are constructed entirely
of reinforced concrete with Edison cement, including
walls, floors, and stairways, thus eliminating fire
hazard to the utmost extent, and insuring a high
degree of protection, cleanliness, and sanitation. As
fully three-fourths of the area of their exterior framework
consists of windows, an abundance of daylight
is secured. These many advantages, combined with
lofty ceilings on every floor, provide ideal conditions
for the thousands of working people engaged in this
immense plant.

In addition to these twelve concrete structures
there are a few smaller brick and wooden buildings on
the grounds, in which some special operations are
conducted. These, however, are few in number, and
at some future time will be concentrated in one or
more additional concrete buildings. It will afford a
clearer idea of the extent of the industries clustered
immediately around the laboratory when it is stated
that the combined floor space which is occupied by
them in all these buildings is equivalent in the aggregate
to over fourteen acres.

It would be instructive, but scarcely within the
scope of the narrative, to conduct the reader through
this extensive plant and see its many interesting
operations in detail. It must suffice, however, to
note its complete and ample equipment with modern
machinery of every kind applicable to the work;
its numerous (and some of them wonderfully ingenious)
methods, processes, machines, and tools
specially designed or invented for the manufacture
of special parts and supplemental appliances for the
phonograph or other Edison products; and also to
note the interesting variety of trades represented in
the different departments, in which are included
chemists, electricians, electrical mechanicians, machinists,
mechanics, pattern-makers, carpenters, cabinet-makers,
varnishers, japanners, tool-makers, lapidaries,
wax experts, photographic developers and
printers, opticians, electroplaters, furnacemen, and
others, together with factory experimenters and a
host of general employees, who by careful training
have become specialists and experts in numerous
branches of these industries.

Edison's plans for this manufacturing plant were
sufficiently well outlined to provide ample capacity
for the natural growth of the business; and although
that capacity (so far as phonographs is concerned)
has actually reached an output of over 6000 complete
phonographs PER WEEK, and upward of 130,000
molded records PER DAY--with a pay-roll embracing
over 3500 employees, including office force--and
amounting to about $45,000 per week--the limits of
production have not yet been reached.

The constant outpouring of products in such large
quantities bespeaks the unremitting activities of an
extensive and busy selling organization to provide
for their marketing and distribution. This important
department (the National Phonograph Company), in
all its branches, from president to office-boy, includes
about two hundred employees on its office pay-roll, and
makes its headquarters in the administration building,
which is one of the large concrete structures
above referred to. The policy of the company is to
dispose of its wares through regular trade channels
rather than to deal direct with the public, trusting
to local activity as stimulated by a liberal policy of
national advertising. Thus, there has been gradually
built up a very extensive business until at the present
time an enormous output of phonographs and records
is distributed to retail customers in the United
States and Canada through the medium of about
one hundred and fifty jobbers and over thirteen
thousand dealers. The Edison phonograph industry
thus organized is helped by frequent conventions of
this large commercial force.

Besides this, the National Phonograph Company
maintains a special staff for carrying on the business
with foreign countries. While the aggregate transactions
of this department are not as extensive as
those for the United States and Canada, they are of
considerable volume, as the foreign office distributes
in bulk a very large number of phonographs and rec-
ords to selling companies and agencies in Europe,
Asia, Australia, Japan, and, indeed, to all the countries
of the civilized world.[19] Like England's drumbeat,
the voice of the Edison phonograph is heard around
the world in undying strains throughout the twenty-
four hours.


[19] It may be of interest to the reader to note some parts of
the globe to which shipments of phonographs and records are made:

Samoan Islands
Falkland Islands
Siam
Corea
Crete Island
Paraguay
Chile
Canary Islands
Egypt
British East Africa
Cape Colony
Portuguese East Africa
Liberia
Java
Straits Settlements
Madagascar
Fanning Islands
New Zealand
French Indo-China
Morocco
Ecuador
Brazil
Madeira
South Africa
Azores
Manchuria
Ceylon
Sierra
Leone



In addition to the main manufacturing plant at
Orange, another important adjunct must not be forgotten,
and that is, the Recording Department in
New York City, where the master records are made
under the superintendence of experts who have
studied the intricacies of the art with Edison himself.
This department occupies an upper story in
a lofty building, and in its various rooms may be
seen and heard many prominent musicians, vocalists,
speakers, and vaudeville artists studiously and busily
engaged in making the original records, which are
afterward sent to Orange, and which, if approved by
the expert committee, are passed on to the proper
department for reproduction in large quantities.

When we consider the subject of motion pictures
we find a similarity in general business methods, for
while the projecting machines and copies of picture
films are made in quantity at the Orange works (just
as phonographs and duplicate records are so made),
the original picture, or film, like the master record,
is made elsewhere. There is this difference, however:
that, from the particular nature of the work, practically
ALL master records are made at one convenient
place, while the essential interest in SOME motion
pictures lies in the fact that they are taken in various
parts of the world, often under exceptional circumstances.
The "silent drama," however, calls also for
many representations which employ conventional
acting, staging, and the varied appliances of stage-
craft. Hence, Edison saw early the necessity of
providing a place especially devised and arranged for
the production of dramatic performances in pantomime.

It is a far cry from the crude structure of early
days--the "Black Maria" of 1891, swung around on
its pivot in the Orange laboratory yard--to the well-
appointed Edison theatres, or pantomime studios, in
New York City. The largest of these is located in
the suburban Borough of the Bronx, and consists of
a three-story-and-basement building of reinforced
concrete, in which are the offices, dressing-rooms,
wardrobe and property-rooms, library and developing
department. Contiguous to this building, and
connected with it, is the theatre proper, a large and
lofty structure whose sides and roof are of glass, and
whose floor space is sufficiently ample for six different
sets of scenery at one time, with plenty of room left
for a profusion of accessories, such as tables, chairs,
pianos, bunch-lights, search-lights, cameras, and a
host of varied paraphernalia pertaining to stage
effects.

The second Edison theatre, or studio, is located
not far from the shopping district in New York City.
In all essential features, except size and capacity, it
is a duplicate of the one in the Bronx, of which it
is a supplement.

To a visitor coming on the floor of such a theatre
for the first time there is a sense of confusion in
beholding the heterogeneous "sets" of scenery and the
motley assemblage of characters represented in the
various plays in the process of "taking," or rehearsal.
While each set constitutes virtually a separate stage,
they are all on the same floor, without wings or
proscenium-arches, and separated only by a few feet.
Thus, for instance, a Japanese house interior may be
seen cheek by jowl with an ordinary prison cell,
flanked by a mining-camp, which in turn stands next
to a drawing-room set, and in each a set of appropriate
characters in pantomimic motion. The action
is incessant, for in any dramatic representation
intended for the motion-picture film every second
counts.

The production of several completed plays per
week necessitates the employment of a considerable
staff of people of miscellaneous trades and abilities.
At each of these two studios there is employed a
number of stage-directors, scene-painters, carpenters,
property-men, photographers, costumers, electricians,
clerks, and general assistants, besides a capable stock
company of actors and actresses, whose generous num-
bers are frequently augmented by the addition of a
special star, or by a number of extra performers, such
as Rough Riders or other specialists. It may be,
occasionally, that the exigencies of the occasion require
the work of a performing horse, dog, or other animal.
No matter what the object required may be, whether
animate or inanimate, if it is necessary for the play
it is found and pressed into service.

These two studios, while separated from the main
plant, are under the same general management, and
their original negative films are forwarded as made
to the Orange works, where the large copying department
is located in one of the concrete buildings.
Here, after the film has been passed upon by a committee,
a considerable number of positive copies are
made by ingenious processes, and after each one is
separately tested, or "run off," in one or other of the
three motion-picture theatres in the building, they
are shipped out to film exchanges in every part of
the country. How extensive this business has become
may be appreciated when it is stated that at
the Orange plant there are produced at this time
over eight million feet of motion-picture film per
year. And Edison's company is only one of many
producers.

Another of the industries at the Orange works is
the manufacture of projecting kinetoscopes, by means
of which the motion pictures are shown. While this
of itself is also a business of considerable magnitude
in its aggregate yearly transactions, it calls for no
special comment in regard to commercial production,
except to note that a corps of experimenters is con-
stantly employed refining and perfecting details of
the machine. Its basic features of operation as conceived
by Edison remain unchanged.

On coming to consider the Edison battery enterprises,
we must perforce extend the territorial view to
include a special chemical-manufacturing plant, which
is in reality a branch of the laboratory and the Orange
works, although actually situated about three miles
away.

Both the primary and the storage battery employ
certain chemical products as essential parts of their
elements, and indeed owe their very existence to the
peculiar preparation and quality of such products, as
exemplified by Edison's years of experimentation and
research. Hence the establishment of his own chemical
works at Silver Lake, where, under his personal
supervision, the manufacture of these products is carried
on in charge of specially trained experts. At the
present writing the plant covers about seven acres
of ground; but there is ample room for expansion,
as Edison, with wise forethought, secured over forty
acres of land, so as to be prepared for developments.

Not only is the Silver Lake works used for the
manufacture of the chemical substances employed in
the batteries, but it is the plant at which the Edison
primary battery is wholly assembled and made up
for distribution to customers. This in itself is a
business of no small magnitude, having grown steadily
on its merits year by year until it has now arrived at
a point where its sales run into the hundreds of
thousands of cells per annum, furnished largely to the
steam railroads of the country for their signal service.

As to the storage battery, the plant at Silver Lake
is responsible only for the production of the chemical
compounds, nickel-hydrate and iron oxide, which enter
into its construction. All the mechanical parts, the
nickel plating, the manufacture of nickel flake, the
assembling and testing, are carried on at the Orange
works in two of the large concrete buildings above
referred to. A visit to this part of the plant reveals an
amazing fertility of resourcefulness and ingenuity in the
devising of the special machines and appliances employed
in constructing the mechanical parts of these
cells, for it is practically impossible to fashion them
by means of machinery and tools to be found in the
open market, notwithstanding the immense variety
that may be there obtained.

Since Edison completed his final series of investigations
on his storage battery and brought it to its
present state of perfection, the commercial values
have increased by leaps and bounds. The battery,
as it was originally put out some years ago, made for
itself an enviable reputation; but with its improved
form there has come a vast increase of business.
Although the largest of the concrete buildings where
its manufacture is carried on is over four hundred
feet long and four stories in height, it has already
become necessary to plan extensions and enlargements
of the plant in order to provide for the production
of batteries to fill the present demands. It
was not until the summer of 1909 that Edison was
willing to pronounce the final verdict of satisfaction
with regard to this improved form of storage battery;
but subsequent commercial results have justified his
judgment, and it is not too much to predict that in
all probability the business will assume gigantic
proportions within a very few years. At the present
time (1910) the Edison storage-battery enterprise is
in its early stages of growth, and its status may be
compared with that of the electric-light system about
the year 1881.

There is one more industry, though of comparatively
small extent, that is included in the activities
of the Orange works, namely, the manufacture and
sale of the Bates numbering machine. This is a well-
known article of commerce, used in mercantile
establishments for the stamping of consecutive,
duplicate, and manifold numbers on checks and other
documents. It is not an invention of Edison, but
the organization owning it, together with the patent
rights, were acquired by him some years ago, and he
has since continued and enlarged the business both
in scope and volume, besides, of course, improving
and perfecting the apparatus itself. These machines
are known everywhere throughout the country, and
while the annual sales are of comparatively moderate
amount in comparison with the totals of the other
Edison industries at Orange, they represent in the
aggregate a comfortable and encouraging business.

In this brief outline review of the flourishing and
extensive commercial enterprises centred around the
Orange laboratory, the facts, it is believed, contain a
complete refutation of the idea that an inventor
cannot be a business man. They also bear abundant
evidence of the compatibility of these two widely
divergent gifts existing, even to a high degree, in the
same person. A striking example of the correctness
of this proposition is afforded in the present case,
when it is borne in mind that these various industries
above described (whose annual sales run into many
millions of dollars) owe not only their very creation
(except the Bates machine) and existence to Edison's
inventive originality and commercial initiative, but
also their continued growth and prosperity to his
incessant activities in dealing with their multifarious
business problems. In publishing a portrait of Edison
this year, one of the popular magazines placed under
it this caption: "Were the Age called upon to pay
Thomas A. Edison all it owes to him, the Age would
have to make an assignment." The present chapter
will have thrown some light on the idiosyncrasies of
Edison as financier and as manufacturer, and will
have shown that while the claim thus suggested may
be quite good, it will certainly never be pressed or
collected.



CHAPTER XXVII

THE VALUE OF EDISON'S INVENTIONS TO
THE WORLD

IF the world were to take an account of stock, so
to speak, and proceed in orderly fashion to marshal
its tangible assets in relation to dollars and
cents, the natural resources of our globe, from centre
to circumference, would head the list. Next would
come inventors, whose value to the world as an asset
could be readily estimated from an increase of its
wealth resulting from the actual transformations of
these resources into items of convenience and comfort
through the exercise of their inventive ingenuity.

Inventors of practical devices may be broadly divided
into two classes--first, those who may be said
to have made two blades of grass grow where only
one grew before; and, second, great inventors, who
have made grass grow plentifully on hitherto unproductive
ground. The vast majority of practical inventors
belong to and remain in the first of these
divisions, but there have been, and probably always
will be, a less number who, by reason of their greater
achievements, are entitled to be included in both
classes. Of these latter, Thomas Alva Edison is one,
but in the pages of history he stands conspicuously
pre-eminent--a commanding towering figure, even
among giants.

The activities of Edison have been of such great
range, and his conquests in the domains of practical
arts so extensive and varied, that it is somewhat
difficult to estimate with any satisfactory degree of
accuracy the money value of his inventions to the
world of to-day, even after making due allowance
for the work of other great inventors and the propulsive
effect of large amounts of capital thrown into
the enterprises which took root, wholly or in part,
through the productions of his genius and energies.
This difficulty will be apparent, for instance, when we
consider his telegraph and telephone inventions.
These were absorbed in enterprises already existing,
and were the means of assisting their rapid growth
and expansion, particularly the telephone industry.
Again, in considering the fact that Edison was one
of the first in the field to design and perfect a practical
and operative electric railway, the main features
of which are used in all electric roads of to-day, we are
confronted with the problem as to what proportion of
their colossal investment and earnings should be
ascribed to him.

Difficulties are multiplied when we pause for a
moment to think of Edison's influence on collateral
branches of business. In the public mind he is
credited with the invention of the incandescent electric
light, the phonograph, and other widely known
devices; but how few realize his actual influence on
other trades that are not generally thought of in connection
with these things. For instance, let us note
what a prominent engine builder, the late Gardiner
C. Sims, has said: "Watt, Corliss, and Porter brought
forward steam-engines to a high state of proficiency,
yet it remained for Mr. Edison to force better proportions,
workmanship, designs, use of metals, regulation,
the solving of the complex problems of high
speed and endurance, and the successful development
of the shaft governor. Mr. Edison is pre-
eminent in the realm of engineering."

The phenomenal growth of the copper industry was
due to a rapid and ever-increasing demand, owing to
the exploitation of the telephone, electric light, electric
motor, and electric railway industries. Without
these there might never have been the romance of
"Coppers" and the rise and fall of countless fortunes.
And although one cannot estimate in definite figures
the extent of Edison's influence in the enormous increase
of copper production, it is to be remembered
that his basic inventions constitute a most important
factor in the demand for the metal. Besides, one
must also give him the credit, as already noted, for
having recognized the necessity for a pure quality of
copper for electric conductors, and for his persistence
in having compelled the manufacturers of that period
to introduce new and additional methods of refinement
so as to bring about that result, which is now
a sine qua non.

Still considering his influence on other staples and
collateral trades, let us enumerate briefly and in a
general manner some of the more important and additional
ones that have been not merely stimulated,
but in many cases the business and sales have been
directly increased and new arts established through
the inventions of this one man--namely, iron, steel,
brass, zinc, nickel, platinum ($5 per ounce in 1878,
now $26 an ounce), rubber, oils, wax, bitumen, various
chemical compounds, belting, boilers, injectors, structural
steel, iron tubing, glass, silk, cotton, porcelain,
fine woods, slate, marble, electrical measuring instruments,
miscellaneous machinery, coal, wire, paper,
building materials, sapphires, and many others.

The question before us is, To what extent has
Edison added to the wealth of the world by his
inventions and his energy and perseverance? It will
be noted from the foregoing that no categorical answer
can be offered to such a question, but sufficient material
can be gathered from a statistical review of the
commercial arts directly influenced to afford an
approximate idea of the increase in national wealth that
has been affected by or has come into being through
the practical application of his ideas.

First of all, as to inventions capable of fairly definite
estimate, let us mention the incandescent electric
light and systems of distribution of electric light,
heat, and power, which may justly be considered as
the crowning inventions of Edison's life. Until October
21, 1879, there was nothing in existence resembling
our modern incandescent lamp. On that date,
as we have seen in a previous chapter, Edison's labors
culminated in his invention of a practical incandescent
electric lamp embodying absolutely all the essentials
of the lamp of to-day, thus opening to the
world the doors of a new art and industry. To-day
there are in the United States more than 41,000,000
of these lamps, connected to existing central-station
circuits in active operation.

Such circuits necessarily imply the existence of
central stations with their equipment. Until the
beginning of 1882 there were only a few arc-lighting
stations in existence for the limited distribution of
current. At the present time there are over 6000
central stations in this country for the distribution
of electric current for light, heat, and power, with
capital obligations amounting to not less than
$1,000,000,000. Besides the above-named 41,000,000
incandescent lamps connected to their mains, there are
about 500,000 arc lamps and 150,000 motors, using
750,000 horse-power, besides countless fan motors
and electric heating and cooking appliances.

When it is stated that the gross earnings of these
central stations approximate the sum of $225,000,000
yearly, the significant import of these statistics of
an art that came so largely from Edison's laboratory
about thirty years ago will undoubtedly be apparent.

But the above are not by any means all the facts
relating to incandescent electric lighting in the United
States, for in addition to central stations there are
upward of 100,000 isolated or private plants in mills,
factories, steamships, hotels, theatres, etc., owned by
the persons or concerns who operate them. These
plants represent an approximate investment of
$500,000,000, and the connection of not less than
25,000,000 incandescent lamps or their equivalent.

Then there are the factories where these incandescent
lamps are made, about forty in number, repre-
sensing a total investment that may be approximated
at $25,000,000. It is true that many of these factories
are operated by other than the interests which
came into control of the Edison patents (General
Electric Company), but the 150,000,000 incandescent
electric lamps now annually made are broadly covered
in principle by Edison's fundamental ideas and
patents.

It will be noted that these figures are all in round
numbers, but they are believed to be well within the
mark, being primarily founded upon the special reports
of the Census Bureau issued in 1902 and 1907,
with the natural increase from that time computed
by experts who are in position to obtain the facts.
It would be manifestly impossible to give exact figures
of such a gigantic and swiftly moving industry,
whose totals increase from week to week.

The reader will naturally be disposed to ask whether
it is intended to claim that Edison has brought about
all this magnificent growth of the electric-lighting
art. The answer to this is decidedly in the negative,
for the fact is that he laid some of the foundation
and erected a building thereon, and in the natural
progressive order of things other inventors of more
or less fame have laid substructures or added a wing
here and a story there until the resultant great structure
has attained such proportions as to evoke the
admiration of the beholder; but the old foundation
and the fundamental building still remain to support
other parts. In other words, Edison created the
incandescent electric lamp, and invented certain
broad and fundamental systems of distribution of
current, with all the essential devices of detail necessary
for successful operation. These formed a foundation.
He also spent great sums of money and devoted
several years of patient labor in the early
practical exploitation of the dynamo and central
station and isolated plants, often under, adverse and
depressing circumstances, with a dogged determination
that outlived an opposition steadily threatening
defeat. These efforts resulted in the firm commercial
establishment of modern electric lighting. It is true
that many important inventions of others have a
distinguished place in the art as it is exploited today,
but the fact remains that the broad essentials,
such as the incandescent lamp, systems of distribution,
and some important details, are not only universally
used, but are as necessary to-day for successful
commercial practice as they were when Edison
invented them many years ago.

The electric railway next claims our consideration,
but we are immediately confronted by a difficulty
which seems insurmountable when we attempt to
formulate any definite estimate of the value and
influence of Edison's pioneer work and inventions.
There is one incontrovertible fact--namely, that he
was the first man to devise, construct, and operate
from a central station a practicable, life-size electric
railroad, which was capable of transporting and did
transport passengers and freight at variable speeds
over varying grades, and under complete control
of the operator. These are the essential elements
in all electric railroading of the present day; but
while Edison's original broad ideas are embodied
in present practice, the perfection of the modern electric
railway is greatly due to the labors and inventions
of a large number of other well-known inventors.
There was no reason why Edison could not have continued
the commercial development of the electric
railway after he had helped to show its practicability
in 1880, 1881, and 1882, just as he had completed his
lighting system, had it not been that his financial
allies of the period lacked faith in the possibilities of
electric railroads, and therefore declined to furnish
the money necessary for the purpose of carrying on
the work.

With these facts in mind, we shall ask the reader
to assign to Edison a due proportion of credit for his
pioneer and basic work in relation to the prodigious
development of electric railroading that has since
taken place. The statistics of 1908 for American
street and elevated railways show that within twenty-
five years the electric-railway industry has grown to
embrace 38,812 miles of track on streets and for
elevated railways, operated under the ownership of
1238 separate companies, whose total capitalization
amounted to the enormous sum of $4,123,834,598. In
the equipments owned by such companies there are
included 68,636 electric cars and 17,568 trailers and
others, making a total of 86,204 of such vehicles.
These cars and equipments earned over $425,000,000
in 1907, in giving the public transportation, at a cost,
including transfers, of a little over three cents per
passenger, for whom a fifteen-mile ride would be
possible. It is the cheapest transportation in the
world.

Some mention should also be made of the great
electrical works of the country, in which the dynamos,
motors, and other varied paraphernalia are made for
electric lighting, electric railway, and other purposes.
The largest of these works is undoubtedly that of the
General Electric Company at Schenectady, New York,
a continuation and enormous enlargement of the
shops which Edison established there in 1886. This
plant at the present time embraces over 275 acres,
of which sixty acres are covered by fifty large and
over one hundred small buildings; besides which the
company also owns other large plants elsewhere,
representing a total investment approximating the sum
of $34,850,000 up to 1908. The productions of the
General Electric Company alone average annual sales
of nearly $75,000,000, but they do not comprise
the total of the country's manufactures in these
lines.

Turning our attention now to the telephone, we
again meet a condition that calls for thoughtful
consideration before we can properly appreciate how
much the growth of this industry owes to Edison's
inventive genius. In another place there has already
been told the story of the telephone, from which we
have seen that to Alexander Graham Bell is due the
broad idea of transmission of speech by means of an
electrical circuit; also that he invented appropriate
instruments and devices through which he accomplished
this result, although not to that extent which
gave promise of any great commercial practicability
for the telephone as it then existed. While the art
was in this inefficient condition, Edison went to work
on the subject, and in due time, as we have already
learned, invented and brought out the carbon transmitter,
which is universally acknowledged to have
been the needed device that gave to the telephone
the element of commercial practicability, and has
since led to its phenomenally rapid adoption and
world-wide use. It matters not that others were
working in the same direction, Edison was legally
adjudicated to have been the first to succeed in point
of time, and his inventions were put into actual use,
and may be found in principle in every one of the
7,000,000 telephones which are estimated to be employed
in the country at the present day. Basing
the statements upon facts shown by the Census reports
of 1902 and 1907, and adding thereto the growth
of the industry since that time, we find on a conservative
estimate that at this writing the investment has
been not less than $800,000,000 in now existing telephone
systems, while no fewer than 10,500,000,000
talks went over the lines during the year 1908. These
figures relate only to telephone systems, and do not
include any details regarding the great manufacturing
establishments engaged in the construction of
telephone apparatus, of which there is a production
amounting to at least $15,000,000 per annum.

Leaving the telephone, let us now turn our attention
to the telegraph, and endeavor to show as best we can
some idea of the measure to which it has been affected
by Edison's inventions. Although, as we have seen
in a previous part of this book, his earliest fame arose
from his great practical work in telegraphic inventions
and improvements, there is no way in which any
definite computation can be made of the value of his
contributions in the art except, perhaps, in the case
of his quadruplex, through which alone it is estimated
that there has been saved from $15,000,000 to $20,000,000
in the cost of line construction in this country.
If this were the only thing that he had ever accomplished,
it would entitle him to consideration as an
inventor of note. The quadruplex, however, has
other material advantages, but how far they and the
natural growth of the business have contributed to
the investment and earnings of the telegraph companies,
is beyond practicable computation.

It would, perhaps, be interesting to speculate upon
what might have been the growth of the telegraph
and the resultant benefit to the community had
Edison's automatic telegraph inventions been allowed
to take their legitimate place in the art, but we shall
not allow ourselves to indulge in flights of fancy, as
the value of this chapter rests not upon conjecture,
but only upon actual fact. Nor shall we attempt
to offer any statistics regarding Edison's numerous
inventions relating to telegraphs and kindred devices,
such as stock tickers, relays, magnets, rheotomes,
repeaters, printing telegraphs, messenger calls, etc.,
on which he was so busily occupied as an inventor
and manufacturer during the ten years that
began with January, 1869. The principles of many
of these devices are still used in the arts, but have
become so incorporated in other devices as to be
inseparable, and cannot now be dealt with
separately. To show what they mean, however, it
might be noted that New York City alone has 3000
stock "tickers," consuming 50,000 miles of record
tape every year.

Turning now to other important arts and industries
which have been created by Edison's inventions, and
in which he is at this time taking an active personal
interest, let us visit Orange, New Jersey. When his
present laboratory was nearing completion in 1887, he
wrote to Mr. J. Hood Wright, a partner in the firm of
Drexel, Morgan & Co.: "My ambition is to build up a
great industrial works in the Orange Valley, starting
in a small way and gradually working up."

In this plant, which represents an investment
approximating the sum of $4,000,000, are grouped a
number of industrial enterprises of which Edison is
either the sole or controlling owner and the guiding
spirit. These enterprises are the National Phonograph
Company, the Edison Business Phonograph
Company, the Edison Phonograph Works, the Edison
Manufacturing Company, the Edison Storage Battery
Company, and the Bates Manufacturing Company.
The importance of these industries will be apparent
when it is stated that at this plant the maximum
pay-roll shows the employment of over 4200
persons, with annual earnings in salaries and wages
of more than $2,750,000.

In considering the phonograph in its commercial
aspect, and endeavoring to arrive at some idea of the
world's estimate of the value of this invention, we
feel the ground more firm under our feet, for Edison
has in later years controlled its manufacture and sale.
It will be remembered that the phonograph lay dormant,
commercially speaking, for about ten years
after it came into being, and then later invention reduced
it to a device capable of more popular utility.
A few years of rather unsatisfactory commercial
experience brought about a reorganization, through
which Edison resumed possession of the business. It
has since been continued under his general direction
and ownership, and he has made a great many additional
inventions tending to improve the machine
in all its parts.

The uses made of the phonograph up to this time
have been of four kinds, generally speaking--first,
and principally, for amusement; second, for instruction
in languages; third, for business, in the dictation
of correspondence; and fourth, for sentimental reasons
in preserving the voices of friends. No separate
figures are available to show the extent of its
employment in the second and fourth classes, as they
are probably included in machines coming under the
first subdivision. Under this head we find that there
have been upward of 1,310,000 phonographs sold
during the last twenty years, with and for which there
have been made and sold no fewer than 97,845,000
records of a musical or other character. Phonographic
records are now being manufactured at
Orange at the rate of 75,000 a day, the annual sale
of phonographs and records being approximately
$7,000,000, including business phonographs. This
does not include blank records, of which large numbers
have also been supplied to the public.

The adoption of the business phonograph has not
been characterized by the unanimity that obtained
in the case of the one used merely for amusement, as
its use involves some changes in methods that business
men are slow to adopt until they realize the resulting
convenience and economy. Although it is
only a few years since the business phonograph has
begun to make some headway, it is not difficult to
appreciate that Edison's prediction in 1878 as to the
value of such an appliance is being realized, when
we find that up to this time the sales run up to 12,695
in number. At the present time the annual sales of
the business phonographs and supplies, cylinders, etc.,
are not less than $350,000.

We must not forget that the basic patent of Edison
on the phonograph has long since expired, thus throwing
open to the world the wonderful art of reproducing
human speech and other sounds. The world was
not slow to take advantage of the fact, hence there
are in the field numerous other concerns in the same
business. It is conservatively estimated by those
who know the trade and are in position to form
an opinion, that the figures above given represent
only about one-half of the entire business of the
country in phonographs, records, cylinders, and
supplies.

Taking next his inventions that pertain to a more
recently established but rapidly expanding branch
of business that provides for the amusement of the
public, popularly known as "motion pictures," we
also find a general recognition of value created. Referring
the reader to a previous chapter for a discussion
of Edison's standing as a pioneer inventor in
this art, let us glance at the commercial proportions
of this young but lusty business, whose ramifications
extend to all but the most remote and primitive hamlets
of our country.

The manufacture of the projecting machines and
accessories, together with the reproduction of films,
is carried on at the Orange Valley plant, and from the
inception of the motion-picture business to the present
time there have been made upward of 16,000
projecting machines and many million feet of films
carrying small photographs of moving objects. Although
the motion-picture business, as a commercial
enterprise, is still in its youth, it is of sufficient
moment to call for the annual production of thousands
of machines and many million feet of films in Edison's
shops, having a sale value of not less than $750,000.
To produce the originals from which these Edison
films are made, there have been established two
"studios," the largest of which is in the Bronx, New
York City.

In this, as well as in the phonograph business, there
are many other manufacturers in the field. Indeed,
the annual product of the Edison Manufacturing
Company in this line is only a fractional part of the
total that is absorbed by the 8000 or more motion-
picture theatres and exhibitions that are in operation
in the United States at the present time,
and which represent an investment of some $45,000,000.
Licensees under Edison patents in this
country alone produce upward of 60,000,000 feet of
films annually, containing more than a billion and
a half separate photographs. To what extent the
motion-picture business may grow in the not remote
future it is impossible to conjecture, for it has taken
a place in the front rank of rapidly increasing enterprises.

The manufacture and sale of the Edison-Lalande
primary battery, conducted by the Edison Manufacturing
Company at the Orange Valley plant, is a
business of no mean importance. Beginning about
twenty years ago with a battery that, without polarizing,
would furnish large currents specially adapted
for gas-engine ignition and other important purposes,
the business has steadily grown in magnitude until
the present output amounts to about 125,000 cells
annually; the total number of cells put into the
hands of the public up to date being approximately
1,500,000. It will be readily conceded that to most
men this alone would be an enterprise of a lifetime,
and sufficient in itself to satisfy a moderate ambition.
But, although it has yielded a considerable profit to
Edison and gives employment to many people, it is
only one of the many smaller enterprises that owe
an existence to his inventive ability and commercial
activity.

So it also is in regard to the mimeograph, whose
forerunner, the electric pen, was born of Edison's
brain in 1877. He had been long impressed by the
desirability of the rapid production of copies of written
documents, and, as we have seen by a previous
chapter, he invented the electric pen for this purpose,
only to improve upon it later with a more desirable
device which he called the mimeograph, that is in
use, in various forms, at this time. Although the
electric pen had a large sale and use in its time, the
statistics relating to it are not available. The mimeo-
graph, however, is, and has been for many years, a
standard office appliance, and is entitled to consideration,
as the total number put into use up to this
time is approximately 180,000, valued at $3,500,000,
while the annual output is in the neighborhood of
9000 machines, sold for about $150,000, besides the
vast quantity of special paper and supplies which its
use entails in the production of the many millions of
facsimile letters and documents. The extent of production
and sale of supplies for the mimeograph may
be appreciated when it is stated that they bring
annually an equivalent of three times the amount
realized from sales of machines. The manufacture
and sale of the mimeograph does not come within the
enterprises conducted under Edison's personal direction,
as he sold out the whole thing some years ago
to Mr. A. B. Dick, of Chicago.

In making a somewhat radical change of subject,
from duplicating machines to cement, we find ourselves
in a field in which Edison has made a most
decided impression. The reader has already learned
that his entry into this field was, in a manner,
accidental, although logically in line with pronounced
convictions of many years' standing, and following up
the fund of knowledge gained in the magnetic ore-milling
business. From being a new-comer in the cement
business, his corporation in five years has grown to be
the fifth largest producer in the United States, with
a still increasing capacity. From the inception of
this business there has been a steady and rapid
development, resulting in the production of a grand
total of over 7,300,000 barrels of cement up to the
present date, having a value of about $6,000,000,
exclusive of package. At the time of this writing,
the rate of production is over 8000 barrels of cement
per day, or, say, 2,500,000 barrels per year, having an
approximate selling value of a little less than $2,000,000,
with prospects of increasing in the near future
to a daily output of 10,000 barrels. This enterprise
is carried on by a corporation called the Edison
Portland Cement Company, in which he is very largely
interested, and of which he is the active head and
guiding spirit.

Had not Edison suspended the manufacture and
sale of his storage battery a few years ago because
he was not satisfied with it, there might have been
given here some noteworthy figures of an extensive
business, for the company's books show an astonishing
number of orders that were received during the time
of the shut-down. He was implored for batteries,
but in spite of the fact that good results had been
obtained from the 18,000 or 20,000 cells sold some
years ago, he adhered firmly to his determination to
perfect them to a still higher standard before resuming
and continuing their manufacture as a regular
commodity. As we have noted in a previous chapter,
however, deliveries of the perfected type were
begun in the summer of 1909, and since that time the
business has continued to grow in the measure indicated
by the earlier experience.

Thus far we have concerned ourselves chiefly with
those figures which exhibit the extent of investment
and production, but there is another and humanly
important side that presents itself for consideration
namely, the employment of a vast industrial army of
men and women, who earn a living through their
connection with some of the arts and industries to
which our narrative has direct reference. To this the
reader's attention will now be drawn.

The following figures are based upon the Special
Reports of the Census Bureau, 1902 and 1907, with
additions computed upon the increase that has subsequently
taken place. In the totals following is included
the compensation paid to salaried officials and
clerks. Details relating to telegraph systems are
omitted.

Taking the electric light into consideration first,
we find that in the central stations of the United
States there are not less than an average of 50,000
persons employed, requiring an aggregate yearly pay-
roll of over $40,000,000. This does not include the
100,000 or more isolated electric-light plants scattered
throughout the land. Many of these are quite large,
and at least one-third of them require one additional
helper, thus adding, say, 33,000 employees to the
number already mentioned. If we assume as low
a wage as $10 per week for each of these helpers, we
must add to the foregoing an additional sum of over
$17,000,000 paid annually for wages, almost entirely
in the isolated incandescent electric lighting field.

Central stations and isolated plants consume over
100,000,000 incandescent electric lamps annually, and
in the production of these there are engaged about
forty factories, on whose pay-rolls appear an average
of 14,000 employees, earning an aggregate yearly sum
of $8,000,000.

Following the incandescent lamp we must not forget
an industry exclusively arising from it and absolutely
dependent upon it--namely, that of making
fixtures for such lamps, the manufacture of which
gives employment to upward of 6000 persons, who
annually receive at least $3,750,000 in compensation.

The detail devices of the incandescent electric lighting
system also contribute a large quota to the country's
wealth in the millions of dollars paid out in
salaries and wages to many thousands of persons who
are engaged in their manufacture.

The electric railways of our country show even
larger figures than the lighting stations and plants,
as they employ on the average over 250,000 persons,
whose annual compensation amounts to not less than
$155,000,000.

In the manufacture of about $50,000,000 worth of
dynamos and motors annually, for central-station
equipment, isolated plants, electric railways, and
other purposes, the manufacturers of the country
employ an average of not less than 30,000 people,
whose yearly pay-roll amounts to no less a sum than
$20,000,000,

The growth of the telephone systems of the United
States also furnishes us with statistics of an analogous
nature, for we find that the average number of employees
engaged in this industry is at least 140,000,
whose annual earnings aggregate a minimum of
$75,000,000; besides which the manufacturers of
telephone apparatus employ over 12,000 persons, to
whom is paid annually about $5,500,000.

No attempt is made to include figures of collateral
industries, such, for instance, as copper, which is
very closely allied with the electrical arts, and the
great bulk of which is refined electrically.

The 8000 or so motion-picture theatres of the
country employ no fewer than 40,000 people, whose
aggregate annual income amounts to not less than
$37,000,000.

Coming now to the Orange Valley plant, we take a
drop from these figures to the comparatively modest
ones which give us an average of 3600 employees
and calling for an annual pay-roll of about $2,250,000.
It must be remembered, however, that the sums
mentioned above represent industries operated by
great aggregations of capital, while the Orange Valley
plant, as well as the Edison Portland Cement Company,
with an average daily number of 530 employees
and over $400,000 annual pay-roll, represent in a
large measure industries that are more in the nature
of closely held enterprises and practically under the
direction of one mind.

The table herewith given summarizes the figures
that have just been presented, and affords an idea of
the totals affected by the genius of this one man. It
is well known that many other men and many other
inventions have been needed for the perfection of
these arts; but it is equally true that, as already
noted, some of these industries are directly the creation
of Edison, while in every one of the rest his impress
has been deep and significant. Before he began
inventing, only two of them were known at all
as arts--telegraphy and the manufacture of cement.
Moreover, these figures deal only with the United
States, and take no account of the development of
many of the Edison inventions in Europe or of their
adoption throughout the world at large. Let it suffice


STATISTICAL RESUME (APPROXIMATE) OF SOME OF THE INDUSTRIES
IN THE UNITED STATES DIRECTLY FOUNDED UPON OR
AFFECTED BY INVENTIONS OF THOMAS A. EDISON

                                            Annual
                                          Gross Rev-     Number     Annual
Class of Industry           Investment     enue or      of Em-     Pay-Rolls
                                            sales
Central station lighting
 and power              $1,000,000,000    $125,000,000   50,000   $40,000,000
Isolated incandescent
 lighting                  500,000,000         --        33,000    17,000 000
Incandescent lamps          25,000,000      20,000,000   14,000     8,000 000
Electric fixtures            8,000,000       5,000,000    6,000     3,750,000
Dynamos and motors          60,000,000      50,000,000   30,000    20,000,000
Electric railways        4,000,000,000     430,000,000  250,000   155,000,000
Telephone systems          800,000,000     175,000,000  140,000    75,000,000
Telephone apparatus         30,000,000      15,000,000   12,000     5,500,000
Phonograph and motion 
 pictures                   10,000,000      15,000,000    5,000     6,000,000
Motion picture theatres     40,000,000      80,000,000   40,000    37,000,000
Edison Portland cement       4,000,000       2,000,000      530       400,000
Telegraphy                 250,000,000      60,000,000   100,000   30,000,000
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Totals                   6,727,000,000   1,077,000,000   680,530  397,650,000


that in America alone the work of Edison has been
one of the most potent factors in bringing into existence
new industries now capitalized at nearly $ 7,000,000,000,
earning annually over $1,000,000,000, and
giving employment to an army of more than six
hundred thousand people.

A single diamond, prismatically flashing from its
many facets the beauties of reflected light, comes
well within the limits of comprehension of the human
mind and appeals to appreciation by the finer sensibilities;
but in viewing an exhibition of thousands
of these beautiful gems, the eye and brain are simply
bewildered with the richness of a display which tends
to confuse the intellect until the function of analysis
comes into play and leads to more adequate apprehension.

So, in presenting the mass of statistics contained in
this chapter, we fear that the result may have been
the bewilderment of the reader to some extent.
Nevertheless, in writing a biography of Edison, the
main object is to present the facts as they are, and
leave it to the intelligent reader to classify, apply,
and analyze them in such manner as appeals most
forcibly to his intellectual processes. If in the
foregoing pages there has appeared to be a tendency to
attribute to Edison the entire credit for the growth
to which many of the above-named great enterprises
have in these latter days attained, we must especially
disclaim any intention of giving rise to such a
deduction. No one who has carefully followed the
course of this narrative can deny, however, that
Edison is the father of some of the arts and industries
that have been mentioned, and that as to some of the
others it was the magic of his touch that helped make
them practicable. Not only to his work and ingenuity
is due the present magnitude of these arts and industries,
but it is attributable also to the splendid work
and numerous contributions of other great inventors,
such as Brush, Bell, Elihu Thomson, Weston, Sprague,
and many others, as well as to the financiers and
investors who in the past thirty years have furnished
the vast sums of money that were necessary to exploit
and push forward these enterprises.

The reader may have noticed in a perusal of this
chapter the lack of autobiographical quotations, such
as have appeared in other parts of this narrative.
Edison's modesty has allowed us but one remark on
the subject. This was made by him to one of the
writers a short time ago, when, after an interesting
indulgence in reminiscences of old times and early
inventions, he leaned back in his chair, and with
a broad smile on his face, said, reflectively: "Say,
I HAVE been mixed up in a whole lot of things,
haven't I?"



CHAPTER XXVIII

THE BLACK FLAG

THROUGHOUT the forty-odd years of his creative
life, Edison has realized by costly experience
the truth of the cynical proverb that "A patent
is merely a title to a lawsuit." It is not intended,
however, by this statement to lead to any inference
on the part of the reader that HE stands peculiarly
alone in any such experience, for it has been and
still is the common lot of every successful inventor,
sooner or later.

To attribute dishonesty or cupidity as the root of
the defence in all patent litigation would be aiming
very wide of the mark, for in no class of suits that
come before the courts are there any that present a
greater variety of complex, finely shaded questions,
or that require more delicacy of interpretation, than
those that involve the construction of patents, particularly
those relating to electrical devices. Indeed,
a careful study of legal procedure of this character
could not be carried far without discovery of the fact
that in numerous instances the differences of opinion
between litigants were marked by the utmost bona
fides.

On the other hand, such study would reveal many
cases of undoubted fraudulent intent, as well as many
bold attempts to deprive the inventor of the fruits
of his endeavors by those who have sought to evade,
through subtle technicalities of the law, the penalty
justly due them for trickery, evasion, or open contempt
of the rights of others.

In the history of science and of the arts to which
the world has owed its continued progress from year
to year there is disclosed one remarkable fact, and that
is, that whenever any important discovery or invention
has been made and announced by one man, it has
almost always been disclosed later that other men
--possibly widely separated and knowing nothing of
the other's work--have been following up the same
general lines of investigation, independently, with the
same object in mind. Their respective methods might
be dissimilar while tending to the same end, but it
does not necessarily follow that any one of these
other experimenters might ever have achieved the result
aimed at, although, after the proclamation of
success by one, it is easy to believe that each of the
other independent investigators might readily persuade
himself that he would ultimately have reached
the goal in just that same way.

This peculiar coincidence of simultaneous but
separate work not only comes to light on the bringing
out of great and important discoveries or inventions,
but becomes more apparent if a new art is disclosed,
for then the imagination of previous experimenters
is stimulated through wide dissemination of the tidings,
sometimes resulting in more or less effort to
enter the newly opened field with devices or methods
that resemble closely the original and fundamental
ones in principle and application. In this and other
ways there arises constantly in the United States
Patent Office a large number of contested cases,
called "Interferences," where applications for patents
covering the invention of a similar device have been
independently filed by two or even more persons.
In such cases only one patent can be issued, and that
to the inventor who on the taking of testimony shows
priority in date of invention.[20]


[20] A most remarkable instance of contemporaneous invention
and without a parallel in the annals of the United States Patent
Office, occurred when, on the same day, February 15, 1876, two
separate descriptions were filed in that office, one a complete
application and the other a caveat, but each covering an invention
for "transmitting vocal sounds telegraphically." The application
was made by Alexander Graham Bell, of Salem, Massachusetts,
and the caveat by Elisha Gray, of Chicago, Illinois. On
examination of the two papers it was found that both of them
covered practically the same ground, hence, as only one patent
could be granted, it became necessary to ascertain the precise
hour at which the documents were respectively filed, and put the
parties in interference. This was done, with the result that the
patent was ultimately awarded to Bell.



In the opening up and development of any new art
based upon a fundamental discovery or invention,
there ensues naturally an era of supplemental or
collateral inventive activity--the legitimate outcome
of the basic original ideas. Part of this development
may be due to the inventive skill and knowledge of
the original inventor and his associates, who, by reason
of prior investigation, would be in better position
to follow up the art in its earliest details than others,
who might be regarded as mere outsiders. Thus a
new enterprise may be presented before the world
by its promoters in the belief that they are strongly
fortified by patent rights which will protect them in
a degree commensurate with the risks they have
assumed.

Supplemental inventions, however, in any art, new
or old, are not limited to those which emanate from
the original workers, for the ingenuity of man, influenced
by the spirit of the times, seizes upon any
novel line of action and seeks to improve or enlarge
upon it, or, at any rate, to produce more or less variation
of its phases. Consequently, there is a constant
endeavor on the part of a countless host of men possessing
some degree of technical skill and inventive
ability, to win fame and money by entering into
the already opened fields of endeavor with devices
and methods of their own, for which subsidiary
patents may be obtainable. Some of such patents
may prove to be valuable, while it is quite certain
that in the natural order of things others will be
commercially worthless, but none may be entirely
disregarded in the history and development of the
art.

It will be quite obvious, therefore, that the advent
of any useful invention or discovery, great or small,
is followed by a clashing of many interests which become
complex in their interpretation by reason of
the many conflicting claims that cluster around the
main principle. Nor is the confusion less confounded
through efforts made on the part of dishonest persons,
who, like vultures, follow closely on the trail
of successful inventors and (sometimes through
information derived by underhand methods) obtain
patents on alleged inventions, closely approximating
the real ones, solely for the purpose of harassing the
original patentee until they are bought up, or else,
with the intent of competing boldly in the new business,
trust in the delays of legal proceedings to obtain
a sure foothold in their questionable enterprise.

Then again there are still others who, having no
patent rights, but waving aside all compunction and
in downright fraud, simply enter the commercial field
against the whole world, using ruthlessly whatever
inventive skill and knowledge the original patentee
may have disclosed, and trusting to the power of
money, rapid movement, and mendacious advertising
to build up a business which shall presently assume
such formidable proportions as to force a compromise,
or stave off an injunction until the patent
has expired. In nine cases out of ten such a course
can be followed with relative impunity; and guided
by skilful experts who may suggest really trivial
changes here and there over the patented structure,
and with the aid of keen and able counsel, hardly a
patent exists that could not be invaded by such infringers.
Such is the condition of our laws and practice
that the patentee in seeking to enforce his rights
labors under a terrible handicap.

And, finally, in this recital of perplexing conditions
confronting the inventor, there must not be forgotten
the commercial "shark," whose predatory instincts
are ever keenly alert for tender victims. In the wake
of every newly developed art of world-wide importance
there is sure to follow a number of unscrupulous
adventurers, who hasten to take advantage of general
public ignorance of the true inwardness of affairs.
Basing their operations on this lack of knowledge,
and upon the tendency of human nature to give
credence to widely advertised and high-sounding descriptions
and specious promises of vast profits, these
men find little difficulty in conjuring money out of
the pockets of the unsophisticated and gullible, who
rush to become stockholders in concerns that have
"airy nothings" for a foundation, and that collapse
quickly when the bubble is pricked.[21]


[21] A notable instance of the fleecing of unsuspecting and credulous
persons occurred in the early eighties, during the furor
occasioned by the introduction of Mr. Edison's electric-light system.
A corporation claiming to have a self-generating dynamo
(practically perpetual motion) advertised its preposterous claims
extensively, and actually succeeded in selling a large amount of
stock, which, of course, proved to be absolutely worthless.



To one who is unacquainted with the trying circumstances
attending the introduction and marketing of
patented devices, it might seem unnecessary that an
inventor and his business associates should be obliged
to take into account the unlawful or ostensible competition
of pirates or schemers, who, in the absence
of legal decision, may run a free course for a long
time. Nevertheless, as public patronage is the element
vitally requisite for commercial success, and as
the public is not usually in full possession of all the
facts and therefore cannot discriminate between the
genuine and the false, the legitimate inventor must
avail himself of every possible means of proclaiming
and asserting his rights if he desires to derive any
benefit from the results of his skill and labor. Not
only must he be prepared to fight in the Patent
Office and pursue a regular course of patent litigation
against those who may honestly deem themselves to
be protected by other inventions or patents of similar
character, and also proceed against more palpable
infringers who are openly, defiantly, and illegitimately
engaged in competitive business operations,
but he must, as well, endeavor to protect himself
against the assaults of impudent fraud by educating
the public mind to a point of intelligent apprehension
of the true status of his invention and the conflicting
claims involved.

When the nature of a patent right is considered it
is difficult to see why this should be so. The inventor
creates a new thing--an invention of utility--and the
people, represented by the Federal Government, say
to him in effect: "Disclose your invention to us in a
patent so that we may know how to practice it, and
we will agree to give you a monopoly for seventeen
years, after which we shall be free to use it. If the
right thus granted is invaded, apply to a Federal
Court and the infringer will be enjoined and required
to settle in damages." Fair and false promise! Is
it generally realized that no matter how flagrant the
infringement nor how barefaced and impudent the
infringer, no Federal Court will grant an injunction
UNTIL THE PATENT SHALL HAVE BEEN FIRST LITIGATED TO FINAL
HEARING AND SUSTAINED? A procedure, it may be
stated, requiring years of time and thousands of
dollars, during which other infringers have generally
entered the field, and all have grown fat.

Thus Edison and his business associates have been
forced into a veritable maelstrom of litigation during
the major part of the last forty years, in the effort
to procure for themselves a small measure of protec-
tion for their interests under the numerous inventions
of note that he has made at various times in that
period. The earlier years of his inventive activity,
while productive of many important contributions
to electrical industries, such as stock tickers and
printers, duplex, quadruplex, and automatic telegraphs,
were not marked by the turmoil of interminable
legal conflicts that arose after the beginning of
the telephone and electric-light epochs. In fact, his
inventions; up to and including his telephone
improvements (which entered into already existing arts),
had been mostly purchased by the Western Union
and other companies, and while there was more or
less contesting of his claims (especially in respect of
the telephone), the extent of such litigation was not
so conspicuously great as that which centred
subsequently around his patents covering incandescent
electric lighting and power systems.

Through these inventions there came into being
an entirely new art, complete in its practicability
evolved by Edison after protracted experiments founded
upon most patient, thorough, and original methods
of investigation extending over several years. Long
before attaining the goal, he had realized with
characteristic insight the underlying principles of the
great and comprehensive problem he had started out to
solve, and plodded steadily along the path that he had
marked out, ignoring the almost universal scientific
disbelief in his ultimate success. "Dreamer," "fool,"
"boaster" were among the appellations bestowed
upon him by unbelieving critics. Ridicule was heaped
upon him in the public prints, and mathematics were
called into service by learned men to settle the point
forever that he was attempting the utterly impossible.

But, presto! no sooner had he accomplished the
task and shown concrete results to the world than
he found himself in the anomalous position of being
at once surrounded by the conditions which inevitably
confront every inventor. The path through the
trackless forest had been blazed, and now every one
could find the way. At the end of the road was a
rich prize belonging rightfully to the man who had
opened a way to it, but the struggles of others to
reach it by more or less honest methods now began
and continued for many years. If, as a former
commissioner once said, "Edison was the man who kept
the path to the Patent Office hot with his footsteps,"
there were other great inventors abreast or immediately
on his heels, some, to be sure, with legitimate,
original methods and vital improvements representing
independent work; while there were also those
who did not trouble to invent, but simply helped
themselves to whatever ideas were available, and
coming from any source.

Possibly events might have happened differently
had Edison been able to prevent the announcement
of his electric-light inventions until he was entirely
prepared to bring out the system as a whole, ready
for commercial exploitation, but the news of his
production of a practical and successful incandescent
lamp became known and spread like wild-fire to all
corners of the globe. It took more than a year after
the evolution of the lamp for Edison to get into position
to do actual business, and during that time his
laboratory was the natural Mecca of every inquiring
person. Small wonder, then, that when he was prepared
to market his invention he should find others
entering that market, at home and abroad, at the
same time, and with substantially similar merchandise.

Edison narrates two incidents that may be taken
as characteristic of a good deal that had to be contended
with, coming in the shape of nefarious attack.
"In the early days of my electric light," he says,
"curiosity and interest brought a great many people
to Menlo Park to see it. Some of them did not come
with the best of intentions. I remember the visit of
one expert, a well-known electrician, a graduate of
Johns Hopkins University, and who then represented
a Baltimore gas company. We had the lamps exhibited
in a large room, and so arranged on a table
as to illustrate the regular layout of circuits for
houses and streets. Sixty of the men employed at
the laboratory were used as watchers, each to keep
an eye on a certain section of the exhibit, and see
there was no monkeying with it. This man had a
length of insulated No. 10 wire passing through his
sleeves and around his back, so that his hands would
conceal the ends and no one would know he had it.
His idea, of course, was to put this wire across the
ends of the supplying circuits, and short-circuit the
whole thing--put it all out of business without being
detected. Then he could report how easily the electric
light went out, and a false impression would be conveyed
to the public. He did not know that we had
already worked out the safety-fuse, and that every
group of lights was thus protected independently.
He put this jumper slyly in contact with the wires--
and just four lamps went out on the section he tampered
with. The watchers saw him do it, however,
and got hold of him and just led him out of the place
with language that made the recording angels jump
for their typewriters."

The other incident is as follows: "Soon after I had
got out the incandescent light I had an interference
in the Patent Office with a man from Wisconsin. He
filed an application for a patent and entered into a
conspiracy to `swear back' of the date of my invention,
so as to deprive me of it. Detectives were put
on the case, and we found he was a `faker,' and we
took means to break the thing up. Eugene Lewis, of
Eaton & Lewis, had this in hand for me. Several years
later this same man attempted to defraud a leading
firm of manufacturing chemists in New York, and was
sent to State prison. A short time after that a syndicate
took up a man named Goebel and tried to do
the same thing, but again our detective-work was
too much for them. This was along the same line as
the attempt of Drawbaugh to deprive Bell of his
telephone. Whenever an invention of large prospective
value comes out, these cases always occur.
The lamp patent was sustained in the New York
Federal Court. I thought that was final and would
end the matter, but another Federal judge out in
St. Louis did not sustain it. The result is I have
never enjoyed any benefits from my lamp patents,
although I fought for many years." The Goebel
case will be referred to later in this chapter.

The original owner of the patents and inventions
covering his electric-lighting system, the Edison
Electric Light Company (in which Edison was largely
interested as a stockholder), thus found at the outset
that its commercial position was imperilled by the
activity of competitors who had sprung up like
mushrooms. It became necessary to take proper
preliminary legal steps to protect the interests which
had been acquired at the cost of so much money and
such incessant toil and experiment. During the first
few years in which the business of the introduction
of the light was carried on with such strenuous and
concentrated effort, the attention of Edison and his
original associates was constantly focused upon the
commercial exploitation and the further development
of the system at home and abroad. The difficult
and perplexing situation at that time is thus
described by Major S. B. Eaton:

"The reason for the delay in beginning and pushing
suits for infringements of the lamp patent has
never been generally understood. In my official position
as president of the Edison Electric Light Company
I became the target, along with Mr. Edison, for
censure from the stockholders and others on account
of this delay, and I well remember how deep the feeling
was. In view of the facts that a final injunction
on the lamp patent was not obtained until the life
of the patent was near its end, and, next, that no
damages in money were ever paid by the guilty infringers,
it has been generally believed that Mr. Edison
sacrificed the interest of his stockholders selfishly
when he delayed the prosecution of patent suits and
gave all his time and energies to manufacturing.
This belief was the stronger because the manufacturing
enterprises belonged personally to Mr. Edison
and not to his company. But the facts render it
easy to dispel this false belief. The Edison inventions
were not only a lamp; they comprised also an entire
system of central stations. Such a thing was new to
the world, and the apparatus, as well as the manufacture
thereof, was equally new. Boilers, engines,
dynamos, motors, distribution mains, meters, house-
wiring, safety-devices, lamps, and lamp-fixtures--all
were vital parts of the whole system. Most of them
were utterly novel and unknown to the arts, and all
of them required quick, and, I may say, revolutionary
thought and invention. The firm of Babcock & Wilcox
gave aid on the boilers, Armington & Sims undertook
the engines, but everything else was abnormal.
No factories in the land would take up the manufacture.
I remember, for instance, our interviews
with Messrs. Mitchell, Vance & Co., the leading
manufacturers of house gas-lighting fixtures, such as
brackets and chandeliers. They had no faith in electric
lighting, and rejected all our overtures to induce
them to take up the new business of making electric-
light fixtures. As regards other parts of the Edison
system, notably the Edison dynamo, no such machines
had ever existed; there was no factory in the
world equipped to make them, and, most discouraging
of all, the very scientific principles of their
construction were still vague and experimental.

"What was to be done? Mr. Edison has never
been greater than when he met and solved this crisis.
`If there are no factories,' he said, `to make my
inventions, I will build the factories myself. Since
capital is timid, I will raise and supply it. The issue
is factories or death.' Mr. Edison invited the co-
operation of his leading stockholders. They lacked
confidence or did not care to increase their
investments. He was forced to go on alone. The chain
of Edison shops was then created. By far the most
perplexing of these new manufacturing problems was
the lamp. Not only was it a new industry, one without
shadow of prototype, but the mechanical devices
for making the lamps, and to some extent the very
machines to make those devices, were to be invented.
All of this was done by the courage, capital, and
invincible energy and genius of the great inventor.
But Mr. Edison could not create these great and
diverse industries and at the same time give requisite
attention to litigation. He could not start and develop
the new and hard business of electric lighting
and yet spare one hour to pursue infringers. One
thing or the other must wait. All agreed that it must
be the litigation. And right there a lasting blow was
given to the prestige of the Edison patents. The delay
was translated as meaning lack of confidence;
and the alert infringer grew strong in courage and
capital. Moreover, and what was the heaviest blow
of all, he had time, thus unmolested, to get a good
start.

"In looking back on those days and scrutinizing
them through the years, I am impressed by the greatness,
the solitary greatness I may say, of Mr. Edison.
We all felt then that we were of importance, and that
our contribution of effort and zeal were vital. I can
see now, however, that the best of us was nothing but
the fly on the wheel. Suppose anything had happened
to Edison? All would have been chaos and ruin..
To him, therefore, be the glory, if not the profit."

The foregoing remarks of Major Eaton show authoritatively
how the much-discussed delay in litigating
the Edison patents was so greatly misunderstood at
the time, and also how imperatively necessary it was
for Edison and his associates to devote their entire
time and energies to the commercial development of
the art. As the lighting business increased, however,
and a great number of additional men were
initiated into its mysteries, Edison and his experts
were able to spare some time to legal matters, and
an era of active patent litigation against infringers
was opened about the year 1885 by the Edison company,
and thereafter continued for many years.

While the history of this vast array of legal proceedings
possesses a fascinating interest for those involved,
as well as for professional men, legal and scientific,
it could not be expected that it would excite any
such feeling on the part of a casual reader. Hence,
it is not proposed to encumber this narrative with
any detailed record of the numerous suits that were
brought and conducted through their complicated
ramifications by eminent counsel. Suffice it to say
that within about sixteen years after the commencement
of active patent litigation, there had been spent
by the owners of the Edison lighting patents upward
of two million dollars in prosecuting more than two
hundred lawsuits brought against persons who were
infringing many of the patents of Edison on the
incandescent electric lamp and component parts of his
system. Over fifty separate patents were involved
in these suits, including the basic one on the lamp
(ordinarily called the "Filament" patent), other detail
lamp patents, as well as those on sockets, switches,
dynamos, motors, and distributing systems.

The principal, or "test," suit on the "Filament"
patent was that brought against "The United States
Electric Lighting Company," which became a cause
celebre in the annals of American jurisprudence.
Edison's claims were strenuously and stubbornly contested
throughout a series of intense legal conflicts
that raged in the courts for a great many years. Both
sides of the controversy were represented by legal
talent of the highest order, under whose examination
and cross-examination volumes of testimony were
taken, until the printed record (including exhibits)
amounted to more than six thousand pages. Scientific
and technical literature and records in all parts of
the civilized world were subjected to the most minute
scrutiny of opposing experts in the endeavor to prove
Edison to be merely an adapter of methods and devices
already projected or suggested by others. The
world was ransacked for anything that might be
claimed as an anticipation of what he had done.
Every conceivable phase of ingenuity that could be
devised by technical experts was exercised in the
attempt to show that Edison had accomplished nothing
new. Everything that legal acumen could suggest--
every subtle technicality of the law--all the
complicated variations of phraseology that the novel
nomenclature of a young art would allow--all were
pressed into service and availed of by the contestors
of the Edison invention in their desperate effort to
defeat his claims. It was all in vain, however, for
the decision of the court was in favor of Edison, and
his lamp patent was sustained not only by the
tribunal of the first resort, but also by the Appellate
Court some time afterward.

The first trial was had before Judge Wallace in the
United States Circuit Court for the Southern District
of New York, and the appeal was heard by Judges
Lacombe and Shipman, of the United States Circuit
Court of Appeals. Before both tribunals the cause
had been fully represented by counsel chosen from
among the most eminent representatives of the bar
at that time, those representing the Edison interests
being the late Clarence A. Seward and Grosvenor P.
Lowrey, together with Sherburne Blake Eaton,
Albert H. Walker, and Richard N. Dyer. The presentation
of the case to the courts had in both instances
been marked by masterly and able arguments, elucidated
by experiments and demonstrations to educate
the judges on technical points. Some appreciation
of the magnitude of this case may be gained from the
fact that the argument on its first trial employed a
great many days, and the minutes covered hundreds
of pages of closely typewritten matter, while the
argument on appeal required eight days, and was set
forth in eight hundred and fifty pages of typewriting.
Eliminating all purely forensic eloquence and exparte
statements, the addresses of counsel in this celebrated
suit are worthy of deep study by an earnest
student, for, taken together, they comprise the most
concise, authentic, and complete history of the prior
state of the art and the development of the incandescent
lamp that had been made up to that time.[22]


[22] The argument on appeal was conducted with the dignity and
decorum that characterize such a proceeding in that court.
There is usually little that savors of humor in the ordinary conduct
of a case of this kind, but in the present instance a pertinent
story was related by Mr. Lowrey, and it is now reproduced. In
the course of his address to the court, Mr. Lowrey said:


"I have to mention the name of one expert whose testimony
will, I believe, be found as accurate, as sincere, as straightforward
as if it were the preaching of the gospel. I do it with great pleasure,
and I ask you to read the testimony of Charles L. Clarke
along with that of Thomas A. Edison. He had rather a hard row
to hoe. He is a young gentleman; he is a very well-instructed
man in his profession; he is not what I have called in the argument
below an expert in the art of testifying, like some of the
others, he has not yet become expert; what he may descend to
later cannot be known; he entered upon his first experience, I
think, with my brother Duncan, who is no trifler when he comes
to deal with these questions, and for several months Mr. Clarke
was pursued up and down, over a range of suggestions of what he
would have thought if he had thought something else had been
said at some time when something else was not said."

Mr. Duncan--"I got three pages a day out of him, too."

Mr. Lowrey--"Well, it was a good result. It always recalled
to me what I venture now, since my friend breaks in upon me in
this rude manner, to tell the court as well illustrative of what
happened there. It is the story of the pickerel and the roach.
My friend, Professor Von Reisenberg, of the University of Ghent,
pursued a series of investigations into the capacity of various
animals to receive ideas. Among the rest he put a pickerel into
a tank containing water, and separated across its middle by a
transparent glass plate, and on the other side he put a red roach.
Now your Honors both know how a pickerel loves a red roach,
and I have no doubt you will remember that he is a fish of a very
low forehead and an unlimited appetite. When this pickerel saw
the red roach through the glass, he made one of those awful dashes
which is usually the ruin of whatever stands in its-way; but he
didn't reach the red roach. He received an impression, doubtless.
It was not sufficient, however, to discourage him, and he
immediately tried again, and he continued to try for three-
quarters of an hour. At the end of three-quarters of an hour he
seemed a little shaken and discouraged, and stopped, and the
red roach was taken out for that day and the pickerel left. On
the succeeding day the red roach was restored, and the pickerel
had forgotten the impressions of the first day, and he repeated
this again. At the end of the second day the roach was taken
out. This was continued, not through so long a period as the
effort to take my friend Clarke and devour him, but for a period
of about three weeks. At the end of the three weeks, the time
during which the pickerel persisted each day had been shortened
and shortened, until it was at last discovered that he didn't try
at all. The plate glass was then removed, and the pickerel and
the red roach sailed around together in perfect peace ever afterward.
The pickerel doubtless attributed to the roach all this
shaking, the rebuff which he had received. And that is about
the condition in which my brother Duncan and my friend Clarke
were at the end of this examination."

Mr. Duncan--"I notice on the redirect that Mr. Clarke changed
his color."

Mr. Lowrey--"Well, perhaps he was a different kind of a
roach then; but you didn't succeed in taking him.

"I beg your Honors to read the testimony of Mr. Clarke in the
light of the anecdote of the pickerel and the roach."



Owing to long-protracted delays incident to the
taking of testimony and preparation for trial, the
argument before the United States Circuit Court of
Appeals was not had until the late spring of 1892,
and its decision in favor of the Edison Lamp patent
was filed on October 4, 1892, MORE THAN TWELVE YEARS
AFTER THE ISSUANCE OF THE PATENT ITSELF.

As the term of the patent had been limited under
the law, because certain foreign patents had been
issued to Edison before that in this country, there
was now but a short time left for enjoyment of
the exclusive rights contemplated by the statute and
granted to Edison and his assigns by the terms of
the patent itself. A vigorous and aggressive legal
campaign was therefore inaugurated by the Edison
Electric Light Company against the numerous infringing
companies and individuals that had sprung
up while the main suit was pending. Old suits were
revived and new ones instituted. Injunctions were
obtained against many old offenders, and it seemed
as though the Edison interests were about to come
into their own for the brief unexpired term of the
fundamental patent, when a new bombshell was
dropped into the Edison camp in the shape of an
alleged anticipation of the invention forty years
previously by one Henry Goebel. Thus, in 1893,
the litigation was reopened, and a protracted series
of stubbornly contested conflicts was fought in the
courts.

Goebel's claims were not unknown to the Edison
Company, for as far back as 1882 they had been
officially brought to its notice coupled with an offer
of sale for a few thousand dollars. A very brief
examination into their merits, however, sufficed to
demonstrate most emphatically that Goebel had never
made a practical incandescent lamp, nor had he ever
contributed a single idea or device bearing, remotely
or directly, on the development of the art. Edison
and his company, therefore, rejected the offer unconditionally
and declined to enter into any arrangements
whatever with Goebel. During the prosecution
of the suits in 1893 it transpired that the Goebel
claims had also been investigated by the counsel of
the defendant company in the principal litigation already
related, but although every conceivable defence
and anticipation had been dragged into the case
during the many years of its progress, the alleged
Goebel anticipation was not even touched upon therein.
From this fact it is quite apparent that they placed
no credence on its bona fides.

But desperate cases call for desperate remedies.
Some of the infringing lamp-manufacturing concerns,
which during the long litigation had grown strong
and lusty, and thus far had not been enjoined by the
court, now saw injunctions staring them in the face,
and in desperation set up the Goebel so-called
anticipation as a defence in the suits brought against
them.

This German watchmaker, Goebel, located in the
East Side of New York City, had undoubtedly been
interested, in a desultory kind of way, in simple
physical phenomena, and a few trifling experiments
made by him some forty or forty-five years previously
were magnified and distorted into brilliant and all-
comprehensive discoveries and inventions. Avalanches
of affidavits of himself, "his sisters and his
cousins and his aunts," practically all persons in
ordinary walks of life, and of old friends, contributed
a host of recollections that seemed little short of
miraculous in their detailed accounts of events of a
scientific nature that were said to have occurred so
many years before. According to affidavits of Goebel
himself and some of his family, nothing that would
anticipate Edison's claim had been omitted from his
work, for he (Goebel) claimed to have employed the
all-glass globe, into which were sealed platinum wires
carrying a tenuous carbon filament, from which the
occluded gases had been liberated during the process
of high exhaustion. He had even determined upon
bamboo as the best material for filaments. On the
face of it he was seemingly gifted with more than
human prescience, for in at least one of his exhibit
lamps, said to have been made twenty years previously,
he claimed to have employed processes which Edison
and his associates had only developed by several
years of experience in making thousands of lamps!

The Goebel story was told by the affidavits in an
ingenuous manner, with a wealth of simple homely
detail that carried on its face an appearance of truth
calculated to deceive the elect, had not the elect been
somewhat prepared by their investigation made some
eleven years before.

The story was met by the Edison interests with
counter-affidavits, showing its utter improbabilities
and absurdities from the standpoint of men of science
and others versed in the history and practice of the
art; also affidavits of other acquaintances and neighbors
of Goebel flatly denying the exhibitions he
claimed to have made. The issue thus being joined,
the legal battle raged over different sections of the
country. A number of contumeliously defiant infringers
in various cities based fond hopes of immunity
upon the success of this Goebel evidence, but
were defeated. The attitude of the courts is well
represented in the opinion of Judge Colt, rendered in
a motion for injunction against the Beacon Vacuum
Pump and Electrical Company. The defence alleged
the Goebel anticipation, in support of which it offered
in evidence four lamps, Nos. 1, 2, and 3 purporting
to have been made before 1854, and No. 4 before
1872. After a very full review of the facts in the
case, and a fair consideration of the defendants'
affidavits, Judge Colt in his opinion goes on to say:


"It is extremely improbable that Henry Goebel constructed
a practical incandescent lamp in 1854. This is
manifest from the history of the art for the past fifty
years, the electrical laws which since that time have been
discovered as applicable to the incandescent lamp, the
imperfect means which then existed for obtaining a
vacuum, the high degree of skill necessary in the construction
of all its parts, and the crude instruments with
which Goebel worked.

"Whether Goebel made the fiddle-bow lamps, 1, 2,
and 3, is not necessary to determine. The weight of
evidence on this motion is in the direction that he made
these lamp or lamps similar in general appearance, though
it is manifest that few, if any, of the many witnesses who
saw the Goebel lamp could form an accurate judgment of
the size of the filament or burner. But assuming they
were made, they do not anticipate the invention of Edison.
At most they were experimental toys used to advertise
his telescope, or to flash a light upon his clock,
or to attract customers to his shop. They were crudely
constructed, and their life was brief. They could not
be used for domestic purposes. They were in no proper
sense the practical commercial lamp of Edison. The
literature of the art is full of better lamps, all of which
are held not to anticipate the Edison patent.

"As for Lamp No. 4, I cannot but view it with
suspicion. It presents a new appearance. The reason
given for not introducing it before the hearing is
unsatisfactory. This lamp, to my mind, envelops with a cloud
of distrust the whole Goebel story. It is simply
impossible under the circumstances to believe that a lamp
so constructed could have been made by Goebel before
1872. Nothing in the evidence warrants such a sup-
position, and other things show it to be untrue. This
lamp has a carbon filament, platinum leading-in wires, a
good vacuum, and is well sealed and highly finished. It
is said that this lamp shows no traces of mercury in the
bulb because the mercury was distilled, but Goebel says
nothing about distilled mercury in his first affidavit, and
twice he speaks of the particles of mercury clinging to
the inside of the chamber, and for that reason he
constructed a Geissler pump after he moved to 468 Grand
Street, which was in 1877. Again, if this lamp has been
in his possession since before 1872, as he and his son swear,
why was it not shown to Mr. Crosby, of the American
Company, when he visited his shop in 1881 and was
much interested in his lamps? Why was it not shown
to Mr. Curtis, the leading counsel for the defendants in
the New York cases, when he was asked to produce a
lamp and promised to do so? Why did not his son take
this lamp to Mr. Bull's office in 1892, when he took the
old fiddle-bow lamps, 1, 2, and 3? Why did not his son
take this lamp to Mr. Eaton's office in 1882, when he tried
to negotiate the sale of his father's inventions to the
Edison Company? A lamp so constructed and made before 
1872 was worth a large sum of money to those interested
in defeating the Edison patent like the American
Company, and Goebel was not a rich man. Both he and
one of his sons were employed in 1881 by the American
Company. Why did he not show this lamp to McMahon
when he called in the interest of the American Company
and talked over the electrical matters? When Mr.
Dreyer tried to organize a company in 1882, and procured
an option from him of all his inventions relating
to electric lighting for which $925 was paid, and when
an old lamp of this kind was of vital consequence and
would have insured a fortune, why was it not
forthcoming? Mr. Dreyer asked Goebel to produce an old
lamp, and was especially anxious to find one pending
his negotiations with the Edison Company for the sale
of Goebel's inventions. Why did he not produce this
lamp in his interviews with Bohm, of the American Company,
or Moses, of the Edison Company, when it was for
his interest to do so? The value of such an anticipation
of the Edison lamp was made known to him. He was
desirous of realizing upon his inventions. He was proud
of his incandescent lamps, and was pleased to talk about
them with anybody who would listen. Is it conceivable
under all these circumstances, that he should have had
this all-important lamp in his possession from 1872 to
1893, and yet no one have heard of it or seen it except
his son? It cannot be said that ignorance of the English
language offers an excuse. He knew English very well
although Bohm and Dreyer conversed with him in German.
His children spoke English. Neither his ignorance
nor his simplicity prevented him from taking out
three patents: the first in 1865 for a sewing-machine
hemmer, and the last in 1882 for an improvement in
incandescent lamps. If he made Lamp No. 4 previous to
1872, why was it not also patented?

"There are other circumstances which throw doubt
on this alleged Goebel anticipation. The suit against the
United States Electric Lighting Company was brought
in the Southern District of New York in 1885. Large
interests were at stake, and the main defence to the
Edison patent was based on prior inventions. This
Goebel claim was then investigated by the leading counsel
for the defence, Mr. Curtis. It was further inquired into
in 1892, in the case against the Sawyer-Man Company.
It was brought to the attention and considered by the
Edison Company in 1882. It was at that time known to
the American Company, who hoped by this means to
defeat the monopoly under the Edison patent. Dreyer
tried to organize a company for its purchase. Young
Goebel tried to sell it. It must have been known to
hundreds of people. And now when the Edison Company
after years of litigation, leaving but a short time for the
patent to run, have obtained a final adjudication establishing
its validity, this claim is again resurrected to defeat
the operation of the judgment so obtained. A court
in equity should not look with favor on such a defence.
Upon the evidence here presented, I agree with the first
impression of Mr. Curtis and with the opinion of Mr.
Dickerson that whatever Goebel did must be considered
as an abandoned experiment.

"It has often been laid down that a meritorious invention
is not to be defeated by something which rests
in speculation or experiment, or which is rudimentary or
incomplete.

"The law requires not conjecture, but certainty. It
is easy after an important invention has gone into public
use for persons to come forward with claims that they
invented the same thing years before, and to endeavor
to establish this by the recollection of witnesses as to
events long past. Such evidence is to be received with
great caution, and the presumption of novelty arising
from the grant of the patent is not to be overcome except
upon clear and convincing proof.

"When the defendant company entered upon the
manufacture of incandescent lamps in May, 1891, it well
knew the consequences which must follow a favorable
decision for the Edison Company in the New York case."


The injunction was granted.

Other courts took practically the same view of the
Goebel story as was taken by Judge Colt, and the
injunctions asked in behalf of the Edison interests
were granted on all applications except one in St.
Louis, Missouri, in proceedings instituted against a
strong local concern of that city.

Thus, at the eleventh hour in the life of this important
patent, after a long period of costly litigation,
Edison and his associates were compelled to assume
the defensive against a claimant whose utterly baseless
pretensions had already been thoroughly investigated
and rejected years before by every interested
party, and ultimately, on examination by the
courts, pronounced legally untenable, if not indeed
actually fraudulent. Irritating as it was to be forced
into the position of combating a proposition so well
known to be preposterous and insincere, there was
nothing else to do but to fight this fabrication with
all the strenuous and deadly earnestness that would
have been brought to bear on a really meritorious
defence. Not only did this Goebel episode divert
for a long time the energies of the Edison interests
from activities in other directions, but the cost of
overcoming the extravagantly absurd claims ran up
into hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Another quotation from Major Eaton is of interest
in this connection:

"Now a word about the Goebel case. I took personal
charge of running down this man and his pretensions
in the section of the city where he lived and
among his old neighbors. They were a typical East
Side lot--ignorant, generally stupid, incapable of
long memory, but ready to oblige a neighbor and to
turn an easy dollar by putting a cross-mark at the
bottom of a forthcoming friendly affidavit. I can
say in all truth and justice that their testimony
was utterly false, and that the lawyers who took it
must have known it.

"The Goebel case emphasizes two defects in the
court procedure in patent cases. One is that they
may be spun out almost interminably, even, possibly,
to the end of the life of the patent; the other is that
the judge who decides the case does not see the witnesses.
That adverse decision at St. Louis would
never have been made if the court could have seen
the men who swore for Goebel. When I met Mr. F.
P. Fish on his return from St. Louis, after he had
argued the Edison side, he felt keenly that disadvantage,
to say nothing of the hopeless difficulty of educating
the court."

In the earliest days of the art, when it was apparent
that incandescent lighting had come to stay, the
Edison Company was a shining mark at which the
shafts of the dishonest were aimed. Many there were
who stood ready to furnish affidavits that they or
some one else whom they controlled had really invented
the lamp, but would obligingly withdraw and
leave Edison in possession of the field on payment of
money. Investigation of these cases, however, revealed
invariably the purely fraudulent nature of all
such offers, which were uniformly declined.

As the incandescent light began to advance rapidly
in public favor, the immense proportions of the future
market became sufficiently obvious to tempt
unauthorized persons to enter the field and become
manufacturers. When the lamp became a thoroughly
established article it was not a difficult matter to
copy it, especially when there were employees to be
hired away at increased pay, and their knowledge
utilized by the more unscrupulous of these new
competitors. This is not conjecture but known to be a
fact, and the practice continued many years, during
which new lamp companies sprang up on every side.
Hence, it is not surprising that, on the whole, the
Edison lamp litigation was not less remarkable for
quantity than quality. Between eighty and ninety
separate suits upon Edison's fundamental lamp and
detail patents were brought in the courts of the
United States and prosecuted to completion.

In passing it may be mentioned that in England
France, and Germany also the Edison fundamental
lamp patent was stubbornly fought in the judicial
arena, and his claim to be the first inventor of
practical incandescent lighting was uniformly sustained
in all those countries.

Infringement was not, however, confined to the
lamp alone, but, in America, extended all along the
line of Edison's patents relating to the production
and distribution of electric light, including those on
dynamos, motors, distributing systems, sockets,
switches, and other details which he had from time
to time invented. Consequently, in order to protect
its interests at all points, the Edison Company had
found it necessary to pursue a vigorous policy of
instituting legal proceedings against the infringers of
these various patents, and, in addition to the large
number of suits on the lamp alone, not less than one
hundred and twenty-five other separate actions,
involving some fifty or more of Edison's principal
electric-lighting patents, were brought against concerns
which were wrongfully appropriating his ideas
and actively competing with his companies in the
market.

The ramifications of this litigation became so
extensive and complex as to render it necessary to
institute a special bureau, or department, through
which the immense detail could be systematically
sifted, analyzed, and arranged in collaboration with
the numerous experts and counsel responsible for the
conduct of the various cases. This department was
organized in 1889 by Major Eaton, who was at this
time and for some years afterward its general counsel.

In the selection of the head of this department a
man of methodical and analytical habit of mind was
necessary, capable of clear reasoning, and at the same
time one who had gained a thoroughly practical
experience in electric light and power fields, and the
choice fell upon Mr. W. J. Jenks, the manager of the
Edison central station at Brockton, Massachusetts.
He had resigned that position in 1885, and had spent
the intervening period in exploiting the Edison
municipal system of lighting, as well as taking an
active part in various other branches of the Edison
enterprises.

Thus, throughout the life of Edison's patents on
electric light, power, and distribution, the interminable
legal strife has continued from day to day, from
year to year. Other inventors, some of them great
and notable, have been coming into the field since
the foundation of the art, patents have multiplied
exceedingly, improvement has succeeded improvement,
great companies have grown greater, new concerns
have come into existence, coalitions and mergers
have taken place, all tending to produce changes in
methods, but not much in diminution of patent
litigation. While Edison has not for a long time
past interested himself particularly in electric light
and power inventions, the bureau which was initiated
under the old regime in 1889 still continues, enlarged
in scope, directed by its original chief, but now conducted
under the auspices of several allied companies
whose great volumes of combined patents (including
those of Edison) cover a very wide range of the
electrical field.

As the general conception and theory of a lawsuit
is the recovery of some material benefit, the lay mind
is apt to conceive of great sums of money being
awarded to a complainant by way of damages upon
a favorable decision in an important patent case. It
might, therefore, be natural to ask how far Edison
or his companies have benefited pecuniarily by reason
of the many belated victories they have scored
in the courts. To this question a strict regard for
truth compels the answer that they have not been
benefited at all, not to the extent of a single dollar,
so far as cash damages are concerned.

It is not to be denied, however, that substantial
advantages have accrued to them more or less directly
through the numerous favorable decisions obtained
by them as a result of the enormous amount
of litigation, in the prosecution of which so great a
sum of money has been spent and so concentrated an
amount of effort and time lavished. Indeed, it would
be strange and unaccountable were the results otherwise.
While the benefits derived were not directly
pecuniary in their nature, they were such as tended
to strengthen commercially the position of the rightful
owners of the patents. Many irresponsible and
purely piratical concerns were closed altogether;
others were compelled to take out royalty licenses;
consolidations of large interests were brought about;
the public was gradually educated to a more correct
view of the true merits of conflicting claims, and,
generally speaking, the business has been greatly
unified and brought within well-defined and controllable
lines.

Not only in relation to his electric light and power
inventions has the progress of Edison and his associates
been attended by legal controversy all through
the years of their exploitation, but also in respect to
other inventions, notably those relating to the phonograph
and to motion pictures.

The increasing endeavors of infringers to divert into
their own pockets some of the proceeds arising from
the marketing of the devices covered by Edison's inventions
on these latter lines, necessitated the institution
by him, some years ago, of a legal department which,
as in the case of the light inventions, was designed to
consolidate all law and expert work and place it under
the management of a general counsel. The department
is of considerable extent, including a number of
resident and other associate counsel, and a general
office staff, all of whom are constantly engaged from
day to day in patent litigation and other legal work
necessary to protect the Edison interests. Through
their labors the old story is reiterated in the contesting
of approximate but conflicting claims, the never-
ending effort to suppress infringement, and the
destruction as far as possible of the commercial pirates
who set sail upon the seas of all successful enterprises.
The details, circumstances, and technical
questions are, of course, different from those relating
to other classes of inventions, and although there has
been no cause celebre concerning the phonograph and
motion-picture patents, the contention is as sharp and
strenuous as it was in the cases relating to electric
lighting and heavy current technics.

Mr. Edison's storage battery and the poured cement
house have not yet reached the stage of great commercial
enterprises, and therefore have not yet risen
to the dignity of patent litigation. If, however, the
experience of past years is any criterion, there will
probably come a time in the future when, despite
present widely expressed incredulity and contemptuous
sniffs of unbelief in the practicability of his ideas
in these directions, ultimate success will give rise to
a series of hotly contested legal conflicts such as have
signalized the practical outcome of his past efforts
in other lines.

When it is considered what Edison has done, what
the sum and substance of his contributions to human
comfort and happiness have been, the results, as
measured by legal success, have been pitiable. With
the exception of the favorable decision on the incandescent
lamp filament patent, coming so late, however,
that but little practical good was accomplished,
the reader may search the law-books in vain for a
single decision squarely and fairly sustaining a single
patent of first order. There never was a monopoly in
incandescent electric lighting, and even from the
earliest days competitors and infringers were in the
field reaping the benefits, and though defeated in the
end, paying not a cent of tribute. The market was
practically as free and open as if no patent existed.
There never was a monopoly in the phonograph;
practically all of the vital inventions were deliberately
appropriated by others, and the inventor was
laughed at for his pains. Even so beautiful a process
as that for the duplication of phonograph records was
solemnly held by a Federal judge as lacking invention
--as being obvious to any one. The mere fact
that Edison spent years of his life in developing that
process counted for nothing.

The invention of the three-wire system, which, when
it was first announced as saving over 60 per cent. of
copper in the circuits, was regarded as an utter
impossibility--this patent was likewise held by a Federal
judge to be lacking in invention. In the motion-
picture art, infringements began with its very
birth, and before the inevitable litigation could be
terminated no less than ten competitors were in the
field, with whom compromises had to be made.

In a foreign country, Edison would have undoubtedly
received signal honors; in his own country he
has won the respect and admiration of millions; but
in his chosen field as an inventor and as a patentee
his reward has been empty. The courts abroad have
considered his patents in a liberal spirit and given him
his due; the decisions in this country have fallen wide
of the mark. We make no criticism of our Federal
judges; as a body they are fair, able, and hard-
working; but they operate under a system of procedure
that stifles absolutely the development of inventive
genius.

Until that system is changed and an opportunity
offered for a final, swift, and economical adjudication
of patent rights, American inventors may well hesitate
before openly disclosing their inventions to the
public, and may seriously consider the advisability
of retaining them as "trade secrets."



CHAPTER XXIX

THE SOCIAL SIDE OF EDISON

THE title of this chapter might imply that there
is an unsocial side to Edison. In a sense this is
true, for no one is more impatient or intolerant of
interruption when deeply engaged in some line of
experiment. Then the caller, no matter how important
or what his mission, is likely to realize his utter
insignificance and be sent away without accomplishing
his object. But, generally speaking, Edison is easy
tolerance itself, with a peculiar weakness toward those
who have the least right to make any demands on his
time. Man is a social animal, and that describes
Edison; but it does not describe accurately the inventor
asking to be let alone.

Edison never sought Society; but "Society" has
never ceased to seek him, and to-day, as ever, the pressure
upon him to give up his work and receive honors,
meet distinguished people, or attend public functions,
is intense. Only two or three years ago, a flattering
invitation came from one of the great English universities
to receive a degree, but at that moment he was
deep in experiments on his new storage battery, and
nothing could budge him. He would not drop the
work, and while highly appreciative of the proposed
honor, let it go by rather than quit for a week or two
the stern drudgery of probing for the fact and the
truth. Whether one approves or not, it is at least
admirable stoicism, of which the world has too little.
A similar instance is that of a visit paid to the laboratory
by some one bringing a gold medal from a foreign
society. It was a very hot day in summer, the visitor
was in full social regalia of silk hat and frock-coat, and
insisted that he could deliver the medal only into
Edison's hands. At that moment Edison, stripped
pretty nearly down to the buff, was at the very crisis
of an important experiment, and refused absolutely
to be interrupted. He had neither sought nor
expected the medal; and if the delegate didn't care to
leave it he could take it away. At last Edison was
overpersuaded, and, all dirty and perspiring as he was,
received the medal rather than cause the visitor to
come again. On one occasion, receiving a medal in
New York, Edison forgot it on the ferry-boat and left
it behind him. A few years ago, when Edison had
received the Albert medal of the Royal Society of
Arts, one of the present authors called at the laboratory
to see it. Nobody knew where it was; hours
passed before it could be found; and when at last the
accompanying letter was produced, it had an office
date stamp right over the signature of the royal president.
A visitor to the laboratory with one of these
medallic awards asked Edison if he had any others.
"Oh yes," he said, "I have a couple of quarts more
up at the house!" All this sounds like lack of
appreciation, but it is anything else than that. While in
Paris, in 1889, he wore the decoration of the Legion of
Honor whenever occasion required, but at all other
times turned the badge under his lapel "because he
hated to have fellow-Americans think he was showing
off." And any one who knows Edison will bear testimony
to his utter absence of ostentation. It may be
added that, in addition to the two quarts of medals
up at the house, there will be found at Glenmont
many other signal tokens of esteem and good-will--a
beautiful cigar-case from the late Tsar of Russia,
bronzes from the Government of Japan, steel trophies
from Krupp, and a host of other mementos, to one of
which he thus refers: "When the experiments with
the light were going on at Menlo Park, Sarah
Bernhardt came to America. One evening, Robert L.
Cutting, of New York, brought her out to see the light.
She was a terrific `rubberneck.' She jumped all over
the machinery, and I had one man especially to guard
her dress. She wanted to know everything. She
would speak in French, and Cutting would translate
into English. She stayed there about an hour and a
half. Bernhardt gave me two pictures, painted by
herself, which she sent me from Paris."

Reference has already been made to the callers upon
Edison; and to give simply the names of persons of
distinction would fill many pages of this record. Some
were mere consumers of time; others were gladly
welcomed, like Lord Kelvin, the greatest physicist of
the last century, with whom Edison was always in
friendly communication. "The first time I saw Lord
Kelvin, he came to my laboratory at Menlo Park in
1876." (He reported most favorably on Edison's
automatic telegraph system at the Philadelphia
Exposition of 1876.) "I was then experimenting with
sending eight messages simultaneously over a wire by
means of synchronizing tuning-forks. I would take a
wire with similar apparatus at both ends, and would
throw it over on one set of instruments, take it away,
and get it back so quickly that you would not miss it,
thereby taking advantage of the rapidity of electricity
to perform operations. On my local wire I got it to
work very nicely. When Sir William Thomson (Kelvin)
came in the room, he was introduced to me, and
had a number of friends with him. He said: `What
have you here?' I told him briefly what it was. He
then turned around, and to my great surprise explained
the whole thing to his friends. Quite a different
exhibition was given two weeks later by another
well-known Englishman, also an electrician, who came
in with his friends, and I was trying for two hours to
explain it to him and failed."

After the introduction of the electric light, Edison
was more than ever in demand socially, but he shunned
functions like the plague, not only because of the
serious interference with work, but because of his deafness.
Some dinners he had to attend, but a man who
ate little and heard less could derive practically no
pleasure from them. "George Washington Childs was
very anxious I should go down to Philadelphia to dine
with him. I seldom went to dinners. He insisted I
should go--that a special car would leave New York.
It was for me to meet Mr. Joseph Chamberlain. We
had the private car of Mr. Roberts, President of the
Pennsylvania Railroad. We had one of those celebrated
dinners that only Mr. Childs could give, and
I heard speeches from Charles Francis Adams and dif-
ferent people. When I came back to the depot, Mr.
Roberts was there, and insisted on carrying my satchel
for me. I never could understand that."

Among the more distinguished visitors of the electric-
lighting period was President Diaz, with whom
Edison became quite intimate. "President Diaz, of
Mexico, visited this country with Mrs. Diaz, a highly
educated and beautiful woman. She spoke very good
English. They both took a deep interest in all they
saw. I don't know how it ever came about, as it is
not in my line, but I seemed to be delegated to show
them around. I took them to railroad buildings,
electric-light plants, fire departments, and showed
them a great variety of things. It lasted two days."
Of another visit Edison says: "Sitting Bull and fifteen
Sioux Indians came to Washington to see the
Great Father, and then to New York, and went to the
Goerck Street works. We could make some very
good pyrotechnics there, so we determined to give the
Indians a scare. But it didn't work. We had an arc
there of a most terrifying character, but they never
moved a muscle." Another episode at Goerck Street
did not find the visitors quite so stoical. "In testing
dynamos at Goerck Street we had a long flat belt running
parallel with the floor, about four inches above
it, and travelling four thousand feet a minute. One
day one of the directors brought in three or four ladies
to the works to see the new electric-light system. One
of the ladies had a little poodle led by a string. The
belt was running so smoothly and evenly, the poodle
did not notice the difference between it and the floor,
and got into the belt before we could do anything.
The dog was whirled around forty or fifty times, and
a little flat piece of leather came out--and the ladies
fainted."

A very interesting period, on the social side, was the
visit paid by Edison and his family to Europe in 1889,
when he had made a splendid exhibit of his inventions
and apparatus at the great Paris Centennial Exposition
of that year, to the extreme delight of the French,
who welcomed him with open arms. The political
sentiments that the Exposition celebrated were not
such as to find general sympathy in monarchical
Europe, so that the "crowned heads" were conspicuous
by their absence. It was not, of course, by
way of theatrical antithesis that Edison appeared in
Paris at such a time. But the contrast was none the
less striking and effective. It was felt that, after all,
that which the great exposition exemplified at its best
--the triumph of genius over matter, over ignorance,
over superstition--met with its due recognition when
Edison came to participate, and to felicitate a noble
nation that could show so much in the victories of
civilization and the arts, despite its long trials and
its long struggle for liberty. It is no exaggeration to
say that Edison was greeted with the enthusiastic
homage of the whole French people. They could find
no praise warm enough for the man who had "organized
the echoes" and "tamed the lightning," and
whose career was so picturesque with eventful and
romantic development. In fact, for weeks together
it seemed as though no Parisian paper was considered
complete and up to date without an article on Edison.
The exuberant wit and fancy of the feuilletonists
seized upon his various inventions evolving from
them others of the most extraordinary nature with
which to bedazzle and bewilder the reader. At the
close of the Exposition Edison was created a Commander
of the Legion of Honor. His own exhibit,
made at a personal expense of over $100,000, covered
several thousand square feet in the vast Machinery
Hall, and was centred around a huge Edison lamp
built of myriads of smaller lamps of the ordinary size.
The great attraction, however, was the display of
the perfected phonograph. Several instruments were
provided, and every day, all day long, while the Exposition
lasted, queues of eager visitors from every
quarter of the globe were waiting to hear the little
machine talk and sing and reproduce their own voices.
Never before was such a collection of the languages
of the world made. It was the first linguistic
concourse since Babel times. We must let Edison tell
the story of some of his experiences:

"At the Universal Exposition at Paris, in 1889, I
made a personal exhibit covering about an acre. As
I had no intention of offering to sell anything I was
showing, and was pushing no companies, the whole
exhibition was made for honor, and without any hope
of profit. But the Paris newspapers came around and
wanted pay for notices of it, which we promptly refused;
whereupon there was rather a stormy time for
a while, but nothing was published about it.

"While at the Exposition I visited the Opera-House.
The President of France lent me his private box. The
Opera-House was one of the first to be lighted by
the incandescent lamp, and the managers took great
pleasure in showing me down through the labyrinth
containing the wiring, dynamos, etc. When I came
into the box, the orchestra played the `Star-Spangled
Banner,' and all the people in the house arose; whereupon
I was very much embarrassed. After I had been
an hour at the play, the manager came around and
asked me to go underneath the stage, as they were
putting on a ballet of 300 girls, the finest ballet in
Europe. It seems there is a little hole on the stage
with a hood over it, in which the prompter sits when
opera is given. In this instance it was not occupied,
and I was given the position in the prompter's seat,
and saw the whole ballet at close range.

"The city of Paris gave me a dinner at the new
Hotel de Ville, which was also lighted with the Edison
system. They had a very fine installation of machinery.
As I could not understand or speak a word
of French, I went to see our minister, Mr. Whitelaw
Reid, and got him to send a deputy to answer for me,
which he did, with my grateful thanks. Then the
telephone company gave me a dinner, and the engineers
of France; and I attended the dinner celebrating
the fiftieth anniversary of the discovery of photography.
Then they sent to Reid my decoration, and
they tried to put a sash on me, but I could not stand
for that. My wife had me wear the little red button,
but when I saw Americans coming I would slip it out
of my lapel, as I thought they would jolly me for wearing
it."

Nor was this all. Edison naturally met many of
the celebrities of France: "I visited the Eiffel Tower
at the invitation of Eiffel. We went to the top, where
there was an extension and a small place in which
was Eiffel's private office. In this was a piano.
When my wife and I arrived at the top, we found that
Gounod, the composer, was there. We stayed a
couple of hours, and Gounod sang and played for us.
We spent a day at Meudon, an old palace given by the
government to Jansen, the astronomer. He occupied
three rooms, and there were 300. He had the grand
dining-room for his laboratory. He showed me a
gyroscope he had got up which made the incredible
number of 4000 revolutions in a second. A modification
of this was afterward used on the French Atlantic
lines for making an artificial horizon to take
observations for position at sea. In connection with
this a gentleman came to me a number of years afterward,
and I got out a part of some plans for him. He
wanted to make a gigantic gyroscope weighing several
tons, to be run by an electric motor and put on a sailing
ship. He wanted this gyroscope to keep a platform
perfectly horizontal, no matter how rough the sea was.
Upon this platform he was going to mount a telescope
to observe an eclipse off the Gold Coast of Africa. But
for some reason it was never completed.

"Pasteur invited me to come down to the Institute,
and I went and had quite a chat with him. I saw
a large number of persons being inoculated, and also
the whole modus operandi, which was very interesting.
I saw one beautiful boy about ten, the son of
an English lord. His father was with him. He had
been bitten in the face, and was taking the treatment.
I said to Pasteur, `Will he live?' `No,' said he, `the
boy will be dead in six days. He was bitten too
near the top of the spinal column, and came too
late!' "

Edison has no opinion to offer as an expert on art,
but has his own standard of taste: "Of course I
visited the Louvre and saw the Old Masters, which I
could not enjoy. And I attended the Luxembourg,
with modern masters, which I enjoyed greatly. To
my mind, the Old Masters are not art, and I suspect
that many others are of the same opinion; and that
their value is in their scarcity and in the variety of
men with lots of money." Somewhat akin to this is
a shrewd comment on one feature of the Exposition:
"I spent several days in the Exposition at Paris. I
remember going to the exhibit of the Kimberley diamond
mines, and they kindly permitted me to take
diamonds from some of the blue earth which they
were washing by machinery to exhibit the mine operations.
I found several beautiful diamonds, but they
seemed a little light weight to me when I was picking
them out. They were diamonds for exhibition purposes
--probably glass."

This did not altogether complete the European trip
of 1889, for Edison wished to see Helmholtz. "After
leaving Paris we went to Berlin. The French papers
then came out and attacked me because I went to
Germany; and said I was now going over to the enemy.
I visited all the things of interest in Berlin; and then
on my way home I went with Helmholtz and Siemens
in a private compartment to the meeting of the German
Association of Science at Heidelberg, and spent
two days there. When I started from Berlin on the
trip, I began to tell American stories. Siemens was
very fond of these stories and would laugh immensely
at them, and could see the points and the humor, by
his imagination; but Helmholtz could not see one of
them. Siemens would quickly, in German, explain
the point, but Helmholtz could not see it, although he
understood English, which Siemens could speak. Still
the explanations were made in German. I always
wished I could have understood Siemens's explanations
of the points of those stories. At Heidelberg, my
assistant, Mr. Wangemann, an accomplished German-
American, showed the phonograph before the Association."

Then came the trip from the Continent to England,
of which this will certainly pass as a graphic picture:
"When I crossed over to England I had heard a good
deal about the terrors of the English Channel as regards
seasickness. I had been over the ocean three
times and did not know what seasickness was, so far
as I was concerned myself. I was told that while a
man might not get seasick on the ocean, if he met a
good storm on the Channel it would do for him.
When we arrived at Calais to cross over, everybody
made for the restaurant. I did not care about eating,
and did not go to the restaurant, but my family did.
I walked out and tried to find the boat. Going along
the dock I saw two small smokestacks sticking up,
and looking down saw a little boat. `Where is the
steamer that goes across the Channel?' `This is the
boat.' There had been a storm in the North Sea that
had carried away some of the boats on the German
steamer, and it certainly looked awful tough outside.
I said to the man: `Will that boat live in that sea?'
`Oh yes,' he said, `but we've had a bad storm.' So I
made up my mind that perhaps I would get sick this
time. The managing director of the English railroad
owning this line was Forbes, who heard I was coming
over, and placed the private saloon at my disposal.
The moment my family got in the room with the
French lady's maid and the rest, they commenced to
get sick, so I felt pretty sure I was in for it. We
started out of the little inlet and got into the Channel,
and that boat went in seventeen directions simultaneously.
I waited awhile to see what was going to
occur, and then went into the smoking-compartment.
Nobody was there. By-and-by the fun began.
Sounds of all kinds and varieties were heard in every
direction. They were all sick. There must have
been 100 people aboard. I didn't see a single exception
except the waiters and myself. I asked one of
the waiters concerning the boat itself, and was taken
to see the engineer, and went down to look at the
engines, and saw the captain. But I kept mostly in
the smoking-room. I was smoking a big cigar, and
when a man looked in I would give a big puff, and
every time they saw that they would go away and
begin again. The English Channel is a holy terror,
all right, but it didn't affect me. I must be out of
balance."

While in Paris, Edison had met Sir John Pender,
the English "cable king," and had received an invitation
from him to make a visit to his country residence:
"Sir John Pender, the master of the cable system of
the world at that time, I met in Paris. I think he
must have lived among a lot of people who were very
solemn, because I went out riding with him in the Bois
de Boulogne and started in to tell him American
stories. Although he was a Scotchman he laughed
immoderately. He had the faculty of understanding
and quickly seeing the point of the stories; and for
three days after I could not get rid of him. Finally
I made him a promise that I would go to his country
house at Foot's Cray, near London. So I went there,
and spent two or three days telling him stories.

"While at Foot's Cray, I met some of the backers
of Ferranti, then putting up a gigantic alternating-
current dynamo near London to send ten or fifteen
thousand volts up into the main district of the city for
electric lighting. I think Pender was interested. At
any rate the people invited to dinner were very much
interested, and they questioned me as to what I
thought of the proposition. I said I hadn't any
thought about it, and could not give any opinion
until I saw it. So I was taken up to London to see
the dynamo in course of construction and the methods
employed; and they insisted I should give them some
expression of my views. While I gave them my
opinion, it was reluctantly; I did not want to do so.
I thought that commercially the thing was too ambitious,
that Ferranti's ideas were too big, just then;
that he ought to have started a little smaller until he
was sure. I understand that this installation was not
commercially successful, as there were a great many
troubles. But Ferranti had good ideas, and he was
no small man."

Incidentally it may be noted here that during the
same year (1889) the various manufacturing Edison
lighting interests in America were brought together,
under the leadership of Mr. Henry Villard, and
consolidated in the Edison General Electric Company
with a capital of no less than $12,000,000 on an eight-
per-cent.-dividend basis. The numerous Edison central
stations all over the country represented much
more than that sum, and made a splendid outlet for
the product of the factories. A few years later came
the consolidation with the Thomson-Houston interests
in the General Electric Company, which under the
brilliant and vigorous management of President C. A.
Coffin has become one of the greatest manufacturing
institutions of the country, with an output of apparatus
reaching toward $75,000,000 annually. The net result
of both financial operations was, however, to
detach Edison from the special field of invention to
which he had given so many of his most fruitful years;
and to close very definitely that chapter of his life,
leaving him free to develop other ideas and interests
as set forth in these volumes.

It might appear strange on the surface, but one of
the reasons that most influenced Edison to regrets in
connection with the "big trade" of 1889 was that it
separated him from his old friend and ally, Bergmann,
who, on selling out, saw a great future for himself in
Germany, went there, and realized it. Edison has
always had an amused admiration for Bergmann, and
his "social side" is often made evident by his love of
telling stories about those days of struggle. Some of
the stories were told for this volume. "Bergmann
came to work for me as a boy," says Edison. "He
started in on stock-quotation printers. As he was a
rapid workman and paid no attention to the clock, I
took a fancy to him, and gave him piece-work. He
contrived so many little tools to cheapen the work
that he made lots of money. I even helped him get
up tools until it occurred to me that this was too rapid
a process of getting rid of my money, as I hadn't the
heart to cut the price when it was originally fair.
After a year or so, Bergmann got enough money to
start a small shop in Wooster Street, New York, and
it was at this shop that the first phonographs were
made for sale. Then came the carbon telephone
transmitter, a large number of which were made by
Bergmann for the Western Union. Finally came the
electric light. A dynamo was installed in Bergmann's
shop to permit him to test the various small devices
which he was then making for the system. He rented
power from a Jew who owned the building. Power
was supplied from a fifty-horse-power engine to
other tenants on the several floors. Soon after the
introduction of the big dynamo machine, the landlord
appeared in the shop and insisted that Bergmann was
using more power than he was paying for, and said
that lately the belt on the engine was slipping and
squealing. Bergmann maintained that he must be
mistaken. The landlord kept going among his
tenants and finally discovered the dynamo. `Oh! Mr.
Bergmann, now I know where my power goes to,'
pointing to the dynamo. Bergmann gave him a
withering look of scorn, and said, `Come here and I
will show you.' Throwing off the belt and disconnecting
the wires, he spun the armature around by hand.
`There,' said Bergmann, `you see it's not here that
you must look for your loss.' This satisfied the landlord,
and he started off to his other tenants. He did
not know that that machine, when the wires were
connected, could stop his engine.

"Soon after, the business had grown so large that
E. H. Johnson and I went in as partners, and Bergmann
rented an immense factory building at the
corner of Avenue B and East Seventeenth Street,
New York, six stories high and covering a quarter of
a block. Here were made all the small things used on
the electric-lighting system, such as sockets, chandeliers,
switches, meters, etc. In addition, stock tickers,
telephones, telephone switchboards, and typewriters
were made the Hammond typewriters were perfected
and made there. Over 1500 men were finally
employed. This shop was very successful both
scientifically and financially. Bergmann was a man of
great executive ability and carried economy of
manufacture to the limit. Among all the men I have had
associated with me, he had the commercial instinct
most highly developed."

One need not wonder at Edison's reminiscent remark
that, "In any trade any of my `boys' made with
Bergmann he always got the best of them, no matter
what it was. One time there was to be a convention
of the managers of Edison illuminating companies at
Chicago. There were a lot of representatives from
the East, and a private car was hired. At Jersey City
a poker game was started by one of the delegates.
Bergmann was induced to enter the game. This was
played right through to Chicago without any sleep,
but the boys didn't mind that. I had gotten them
immune to it. Bergmann had won all the money, and
when the porter came in and said `Chicago,' Bergmann
jumped up and said: `What! Chicago! I thought it
was only Philadelphia!' "

But perhaps this further story is a better indication
of developed humor and shrewdness: "A man by the
name of Epstein had been in the habit of buying brass
chips and trimmings from the lathes, and in some way
Bergmann found out that he had been cheated. This
hurt his pride, and he determined to get even. One
day Epstein appeared and said: `Good-morning, Mr.
Bergmann, have you any chips to-day?' `No,' said
Bergmann, `I have none.' `That's strange, Mr.
Bergmann; won't you look?' No, he wouldn't look;
he knew he had none. Finally Epstein was so persistent
that Bergmann called an assistant and told
him to go and see if he had any chips. He returned
and said they had the largest and finest lot they ever
had. Epstein went up to several boxes piled full of
chips, and so heavy that he could not lift even one end
of a box. `Now, Mr. Bergmann,' said Epstein, `how
much for the lot?' `Epstein,' said Bergmann, `you
have cheated me, and I will no longer sell by the lot,
but will sell only by the pound.' No amount of argument
would apparently change Bergmann's determination
to sell by the pound, but finally Epstein got up
to $250 for the lot, and Bergmann, appearing as if
disgusted, accepted and made him count out the
money. Then he said: `Well, Epstein, good-bye,
I've got to go down to Wall Street.' Epstein and his
assistant then attempted to lift the boxes to carry
them out, but couldn't; and then discovered that cal-
culations as to quantity had been thrown out because
the boxes had all been screwed down to the floor and
mostly filled with boards with a veneer of brass chips.
He made such a scene that he had to be removed by
the police. I met him several days afterward and he
said he had forgiven Mr. Bergmann, as he was such a
smart business man, and the scheme was so ingenious.

"One day as a joke I filled three or four sheets of
foolscap paper with a jumble of figures and told
Bergmann they were calculations showing the great
loss of power from blowing the factory whistle.
Bergmann thought it real, and never after that would
he permit the whistle to blow."

Another glimpse of the "social side" is afforded in
the following little series of pen-pictures of the same
place and time: "I had my laboratory at the top of
the Bergmann works, after moving from Menlo Park.
The building was six stories high. My father came
there when he was eighty years of age. The old man
had powerful lungs. In fact, when I was examined
by the Mutual Life Insurance Company, in 1873, my
lung expansion was taken by the doctor, and the old
gentleman was there at the time. He said to the
doctor: `I wish you would take my lung expansion,
too.' The doctor took it, and his surprise was very
great, as it was one of the largest on record. I think
it was five and one-half inches. There were only
three or four could beat it. Little Bergmann hadn't
much lung power. The old man said to him, one day:
`Let's run up-stairs.' Bergmann agreed and ran up.
When they got there Bergmann was all done up, but
my father never showed a sign of it. There was an
elevator there, and each day while it was travelling up
I held the stem of my Waterbury watch up against
the column in the elevator shaft and it finished the
winding by the time I got up the six stories." This
original method of reducing the amount of physical
labor involved in watch-winding brings to mind another
instance of shrewdness mentioned by Edison,
with regard to his newsboy days. Being asked whether
he did not get imposed upon with bad bank-bills, he
replied that he subscribed to a bank-note detector and
consulted it closely whenever a note of any size fell
into his hands. He was then less than fourteen
years old.

The conversations with Edison that elicited these
stories brought out some details as to peril that
attends experimentation. He has confronted many a
serious physical risk, and counts himself lucky to have
come through without a scratch or scar. Four
instances of personal danger may be noted in his own
language: "When I started at Menlo, I had an electric
furnace for welding rare metals that I did not
know about very clearly. I was in the dark-room,
where I had a lot of chloride of sulphur, a very corrosive
liquid. I did not know that it would decompose
by water. I poured in a beakerful of water, and the
whole thing exploded and threw a lot of it into my
eyes. I ran to the hydrant, leaned over backward,
opened my eyes, and ran the hydrant water right
into them. But it was two weeks before I could see.

"The next time we just saved ourselves. I was
making some stuff to squirt into filaments for the
incandescent lamp. I made about a pound of it. I
had used ammonia and bromine. I did not know it
at the time, but I had made bromide of nitrogen. I
put the large bulk of it in three filters, and after it had
been washed and all the water had come through the
filter, I opened the three filters and laid them on a hot
steam plate to dry with the stuff. While I and Mr.
Sadler, one of my assistants, were working near it,
there was a sudden flash of light, and a very smart
explosion. I said to Sadler: `What is that?' `I
don't know,' he said, and we paid no attention. In
about half a minute there was a sharp concussion,
and Sadler said: `See, it is that stuff on the steam
plate.' I grabbed the whole thing and threw it in the
sink, and poured water on it. I saved a little of it
and found it was a terrific explosive. The reason why
those little preliminary explosions took place was that
a little had spattered out on the edge of the filter paper,
and had dried first and exploded. Had the main body
exploded there would have been nothing left of the
laboratory I was working in.

"At another time, I had a briquetting machine for
briquetting iron ore. I had a lever held down by a
powerful spring, and a rod one inch in diameter and
four feet long. While I was experimenting with it,
and standing beside it, a washer broke, and that
spring threw the rod right up to the ceiling with a
blast; and it came down again just within an inch
of my nose, and went clear through a two-inch
plank. That was `within an inch of your life,' as
they say.

"In my experimental plant for concentrating iron
ore in the northern part of New Jersey, we had a verti-
cal drier, a column about nine feet square and eighty
feet high. At the bottom there was a space where
two men could go through a hole; and then all the rest
of the column was filled with baffle plates. One day
this drier got blocked, and the ore would not run
down. So I and the vice-president of the company,
Mr. Mallory, crowded through the manhole to see why
the ore would not come down. After we got in, the
ore did come down and there were fourteen tons of it
above us. The men outside knew we were in there,
and they had a great time digging us out and getting
air to us."

Such incidents brought out in narration the fact
that many of the men working with him had been less
fortunate, particularly those who had experimented
with the Roentgen X-ray, whose ravages, like those of
leprosy, were responsible for the mutilation and death
of at least one expert assistant. In the early days of
work on the incandescent lamp, also, there was
considerable trouble with mercury. "I had a series of
vacuum-pumps worked by mercury and used for exhausting
experimental incandescent lamps. The main
pipe, which was full of mercury, was about seven and
one-half feet from the floor. Along the length of the
pipe were outlets to which thick rubber tubing was
connected, each tube to a pump. One day, while
experimenting with the mercury pump, my assistant,
an awkward country lad from a farm on Staten Island,
who had adenoids in his nose and breathed through
his mouth, which was always wide open, was looking
up at this pipe, at a small leak of mercury, when the
rubber tube came off and probably two pounds of
mercury went into his mouth and down his throat,
and got through his system somehow. In a short
time he became salivated, and his teeth got loose.
He went home, and shortly his mother appeared at
the laboratory with a horsewhip, which she proposed
to use on the proprietor. I was fortunately absent,
and she was mollified somehow by my other assistants.
I had given the boy considerable iodide of potassium
to prevent salivation, but it did no good in this case.

"When the first lamp-works were started at Menlo
Park, one of my experiments seemed to show that hot
mercury gave a better vacuum in the lamp than cold
mercury. I thereupon started to heat it. Soon all
the men got salivated, and things looked serious; but
I found that in the mirror factories, where mercury
was used extensively, the French Government made
the giving of iodide of potassium compulsory to prevent
salivation. I carried out this idea, and made
every man take a dose every day, but there was great
opposition, and hot mercury was finally abandoned."

It will have been gathered that Edison has owed his
special immunity from "occupational diseases" not
only to luck but to unusual powers of endurance, and
a strong physique, inherited, no doubt, from his father.
Mr. Mallory mentions a little fact that bears on this
exceptional quality of bodily powers. "I have often
been surprised at Edison's wonderful capacity for the
instant visual perception of differences in materials
that were invisible to others until he would patiently
point them out. This had puzzled me for years, but
one day I was unexpectedly let into part of the secret.
For some little time past Mr. Edison had noticed that
he was bothered somewhat in reading print, and I
asked him to have an oculist give him reading-glasses.
He partially promised, but never took time to attend
to it. One day he and I were in the city, and as Mrs.
Edison had spoken to me about it, and as we happened
to have an hour to spare, I persuaded him to go to
an oculist with me. Using no names, I asked the latter
to examine the gentleman's eyes. He did so very
conscientiously, and it was an interesting experience,
for he was kept busy answering Mr. Edison's numerous
questions. When the oculist finished, he turned to
me and said: "I have been many years in the business,
but have never seen an optic nerve like that of
this gentleman. An ordinary optic nerve is about
the thickness of a thread, but his is like a cord. He
must be a remarkable man in some walk of life.
Who is he?"

It has certainly required great bodily vigor and
physical capacity to sustain such fatigue as Edison
has all his life imposed upon himself, to the extent on
one occasion of going five days without sleep. In a
conversation during 1909, he remarked, as though it
were nothing out of the way, that up to seven years
previously his average of daily working hours was
nineteen and one-half, but that since then he figured
it at eighteen. He said he stood it easily, because he
was interested in everything, and was reading and
studying all the time. For instance, he had gone to
bed the night before exactly at twelve and had arisen
at 4.30 A. M. to read some New York law reports. It
was suggested that the secret of it might be that he
did not live in the past, but was always looking for-
ward to a greater future, to which he replied: "Yes,
that's it. I don't live with the past; I am living for
to-day and to-morrow. I am interested in every
department of science, arts, and manufacture. I read
all the time on astronomy, chemistry, biology, physics,
music, metaphysics, mechanics, and other branches--
political economy, electricity, and, in fact, all things
that are making for progress in the world. I get all
the proceedings of the scientific societies, the principal
scientific and trade journals, and read them. I also
read The Clipper, The Police Gazette, The Billboard,
The Dramatic Mirror, and a lot of similar publications,
for I like to know what is going on. In this way I
keep up to date, and live in a great moving world of
my own, and, what's more, I enjoy every minute of it."
Referring to some event of the past, he said: "Spilt
milk doesn't interest me. I have spilt lots of it, and
while I have always felt it for a few days, it is quickly
forgotten, and I turn again to the future." During
another talk on kindred affairs it was suggested to
Edison that, as he had worked so hard all his life, it
was about time for him to think somewhat of the
pleasures of travel and the social side of life. To
which he replied laughingly: "I already have a schedule
worked out. From now until I am seventy-five
years of age, I expect to keep more or less busy with
my regular work, not, however, working as many
hours or as hard as I have in the past. At seventy
five I expect to wear loud waistcoats with fancy
buttons; also gaiter tops; at eighty I expect to learn how
to play bridge whist and talk foolishly to the ladies.
At eighty-five I expect to wear a full-dress suit every
evening at dinner, and at ninety--well, I never plan
more than thirty years ahead."

The reference to clothes is interesting, as it is one
of the few subjects in which Edison has no interest.
It rather bores him. His dress is always of the plainest;
in fact, so plain that, at the Bergmann shops in
New York, the children attending a parochial Catholic
school were wont to salute him with the finger to the
head, every time he went by. Upon inquiring, he
found that they took him for a priest, with his dark
garb, smooth-shaven face, and serious expression.
Edison says: "I get a suit that fits me; then I compel
the tailors to use that as a jig or pattern or blue-print
to make others by. For many years a suit was used
as a measurement; once or twice they took fresh
measurements, but these didn't fit and they had to
go back. I eat to keep my weight constant, hence I
need never change measurements." In regard to
this, Mr. Mallory furnishes a bit of chat as follows:
"In a lawsuit in which I was a witness, I went out to
lunch with the lawyers on both sides, and the lawyer
who had been cross-examining me stated that he had
for a client a Fifth Avenue tailor, who had told him
that he had made all of Mr. Edison's clothes for the
last twenty years, and that he had never seen him.
He said that some twenty years ago a suit was sent
to him from Orange, and measurements were made
from it, and that every suit since had been made from
these measurements. I may add, from my own personal
observation, that in Mr. Edison's clothes there is
no evidence but that every new suit that he has worn
in that time looks as if he had been specially measured
for it, which shows how very little he has changed
physically in the last twenty years."

Edison has never had any taste for amusements,
although he will indulge in the game of "Parchesi"
and has a billiard-table in his house. The coming of
the automobile was a great boon to him, because it
gave him a form of outdoor sport in which he could
indulge in a spirit of observation, without the guilty
feeling that he was wasting valuable time. In his
automobile he has made long tours, and with his
family has particularly indulged his taste for botany.
That he has had the usual experience in running
machines will be evidenced by the following little
story from Mr. Mallory: "About three years ago I
had a motor-car of a make of which Mr. Edison had
already two cars; and when the car was received I made
inquiry as to whether any repair parts were carried
by any of the various garages in Easton, Pennsylvania,
near our cement works. I learned that this particular
car was the only one in Easton. Knowing that Mr.
Edison had had an experience lasting two or three
years with this particular make of car, I determined
to ask him for information relative to repair parts; so
the next time I was at the laboratory I told him I
was unable to get any repair parts in Easton, and that
I wished to order some of the most necessary, so that,
in case of breakdowns, I would not be compelled to
lose the use of the car for several days until the parts
came from the automobile factory. I asked his advice
as to what I should order, to which he replied:
`I don't think it will be necessary to order an extra
top.' " Since that episode, which will probably be
appreciated by most automobilists, Edison has taken
up the electric automobile, and is now using it as well
as developing it. One of the cars equipped with his
battery is the Bailey, and Mr. Bee tells the following
story in regard to it: "One day Colonel Bailey, of
Amesbury, Massachusetts, who was visiting the Automobile
Show in New York, came out to the laboratory
to see Mr. Edison, as the latter had expressed a desire
to talk with him on his next visit to the metropolis.
When he arrived at the laboratory, Mr. Edison, who
had been up all night experimenting, was asleep on the
cot in the library. As a rule we never wake Mr. Edison
from sleep, but as he wanted to see Colonel Bailey, who
had to go, I felt that an exception should be made, so
I went and tapped him on the shoulder. He awoke
at once, smiling, jumped up, was instantly himself as
usual, and advanced and greeted the visitor. His
very first question was: `Well, Colonel, how did you
come out on that experiment?'--referring to some
suggestions he had made at their last meeting a year
before. For a minute Colonel Bailey did not recall
what was referred to; but a few words from Mr. Edison
brought it back to his remembrance, and he reported
that the results had justified Mr. Edison's expectations."

It might be expected that Edison would have extreme
and even radical ideas on the subject of education--and
he has, as well as a perfect readiness to
express them, because he considers that time is wasted
on things that are not essential: "What we need,"
he has said, "are men capable of doing work. I
wouldn't give a penny for the ordinary college grad-
uate, except those from the institutes of technology.
Those coming up from the ranks are a darned sight
better than the others. They aren't filled up with
Latin, philosophy, and the rest of that ninny stuff."
A further remark of his is: "What the country needs
now is the practical skilled engineer, who is capable
of doing everything. In three or four centuries, when
the country is settled, and commercialism is diminished,
there will be time for the literary men. At
present we want engineers, industrial men, good
business-like managers, and railroad men." It is
hardly to be marvelled at that such views should
elicit warm protest, summed up in the comment:
"Mr. Edison and many like him see in reverse the
course of human progress. Invention does not
smooth the way for the practical men and make them
possible. There is always too much danger of neglecting
thoughts for things, ideas for machinery. No
theory of education that aggravates this danger is
consistent with national well-being."

Edison is slow to discuss the great mysteries of life,
but is of reverential attitude of mind, and ever tolerant
of others' beliefs. He is not a religious man in the
sense of turning to forms and creeds, but, as might be
expected, is inclined as an inventor and creator to
argue from the basis of "design" and thence to infer
a designer. "After years of watching the processes
of nature," he says, "I can no more doubt the existence
of an Intelligence that is running things than I
do of the existence of myself. Take, for example, the
substance water that forms the crystals known as ice.
Now, there are hundreds of combinations that form
crystals, and every one of them, save ice, sinks in
water. Ice, I say, doesn't, and it is rather lucky for
us mortals, for if it had done so, we would all be
dead. Why? Simply because if ice sank to the bottoms
of rivers, lakes, and oceans as fast as it froze,
those places would be frozen up and there would be
no water left. That is only one example out of thousands
that to me prove beyond the possibility of a
doubt that some vast Intelligence is governing this
and other planets."

A few words as to the domestic and personal side
of Edison's life, to which many incidental references
have already been made in these pages. He was
married in 1873 to Miss Mary Stillwell, who died in
1884, leaving three children--Thomas Alva, William
Leslie, and Marion Estelle.

Mr. Edison was married again in 1886 to Miss
Mina Miller, daughter of Mr. Lewis Miller, a distinguished
pioneer inventor and manufacturer in the
field of agricultural machinery, and equally entitled
to fame as the father of the "Chautauqua idea," and
the founder with Bishop Vincent of the original Chautauqua,
which now has so many replicas all over the
country, and which started in motion one of the
great modern educational and moral forces in America.
By this marriage there are three children--Charles,
Madeline, and Theodore.

For over a score of years, dating from his marriage
to Miss Miller, Edison's happy and perfect domestic
life has been spent at Glenmont, a beautiful property
acquired at that time in Llewellyn Park, on the higher
slopes of Orange Mountain, New Jersey, within easy
walking distance of the laboratory at the foot of the
hill in West Orange. As noted already, the latter
part of each winter is spent at Fort Myers, Florida,
where Edison has, on the banks of the Calahoutchie
River, a plantation home that is in many
ways a miniature copy of the home and laboratory
up North. Glenmont is a rather elaborate and
florid building in Queen Anne English style, of brick,
stone, and wooden beams showing on the exterior,
with an abundance of gables and balconies. It is
set in an environment of woods and sweeps of lawn,
flanked by unusually large conservatories, and
always bright in summer with glowing flower beds. It
would be difficult to imagine Edison in a stiffly formal
house, and this big, cozy, three-story, rambling mansion
has an easy freedom about it, without and within,
quite in keeping with the genius of the inventor, but
revealing at every turn traces of feminine taste and
culture. The ground floor, consisting chiefly of broad
drawing-rooms, parlors, and dining-hall, is chiefly
noteworthy for the "den," or lounging-room, at the
end of the main axis, where the family and friends
are likely to be found in the evening hours, unless
the party has withdrawn for more intimate social
intercourse to the interesting and fascinating private
library on the floor above. The lounging-room on
the ground floor is more or less of an Edison museum,
for it is littered with souvenirs from great people, and
with mementos of travel, all related to some event
or episode. A large cabinet contains awards,
decorations, and medals presented to Edison, accumulating
in the course of a long career, some of which
may be seen in the illustration opposite. Near by
may be noticed a bronze replica of the Edison gold
medal which was founded in the American Institute
of Electrical Engineers, the first award of which was
made to Elihu Thomson during the present year (1910).
There are statues of serpentine marble, gifts of the
late Tsar of Russia, whose admiration is also represented
by a gorgeous inlaid and enamelled cigar-case.

There are typical bronze vases from the Society of
Engineers of Japan, and a striking desk-set of writing
apparatus from Krupp, all the pieces being made out
of tiny but massive guns and shells of Krupp steel.
In addition to such bric-a-brac and bibelots of all
kinds are many pictures and photographs, including
the original sketches of the reception given to Edison
in 1889 by the Paris Figaro, and a letter from Madame
Carnot, placing the Presidential opera-box at the disposal
of Mr. and Mrs. Edison. One of the most conspicuous
features of the room is a phonograph equipment
on which the latest and best productions by
the greatest singers and musicians can always be
heard, but which Edison himself is everlastingly
experimenting with, under the incurable delusion that
this domestic retreat is but an extension of his
laboratory.

The big library--semi-boudoir--up-stairs is also
very expressive of the home life of Edison, but again
typical of his nature and disposition, for it is difficult
to overlay his many technical books and scientific
periodicals with a sufficiently thick crust of popular
magazines or current literature to prevent their
outcropping into evidence. In like manner the chat
and conversation here, however lightly it may begin,
turns invariably to large questions and deep problems,
especially in the fields of discovery and invention;
and Edison, in an easy-chair, will sit through
the long evenings till one or two in the morning,
pulling meditatively at his eyebrows, quoting something
he has just read pertinent to the discussion,
hearing and telling new stories with gusto, offering all
kinds of ingenious suggestions, and without fail
getting hold of pads and sheets of paper on which to
make illustrative sketches. He is wonderfully handy
with the pencil, and will sometimes amuse himself,
while chatting, with making all kinds of fancy bits
of penmanship, twisting his signature into circles and
squares, but always writing straight lines--so straight
they could not be ruled truer. Many a night it is a
question of getting Edison to bed, for he would much
rather probe a problem than eat or sleep; but at
whatever hour the visitor retires or gets up, he is sure
to find the master of the house on hand, serene and
reposeful, and just as brisk at dawn as when he
allowed the conversation to break up at midnight.
The ordinary routine of daily family life is of course
often interrupted by receptions and parties, visits to
the billiard-room, the entertainment of visitors, the
departure to and return from college, at vacation
periods, of the young people, and matters relating to
the many social and philanthropic causes in which
Mrs. Edison is actively interested; but, as a matter
of fact, Edison's round of toil and relaxation is singularly
uniform and free from agitation, and that is the
way he would rather have it.

Edison at sixty-three has a fine physique, and being
free from serious ailments of any kind, should carry
on the traditions of his long-lived ancestors as to a
vigorous old age. His hair has whitened, but is still
thick and abundant, and though he uses glasses for
certain work, his gray-blue eyes are as keen and
bright and deeply lustrous as ever, with the direct,
searching look in them that they have ever worn.
He stands five feet nine and one-half inches high,
weighs one hundred and seventy-five pounds, and
has not varied as to weight in a quarter of a
century, although as a young man he was slim to
gauntness. He is very abstemious, hardly ever
touching alcohol, caring little for meat, but fond of
fruit, and never averse to a strong cup of coffee or
a good cigar. He takes extremely little exercise,
although his good color and quickness of step would
suggest to those who do not know better that he is in
the best of training, and one who lives in the open air.

His simplicity as to clothes has already been
described. One would be startled to see him with a
bright tie, a loud checked suit, or a fancy waistcoat,
and yet there is a curious sense of fastidiousness about
the plain things he delights in. Perhaps he is not
wholly responsible personally for this state of affairs.
In conversation Edison is direct, courteous, ready to
discuss a topic with anybody worth talking to, and,
in spite of his sore deafness, an excellent listener.
No one ever goes away from Edison in doubt as to
what he thinks or means, but he is ever shy and
diffident to a degree if the talk turns on himself
rather than on his work.

If the authors were asked, after having written the
foregoing pages, to explain here the reason for Edison's
success, based upon their observations so far made,
they would first answer that he combines with a vigorous
and normal physical structure a mind capable of
clear and logical thinking, and an imagination of
unusual activity. But this would by no means offer
a complete explanation. There are many men of
equal bodily and mental vigor who have not achieved
a tithe of his accomplishment. What other factors
are there to be taken into consideration to explain
this phenomenon? First, a stolid, almost phlegmatic,
nervous system which takes absolutely no notice of
ennui--a system like that of a Chinese ivory-carver who
works day after day and month after month on a piece
of material no larger than your hand. No better
illustration of this characteristic can be found than in
the development of the nickel pocket for the storage
battery, an element the size of a short lead-pencil, on
which upward of five years were spent in experiments,
costing over a million dollars, day after day,
always apparently with the same tubes but with
small variations carefully tabulated in the note-books.
To an ordinary person the mere sight of such a tube
would have been as distasteful, certainly after a week
or so, as the smell of a quail to a man striving to eat
one every day for a month, near the end of his gastronomic
ordeal. But to Edison these small perforated
steel tubes held out as much of a fascination at the
end of five years as when the search was first begun,
and every morning found him as eager to begin the
investigation anew as if the battery was an absolutely
novel problem to which his thoughts had just been
directed.

Another and second characteristic of Edison's personality
contributing so strongly to his achievements
is an intense, not to say courageous, optimism in
which no thought of failure can enter, an optimism
born of self-confidence, and becoming--after forty or
fifty years of experience more and more a sense of
certainty in the accomplishment of success. In the
overcoming of difficulties he has the same intellectual
pleasure as the chess-master when confronted with a
problem requiring all the efforts of his skill and
experience to solve. To advance along smooth and
pleasant paths, to encounter no obstacles, to wrestle
with no difficulties and hardships--such has absolutely
no fascination to him. He meets obstruction
with the keen delight of a strong man battling with the
waves and opposing them in sheer enjoyment, and the
greater and more apparently overwhelming the forces
that may tend to sweep him back, the more vigorous his
own efforts to forge through them. At the conclusion
of the ore-milling experiments, when practically his
entire fortune was sunk in an enterprise that had to
be considered an impossibility, when at the age of
fifty he looked back upon five or six years of intense
activity expended apparently for naught, when everything
seemed most black and the financial clouds were
quickly gathering on the horizon, not the slightest
idea of repining entered his mind. The main experiment
had succeeded--he had accomplished what he
sought for. Nature at another point had outstripped
him, yet he had broadened his own sum of knowledge
to a prodigious extent. It was only during the past
summer (1910) that one of the writers spent a Sunday
with him riding over the beautiful New Jersey roads
in an automobile, Edison in the highest spirits and
pointing out with the keenest enjoyment the many
beautiful views of valley and wood. The wanderings
led to the old ore-milling plant at Edison, now
practically a mass of deserted buildings all going to decay.
It was a depressing sight, marking such titanic but
futile struggles with nature. To Edison, however, no
trace of sentiment or regret occurred, and the whole
ruins were apparently as much a matter of unconcern
as if he were viewing the remains of Pompeii. Sitting
on the porch of the White House, where he lived during
that period, in the light of the setting sun, his fine face
in repose, he looked as placidly over the scene as a
happy farmer over a field of ripening corn. All that
he said was: "I never felt better in my life than during
the five years I worked here. Hard work, nothing to
divert my thought, clear air and simple food made my
life very pleasant. We learned a great deal. It will
be of benefit to some one some time." Similarly, in
connection with the storage battery, after having
experimented continuously for three years, it was found
to fall below his expectations, and its manufacture had
to be stopped. Hundreds of thousands of dollars had
been spent on the experiments, and, largely without
Edison's consent, the battery had been very generally
exploited in the press. To stop meant not only to
pocket a great loss already incurred, facing a dark and
uncertain future, but to most men animated by
ordinary human feelings, it meant more than anything
else, an injury to personal pride. Pride? Pooh!
that had nothing to do with the really serious practical
problem, and the writers can testify that at the
moment when his decision was reached, work stopped
and the long vista ahead was peered into, Edison was
as little concerned as if he had concluded that, after all,
perhaps peach-pie might be better for present diet
than apple-pie. He has often said that time meant
very little to him, that he had but a small realization
of its passage, and that ten or twenty years were as
nothing when considering the development of a vital
invention.

These references to personal pride recall another
characteristic of Edison wherein he differs from most
men. There are many individuals who derive an intense
and not improper pleasure in regalia or military
garments, with plenty of gold braid and brass buttons,
and thus arrayed, in appearing before their friends
and neighbors. Putting at the head of the procession
the man who makes his appeal to public attention
solely because of the brilliancy of his plumage, and
passing down the ranks through the multitudes having
a gradually decreasing sense of vanity in their personal
accomplishment, Edison would be placed at the
very end. Reference herein has been made to the
fact that one of the two great English universities
wished to confer a degree upon him, but that he was
unable to leave his work for the brief time necessary
to accept the honor. At that occasion it was pointed
out to him that he should make every possible sacrifice
to go, that the compliment was great, and that but
few Americans had been so recognized. It was hope-
less--an appeal based on sentiment. Before him was
something real--work to be accomplished--a problem
to be solved. Beyond, was a prize as intangible as
the button of the Legion of Honor, which he concealed
from his friends that they might not feel he was
"showing off." The fact is that Edison cares little
for the approval of the world, but that he cares everything
for the approval of himself. Difficult as it may
be--perhaps impossible--to trace its origin, Edison
possesses what he would probably call a well-developed
case of New England conscience, for whose approval
he is incessantly occupied.

These, then, may be taken as the characteristics of
Edison that have enabled him to accomplish more
than most men--a strong body, a clear and active
mind, a developed imagination, a capacity of great
mental and physical concentration, an iron-clad nervous
system that knows no ennui, intense optimism,
and courageous self-confidence. Any one having these
capacities developed to the same extent, with the
same opportunities for use, would probably accomplish
as much. And yet there is a peculiarity about
him that so far as is known has never been referred to
before in print. He seems to be conscientiously
afraid of appearing indolent, and in consequence
subjects himself regularly to unnecessary hardship.
Working all night is seldom necessary, or until two or
three o'clock in the morning, yet even now he persists
in such tests upon his strength. Recently one of the
writers had occasion to present to him a long type-
written document of upward of thirty pages for his
approval. It was taken home to Glenmont. Edison
had a few minor corrections to make, probably not
more than a dozen all told. They could have been
embodied by interlineations and marginal notes in the
ordinary way, and certainly would not have required
more than ten or fifteen minutes of his time. Yet
what did he do? HE COPIED OUT PAINSTAKINGLY THE
ENTIRE PAPER IN LONG HAND, embodying the corrections
as he went along, and presented the result of his work
the following morning. At the very least such a task
must have occupied several hours. How can such a
trait--and scores of similar experiences could be given
--be explained except by the fact that, evidently, he
felt the need of special schooling in industry--that
under no circumstances must he allow a thought of
indolence to enter his mind?

Undoubtedly in the days to come Edison will not
only be recognized as an intellectual prodigy, but as a
prodigy of industry--of hard work. In his field as
inventor and man of science he stands as clear-cut and
secure as the lighthouse on a rock, and as indifferent
to the tumult around. But as the "old man"--
and before he was thirty years old he was affectionately
so called by his laboratory associates--he is a
normal, fun-loving, typical American. His sense of
humor is intense, but not of the hothouse, over-
developed variety. One of his favorite jokes is to
enter the legal department with an air of great
humility and apply for a job as an inventor! Never is
he so preoccupied or fretted with cares as not to drop
all thought of his work for a few moments to listen to
a new story, with a ready smile all the while, and a
hearty, boyish laugh at the end. His laugh, in fact,
is sometimes almost aboriginal; slapping his hands
delightedly on his knees, he rocks back and forth and
fairly shouts his pleasure. Recently a daily report
of one of his companies that had just been started
contained a large order amounting to several thousand
dollars, and was returned by him with a miniature
sketch of a small individual viewing that particular
item through a telescope! His facility in making
hasty but intensely graphic sketches is proverbial.
He takes great delight in imitating the lingo of the
New York street gamin. A dignified person named
James may be greeted with: "Hully Gee! Chimmy,
when did youse blow in?" He likes to mimic and
imitate types, generally, that are distasteful to him.
The sanctimonious hypocrite, the sleek speculator,
and others whom he has probably encountered in life
are done "to the queen's taste."

One very cold winter's day he entered the laboratory
library in fine spirits, "doing" the decayed dandy,
with imaginary cane under his arm, struggling to put
on a pair of tattered imaginary gloves, with a self-
satisfied smirk and leer that would have done credit
to a real comedian. This particular bit of acting was
heightened by the fact that even in the coldest weather
he wears thin summer clothes, generally acid-worn and
more or less disreputable. For protection he varies
the number of his suits of underclothing, sometimes
wearing three or four sets, according to the thermometer.

If one could divorce Edison from the idea of work,
and could regard him separate and apart from his
embodiment as an inventor and man of science, it
might truly be asserted that his temperament is essentially
mercurial. Often he is in the highest spirits,
with all the spontaneity of youth, and again he is
depressed, moody, and violently angry. Anger with
him, however, is a good deal like the story attributed
to Napoleon:

"Sire, how is it that your judgment is not affected
by your great rage?" asked one of his courtiers.

"Because," said the Emperor, "I never allow it to
rise above this line," drawing his hand across his
throat. Edison has been seen sometimes almost beside
himself with anger at a stupid mistake or inexcusable
oversight on the part of an assistant, his voice
raised to a high pitch, sneeringly expressing his feelings
of contempt for the offender; and yet when the
culprit, like a bad school-boy, has left the room,
Edison has immediately returned to his normal poise,
and the incident is a thing of the past. At other
times the unsettled condition persists, and his spleen
is vented not only on the original instigator but upon
others who may have occasion to see him, sometimes
hours afterward. When such a fit is on him the word
is quickly passed around, and but few of his associates
find it necessary to consult with him at the time. The
genuine anger can generally be distinguished from the
imitation article by those who know him intimately
by the fact that when really enraged his forehead
between the eyes partakes of a curious rotary movement
that cannot be adequately described in words.
It is as if the storm-clouds within are moving like a
whirling cyclone. As a general rule, Edison does not
get genuinely angry at mistakes and other human
weaknesses of his subordinates; at best he merely
simulates anger. But woe betide the one who has
committed an act of bad faith, treachery, dishonesty,
or ingratitude; THEN Edison can show what it is for a
strong man to get downright mad. But in this respect
he is singularly free, and his spells of anger are
really few. In fact, those who know him best are
continually surprised at his moderation and patience,
often when there has been great provocation. People
who come in contact with him and who may have
occasion to oppose his views, may leave with the
impression that he is hot-tempered; nothing could be
further from the truth. He argues his point with
great vehemence, pounds on the table to emphasize
his views, and illustrates his theme with a wealth of
apt similes; but, on account of his deafness, it is
difficult to make the argument really two-sided. Before
the visitor can fully explain his side of the matter
some point is brought up that starts Edison off again,
and new arguments from his viewpoint are poured
forth. This constant interruption is taken by many
to mean that Edison has a small opinion of any
arguments that oppose him; but he is only intensely in
earnest in presenting his own side. If the visitor
persists until Edison has seen both sides of the controversy,
he is always willing to frankly admit that his
own views may be unsound and that his opponent is
right. In fact, after such a controversy, both parties
going after each other hammer and tongs, the arguments
TO HIM being carried on at the very top of one's
voice to enable him to hear, and FROM HIM being equally
loud in the excitement of the discussion, he has often
said: "I see now that my position was absolutely
rotten. "

Obviously, however, all of these personal characteristics
have nothing to do with Edison's position in the
world of affairs. They show him to be a plain, easy-
going, placid American, with no sense of self-importance,
and ready at all times to have his mind turned
into a lighter channel. In private life they show him
to be a good citizen, a good family man, absolutely
moral, temperate in all things, and of great charitableness
to all mankind. But what of his position in the
age in which he lives? Where does he rank in the
mountain range of great Americans?

It is believed that from the other chapters of this
book the reader can formulate his own answer to the
question.



INTRODUCTION TO THE APPENDIX

THE reader who has followed the foregoing narrative
may feel that inasmuch as it is intended to
be an historical document, an appropriate addendum
thereto would be a digest of all the inventions of
Edison. The desirability of such a digest is not to
be denied, but as there are some twenty-five hundred
or more inventions to be considered (including those
covered by caveats), the task of its preparation would
be stupendous. Besides, the resultant data would
extend this book into several additional volumes,
thereby rendering it of value chiefly to the technical
student, but taking it beyond the bounds of biography.

We should, however, deem our presentation of Mr.
Edison's work to be imperfectly executed if we neglected
to include an intelligible exposition of the broader
theoretical principles of his more important inventions. In
the following Appendix we have therefore endeavored
to present a few brief statements regarding Mr. Edison's
principal inventions, classified as to subject-
matter and explained in language as free from
technicalities as is possible. No attempt has been made
to conform with strictly scientific terminology, but,
for the benefit of the general reader, well-understood
conventional expressions, such as "flow of current,"
etc., have been employed. It should be borne in
mind that each of the following items has been treated
as a whole or class, generally speaking, and not as a
digest of all the individual patents relating to it.
Any one who is sufficiently interested can obtain copies
of any of the patents referred to for five cents each
by addressing the Commissioner of Patents, Washington,
D. C.



APPENDIX

THE STOCK PRINTER

IN these modern days, when the Stock Ticker is in universal
use, one seldom, if ever, hears the name of Edison
coupled with the little instrument whose chatterings have
such tremendous import to the whole world. It is of much
interest, however, to remember the fact that it was by reason
of his notable work in connection with this device that
he first became known as an inventor. Indeed, it was
through the intrinsic merits of his improvements in stock
tickers that he made his real entree into commercial
life.

The idea of the ticker did not originate with Edison, as
we have already seen in Chapter VII of the preceding narrative,
but at the time of his employment with the Western
Union, in Boston, in 1868, the crudities of the earlier forms
made an impression on his practical mind, and he got out
an improved instrument of his own, which he introduced in
Boston through the aid of a professional promoter. Edison,
then only twenty-one, had less business experience than the
promoter, through whose manipulation he soon lost his financial
interest in this early ticker enterprise. The narrative
tells of his coming to New York in 1869, and immediately
plunging into the business of gold and stock reporting. It
was at this period that his real work on stock printers
commenced, first individually, and later as a co-worker with
F. L. Pope. This inventive period extended over a number
of years, during which time he took out forty-six patents on
stock-printing instruments and devices, two of such patents
being issued to Edison and Pope as joint inventors. These
various inventions were mostly in the line of development of
the art as it progressed during those early years, but out
of it all came the Edison universal printer, which entered
into very extensive use, and which is still used throughout
the United States and in some foreign countries to a
considerable extent at this very day.

Edison's inventive work on stock printers has left its
mark upon the art as it exists at the present time. In his
earlier work he directed his attention to the employment of
a single-circuit system, in which only one wire was required,
the two operations of setting the type-wheels and of printing
being controlled by separate electromagnets which were
actuated through polarized relays, as occasion required, one
polarity energizing the electromagnet controlling the type-
wheels, and the opposite polarity energizing the electromagnet
controlling the printing. Later on, however, he
changed over to a two-wire circuit, such as shown in Fig. 2
of this article in connection with the universal stock printer.
In the earliest days of the stock printer, Edison realized the
vital commercial importance of having all instruments recording
precisely alike at the same moment, and it was he
who first devised (in 1869) the "unison stop," by means of
which all connected instruments could at any moment be
brought to zero from the central transmitting station, and
thus be made to work in correspondence with the central
instrument and with one another. He also originated the
idea of using only one inking-pad and shifting it from side to
side to ink the type-wheels. It was also in Edison's stock
printer that the principle of shifting type-wheels was first
employed. Hence it will be seen that, as in many other
arts, he made a lasting impression in this one by the intrinsic
merits of the improvements resulting from his work
therein.

We shall not attempt to digest the forty-six patents above
named, nor to follow Edison through the progressive steps
which led to the completion of his universal printer, but
shall simply present a sketch of the instrument itself, and
follow with a very brief and general explanation of its theory.
The Edison universal printer, as it virtually appears in
practice, is illustrated in Fig. 1 below, from which it will be
seen that the most prominent parts are the two type-wheels,
the inking-pad, and the paper tape feeding from the reel,
all appropriately placed in a substantial framework.

The electromagnets and other actuating
mechanism cannot be seen plainly
in this figure, but are produced
diagrammatically in Fig. 2, and somewhat
enlarged for convenience of explanation.

It will be seen that there are two electromagnets, one of which, TM, is known
as the "type-magnet," and the other, PM, as the "press-magnet,"
the former having to do with the operation of the type-
wheels, and the latter with the pressing of the
paper tape against them.  As will be seen from the
diagram, the armature, A, of the type-magnet
has an extension arm, on the end of which is
an escapement engaging with a toothed wheel placed at the extremity of the shaft
carrying the type-wheels. This extension arm is pivoted
at B. Hence, as the armature is alternately attracted
when current passes around its electromagnet, and
drawn up by the spring on cessation of current, it moves
up and down, thus actuating the escapement and causing a
rotation of the toothed wheel in the direction of the arrow.
This, in turn, brings any desired letters or figures on the
type-wheels to a central point, where they may be impressed
upon the paper tape. One type-wheel carries letters, and
the other one figures. These two wheels are mounted rigidly
on a sleeve carried by the wheel-shaft. As it is desired
to print from only one type-wheel at a time, it becomes
necessary to shift them back and forth from time to time, in
order to bring the desired characters in line with the paper
tape. This is accomplished through the movements of a
three-arm rocking-lever attached to the wheel-sleeve at
the end of the shaft. This lever is actuated through the
agency of two small pins carried by an arm projecting from
the press-lever, PL. As the latter moves up and down the
pins play upon the under side of the lower arm of the rocking-
lever, thus canting it and pushing the type-wheels to the
right or left, as the case may be. The operation of shifting
the type-wheels will be given further on.

The press-lever is actuated by the press-magnet. From
the diagram it will be seen that the armature of the latter
has a long, pivoted extension arm, or platen, trough-like in
shape, in which the paper tape runs. It has already been
noted that the object of the press-lever is to press this tape
against that character of the type-wheel centrally located
above it at the moment. It will at once be perceived that
this action takes place when current flows through the
electromagnet and its armature is attracted downward, the
platen again dropping away from the type-wheel as the
armature is released upon cessation of current. The paper
"feed" is shown at the end of the press-lever, and consists
of a push "dog," or pawl, which operates to urge the paper
forward as the press-lever descends.

The worm-gear which appears in the diagram on the shaft,
near the toothed wheel, forms part of the unison stop above
referred to, but this device is not shown in full, in order to
avoid unnecessary complications of the drawing.

At the right-hand side of the diagram (Fig. 2) is shown a
portion of the transmitting apparatus at a central office.
Generally speaking, this consists of a motor-driven cylinder
having metallic pins placed at intervals, and arranged
spirally, around its periphery. These pins correspond in
number to the characters on the type-wheels. A keyboard
(not shown) is arranged above the cylinder, having keys
lettered and numbered corresponding to the letters and
figures on the type-wheels. Upon depressing any one of
these keys the motion of the cylinder is arrested when one
of its pins is caught and held by the depressed key. When
the key is released the cylinder continues in motion. Hence,
it is evident that the revolution of the cylinder may be
interrupted as often as desired by manipulation of the various
keys in transmitting the letters and figures which are to be
recorded by the printing instrument. The method of transmission
will presently appear.

In the sketch (Fig. 2) there will be seen, mounted upon
the cylinder shaft, two wheels made up of metallic segments
insulated from each other, and upon the hubs of these
wheels are two brushes which connect with the main battery.
Resting upon the periphery of these two segmental wheels
there are two brushes to which are connected the wires which
carry the battery current to the type-magnet and press-
magnet, respectively, as the brushes make circuit by coming
in contact with the metallic segments. It will be remembered
that upon the cylinder there are as many pins as there
are characters on the type-wheels of the ticker, and one of
the segmental wheels, W, has a like number of metallic
segments, while upon the other wheel, W', there are only
one-half that number. The wheel W controls the supply of
current to the press-magnet, and the wheel W' to the type-
magnet. The type-magnet advances the letter and figure
wheels one step when the magnet is energized, and a succeeding
step when the circuit is broken. Hence, the metallic
contact surfaces on wheel W' are, as stated, only half as
many as on the wheel W, which controls the press-magnet.

It should be borne in mind, however, that the contact
surfaces and insulated surfaces on wheel W' are together
equal in number to the characters on the type-wheels, but
the retractile spring of TM does half the work of operating
the escapement. On the other hand, the wheel W has the
full number of contact surfaces, because it must provide
for the operative closure of the press-magnet circuit whether
the brush B' is in engagement with a metallic segment or
an insulated segment of the wheel W'. As the cylinder
revolves, the wheels are carried around with its shaft and
current impulses flow through the wires to the magnets as
the brushes make contact with the metallic segments of
these wheels.

One example will be sufficient to convey to the reader
an idea of the operation of the apparatus. Assuming, for
instance, that it is desired to send out the letters AM to the
printer, let us suppose that the pin corresponding to the
letter A is at one end of the cylinder and near the upper part
of its periphery, and that the letter M is about the centre
of the cylinder and near the lower part of its periphery.
The operator at the keyboard would depress the letter A,
whereupon the cylinder would in its revolution bring the
first-named pin against the key. During the rotation of the
cylinder a current would pass through wheel W' and actuate
TM, drawing down the armature and operating the escapement,
which would bring the type-wheel to a point where
the letter A would be central as regards the paper tape
When the cylinder came to rest, current would flow through
the brush of wheel W to PM, and its armature would be
attracted, causing the platen to be lifted and thus bringing
the paper tape in contact with the type-wheel and printing
the letter A. The operator next sends the letter M by
depressing the appropriate key. On account of the position
of the corresponding pin, the cylinder would make nearly
half a revolution before bringing the pin to the key. During
this half revolution the segmental wheels have also been
turning, and the brushes have transmitted a number of current
impulses to TM, which have caused it to operate the
escapement a corresponding number of times, thus turning
the type-wheels around to the letter M. When the cylinder
stops, current once more goes to the press-magnet, and the
operation of lifting and printing is repeated. As a matter
of fact, current flows over both circuits as the cylinder is
rotated, but the press-magnet is purposely made to be
comparatively "sluggish" and the narrowness of the segments
on wheel W tends to diminish the flow of current in the press
circuit until the cylinder comes to rest, when the current
continuously flows over that circuit without interruption
and fully energizes the press-magnet. The shifting of the
type-wheels is brought about as follows: On the keyboard
of the transmitter there are two characters known as "dots"--
namely, the letter dot and the figure dot. If the operator
presses one of these dot keys, it is engaged by an appropriate
pin on the revolving cylinder. Meanwhile the type-wheels
are rotating, carrying with them the rocking-lever, and current
is pulsating over both circuits. When the type-wheels
have arrived at the proper point the rocking-lever has been
carried to a position where its lower arm is directly over one
of the pins on the arm extending from the platen of the
press-lever. The cylinder stops, and current operates the
sluggish press-magnet, causing its armature to be attracted,
thus lifting the platen and its projecting arm. As the arm
lifts upward, the pin moves along the under side of the
lower arm of the rocking-lever, thus causing it to cant and
shift the type-wheels to the right or left, as desired. The
principles of operation of this apparatus have been confined
to a very brief and general description, but it is believed
to be sufficient for the scope of this article.



NOTE.--The illustrations in this article are reproduced from American Telegra-
phy
and Encyclopedia of the Telegraph, by William Maver, Jr., by permission of
Maver Publishing Company, New York.



II

THE QUADRUPLEX AND PHONOPLEX

EDISON'S work in stock printers and telegraphy had marked
him as a rising man in the electrical art of the period
but his invention of quadruplex telegraphy in 1874 was what
brought him very prominently before the notice of the public.
Duplex telegraphy, or the sending of two separate messages
in opposite directions at the same time over one line
was known and practiced previous to this time, but quadruplex
telegraphy, or the simultaneous sending of four
separate messages, two in each direction, over a single line
had not been successfully accomplished, although it had
been the subject of many an inventor's dream and the object
of anxious efforts for many long years.

In the early part of 1873, and for some time afterward,
the system invented by Joseph Stearns was the duplex in
practical use. In April of that year, however, Edison took
up the study of the subject and filed two applications for
patents. One of these applications[23] embraced an invention
by which two messages could be sent not only duplex,
or in opposite directions as above explained, but could also
be sent "diplex"--that is to say, in one direction, simultaneously,
as separate and distinct messages, over the one line.
Thus there was introduced a new feature into the art of
multiplex telegraphy, for, whereas duplexing (accomplished
by varying the strength of the current) permitted messages
to be sent simultaneously from opposite stations, diplexing
(achieved by also varying the direction of the current) permitted
the simultaneous transmission of two messages from
the same station and their separate reception at the distant
station.


[23] Afterward issued as Patent No. 162,633, April 27, 1875.



The quadruplex was the tempting goal toward which Edison
now constantly turned, and after more than a year's strenuous
work he filed a number of applications for patents in the
late summer of 1874. Among them was one which was issued
some years afterward as Patent No. 480,567, covering
his well-known quadruplex. He had improved his own
diplex, combined it with the Stearns duplex and thereby
produced a system by means of which four messages could
be sent over a single line at the same time, two in each
direction.

As the reader will probably be interested to learn something
of the theoretical principles of this fascinating invention,
we shall endeavor to offer a brief and condensed explanation
thereof with as little technicality as the subject
will permit. This explanation will necessarily be of somewhat
elementary character for the benefit of the lay reader,
whose indulgence is asked for an occasional reiteration
introduced for the sake of clearness of comprehension. While
the apparatus and the circuits are seemingly very intricate,
the principles are really quite simple, and the difficulty of
comprehension is more apparent than real if the underlying
phenomena are studied attentively.

At the root of all systems of telegraphy, including multiplex
systems, there lies the single basic principle upon which
their performance depends--namely, the obtaining of a
slight mechanical movement at the more or less distant end
of a telegraph line. This is accomplished through the
utilization of the phenomena of electromagnetism. These
phenomena are easy of comprehension and demonstration.
If a rod of soft iron be wound around with a number of turns
of insulated wire, and a current of electricity be sent through
the wire, the rod will be instantly magnetized and will remain
a magnet as long as the current flows; but when the
current is cut off the magnetic effect instantly ceases. This
device is known as an electromagnet, and the charging and
discharging of such a magnet may, of course, be repeated
indefinitely. Inasmuch as a magnet has the power of attracting
to itself pieces of iron or steel, the basic importance
of an electromagnet in telegraphy will be at once apparent
when we consider the sounder, whose clicks are familiar to
every ear. This instrument consists essentially of an electro-
magnet of horseshoe form with its two poles close together,
and with its armature, a bar of iron, maintained in close
proximity to the poles, but kept normally in a retracted position
by a spring. When the distant operator presses down
his key the circuit is closed and a current passes along the
line and through the (generally two) coils of the electromagnet,
thus magnetizing the iron core. Its attractive power
draws the armature toward the poles. When the operator
releases the pressure on his key the circuit is broken, current
does not flow, the magnetic effect ceases, and the armature
is drawn back by its spring. These movements give rise
to the clicking sounds which represent the dots and dashes
of the Morse or other alphabet as transmitted by the operator.
Similar movements, produced in like manner, are availed
of in another instrument known as the relay, whose office
is to act practically as an automatic transmitter key, repeating
the messages received in its coils, and sending them
on to the next section of the line, equipped with its own
battery; or, when the message is intended for its own station,
sending the message to an adjacent sounder included
in a local battery circuit. With a simple circuit, therefore,
between two stations and where an intermediate battery is
not necessary, a relay is not used.

Passing on to the consideration of another phase of the
phenomena of electromagnetism, the reader's attention is
called to Fig. 1, in which will be seen on the left a simple
form of electromagnet consisting of a bar of soft iron wound
around with insulated wire, through which a current is flowing
from a battery. The arrows indicate the direction of
flow.

All magnets have two poles, north and south. A permanent
magnet (made of steel, which, as distinguished from soft
iron, retains its magnetism for long periods) is so called
because it is permanently magnetized and its polarity remains
fixed. In an electromagnet the magnetism exists
only as long as current is flowing through the wire, and the
polarity of the soft-iron bar is determined by the DIRECTION
of flow of current around it for the time being. If the direction
is reversed, the polarity will also be reversed. Assuming,
for instance, the bar to be end-on toward the observer,
that end will be a south pole if the current is flowing
from left to right, clockwise, around the bar; or a north
pole if flowing in the other direction, as illustrated at the
right of the figure. It is immaterial which way the wire is
wound around the bar, the determining factor of polarity
being the DIRECTION of the current. It will be clear, therefore,
that if two EQUAL currents be passed around a bar in opposite
directions (Fig. 3) they will tend to produce exactly opposite
polarities and thus neutralize each other. Hence, the bar
would remain non-magnetic.

As the path to the quadruplex passes through the duplex,
let us consider the Stearns system, after noting one other
principle--namely, that if more than one path is presented
in which an electric current may complete its circuit, it
divides in proportion to the resistance of each path. Hence,
if we connect one pole of a battery with the earth, and from
the other pole run to the earth two wires of equal resistance
as illustrated in Fig. 2, equal currents will traverse
the wires.

The above principles were employed in the Stearns differential
duplex system in the following manner: Referring to
Fig. 3, suppose a wire, A, is led from a battery around a bar
of soft iron from left to right, and another wire of equal
resistance and equal number of turns, B, around from right
to left. The flow of current will cause two equal opposing
actions to be set up in the bar; one will exactly offset the
other, and no magnetic effect will be produced. A relay
thus wound is known as a differential relay--more generally
called a neutral relay.

The non-technical reader may wonder what use can possibly
be made of an apparently non-operative piece of appara-
tus. It must be borne in mind, however, in considering a
duplex system, that a differential relay is used AT EACH END
of the line and forms part of the circuit; and that while each
relay must be absolutely unresponsive to the signals SENT
OUT FROM ITS HOME OFFICE, it must respond to signals transmitted
by a DISTANT OFFICE. Hence, the next figure (4), with
its accompanying explanation, will probably make the
matter clear. If another battery, D, be introduced at the
distant end of the wire A the differential or neutral relay
becomes actively operative as follows: Battery C supplies
wires A and B with an equal current, but battery D doubles
the strength of the current traversing wire A. This is sufficient
to not only neutralize the magnetism which the cur-
rent in wire B would tend to set up, but also--by reason of
the excess of current in wire A--to make the bar a magnet
whose polarity would be determined by the direction of the
flow of current around it.

In the arrangement shown in Fig. 4 the batteries are so
connected that current flow is in the same direction, thus
doubling the amount of current flowing through wire A.
But suppose the batteries were so connected that the current
from each set flowed in an opposite direction? The result
would be that these currents would oppose and neutralize
each other, and, therefore, none would flow in wire A.
Inasmuch, however, as there is nothing to hinder, current
would flow from battery C through wire B, and the bar
would therefore be magnetized. Hence, assuming that the
relay is to be actuated from the distant end, D, it is in a
sense immaterial whether the batteries connected with wire
A assist or oppose each other, as, in either case, the bar would
be magnetized only through the operation of the distant key.

A slight elaboration of Fig. 4 will further illustrate the
principle of the differential duplex. In Fig. 5 are two stations,
A the home end, and B the distant station to which
a message is to be sent. The relay at each end has two coils,
1 and 2, No. 1 in each case being known as the "main-line
coil" and 2 as the "artificial-line coil." The latter, in each
case, has in its circuit a resistance, R, to compensate for the
resistance of the main line, so that there shall be no inequalities
in the circuits. The artificial line, as well as that
to which the two coils are joined, are connected to earth.
There is a battery, C, and a key, K. When the key is depressed,
current flows through the relay coils at A, but no
magnetism is produced, as they oppose each other. The
current, however, flows out through the main-line coil over
the line and through the main-line coil 1 at B, completing
its circuit to earth and magnetizing the bar of the relay,
thus causing its armature to be attracted. On releasing
the key the circuit is broken and magnetism instantly ceases.

It will be evident, therefore, that the operator at A may
cause the relay at B to act without affecting his own relay.
Similar effects would be produced from B to A if the battery
and key were placed at the B end.

If, therefore, like instruments are placed at each end of
the line, as in Fig. 6, we have a differential duplex arrangement
by means of which two operators may actuate relays
at the ends distant from them, without causing the operation
of the relays at their home ends. In practice this is
done by means of a special instrument known as a continuity
preserving transmitter, or, usually, as a transmitter.
This consists of an electromagnet, T, operated by a key, K,
and separate battery. The armature lever, L, is long,
pivoted in the centre, and is bent over at the end. At a
point a little beyond its centre is a small piece of insulating
material to which is screwed a strip of spring metal,
S. Conveniently placed with reference to the end of the
lever is a bent metallic piece, P, having a contact screw in
its upper horizontal arm, and attached to the lower end of
this bent piece is a post, or standard, to which the main
battery is electrically connected. The relay coils are connected
by wire to the spring piece, S, and the armature lever
is connected to earth. If the key is depressed, the armature
is attracted and its bent end is moved upward, depressing
the spring which makes contact with the upper screw,
which places the battery to the line, and simultaneously
breaks the ground connection between the spring and the
upturned end of the lever, as shown at the left. When the
key is released the battery is again connected to earth.
The compensating resistances and condensers necessary for
a duplex arrangement are shown in the diagram.

In Fig. 6 one transmitter is shown as closed, at A, while
the other one is open. From our previous illustrations and
explanations it will be readily seen that, with the transmitter
closed at station A, current flows via post P, through
S, and to both relay coils at A, thence over the main line to
main-line coil at B, and down to earth through S and the
armature lever with its grounded wire. The relay at A
would be unresponsive, but the core of the relay at B would
be magnetized and its armature respond to signals from A.
In like manner, if the transmitter at B be closed, current
would flow through similar parts and thus cause the relay
at A to respond. If both transmitters be closed simultaneously,
both batteries will be placed to the line, which would
practically result in doubling the current in each of the
main-line coils, in consequence of which both relays are
energized and their armatures attracted through the operation
of the keys at the distant ends. Hence, two messages
can be sent in opposite directions over the same line simultaneously.

The reader will undoubtedly see quite clearly from the
above system, which rests upon varying the STRENGTH of the
current, that two messages could not be sent in the same
direction over the one line at the same time. To accomplish
this object Edison introduced another and distinct
feature--namely, the using of the same current, but ALSO
varying its DIRECTION of flow; that is to say, alternately
reversing the POLARITY of the batteries as applied to the line
and thus producing corresponding changes in the polarity
of another specially constructed type of relay, called a
polarized relay. To afford the reader a clear conception of
such a relay we would refer again to Fig. 1 and its explanation,
from which it appears that the polarity of a soft-iron bar
is determined not by the strength of the current flowing
around it but by the direction thereof.

With this idea clearly in mind, the theory of the polarized
relay, generally called "polar" relay, as presented in the
diagram (Fig. 7), will be readily understood.

A is a bar of soft iron, bent as shown, and wound around
with insulated copper wire, the ends of which are connected
with a battery, B, thus forming an electromagnet. An
essential part of this relay consists of a swinging PERMANENT
magnet, C, whose polarity remains fixed, that end between
the terminals of the electromagnet being a north pole.
Inasmuch as unlike poles of magnets are attracted to each
other and like poles repelled, it follows that this north pole
will be repelled by the north pole of the electromagnet, but
will swing over and be attracted by its south pole. If the
direction of flow of current be reversed, by reversing the
battery, the electromagnetic polarity also reverses and the
end of the permanent magnet swings over to the other side.
This is shown in the two figures of Fig. 7. This device being
a relay, its purpose is to repeat transmitted signals into a
local circuit, as before explained. For this purpose there are
provided at D and E a contact and a back stop, the former
of which is opened and closed by the swinging permanent
magnet, thus opening and closing the local circuit.

Manifestly there must be provided some convenient way
for rapidly transposing the direction of the current flow if
such a device as the polar relay is to be used for the reception
of telegraph messages, and this is accomplished by means
of an instrument called a pole-changer, which consists
essentially of a movable contact piece connected permanently
to the earth, or grounded, and arranged to connect one or
the other pole of a battery to the line and simultaneously
ground the other pole. This action of the pole-changer is
effected by movements of the armature of an electromagnet
through the manipulation of an ordinary telegraph key by
an operator at the home station, as in the operation of the
"transmitter," above referred to.

By a combination of the neutral relay and the polar relay
two operators, by manipulating two telegraph keys in the
ordinary way, can simultaneously send two messages over
one line in the SAME direction with the SAME current, one
operator varying its strength and the other operator varying
its polarity or direction of flow. This principle was covered
by Edison's Patent No. 162,633, and was known as
the "diplex" system, although, in the patent referred to,
Edison showed and claimed the adaptation of the principle
to duplex telegraphy. Indeed, as a matter of fact, it was
found that by winding the polar relay differentially and
arranging the circuits and collateral appliances appropriately,
the polar duplex system was more highly efficient than
the neutral system, and it is extensively used to the present
day.

Thus far we have referred to two systems, one the neutral
or differential duplex, and the other the combination of the
neutral and polar relays, making a diplex system. By one
of these two systems a single wire could be used for sending
two messages in opposite directions, and by the other in
the same direction or in opposite directions. Edison followed
up his work on the diplex and combined the two
systems into the quadruplex, by means of which FOUR messages
could be sent and received simultaneously over the
one wire, two in each direction, thus employing eight
operators--four at each end--two sending and two receiving.
The general principles of quadruplex telegraphy are
based upon the phenomena which we have briefly outlined
in connection with the neutral relay and the polar relay.
The equipment of such a system at each end of the line consists
of these two instruments, together with the special
form of transmitter and the pole-changer and their keys for
actuating the neutral and polar relays at the other, or distant,
end. Besides these there are the compensating resistances
and condensers. All of these will be seen in the
diagram (Fig. 8). It will be understood, of course, that the
polar relay, as used in the quadruplex system, is wound
differentially, and therefore its operation is somewhat similar
in principle to that of the differentially wound neutral relay,
in that it does not respond to the operation of the key at the
home office, but only operates in response to the movements
of the distant key.

Our explanation has merely aimed to show the underlying
phenomena and principles in broad outline without entering
into more detail than was deemed absolutely necessary. It
should be stated, however, that between the outline and the
filling in of the details there was an enormous amount of
hard work, study, patient plodding, and endless experiments
before Edison finally perfected his quadruplex system
in the year 1874.

If it were attempted to offer here a detailed explanation
of the varied and numerous operations of the quadruplex,
this article would assume the proportions of a treatise. An
idea of their complexity may be gathered from the following,
which is quoted from American Telegraphy and Encyclopedia
of the Telegraph, by William Maver, Jr.:


"It may well be doubted whether in the whole range of
applied electricity there occur such beautiful combinations,
so quickly made, broken up, and others reformed, as in the
operation of the Edison quadruplex. For example, it is
quite demonstrable that during the making of a simple dash
of the Morse alphabet by the neutral relay at the home
station the distant pole-changer may reverse its battery
several times; the home pole-changer may do likewise, and the
home transmitter may increase and decrease the electromotive
force of the home battery repeatedly. Simultaneously,
and, of course, as a consequence of the foregoing
actions, the home neutral relay itself may have had its
magnetism reversed several times, and the SIGNAL, that is,
the dash, will have been made, partly by the home battery,
partly by the distant and home batteries combined, partly
by current on the main line, partly by current on the artificial
line, partly by the main-line `static' current, partly
by the condenser static current, and yet, on a well-adjusted
circuit the dash will have been produced on the quadruplex
sounder as clearly as any dash on an ordinary single-wire
sounder."

We present a diagrammatic illustration of the Edison
quadruplex, battery key system, in Fig. 8, and refer the
reader to the above or other text-books if he desires to make
a close study of its intricate operations. Before finally
dismissing the quadruplex, and for the benefit of the inquiring
reader who may vainly puzzle over the intricacies of the circuits
shown in Fig. 8, a hint as to an essential difference between
the neutral relay, as used in the duplex and as used
in the quadruplex, may be given. With the duplex, as we
have seen, the current on the main line is changed in strength
only when both keys at OPPOSITE stations are closed together,
so that a current due to both batteries flows over the main
line. When a single message is sent from one station to the
other, or when both stations are sending messages that do
not conflict, only one battery or the other is connected to
the main line; but with the quadruplex, suppose one of the
operators, in New York for instance, is sending reversals of
current to Chicago; we can readily see how these changes
in polarity will operate the polar relay at the distant station,
but why will they not also operate the neutral relay at the
distant station as well? This difficulty was solved by dividing
the battery at each station into two unequal parts, the
smaller battery being always in circuit with the pole-changer
ready to have its polarity reversed on the main line to operate
the distant polar relay, but the spring retracting the
armature of the neutral relay is made so stiff as to resist
these weak currents. If, however, the transmitter is operated
at the same end, the entire battery is connected to the
main line, and the strength of this current is sufficient to
operate the neutral relay. Whether the part or all the battery
is alternately connected to or disconnected from the
main line by the transmitter, the current so varied in
strength is subject to reversal of polarity by the pole-changer;
but the variations in strength have no effect upon the distant
polar relay, because that relay being responsive to
changes in polarity of a weak current is obviously responsive
to corresponding changes in polarity of a powerful current.
With this distinction before him, the reader will have
no difficulty in following the circuits of Fig. 8, bearing always
in mind that by reason of the differential winding of the polar
and neutral relays, neither of the relays at one station will
respond to the home battery, and can only respond to the
distant battery--the polar relay responding when the polarity
of the current is reversed, whether the current be strong
or weak, and the neutral relay responding when the line-
current is increased, regardless of its polarity. It should
be added that besides the system illustrated in Fig. 8, which
is known as the differential principle, the quadruplex was
also arranged to operate on the Wheatstone bridge principle;
but it is not deemed necessary to enter into its details. The
underlying phenomena were similar, the difference consisting
largely in the arrangement of the circuits and apparatus.[24]


[24] Many of the illustrations in this article are reproduced
from American Telegraphy and Encyclopedia of the Telegraph,
by William Maver, Jr., by permission of Maver Publishing Company, New York.



Edison made another notable contribution to multiplex
telegraphy some years later in the Phonoplex. The name
suggests the use of the telephone, and such indeed is the
case. The necessity for this invention arose out of the
problem of increasing the capacity of telegraph lines employed
in "through" and "way" service, such as upon railroads.
In a railroad system there are usually two terminal
stations and a number of way stations. There is naturally
much intercommunication, which would be greatly curtailed
by a system having the capacity of only a single message
at a time. The duplexes above described could not
be used on a railroad telegraph system, because of the
necessity of electrically balancing the line, which, while
entirely feasible on a through line, would not be practicable
between a number of intercommunicating points. Edison's
phonoplex normally doubled the capacity of telegraph lines,
whether employed on way business or through traffic, but
in actual practice made it possible to obtain more than
double service. It has been in practical use for many years
on some of the leading railroads of the United States.

The system is a combination of telegraphic apparatus and
telephone receiver, although in this case the latter instrument
is not used in the generally understood manner. It
is well known that the diaphragm of a telephone vibrates
with the fluctuations of the current energizing the magnet
beneath it. If the make and break of the magnetizing current
be rapid, the vibrations being within the limits of the
human ear, the diaphragm will produce an audible sound;
but if the make and break be as slow as with ordinary Morse
transmission, the diaphragm will be merely flexed and return
to its original form without producing a sound. If, therefore,
there be placed in the same circuit a regular telegraph
relay and a special telephone, an operator may, by manipulating
a key, operate the relay (and its sounder) without
producing a sound in the telephone, as the makes and breaks
of the key are far below the limit of audibility. But if
through the same circuit, by means of another key suitably
connected there is sent the rapid changes in current from
an induction-coil, it will cause a series of loud clicks in the
telephone, corresponding to the signals transmitted; but
this current is too weak to affect the telegraph relay. It
will be seen, therefore, that this method of duplexing is
practiced, not by varying the strength or polarity, but by
sending TWO KINDS OF CURRENT over the wire. Thus, two sets
of Morse signals can be transmitted by two operators over
one line at the same time without interfering with each
other, and not only between terminal offices, but also between
a terminal office and any intermediate office, or between two
intermediate offices alone.



III

AUTOMATIC TELEGRAPHY

FROM the year 1848, when a Scotchman, Alexander Bain,
first devised a scheme for rapid telegraphy by automatic
methods, down to the beginning of the seventies, many other
inventors had also applied themselves to the solution of
this difficult problem, with only indifferent success. "Cheap
telegraphy" being the slogan of the time, Edison became
arduously interested in the subject, and at the end of three
years of hard work produced an entirely successful system,
a public test of which was made on December 11, 1873
when about twelve thousand (12,000) words were transmitted
over a single wire from Washington to New York.
in twenty-two and one-half minutes. Edison's system was
commercially exploited for several years by the Automatic
Telegraph Company, as related in the preceding narrative.

As a premise to an explanation of the principles involved
it should be noted that the transmission of telegraph messages
by hand at a rate of fifty words per minute is considered
a good average speed; hence, the availability of a
telegraph line, as thus operated, is limited to this capacity
except as it may be multiplied by two with the use of the
duplex, or by four, with the quadruplex. Increased rapidity
of transmission may, however, be accomplished by automatic
methods, by means of which, through the employment of
suitable devices, messages may be stamped in or upon a
paper tape, transmitted through automatically acting instruments,
and be received at distant points in visible characters,
upon a similar tape, at a rate twenty or more times
greater--a speed far beyond the possibilities of the human
hand to transmit or the ear to receive.

In Edison's system of automatic telegraphy a paper tape
was perforated with a series of round holes, so arranged and
spaced as to represent Morse characters, forming the words
of the message to be transmitted. This was done in a special
machine of Edison's invention, called a perforator, consisting
of a series of punches operated by a bank of keys--typewriter
fashion. The paper tape passed over a cylinder, and was
kept in regular motion so as to receive the perforations in
proper sequence.

The perforated tape was then placed in the transmitting
instrument, the essential parts of which were a metallic
drum and a projecting arm carrying two small wheels, which,
by means of a spring, were maintained in constant pressure
on the drum. The wheels and drum were electrically connected
in the line over which the message was to be sent.
current being supplied by batteries in the ordinary manner.

When the transmitting instrument was in operation, the
perforated tape was passed over the drum in continuous,
progressive motion. Thus, the paper passed between the
drum and the two small wheels, and, as dry paper is a non-
conductor, current was prevented from passing until a
perforation was reached. As the paper passed along, the wheels
dropped into the perforations, making momentary contacts
with the drum beneath and causing momentary impulses of
current to be transmitted over the line in the same way that
they would be produced by the manipulation of the telegraph
key, but with much greater rapidity. The perforations
being so arranged as to regulate the length of the
contact, the result would be the transmission of long and
short impulses corresponding with the dots and dashes of
the Morse alphabet.

The receiving instrument at the other end of the line was
constructed upon much the same general lines as the transmitter,
consisting of a metallic drum and reels for the paper
tape. Instead of the two small contact wheels, however, a
projecting arm carried an iron pin or stylus, so arranged
that its point would normally impinge upon the periphery
of the drum. The iron pin and the drum were respectively
connected so as to be in circuit with the transmission line
and batteries. As the principle involved in the receiving
operation was electrochemical decomposition, the paper
tape upon which the incoming message was to be received
was moistened with a chemical solution readily decom-
posable by the electric current. This paper, while still in
a damp condition, was passed between the drum and stylus
in continuous, progressive motion. When an electrical impulse
came over the line from the transmitting end, current
passed through the moistened paper from the iron pin, causing
chemical decomposition, by reason of which the iron would
be attacked and would mark a line on the paper. Such a
line would be long or short, according to the duration of the
electric impulse. Inasmuch as a succession of such impulses
coming over the line owed their origin to the perforations
in the transmitting tape, it followed that the resulting
marks upon the receiving tape would correspond thereto in
their respective lengths. Hence, the transmitted message
was received on the tape in visible dots and dashes representing
characters of the Morse alphabet.

The system will, perhaps, be better understood by reference
to the following diagrammatic sketch of its general principles:

Some idea of the rapidity of automatic telegraphy may
be obtained when we consider the fact that with the use
of Edison's system in the early seventies it was common
practice to transmit and receive from three to four thousand
words a minute over a single line between New York and
Philadelphia. This system was exploited through the use
of a moderately paid clerical force.

In practice, there was employed such a number of perforating
machines as the exigencies of business demanded.
Each machine was operated by a clerk, who translated the
message into telegraphic characters and prepared the transmitting
tape by punching the necessary perforations therein.
An expert clerk could perforate such a tape at the rate of
fifty to sixty words per minute. At the receiving end the
tape was taken by other clerks who translated the Morse
characters into ordinary words, which were written on
message blanks for delivery to persons for whom the messages
were intended.

This latter operation--"copying." as it was called--was
not consistent with truly economical business practice.
Edison therefore undertook the task of devising an improved
system whereby the message when received would
not require translation and rewriting, but would automatically
appear on the tape in plain letters and words, ready
for instant delivery.

The result was his automatic Roman letter system, the
basis for which included the above-named general principles
of perforated transmission tape and electrochemical
decomposition. Instead of punching Morse characters in the
transmission tape however, it was perforated with a series
of small round holes forming Roman letters. The verticals
of these letters were originally five holes high. The transmitting
instrument had five small wheels or rollers, instead
of two, for making contacts through the perforations and
causing short electric impulses to pass over the lines. At
first five lines were used to carry these impulses to the
receiving instrument, where there were five iron pins impinging
on the drum. By means of these pins the chemically
prepared tape was marked with dots corresponding to the
impulses as received, leaving upon it a legible record of the
letters and words transmitted.

For purposes of economy in investment and maintenance,
Edison devised subsequently a plan by which the number
of conducting lines was reduced to two, instead of five. The
verticals of the letters were perforated only four holes high,
and the four rollers were arranged in pairs, one pair being
slightly in advance of the other. There were, of course, only
four pins at the receiving instrument. Two were of iron and
two of tellurium, it being the gist of Edison's plan to effect
the marking of the chemical paper by one metal with a
positive current, and by the other metal with a negative
current. In the following diagram, which shows the theory
of this arrangement, it will be seen that both the transmitting
rollers and the receiving pins are arranged in pairs,
one pair in each case being slightly in advance of the other.
Of these receiving pins, one pair--1 and 3--are of iron, and
the other pair--2 and 4--of tellurium. Pins 1-2 and 3-4
are electrically connected together in other pairs, and then
each of these pairs is connected with one of the main lines
that run respectively to the middle of two groups of
batteries at the transmitting end. The terminals of these
groups of batteries are connected respectively to the four
rollers which impinge upon the transmitting drum, the
negatives being connected to 5 and 7, and the positives to 6
and 8, as denoted by the letters N and P. The transmitting
and receiving drums are respectively connected to earth.

In operation the perforated tape is placed on the
transmission drum, and the chemically prepared tape on the
receiving drum. As the perforated tape passes over the
transmission drum the advanced rollers 6 or 8 first close
the circuit through the perforations, and a positive current
passes from the batteries through the drum and down to the
ground; thence through the earth at the receiving end up
to the other drum and back to the batteries via the tellurium
pins 2 or 4 and the line wire. With this positive current the
tellurium pins make marks upon the paper tape, but the
iron pins make no mark. In the merest fraction of a second,
as the perforated paper continues to pass over the transmission
drum, the rollers 5 or 7 close the circuit through
other perforations and t e current passes in the opposite
direction, over the line wire, through pins 1 or 3, and
returns through the earth. In this case the iron pins mark
the paper tape, but the tellurium pins make no mark. It
will be obvious, therefore, that as the rollers are set so as to
allow of currents of opposite polarity to be alternately and
rapidly sent by means of the perforations, the marks upon
the tape at the receiving station will occupy their proper
relative positions, and the aggregate result will be letters
corresponding to those perforated in the transmission tape.

Edison subsequently made still further improvements in
this direction, by which he reduced the number of conducting
wires to one, but the principles involved were analogous
to the one just described.

This Roman letter system was in use for several years on
lines between New York, Philadelphia, and Washington,
and was so efficient that a speed of three thousand words a
minute was attained on the line between the two first-named
cities.

Inasmuch as there were several proposed systems of rapid
automatic telegraphy in existence at the time Edison entered
the field, but none of them in practical commercial
use, it becomes a matter of interest to inquire wherein they
were deficient, and what constituted the elements of Edison's
success.

The chief difficulties in the transmission of Morse
characters had been two in number, the most serious of which
was that on the receiving tape the characters would be
prolonged and run into one another, forming a draggled line and
thus rendering the message unintelligible. This arose from
the fact that, on account of the rapid succession of the electric
impulses, there was not sufficient time between them for
the electric action to cease entirely. Consequently the line
could not clear itself, and became surcharged, as it were;
the effect being an attenuated prolongation of each impulse
as manifested in a weaker continuation of the mark on the
tape, thus making the whole message indistinct. These
secondary marks were called "tailings."

For many years electricians had tried in vain to overcome
this difficulty. Edison devoted a great deal of thought
and energy to the question, in the course of which he
experimented through one hundred and twenty consecutive
nights, in the year 1873, on the line between New York and
Washington. His solution of the problem was simple but
effectual. It involved the principle of inductive compensation.
In a shunt circuit with the receiving instrument he
introduced electromagnets. The pulsations of current
passed through the helices of these magnets, producing an
augmented marking effect upon the receiving tape, but
upon the breaking of the current, the magnet, in discharging
itself of the induced magnetism, would set up momentarily
a counter-current of opposite polarity. This neutralized
the "tailing" effect by clearing the line between
pulsations, thus allowing the telegraphic characters to be
clearly and distinctly outlined upon the tape. Further
elaboration of this method was made later by the addition
of rheostats, condensers, and local opposition batteries on
long lines.

The other difficulty above referred to was one that had
also occupied considerable thought and attention of many
workers in the field, and related to the perforating of the
dash in the transmission tape. It involved mechanical
complications that seemed to be insurmountable, and up to the
time Edison invented his perforating machine no really good
method was available. He abandoned the attempt to cut
dashes as such, in the paper tape, but instead punched three
round holes so arranged as to form a triangle. A concrete
example is presented in the illustration below, which shows
a piece of tape with perforations representing the word
"same."

The philosophy of this will be at once perceived when it
is remembered that the two little wheels running upon the
drum of the transmitting instrument were situated side by
side, corresponding in distance to the two rows of holes.
When a triangle of three holes, intended to form the dash,
reached the wheels, one of them dropped into a lower hole.
Before it could get out, the other wheel dropped into the hole
at the apex of the triangle, thus continuing the connection,
which was still further prolonged by the first wheel dropping
into the third hole. Thus, an extended contact was made,
which, by transmitting a long impulse, resulted in the marking
of a dash upon the receiving tape.

This method was in successful commercial use for some
time in the early seventies, giving a speed of from three to
four thousand words a minute over a single line, but later
on was superseded by Edison's Roman letter system, above
referred to.

The subject of automatic telegraphy received a vast
amount of attention from inventors at the time it was in
vogue. None was more earnest or indefatigable than Edison,
who, during the progress of his investigations, took out
thirty-eight patents on various inventions relating thereto,
some of them covering chemical solutions for the receiving
paper. This of itself was a subject of much importance
and a vast amount of research and labor was expended
upon it. In the laboratory note-books there are recorded
thousands of experiments showing that Edison's investigations
not only included an enormous number of chemical
salts and compounds, but also an exhaustive variety of
plants, flowers, roots, herbs, and barks.

It seems inexplicable at first view that a system of telegraphy
sufficiently rapid and economical to be practically
available for important business correspondence should have
fallen into disuse. This, however, is made clear--so far as
concerns Edison's invention at any rate--in Chapter VIII
of the preceding narrative.



IV

WIRELESS TELEGRAPHY


ALTHOUGH Mr. Edison has taken no active part in the
development of the more modern wireless telegraphy, and
his name has not occurred in connection therewith, the
underlying phenomena had been noted by him many years in
advance of the art, as will presently be explained. The
authors believe that this explanation will reveal a status of
Edison in relation to the subject that has thus far been unknown
to the public.

While the term "wireless telegraphy," as now applied to
the modern method of electrical communication between distant
points without intervening conductors, is self-explanatory,
it was also applicable, strictly speaking, to the previous
art of telegraphing to and from moving trains, and between
points not greatly remote from each other, and not connected
together with wires.

The latter system (described in Chapter XXIII and in a
succeeding article of this Appendix) was based upon the
phenomena of electromagnetic or electrostatic induction between
conductors separated by more or less space, whereby
electric impulses of relatively low potential and low frequency
set up in. one conductor were transmitted inductively
across the air to another conductor, and there received
through the medium of appropriate instruments connected
therewith.

As distinguished from this system, however, modern wireless
telegraphy--so called--has its basis in the utilization of
electric or ether waves in free space, such waves being set up
by electric oscillations, or surgings, of comparatively high
potential and high frequency, produced by the operation of
suitable electrical apparatus. Broadly speaking, these oscillations
arise from disruptive discharges of an induction
coil, or other form of oscillator, across an air-gap, and their
character is controlled by the manipulation of a special type
of circuit-breaking key, by means of which long and short
discharges are produced. The electric or etheric waves
thereby set up are detected and received by another special
form of apparatus more or less distant, without any intervening
wires or conductors.

In November, 1875, Edison, while experimenting in his
Newark laboratory, discovered a new manifestation of electricity
through mysterious sparks which could be produced
under conditions unknown up to that time. Recognizing
at once the absolutely unique character of the phenomena,
he continued his investigations enthusiastically over two
mouths, finally arriving at a correct conclusion as to the
oscillatory nature of the hitherto unknown manifestations.
Strange to say, however, the true import and practical
applicability of these phenomena did not occur to his mind.
Indeed, it was not until more than TWELVE YEARS AFTERWARD,
in 1887, upon the publication of the notable work of Prof.
H. Hertz proving the existence of electric waves in free space,
that Edison realized the fact that the fundamental principle
of aerial telegraphy had been within his grasp in the winter
of 1875; for although the work of Hertz was more profound
and mathematical than that of Edison, the principle involved
and the phenomena observed were practically identical--in
fact, it may be remarked that some of the methods and experimental
apparatus were quite similar, especially the "dark
box" with micrometer adjustment, used by both in observing
the spark.[25]


[25] During the period in which Edison exhibited his lighting system at
the Paris Exposition in 1881, his representative, Mr. Charles Batchelor,
repeated Edison's remarkable experiments of the winter of 1875 for the
benefit of a great number of European savants, using with other apparatus
the original "dark box" with micrometer adjustment.



There is not the slightest intention on the part of the
authors to detract in the least degree from the brilliant work
of Hertz, but, on the contrary, to ascribe to him the honor
that is his due in having given mathematical direction and
certainty to so important a discovery. The adaptation of
the principles thus elucidated and the subsequent development
of the present wonderful art by Marconi, Branly,
Lodge, Slaby, and others are now too well known to call for
further remark at this place.

Strange to say, that although Edison's early experiments
in "etheric force" called forth extensive comment and
discussion in the public prints of the period, they seemed to
have been generally overlooked when the work of Hertz was
published. At a meeting of the Institution of Electrical
Engineers, held in London on May 16, 1889, at which there
was a discussion on the celebrated paper of Prof. (Sir) Oliver
Lodge on "Lightning Conductors," however; the chairman,
Sir William Thomson (Lord Kelvin), made the following
remarks:

"We all know how Faraday made himself a cage six feet
in diameter, hung it up in mid-air in the theatre of the
Royal Institution, went into it, and, as he said, lived in it
and made experiments. It was a cage with tin-foil hanging
all round it; it was not a complete metallic enclosing shell.
Faraday had a powerful machine working in the neighborhood,
giving all varieties of gradual working-up and discharges
by `impulsive rush'; and whether it was a sudden
discharge of ordinary insulated conductors, or of Leyden
jars in the neighborhood outside the cage, or electrification
and discharge of the cage itself, he saw no effects on his
most delicate gold-leaf electroscopes in the interior. His attention
was not directed to look for Hertz sparks, or probably
he might have found them in the interior. Edison seems to
have noticed something of the kind in what he called the
etheric force. His name `etheric' may, thirteen years ago,
have seemed to many people absurd. But now we are all
beginning to call these inductive phenomena `etheric.' "

With these preliminary observations, let us now glance
briefly at Edison's laboratory experiments, of which mention
has been made.

Oh the first manifestation of the unusual phenomena in
November, 1875, Edison's keenness of perception led him
at once to believe that he had discovered a new force. Indeed,
the earliest entry of this discovery in the laboratory
note-book bore that caption. After a few days of further
experiment and observation, however, he changed it to
"Etheric Force," and the further records thereof (all in Mr.
Batchelor's handwriting) were under that heading.

The publication of Edison's discovery created considerable
attention at the time, calling forth a storm of general
ridicule and incredulity. But a few scientific men of the
period, whose experimental methods were careful and exact,
corroborated his deductions after obtaining similar phenomena
by repeating his experiments with intelligent precision.
Among these was the late Dr. George M. Beard, a
noted physicist, who entered enthusiastically into the
investigation, and, in addition to a great deal of independent
experiment, spent much time with Edison at his laboratory.
Doctor Beard wrote a treatise of some length on the subject,
in which he concurred with Edison's deduction that the
phenomena were the manifestation of oscillations, or rapidly
reversing waves of electricity, which did not respond to the
usual tests. Edison had observed the tendency of this force
to diffuse itself in various directions through the air and
through matter, hence the name "Etheric" that he had
provisionally applied to it.

Edison's laboratory notes on this striking investigation
are fascinating and voluminous, but cannot be reproduced
in full for lack of space. In view of the later practical
application of the principles involved, however, the reader will
probably be interested in perusing a few extracts therefrom
as illustrated by facsimiles of the original sketches from the
laboratory note-book.

As the full significance of the experiments shown by these
extracts may not be apparent to a lay reader, it may be
stated by way of premise that, ordinarily, a current only
follows a closed circuit. An electric bell or electric light is a
familiar instance of this rule. There is in each case an open
(wire) circuit which is closed by pressing the button or turning
the switch, thus making a complete and uninterrupted
path in which the current may travel and do its work. Until
the time of Edison's investigations of 1875, now under
consideration, electricity had never been known to manifest
itself except through a closed circuit. But, as the reader
will see from the following excerpts, Edison discovered a
hitherto unknown phenomenon--namely, that under certain
conditions the rule would be reversed and electricity would
pass through space and through matter entirely unconnected
with its point of origin. In other words, he had found the
forerunner of wireless telegraphy. Had he then realized the
full import of his discovery, all he needed was to increase the
strength of the waves and to provide a very sensitive detector,
like the coherer, in order to have anticipated the principal
developments that came many years afterward. With
these explanatory observations, we will now turn to the
excerpts referred to, which are as follows:

"November 22, 1875. New Force.--In experimenting
with a vibrator magnet consisting of a bar of Stubb's steel
fastened at one end and made to vibrate by means of a
magnet, we noticed a spark coming from the cores of the
magnet. This we have noticed often in relays, in stock-
printers, when there were a little iron filings between the
armature and core, and more often in our new electric pen,
and we have always come to the conclusion that it was
caused by strong induction. But when we noticed it on this
vibrator it seemed so strong that it struck us forcibly there
might be something more than induction. We now found
that if we touched any metallic part of the vibrator or magnet
we got the spark. The larger the body of iron touched to
the vibrator the larger the spark. We now connected a
wire to X, the end of the vibrating rod, and we found we
could get a spark from it by touching a piece of iron to it,
and one of the most curious phenomena is that if you turn
the wire around on itself and let the point of the wire touch
any other portion of itself you get a spark. By connecting
X to the gas-pipe we drew sparks from the gas-pipes in any
part of the room by drawing an iron wire over the brass jet
of the cock. This is simply wonderful, and a good proof
that the cause of the spark is a TRUE UNKNOWN FORCE."

"November 23, 1815. New Force.--The following very
curious result was obtained with it. The vibrator shown in
Fig. 1 and battery were placed on insulated stands; and a
wire connected to X (tried both copper and iron) carried
over to the stove about twenty feet distant. When the end
of the wire was rubbed on the stove it gave out splendid
sparks. When permanently connected to the stove, sparks
could be drawn from the stove by a piece of wire held in
the hand. The point X of vibrator was now connected to
the gas-pipe and still the sparks could be drawn from the
stove."

 . . . . . . . . .


"Put a coil of wire over the end of rod X and passed the
ends of spool through galvanometer without affecting it in
any way. Tried a 6-ohm spool add a 200-ohm. We now
tried all the metals, touching each one in turn to the point
X." [Here follows a list of metals and the character of spark
obtained with each.]

 . . . . . . . . .


"By increasing the battery from eight to twelve cells we
get a spark when the vibrating magnet is shunted with 3
ohms. Cannot taste the least shock at B, yet between carbon
points the spark is very vivid. As will be seen, X has no
connection with anything. With a glass rod four feet long, well
rubbed with a piece of silk over a hot stove, with a piece
of battery carbon secured to one end, we received vivid
sparks into the carbon when the other end was held in the
hand with the handkerchief, yet the galvanometer, chemical
paper, the sense of shock in the tongue, and a gold-leaf
electroscope which would diverge at two feet from a half-
inch spark plate-glass machine were not affected in the
least by it.

"A piece of coal held to the wire showed faint sparks.

"We had a box made thus: whereby two points could be
brought together within a dark box provided with an eyepiece.
The points were iron, and we found the sparks were
very irregular. After testing some time two lead-pencils
found more regular and very much more vivid. We then
substituted the graphite points instead of iron."[26]


[26] The dark box had micrometer screws for delicate adjustment of the carbon
points, and was thereafter largely used in this series of investigations for
better study of the spark. When Mr. Edison's experiments were repeated by Mr.
Batchelor, who represented him at the Paris Exposition of 1881, the dark box
was employed for a similar purpose.


 . . . . . . . . .


After recording a considerable number of other experiments,
the laboratory notes go on to state:


"November 30, 1875. Etheric Force.--We found the
addition of battery to the Stubb's wire vibrator greatly
increased the volume of spark. Several persons could obtain
sparks from the gas-pipes at once, each spark being equal
in volume and brilliancy to the spark drawn by a single
person.... Edison now grasped the (gas) pipe, and with the
other hand holding a piece of metal, he touched several
other metallic substances, obtained sparks, showing that the
force passed through his body."

. . . . . . . . .


"December 3, 1875. Etheric Force.--Charley Edison
hung to the gas-pipe with feet above the floor, and with a
knife got a spark from the pipe he was hanging on. We now
took the wire from the vibrator in one hand and stood on a
block of paraffin eighteen inches square and six inches thick;
holding a knife in the other hand, we drew sparks from the
stove-pipe. We now tried the crucial test of passing the
etheric current through the sciatic nerve of a frog just killed.
Previous to trying, we tested its sensibility by the current
from a single Bunsen cell. We put in resistance up to
500,000 ohms, and the twitching was still perceptible. We
tried the induced current from our induction coil having one
cell on primary,, the spark jumping about one-fiftieth of an
inch, the terminal of the secondary connected to the frog
and it straightened out with violence. We arranged frog's
legs to pass etheric force through. We placed legs on an
inverted beaker, and held the two ends of the wires on glass
rods eight inches long. On connecting one to the sciatic
nerve and the other to the fleshy part of the leg no movement
could be discerned, although brilliant sparks could be ob-
tained on the graphite points when the frog was in circuit.
Doctor Beard was present when this was tried."

 . . . . . . . . .


"December 5, 1875. Etheric Force.--Three persons
grasping hands and standing upon blocks of paraffin twelve
inches square and six thick drew sparks from the adjoining
stove when another person touched the sounder with any
piece of metal.... A galvanoscopic frog giving contractions
with one cell through two water rheostats was then placed
in circuit. When the wires from the vibrator and the gas-
pipe were connected, slight contractions were noted, sometimes
very plain and marked, showing the apparent presence
of electricity, which from the high insulation seemed improbable.
Doctor Beard, who was present, inferred from
the way the leg contracted that it moved on both opening
and closing the circuit. To test this we disconnected the
wire between the frog and battery, and placed, instead of a
vibrating sounder, a simple Morse key and a sounder taking
the `etheric' from armature. The spark was now tested in
dark box and found to be very strong. It was then connected
to the nerves of the frog, BUT NO MOVEMENT OF ANY KIND
COULD BE DETECTED UPON WORKING THE KEY, although the brilliancy
and power of the spark were undiminished. The thought
then occurred to Edison that the movement of the frog was
due to mechanical vibrations from the vibrator (which gives
probably two hundred and fifty vibrations per second), passing
through the wires and irritating the sensitive nerves of
the frog. Upon disconnecting the battery wires and holding
a tuning-fork giving three hundred and twenty-six vibrations
per second to the base of the sounder, the vibrations over
the wire made the frog contract nearly every time.... The
contraction of the frog's legs may with considerable safety
be said to be caused by these mechanical vibrations being
transmitted through the conducting wires."

Edison thought that the longitudinal vibrations caused
by the sounder produced a more marked effect, and proceeded
to try out his theory. The very next entry in the
laboratory note-book bears the same date as the above
(December 5, 1875), and is entitled "Longitudinal Vibrations,"
and reads as follows:


"We took a long iron wire one-sixteenth of an inch in diameter
and rubbed it lengthways with a piece of leather with
resin on for about three feet, backward and forward. About
ten feet away we applied the wire to the back of the neck
and it gives a horrible sensation, showing the vibrations
conducted through the wire."

. . . . . . . . .

The following experiment illustrates notably the movement
of the electric waves through free space:


"December 26, 1875. Etheric Force.--An experiment
tried to-night gives a curious result. A is a vibrator, B, C,
D, E are sheets of tin-foil hung on insulating stands. The
sheets are about twelve by eight inches. B and C are
twenty-six inches apart, C and D forty-eight inches and D
and E twenty-six inches. B is connected to the vibrator
and E to point in dark box, the other point to ground. We
received sparks at intervals, although insulated by such
space."


With the above our extracts must close, although we have
given but a few of the interesting experiments tried at the
time. It will be noticed, however, that these records show
much progression in a little over a month. Just after the
item last above extracted, the Edison shop became greatly
rushed on telegraphic inventions, and not many months
afterward came the removal to Menlo Park; hence the
etheric-force investigations were side-tracked for other
matters deemed to be more important at that time.

Doctor Beard in his previously mentioned treatise refers,
on page 27, to the views of others who have repeated Edison's
experiments and observed the phenomena, and in a foot-note
says:


"Professor Houston, of Philadelphia, among others, has
repeated some of these physical experiments, has adopted
in full and after but a partial study of the subject, the
hypothesis of rapidly reversed electricity as suggested in
my letter to the Tribune of December 8th, and further claims
priority of discovery, because he observed the spark of this
when experimenting with a Ruhmkorff coil four years ago.
To this claim, if it be seriously entertained, the obvious reply
is that thousands of persons, probably, had seen this spark
before it was DISCOVERED by Mr. Edison; it had been seen by
Professor Nipher, who supposed, and still supposes, it is the
spark of the extra current; it has been seen by my friend,
Prof. J. E. Smith, who assumed, as he tells me, without
examination, that it was inductive electricity breaking
through bad insulation; it had been seen, as has been stated,
by Mr. Edison many times before he thought it worthy of
study, it was undoubtedly seen by Professor Houston, who,
like so many others, failed to even suspect its meaning and
thus missed an important discovery. The honor of a scientific
discovery belongs, not to him who first sees a thing, but
to him who first sees it with expert eyes; not to him even
who drops an original suggestion, but to him who first makes,
that suggestion fruitful of results. If to see with the eyes
a phenomenon is to discover the law of which that phenomenon
is a part, then every schoolboy who, before the time
of Newton, ever saw an apple fall, was a discoverer of the
law of gravitation...."


Edison took out only one patent on long-distance telegraphy
without wires. While the principle involved therein
(induction) was not precisely analogous to the above, or to
the present system of wireless telegraphy, it was a step forward
in the progress of the art. The application was filed
May 23, 1885, at the time he was working on induction
telegraphy (two years before the publication of the work of
Hertz), but the patent (No. 465,971) was not issued until
December 29, 1891. In 1903 it was purchased from him by
the Marconi Wireless Telegraph Company. Edison has always
had a great admiration for Marconi and his work, and
a warm friendship exists between the two men. During the
formative period of the Marconi Company attempts were
made to influence Edison to sell this patent to an opposing
concern, but his regard for Marconi and belief in the
fundamental nature of his work were so strong that he refused
flatly, because in the hands of an enemy the patent might be
used inimically to Marconi's interests.

Edison's ideas, as expressed in the specifications of this
patent, show very clearly the close analogy of his system to
that now in vogue. As they were filed in the Patent Office
several years before the possibility of wireless telegraphy
was suspected, it will undoubtedly be of interest to give the
following extract therefrom:


"I have discovered that if sufficient elevation be obtained
to overcome the curvature of the earth's surface and to reduce
to the minimum the earth's absorption, electric telegraphing
or signalling between distant points can be carried
on by induction without the use of wires connecting such
distant points. This discovery is especially applicable to
telegraphing across bodies of water, thus avoiding the use
of submarine cables, or for communicating between vessels
at sea, or between vessels at sea and points on land, but it
is also applicable to electric communication between distant
points on land, it being necessary, however, on land (with
the exception of communication over open prairie) to increase
the elevation in order to reduce to the minimum the
induction-absorbing effect of houses, trees, and elevations in
the land itself. At sea from an elevation of one hundred
feet I can communicate electrically a great distance, and
since this elevation or one sufficiently high can be had by
utilizing the masts of ships, signals can be sent and received
between ships separated a considerable distance, and by
repeating the signals from ship to ship communication can
be established between points at any distance apart or
across the largest seas and even oceans. The collision of
ships in fogs can be prevented by this character of signalling,
by the use of which, also, the safety of a ship in approaching
a dangerous coast in foggy weather can be assured. In
communicating between points on land, poles of great height
can be used, or captive balloons. At these elevated points,
whether upon the masts of ships, upon poles or balloons,
condensing surfaces of metal or other conductor of electricity
are located. Each condensing surface is connected with
earth by an electrical conducting wire. On land this earth
connection would be one of usual character in telegraphy.
At sea the wire would run to one or more metal plates on
the bottom of the vessel, where the earth connection would
be made with the water. The high-resistance secondary
circuit of an induction coil is located in circuit between the
condensing surface and the ground. The primary circuit of
the induction coil includes a battery and a device for transmitting
signals, which may be a revolving circuit-breaker
operated continually by a motor of any suitable kind, either
electrical or mechanical, and a key normally short-circuiting
the circuit-breaker or secondary coil. For receiving signals
I locate in said circuit between the condensing surface and
the ground a diaphragm sounder, which is preferably one of
my electromotograph telephone receivers. The key normally
short-circuiting the revolving circuit-breaker, no impulses
are produced in the induction coil until the key is
depressed, when a large number of impulses are produced in
the primary, and by means of the secondary corresponding
impulses or variations in tension are produced at the elevated
condensing surface, producing thereat electrostatic impulses.
These electrostatic impulses are transmitted inductively to
the elevated condensing surface at the distant point, and are
made audible by the electromotograph connected in the
ground circuit with such distant condensing surface."


The accompanying illustrations are reduced facsimiles of
the drawings attached to the above patent, No. 465,971.




V

THE ELECTROMOTOGRAPH

IN solving a problem that at the time was thought to be
insurmountable, and in the adaptability of its principles to
the successful overcoming of apparently insuperable difficulties
subsequently arising in other lines of work, this invention
is one of the most remarkable of the many that
Edison has made in his long career as an inventor.

The object primarily sought to be accomplished was the
repeating of telegraphic signals from a distance without the
aid of a galvanometer or an electromagnetic relay, to overcome
the claims of the Page patent referred to in the preceding
narrative. This object was achieved in the device
described in Edison's basic patent No. 158,787, issued
January 19, 1875, by the substitution of friction and anti-
friction for the presence and absence of magnetism in a
regulation relay.

It may be observed, parenthetically, for the benefit of the
lay reader, that in telegraphy the device known as the relay
is a receiving instrument containing an electromagnet
adapted to respond to the weak line-current. Its armature
moves in accordance with electrical impulses, or signals,
transmitted from a distance, and, in so responding, operates
mechanically to alternately close and open a separate local
circuit in which there is a sounder and a powerful battery.
When used for true relaying purposes the signals received
from a distance are in turn repeated over the next section
of the line, the powerful local battery furnishing current for
this purpose. As this causes a loud repetition of the original
signals, it will be seen that relaying is an economic method
of extending a telegraph circuit beyond the natural limits of
its battery power.

At the time of Edison's invention, as related in Chapter
IX of the preceding narrative, there existed no other known
method than the one just described for the repetition of
transmitted signals, thus limiting the application of
telegraphy to the pleasure of those who might own any patent
controlling the relay, except on simple circuits where a
single battery was sufficient. Edison's previous discovery
of differential friction of surfaces through electrochemical
decomposition was now adapted by him to produce motion
at the end of a circuit without the intervention of an electromagnet.
In other words, he invented a telegraph instrument
having a vibrator controlled by electrochemical
decomposition, to take the place of a vibrating armature
operated by an electromagnet, and thus opened an entirely
new and unsuspected avenue in the art.

Edison's electromotograph comprised an ingeniously
arranged apparatus in which two surfaces, normally in contact
with each other, were caused to alternately adhere by
friction or slip by reason of electrochemical decomposition.
One of these surfaces consisted of a small drum or cylinder
of chalk, which was kept in a moistened condition with a
suitable chemical solution, and adapted to revolve
continuously by clockwork. The other surface consisted of a
small pad which rested with frictional pressure on the
periphery of the drum. This pad was carried on the end of a
vibrating arm whose lateral movement was limited between
two adjustable points. Normally, the frictional pressure
between the drum and pad would carry the latter with the
former as it revolved, but if the friction were removed a
spring on the end of the vibrator arm would draw it back to
its starting-place.

In practice, the chalk drum was electrically connected
with one pole of an incoming telegraph circuit, and the
vibrating arm and pad with the other pole. When the drum
rotated, the friction of the pad carried the vibrating arm
forward, but an electrical impulse coming over the line would
decompose the chemical solution with which the drum was
moistened, causing an effect similar to lubrication, and thus
allowing the pad to slip backward freely in response to the
pull of its retractile spring. The frictional movements of
the pad with the drum were comparatively long or short,
and corresponded with the length of the impulses sent in over
the line. Thus, the transmission of Morse dots and dashes
by the distant operator resulted in movements of corresponding
length by the frictional pad and vibrating arm.

This brings us to the gist of the ingenious way in which
Edison substituted the action of electrochemical decomposition
for that of the electromagnet to operate a relay.
The actual relaying was accomplished through the medium
of two contacts making connection with the local or relay
circuit. One of these contacts was fixed, while the other
was carried by the vibrating arm; and, as the latter made
its forward and backward movements, these contacts were
alternately brought together or separated, thus throwing in
and out of circuit the battery and sounder in the local circuit
and causing a repetition of the incoming signals. The
other side of the local circuit was permanently connected to
an insulated block on the vibrator. This device not only
worked with great rapidity, but was extremely sensitive,
and would respond to currents too weak to affect the most
delicate electromagnetic relay. It should be stated that
Edison did not confine himself to the working of the electromotograph
by the slipping of surfaces through the action of
incoming current, but by varying the character of the surfaces
in contact the frictional effect might be intensified by
the electrical current. In such a case the movements would
be the reverse of those above indicated, but the end sought
--namely, the relaying of messages--would be attained with
the same certainty.

While the principal object of this invention was to accomplish
the repetition of signals without the aid of an electromagnetic
relay, the instrument devised by Edison was
capable of use as a recorder also, by employing a small wheel
inked by a fountain wheel and attached to the vibrating arm
through suitable mechanism. By means of this adjunct the
dashes and dots of the transmitted impulses could be recorded
upon a paper ribbon passing continuously over the drum.

The electromotograph is shown diagrammatically in Figs.
1 and 2, in plan and vertical section respectively. The
reference letters in each case indicate identical parts: A
being the chalk drum, B the paper tape, C the auxiliary
cylinder, D the vibrating arm, E the frictional pad, F the
spring, G and H the two contacts, I and J the two wires leading
to local circuit, K a battery, and L an ordinary telegraph
key. The two last named, K and L, are shown to make the
sketch complete but in practice would be at the transmitting
end, which might be hundreds of miles away. It
will be understood, of course, that the electromotograph is
a receiving and relaying instrument.

Another notable use of the electromotograph principle
was in its adaptation to the receiver in Edison's loud-speaking
telephone, on which United States Patent No. 221,957
was issued November 25, 1879. A chalk cylinder moistened
with a chemical solution was revolved by hand or a small
motor. Resting on the cylinder was a palladium-faced pen
or spring, which was attached to a mica diaphragm in a
resonator. The current passed from the main line through
the pen to the chalk and to the battery. The sound-waves
impinging upon the distant transmitter varied the resistance
of the carbon button therein, thus causing corresponding
variations in the strength of the battery current. These
variations, passing through the chalk cylinder produced
more or less electrochemical decomposition, which in turn
caused differences of adhesion between the pen and cylinder
and hence gave rise to mechanical vibrations of the diaphragm
by reason of which the speaker's words were reproduced.
Telephones so operated repeated speaking and
singing in very loud tones. In one instance, spoken words
and the singing of songs originating at a distance were heard
perfectly by an audience of over five thousand people.

The loud-speaking telephone is shown in section,
diagrammatically, in the sketch (Fig. 3), in which A is the chalk
cylinder mounted on a shaft, B. The palladium-faced pen
or spring, C, is connected to diaphragm D. The instrument
in its commercial form is shown in Fig. 4.



VI

THE TELEPHONE

ON April 27, 1877, Edison filed in the United States Patent
Office an application for a patent on a telephone, and on
May 3, 1892, more than fifteen years afterward, Patent No.
474,230 was granted thereon. Numerous other patents have
been issued to him for improvements in telephones, but the
one above specified may be considered as the most important
of them, since it is the one that first discloses the principle
of the carbon transmitter.

This patent embodies but two claims, which are as follows:


"1. In a speaking-telegraph transmitter, the combination
of a metallic diaphragm and disk of plumbago or equivalent
material, the contiguous faces of said disk and diaphragm
being in contact, substantially as described.

"2. As a means for effecting a varying surface contact
in the circuit of a speaking-telegraph transmitter, the combination
of two electrodes, one of plumbago or similar material,
and both having broad surfaces in vibratory contact
with each other, substantially as described."


The advance that was brought about by Edison's carbon
transmitter will be more apparent if we glance first at the
state of the art of telephony prior to his invention.

Bell was undoubtedly the first inventor of the art of transmitting
speech over an electric circuit, but, with his particular
form of telephone, the field was circumscribed. Bell's
telephone is shown in the diagrammatic sectional sketch
(Fig. 1).

In the drawing M is a bar magnet contained in the rubber
case, L. A bobbin, or coil of wire, B, surrounds one end of
the magnet. A diaphragm of soft iron is shown at D, and
E is the mouthpiece. The wire terminals of the coil, B,
connect with the binding screws, C C.

The next illustration shows a pair of such telephones
connected for use, the working parts only being designated by
the above reference letters.

It will be noted that the wire terminals are here put to
their proper uses, two being joined together to form a line
of communication, and the other two being respectively connected
to "ground."

Now, if we imagine a person at each one of the instruments
(Fig. 2) we shall find that when one of them speaks
the sound vibrations impinge upon the diaphragm and cause
it to act as a vibrating armature. By reason of its vibrations,
this diaphragm induces very weak electric impulses
in the magnetic coil. These impulses, according to Bell's
theory, correspond in form to the sound-waves, and, passing
over the line, energize the magnet coil at the receiving end,
thus giving rise to corresponding variations in magnetism
by reason of which the receiving diaphragm is similarly vibrated
so as to reproduce the sounds. A single apparatus
at each end is therefore sufficient, performing the double
function of transmitter and receiver. It will be noticed that
in this arrangement no battery is used The strength of the
impulses transmitted is therefore limited to that of the
necessarily weak induction currents generated by the original
sounds minus any loss arising by reason of resistance in the
line.

Edison's carbon transmitter overcame this vital or limiting
weakness by providing for independent power on the transmission
circuit, and by introducing the principle of varying the
resistance of that circuit with changes in the pressure. With
Edison's telephone there is used a closed circuit on which a
battery current constantly flows, and in that circuit is a
pair of electrodes, one or both of which is carbon. These
electrodes are always in contact with a certain initial pressure,
so that current will be always flowing over the circuit. One
of the electrodes is connected with the diaphragm on which
the sound-waves impinge, and the vibrations of this diaphragm
cause corresponding variations in pressure between
the electrodes, and thereby effect similar variations in the
current which is passing over the line to the receiving end.
This current, flowing around the receiving magnet, causes
corresponding impulses therein, which, acting upon its
diaphragm, effect a reproduction of the original vibrations
and hence of the original sounds.

In other words, the essential difference is that with Bell's
telephone the sound-waves themselves generate the electric
impulses, which are therefore extremely faint. With Edison's
telephone the sound-waves simply actuate an electric
valve, so to speak, and permit variations in a current of any
desired strength.

A second distinction between the two telephones is this:
With the Bell apparatus the very weak electric impulses generated
by the vibration of the transmitting diaphragm pass
over the entire line to the receiving end, and, in consequence,
the possible length of line is limited to a few miles, even
under ideal conditions. With Edison's telephone the battery
current does not flow on the main line, but passes
through the primary circuit of an induction-coil, from the
secondary of which corresponding impulses of enormously
higher potential are sent out on the main line to the receiving
end. In consequence, the line may be hundreds of miles
in length. No modern telephone system is in use to-day
that does not use these characteristic features: the varying
resistance and the induction-coil. The system inaugurated
by Edison is shown by the diagram (Fig. 3), in which the car-
bon transmitter, the induction-coil, the line, and the distant
receiver are respectively indicated.

In Fig. 4 an early form of the Edison carbon transmitter is
represented in sectional view.

The carbon disk is represented by the black portion, E,
near the diaphragm, A, placed between two platinum plates
D and G, which are connected in the battery circuit, as shown
by the lines. A small piece of rubber tubing, B, is attached
to the centre of the metallic diaphragm, and presses lightly
against an ivory piece, F, which is placed directly over one
of the platinum plates. Whenever, therefore, any motion is
given to the diaphragm, it is immediately followed by a
corresponding pressure upon the carbon, and by a change of
resistance in the latter, as described above.

It is interesting to note the position which Edison occupies
in the telephone art from a legal standpoint. To this end
the reader's attention is called to a few extracts from a
decision of Judge Brown in two suits brought in the United
States Circuit Court, District of Massachusetts, by the American
Bell Telephone Company against the National Telephone
Manufacturing Company, et al., and Century Telephone
Company, et al., reported in Federal Reporter, 109, page 976,
et seq. These suits were brought on the Berliner patent,
which, it was claimed, covered broadly the electrical transmission
of speech by variations of pressure between opposing
electrodes in constant contact. The Berliner patent was
declared invalid, and in the course of a long and exhaustive
opinion, in which the state of art and the work of Bell, Edison,
Berliner, and others was fully discussed, the learned Judge
made the following remarks: "The carbon electrode was the
invention of Edison.... Edison preceded Berliner in the transmission
of speech.... The carbon transmitter was an experimental
invention of a very high order of merit.... Edison,
by countless experiments, succeeded in advancing the art.
. . . That Edison did produce speech with solid electrodes
before Berliner is clearly proven.... The use of carbon in a
transmitter is, beyond controversy, the invention of Edison.
Edison was the first to make apparatus in which carbon was
used as one of the electrodes.... The carbon transmitter
displaced Bell's magnetic transmitter, and, under several
forms of construction, remains the only commercial
instrument.... The advance in the art was due to the carbon
electrode of Edison.... It is conceded that the Edison
transmitter as apparatus is a very important invention.... An
immense amount of painstaking and highly ingenious experiment
preceded Edison's successful result. The discovery of
the availability of carbon was unquestionably invention,
and it resulted in the `first practical success in the art.' "



VII

EDISON'S TASIMETER

THIS interesting and remarkable device is one of Edison's
many inventions not generally known to the public at large,
chiefly because the range of its application has been limited
to the higher branches of science. He never applied for a
patent on the instrument, but dedicated it to the public.

The device was primarily intended for use in detecting and
measuring infinitesimal degrees of temperature, however
remote, and its conception followed Edison's researches on
the carbon telephone transmitter. Its principle depends
upon the variable resistance of carbon in accordance with
the degree of pressure to which it is subjected. By means
of this instrument, pressures that are otherwise inappreciable
and undiscoverable may be observed and indicated.

The detection of small variations of temperatures is
brought about through the changes which heat or cold will
produce in a sensitive material placed in contact with a
carbon button, which is put in circuit with a battery and
delicate galvanometer. In the sketch (Fig. 1) there is illustrated,
partly in section, the form of tasimeter which Edison
took with him to Rawlins, Wyoming, in July, 1878, on the
expedition to observe the total eclipse of the sun.

The substance on whose expansion the working of the
instrument depends is a strip of some material extremely
sensitive to heat, such as vulcanite. shown at A, and firmly
clamped at B. Its lower end fits into a slot in a metal plate,
C, which in turn rests upon a carbon button. This latter
and the metal plate are connected in an electric circuit which
includes a battery and a sensitive galvanometer. A vulcanite
or other strip is easily affected by differences of
temperature, expanding and contracting by reason of the
minutest changes. Thus, an infinitesimal variation in its
length through expansion or contraction changes the press-
ure on the carbon and affects the resistance of the circuit
to a corresponding degree, thereby causing a deflection of
the galvanometer; a movement of the needle in one direction
denoting expansion, and in the other contraction. The
strip, A, is first put under a slight pressure, deflecting the
needle a few degrees from zero. Any subsequent expansion
or contraction of the strip may readily be noted by further
movements of the needle. In practice, and for measurements
of a very delicate nature, the tasimeter is inserted in
one arm of a Wheatstone bridge, as shown at A in the
diagram (Fig. 2). The galvanometer is shown at B in the
bridge wire, and at C, D, and E there are shown the resistances
in the other arms of the bridge, which are adjusted to
equal the resistance of the tasimeter circuit. The battery
is shown at F. This arrangement tends to obviate any misleading
deflections that might arise through changes in the battery.

The dial on the front of the instrument is intended to indicate
the exact amount of physical expansion or contraction
of the strip. This is ascertained by means of a micrometer
screw, S, which moves a needle, T, in front of the dial.
This screw engages with a second and similar screw which
is so arranged as to move the strip of vulcanite up or down.
After a galvanometer deflection has been obtained through
the expansion or contraction of the strip by reason of a
change of temperature, a similar deflection is obtained
mechanically by turning the screw, S, one way or the other.
This causes the vulcanite strip to press more or less upon
the carbon button, and thus produces the desired change
in the resistance of the circuit. When the galvanometer
shows the desired deflection, the needle, T, will indicate upon
the dial, in decimal fractions of an inch, the exact distance
through which the strip has been moved.

With such an instrument as the above, Edison demonstrated
the existence of heat in the corona at the above-
mentioned total eclipse of the sun, but exact determinations
could not be made at that time, because the tasimeter adjustment
was too delicate, and at the best the galvanometer
deflections were so marked that they could not be kept
within the limits of the
scale. The sensitiveness
of the instrument may
be easily comprehended
when it is stated that
the heat of the hand
thirty feet away from
the cone-like funnel of
the tasimeter will so
affect the galvanometer
as to cause the spot of
light to leave the scale.

This instrument can also be used to indicate minute changes of
moisture in the air by substituting a strip of gelatine in
place of the vulcanite. When so arranged a moistened
piece of paper held several feet away will cause a minute
expansion of the gelatine strip, which effects a pressure
on the carbon, and causes a variation in the circuit sufficient
to throw the spot of light from the galvanometer mirror off
the scale.

The tasimeter has been used to demonstrate heat from
remote stars (suns), such as Arcturus.



VIII

THE EDISON PHONOGRAPH

THE first patent that was ever granted on a device for
permanently recording the human voice and other sounds, and
for reproducing the same audibly at any future time, was
United States Patent No. 200,251, issued to Thomas A.
Edison on February 19, 1878, the application having been
filed December 24, 1877. It is worthy of note that no references
whatever were cited against the application while
under examination in the Patent Office. This invention
therefore, marked the very beginning of an entirely new
art, which, with the new industries attendant upon its
development, has since grown to occupy a position of worldwide
reputation.

That the invention was of a truly fundamental character
is also evident from the fact that although all "talking-
machines" of to-day differ very widely in refinement from
the first crude but successful phonograph of Edison, their
performance is absolutely dependent upon the employment
of the principles stated by him in his Patent No. 200,251.
Quoting from the specification attached to this patent, we
find that Edison said:

"The invention consists in arranging a plate, diaphragm
or other flexible body capable of being vibrated by the
human voice or other sounds, in conjunction with a material
capable of registering the movements of such vibrating
body by embossing or indenting or altering such material,
in such a manner that such register marks will be sufficient to
cause a second vibrating plate or body to be set in motion
by them, and thus reproduce the motions of the first vibrating
body."

It will be at once obvious that these words describe perfectly
the basic principle of every modern phonograph or
other talking-machine, irrespective of its manufacture or
trade name.

Edison's first model of the phonograph is shown in the
following illustration.

It consisted of a metallic cylinder having a helical indenting
groove cut upon it from end to end. This cylinder was
mounted on a shaft supported on two standards. This
shaft at one end was fitted with a handle, by means of which
the cylinder was rotated. There were two diaphragms, one
on each side of the cylinder, one being for recording and the
other for reproducing speech or other sounds. Each diaphragm
had attached to it a needle. By means of the needle
attached to the recording diaphragm, indentations were
made in a sheet of tin-foil stretched over the peripheral sur-
face of the cylinder when the diaphragm was vibrated by
reason of speech or other sounds. The needle on the other
diaphragm subsequently followed these indentations, thus
reproducing the original sounds.

Crude as this first model appears in comparison with
machines of later development and refinement, it embodied
their fundamental essentials, and was in fact a complete,
practical phonograph from the first moment of its operation.

The next step toward the evolution of the improved phono-
graph of to-day was another form of tin-foil machine, as seen
in the illustration.

It will be noted that this was merely an elaborated form
of the first model, and embodied several mechanical
modifications, among which was the employment of only one
diaphragm for recording and reproducing. Such was the
general type of phonograph used for exhibition purposes in
America and other countries in the three or four years
immediately succeeding the date of this invention.

In operating the machine the recording diaphragm was
advanced nearly to the cylinder, so that as the diaphragm
was vibrated by the voice the needle would prick or indent a
wave-like record in the tin-foil that was on the cylinder. The
cylinder was constantly turned during the recording, and
in turning, was simultaneously moved forward. Thus the
record would be formed on the tin-foil in a continuous spiral
line. To reproduce this record it was only necessary to
again start at the beginning and cause the needle to retrace
its path in the spiral line. The needle, in passing rapidly
in contact with the recorded waves, was vibrated up and
down, causing corresponding vibrations of the diaphragm.
In this way sound-waves similar to those caused by the
original sounds would be set up in the air, thus reproducing
the original speech.

The modern phonograph operates in a precisely similar
way, the only difference being in details of refinement. In-
stead of tin-foil, a wax cylinder is employed, the record being
cut thereon by a cutting-tool attached to a diaphragm, while
the reproduction is effected by means of a blunt stylus
similarly attached.

The cutting-tool and stylus are devices made of sapphire,
a gem next in hardness to a diamond, and they have to be
cut and formed to an exact nicety by means of diamond dust,
most of the work being performed under high-powered
microscopes. The minute proportions of these devices will be
apparent by a glance at the accompanying illustrations, in
which the object on the left represents a
common pin, and the objects on the right
the cutting-tool and reproducing stylus,
all actual sizes.

In the next illustration (Fig. 4) there is
shown in the upper sketch, greatly magnified,
the cutting or recording tool in the
act of forming the record, being vibrated
rapidly by the diaphragm; and in the
lower sketch, similarly enlarged, a representation
of the stylus travelling over the
record thus made, in the act of effecting
a reproduction.

From the late summer of 1878 and to the fall of 1887
Edison was intensely busy on the electric light, electric railway,
and other problems, and virtually gave no attention to
the phonograph. Hence, just
prior to the latter-named period
the instrument was still
in its tin-foil age; but he
then began to devote serious
attention to the development
of an improved type that
should be of greater commercial
importance. The practical
results are too well known
to call for further comment.
That his efforts were not limited
in extent may be inferred
from the fact that since the fall of 1887 to the present
writing he has been granted in the United States one hun-
dred and four patents relating to the phonograph and its
accessories.

Interesting as the numerous inventions are, it would be
a work of supererogation to digest all these patents in the
present pages, as they represent not only the inception but
also the gradual development and growth of the wax-record
type of phonograph from its infancy to the present perfected
machine and records now so widely known all over the world.
From among these many inventions, however, we will select
two or three as examples of ingenuity and importance in their
bearing upon present perfection of results

One of the difficulties of reproduction for many years was
the trouble experienced in keeping the stylus in perfect en-
gagement with the wave-like record, so that every minute
vibration would be reproduced. It should be remembered
that the deepest cut of the recording tool is only about one-
third the thickness of tissue-paper. Hence, it will be quite
apparent that the slightest inequality in the surface of the
wax would be sufficient to cause false vibration, and thus
give rise to distorted effects in such music or other sounds
as were being reproduced. To remedy this, Edison added
an attachment which is called a "floating weight," and is
shown at A in the illustration above.

The function of the floating weight is to automatically keep
the stylus in close engagement with the record, thus insuring
accuracy of reproduction. The weight presses the stylus to
its work, but because of its mass it cannot respond to the
extremely rapid vibrations of the stylus. They are therefore
communicated to the diaphragm.

Some of Edison's most remarkable inventions are revealed
in a number of interesting patents relating to the duplication
of phonograph records. It would be obviously impossible,
from a commercial standpoint, to obtain a musical record
from a high-class artist and sell such an original to the public,
as its cost might be from one hundred to several thousand
dollars. Consequently, it is necessary to provide some way
by which duplicates may be made cheaply enough to permit
their purchase by the public at a reasonable price.

The making of a perfect original musical or other record
is a matter of no small difficulty, as it requires special technical
knowledge and skill gathered from many years of actual
experience; but in the exact copying, or duplication, of such
a record, with its many millions of microscopic waves and
sub-waves, the difficulties are enormously increased. The
duplicates must be microscopically identical with the original,
they must be free from false vibrations or other defects,
although both original and duplicates are of such easily
defacable material as wax; and the process must be cheap and
commercial not a scientific laboratory possibility.

For making duplicates it was obviously necessary to first
secure a mold carrying the record in negative or reversed
form. From this could be molded, or cast, positive copies
which would be identical with the original. While the art
of electroplating would naturally suggest itself as the means
of making such a mold, an apparently insurmountable
obstacle appeared on the very threshold. Wax, being a non-
conductor, cannot be electroplated unless a conducting surface
be first applied. The coatings ordinarily used in electro-
deposition were entirely out of the question on account of
coarseness, the deepest waves of the record being less than
one-thousandth of an inch in depth, and many of them probably
ten to one hundred times as shallow. Edison finally
decided to apply a preliminary metallic coating of infinitesimal
thinness, and accomplished this object by a remarkable
process known as the vacuous deposit. With this he ap-
plied to the original record a film of gold probably no thicker
than one three-hundred-thousandth of an inch, or several
hundred times less than the depth of an average wave.
Three hundred such layers placed one on top of the other
would make a sheet no thicker than tissue-paper.

The process consists in placing in a vacuum two leaves,
or electrodes, of gold, and between them the original record.
A constant discharge of electricity of high tension between
the electrodes is effected by means of an induction-coil. The
metal is vaporized by this discharge, and is carried by it
directly toward and deposited upon the original record, thus
forming the minute film of gold above mentioned. The
record is constantly rotated until its entire surface is coated.
A sectional diagram of the apparatus (Fig. 6.) will aid to a
clearer understanding of this ingenious process.

After the gold film is formed in the manner described
above, a heavy backing of baser metal is electroplated upon
it, thus forming a substantial mold, from which the original
record is extracted by breakage or shrinkage.

Duplicate records in any quantity may now be made from
this mold by surrounding it with a cold-water jacket and
dipping it in a molten wax-like material. This congeals on
the record surface just as melted butter would collect on a
cold knife, and when the mold is removed the surplus wax
falls out, leaving a heavy deposit of the material which forms
the duplicate record. Numerous ingenious inventions have
been made by Edison providing for a variety of rapid and
economical methods of duplication, including methods of
shrinking a newly made copy to facilitate its quick removal
from the mold; methods of reaming, of forming ribs on the
interior, and for many other important and essential details,
which limits of space will not permit of elaboration. Those
mentioned above are but fair examples of the persistent and
effective work he has done to bring the phonograph to its
present state of perfection.

In perusing Chapter X of the foregoing narrative, the
reader undoubtedly noted Edison's clear apprehension of
the practical uses of the phonograph, as evidenced by his
prophetic utterances in the article written by him for the
North American Review in June, 1878. In view of the
crudity of the instrument at that time, it must be acknowl-
edged that Edison's foresight, as vindicated by later events
was most remarkable. No less remarkable was his intensely
practical grasp of mechanical possibilities of future types of
the machine, for we find in one of his early English patents
(No. 1644 of 1878) the disk form of phonograph which, some
ten to fifteen years later, was supposed to be a new development
in the art. This disk form was also covered by Edison's
application for a United States patent, filed in 1879.
This application met with some merely minor technical objections
in the Patent Office, and seems to have passed into
the "abandoned" class for want of prosecution, probably
because of being overlooked in the tremendous pressure
arising from his development of his electric-lighting system.



IX

THE INCANDESCENT LAMP


ALTHOUGH Edison's contributions to human comfort and
progress are extensive in number and extraordinarily vast
and comprehensive in scope and variety, the universal verdict
of the world points to his incandescent lamp and system
of distribution of electrical current as the central and crowning
achievements of his life up to this time. This view
would seem entirely justifiable when we consider the wonderful
changes in the conditions of modern life that have
been brought about by the wide-spread employment of these
inventions, and the gigantic industries that have grown up
and been nourished by their world-wide application. That
he was in this instance a true pioneer and creator is
evident as we consider the subject, for the United States
Patent No. 223,898, issued to Edison on January 27, 1880,
for an incandescent lamp, was of such fundamental character
that it opened up an entirely new and tremendously important
art--the art of incandescent electric lighting. This
statement cannot be successfully controverted, for it has
been abundantly verified after many years of costly litigation.
If further proof were desired, it is only necessary to
point to the fact that, after thirty years of most strenuous
and practical application in the art by the keenest intellects
of the world, every incandescent lamp that has ever since
been made, including those of modern days, is still dependent
upon the employment of the essentials disclosed in the
above-named patent--namely, a filament of high resistance
enclosed in a sealed glass globe exhausted of air, with conducting
wires passing through the glass.

An incandescent lamp is such a simple-appearing article--
merely a filament sealed into a glass globe--that its intrinsic
relation to the art of electric lighting is far from being ap-
parent at sight. To the lay mind it would seem that this
must have been THE obvious device to make in order to obtain
electric light by incandescence of carbon or other material.
But the reader has already learned from the preceding
narrative that prior to its invention by Edison such a device
was NOT obvious, even to the most highly trained experts of
the world at that period; indeed, it was so far from being
obvious that, for some time after he had completed practical
lamps and was actually lighting them up twenty-four
hours a day, such a device and such a result were declared
by these same experts to be an utter impossibility. For a
short while the world outside of Menlo Park held Edison's
claims in derision. His lamp was pronounced a fake, a
myth, possibly a momentary success magnified to the dignity
of a permanent device by an overenthusiastic inventor.

Such criticism, however, did not disturb Edison. He
KNEW that he had reached the goal. Long ago, by a close
process of reasoning, he had clearly seen that the only road
to it was through the path he had travelled, and which was
now embodied in the philosophy of his incandescent lamp--
namely, a filament, or carbon, of high resistance and small
radiating surface, sealed into a glass globe exhausted of air
to a high degree of vacuum. In originally committing himself
to this line of investigation he was well aware that he
was going in a direction diametrically opposite to that followed
by previous investigators. Their efforts had been confined
to low-resistance burners of large radiating surface for
their lamps, but he realized the utter futility of such devices.
The tremendous problems of heat and the prohibitive quantities
of copper that would be required for conductors for
such lamps would be absolutely out of the question in commercial
practice.

He was convinced from the first that the true solution of
the problem lay in a lamp which should have as its illuminating
body a strip of material which would offer such a resistance
to the flow of electric current that it could be raised
to a high temperature--incandescence--and be of such small
cross-section that it would radiate but little heat. At the
same time such a lamp must require a relatively small amount
of current, in order that comparatively small conductors
could be used, and its burner must be capable of withstand-
ing the necessarily high temperatures without disintegration.

It is interesting to note that these conceptions were in
Edison's mind at an early period of his investigations, when
the best expert opinion was that the subdivision of the electric
current was an ignis fatuus. Hence we quote the following
notes he made, November 15, 1878, in one of the
laboratory note-books:


"A given straight wire having 1 ohm resistance and certain
length is brought to a given degree of temperature by
given battery. If the same wire be coiled in such a manner
that but one-quarter of its surface radiates, its temperature
will be increased four times with the same battery, or, one-
quarter of this battery will bring it to the temperature of
straight wire. Or the same given battery will bring a wire
whose total resistance is 4 ohms to the same temperature as
straight wire.

"This was actually determined by trial.

"The amount of heat lost by a body is in proportion to
the radiating surface of that body. If one square inch of
platina be heated to 100 degrees it will fall to, say, zero in one second,
whereas, if it was at 200 degrees it would require two seconds.

"Hence, in the case of incandescent conductors, if the
radiating surface be twelve inches and the temperature on
each inch be 100, or 1200 for all, if it is so coiled or arranged
that there is but one-quarter, or three inches, of radiating
surface, then the temperature on each inch will be 400. If
reduced to three-quarters of an inch it will have on that three-
quarters of an inch 1600 degrees Fahr., notwithstanding the original
total amount was but 1200, because the radiation has been reduced
to three-quarters, or 75 units; hence, the effect of the
lessening of the radiation is to raise the temperature of each
remaining inch not radiating to 125 degrees. If the radiating surface
should be reduced to three-thirty-seconds of an inch, the
temperature would reach 6400 degrees Fahr. To carry out this law
to the best advantage in regard to platina, etc., then with a
given length of wire to quadruple the heat we must lessen the
radiating surface to one-quarter, and to do this in a spiral,
three-quarters must be within the spiral and one-quarter
outside for radiating; hence, a square wire or other means,
such as a spiral within a spiral, must be used. These results
account for the enormous temperature of the Electric Arc
with one horse-power; as, for instance, if one horse-power
will heat twelve inches of wire to 1000 degrees Fahr., and this is
concentrated to have one-quarter of the radiating surface,
it would reach a temperature of 4000 degrees or sufficient to melt it;
but, supposing it infusible, the further concentration to one-
eighth its surface, it would reach a temperature of 16,000 degrees,
and to one-thirty-second its surface, which would be about
the radiating surface of the Electric Arc, it would reach
64,000 degrees Fahr. Of course, when Light is radiated in great
quantities not quite these temperatures would be reached.

"Another curious law is this: It will require a greater
initial battery to bring an iron wire of the same size and
resistance to a given temperature than it will a platina wire
in proportion to their specific heats, and in the case of Carbon,
a piece of Carbon three inches long and one-eighth diameter,
with a resistance of 1 ohm, will require a greater battery
power to bring it to a given temperature than a cylinder
of thin platina foil of the same length, diameter, and resistance,
because the specific heat of Carbon is many times greater;
besides, if I am not mistaken, the radiation of a roughened
body for heat is greater than a polished one like platina."

Proceeding logically upon these lines of thought and
following them out through many ramifications, we have seen
how he at length made a filament of carbon of high resistance
and small radiating surface, and through a concurrent
investigation of the phenomena of high vacua and occluded
gases was able to produce a true incandescent lamp. Not
only was it a lamp as a mere article--a device to give light--
but it was also an integral part of his great and complete
system of lighting, to every part of which it bore a fixed and
definite ratio, and in relation to which it was the keystone
that held the structure firmly in place.

The work of Edison on incandescent lamps did not stop
at this fundamental invention, but extended through more
than eighteen years of a most intense portion of his busy
life. During that period he was granted one hundred and
forty-nine other patents on the lamp and its manufacture.
Although very many of these inventions were of the utmost
importance and value, we cannot attempt to offer a detailed
exposition of them in this necessarily brief article, but must
refer the reader, if interested, to the patents themselves, a
full list being given at the end of this Appendix.
The outline sketch will indicate the principal patents
covering the basic features of the lamp.

The litigation on the Edison lamp patents was one of the
most determined and stubbornly fought contests in the
history of modern jurisprudence. Vast interests were at
stake. All of the technical, expert, and professional skill
and knowledge that money could procure or experience devise
were availed of in the bitter fights that raged in the
courts for many years. And although the Edison interests
had spent from first to last nearly $2,000,000, and had only
about three years left in the life of the fundamental patent,
Edison was thoroughly sustained as to priority by the decisions
in the various suits. We shall offer a few brief extracts
from some of these decisions.

In a suit against the United States Electric Lighting Company,
United States Circuit Court for the Southern District
of New York, July 14, 1891, Judge Wallace said, in his opinion:
"The futility of hoping to maintain a burner in vacuo
with any permanency had discouraged prior inventors, and
Mr. Edison is entitled to the credit of obviating the mechanical
difficulties which disheartened them.... He was
the first to make a carbon of materials, and by a process
which was especially designed to impart high specific resistance
to it; the first to make a carbon in the special form
for the special purpose of imparting to it high total resistance;
and the first to combine such a burner with the necessary adjuncts
of lamp construction to prevent its disintegration and
give it sufficiently long life. By doing these things he made
a lamp which was practically operative and successful, the
embryo of the best lamps now in commercial use, and but
for which the subdivision of the electric light by incandescence
would still be nothing but the ignis fatuus which it
was proclaimed to be in 1879 by some of the reamed experts
who are now witnesses to belittle his achievement and show
that it did not rise to the dignity of an invention.... It is
impossible to resist the conclusion that the invention of the
slender thread of carbon as a substitute for the burners
previously employed opened the path to the practical subdivision
of the electric light."

An appeal was taken in the above suit to the United States
Circuit Court of Appeals, and on October 4, 1892, the decree
of the lower court was affirmed. The judges (Lacombe and
Shipman), in a long opinion reviewed the facts and the art,
and said, inter alia: "Edison's invention was practically
made when he ascertained the theretofore unknown fact that
carbon would stand high temperature, even when very at-
tenuated, if operated in a high vacuum, without the phenomenon
of disintegration. This fact he utilized by the means
which he has described, a lamp having a filamentary carbon
burner in a nearly perfect vacuum."

In a suit against the Boston Incandescent Lamp Company
et al., in the United States Circuit Court for the District
of Massachusetts, decided in favor of Edison on June 11,
1894, Judge Colt, in his opinion, said, among other things:
"Edison made an important invention; he produced the
first practical incandescent electric lamp; the patent is a
pioneer in the sense of the patent law; it may be said that
his invention created the art of incandescent electric lighting."

Opinions of other courts, similar in tenor to the foregoing,
might be cited, but it would be merely in the nature of
reiteration. The above are sufficient to illustrate the direct
clearness of judicial decision on Edison's position as the
founder of the art of electric lighting by incandescence.



EDISON'S DYNAMO WORK

AT the present writing, when, after the phenomenally
rapid electrical development of thirty years, we find on the
market a great variety of modern forms of efficient current
generators advertised under the names of different inventors
(none, however, bearing the name of Edison), a young electrical
engineer of the present generation might well inquire
whether the great inventor had ever contributed anything
to the art beyond a mere TYPE of machine formerly made and
bearing his name, but not now marketed except second hand.

For adequate information he might search in vain the
books usually regarded as authorities on the subject of
dynamo-electric machinery, for with slight exceptions there
has been a singular unanimity in the omission of writers to
give Edison credit for his great and basic contributions to
heavy-current technics, although they have been universally
acknowledged by scientific and practical men to have laid
the foundation for the efficiency of, and to be embodied in
all modern generators of current.

It might naturally be expected that the essential facts of
Edison's work would appear on the face of his numerous
patents on dynamo-electric machinery, but such is not
necessarily the case, unless they are carefully studied in the
light of the state of the art as it existed at the time. While
some of these patents (especially the earlier ones) cover
specific devices embodying fundamental principles that not
only survive to the present day, but actually lie at the foundation
of the art as it now exists, there is no revelation
therein of Edison's preceding studies of magnets, which extended
over many years, nor of his later systematic investigations
and deductions.

Dynamo-electric machines of a primitive kind had been
invented and were in use to a very limited extent for arc
lighting and electroplating for some years prior to the summer
of 1819, when Edison, with an embryonic lighting SYSTEM
in mind, cast about for a type of machine technically and
commercially suitable for the successful carrying out of his
plans. He found absolutely none. On the contrary, all of
the few types then obtainable were uneconomical, indeed
wasteful, in regard to efficiency. The art, if indeed there
can be said to have been an art at that time, was in chaotic
confusion, and only because of Edison's many years' study
of the magnet was he enabled to conclude that insufficiency
in quantity of iron in the magnets of such machines, together
with poor surface contacts, rendered the cost of magnetization
abnormally high. The heating of solid armatures, the
only kind then known, and poor insulation in the commutators,
also gave rise to serious losses. But perhaps the most
serious drawback lay in the high-resistance armature, based
upon the highest scientific dictum of the time that in order
to obtain the maximum amount of work from a machine,
the internal resistance of the armature must equal the resistance
of the exterior circuit, although the application of
this principle entailed the useless expenditure of at least
50 per cent. of the applied energy.

It seems almost incredible that only a little over thirty
years ago the sum of scientific knowledge in regard to dynamo-
electric machines was so meagre that the experts of the
period should settle upon such a dictum as this, but such
was the fact, as will presently appear. Mechanical generators
of electricity were comparatively new at that time;
their theory and practice were very imperfectly understood;
indeed, it is quite within the bounds of truth to say that the
correct principles were befogged by reason of the lack of
practical knowledge of their actual use. Electricians and
scientists of the period had been accustomed for many years
past to look to the chemical battery as the source from
which to obtain electrical energy; and in the practical
application of such energy to telegraphy and kindred uses,
much thought and ingenuity had been expended in studying
combinations of connecting such cells so as to get the
best results. In the text-books of the period it was stated
as a settled principle that, in order to obtain the maximum
work out of a set of batteries, the internal resistance must
approximately equal the resistance of the exterior circuit.
This principle and its application in practice were quite correct
as regards chemical batteries, but not as regards dynamo
machines. Both were generators of electrical current, but
so different in construction and operation, that rules applicable
to the practical use of the one did not apply with
proper commercial efficiency to the other. At the period
under consideration, which may be said to have been just
before dawn of the day of electric light, the philosophy of
the dynamo was seen only in mysterious, hazy outlines--
just emerging from the darkness of departing night. Perhaps
it is not surprising, then, that the dynamo was loosely
regarded by electricians as the practical equivalent of a
chemical battery; that many of the characteristics of performance
of the chemical cell were also attributed to it, and
that if the maximum work could be gotten out of a set of
batteries when the internal and external resistances were
equal (and this was commercially the best thing to do), so
must it be also with a dynamo.

It was by no miracle that Edison was far and away ahead
of his time when he undertook to improve the dynamo. He
was possessed of absolute KNOWLEDGE far beyond that of his
contemporaries. This he ad acquired by the hardest kind
of work and incessant experiment with magnets of all kinds
during several years preceding, particularly in connection
with his study of automatic telegraphy. His knowledge of
magnets was tremendous. He had studied and experimented
with electromagnets in enormous variety, and
knew their peculiarities in charge and discharge, lag, self-
induction, static effects, condenser effects, and the various
other phenomena connected therewith. He had also made
collateral studies of iron, steel, and copper, insulation, winding,
etc. Hence, by reason of this extensive work and knowledge,
Edison was naturally in a position to realize the utter
commercial impossibility of the then best dynamo machine
in existence, which had an efficiency of only about 40 per
cent., and was constructed on the "cut-and-try" principle.

He was also naturally in a position to assume the task he
set out to accomplish, of undertaking to plan and-build an
improved type of machine that should be commercial in hav-
ing an efficiency of at least 90 per cent. Truly a prodigious
undertaking in those dark days, when from the standpoint
of Edison's large experience the most practical and correct
electrical treatise was contained in the Encyclopaedia Britannica,
and in a German publication which Mr. Upton had
brought with him after he had finished his studies with the
illustrious Helmholtz. It was at this period that Mr. Upton
commenced his association with Edison, bringing to the great
work the very latest scientific views and the assistance of
the higher mathematics, to which he had devoted his attention
for several years previously.

As some account of Edison's investigations in this connection
has already been given in Chapter XII of the narrative,
we shall not enlarge upon them here, but quote from
An Historical Review, by Charles L. Clarke, Laboratory
Assistant at Menlo Park, 1880-81; Chief Engineer of the
Edison Electric Light Company, 1881-84:


"In June, 1879, was published the account of the Edison
dynamo-electric machine that survived in the art. This
machine went into extensive commercial use, and was notable
for its very massive and powerful field-magnets and
armature of extremely low resistance as compared with the
combined external resistance of the supply-mains and lamps.
By means of the large masses of iron in the field-magnets,
and closely fitted joints between the several parts thereof,
the magnetic resistance (reluctance) of the iron parts of the
magnetic circuit was reduced to a minimum, and the required
magnetization effected with the maximum economy.
At the same time Mr. Edison announced the commercial
necessity of having the armature of the dynamo of low resistance,
as compared with the external resistance, in order
that a large percentage of the electrical energy developed
should be utilized in the lamps, and only a small percentage
lost in the armature, albeit this procedure reduced the total
generating capacity of the machine. He also proposed to
make the resistance of the supply-mains small, as compared
with the combined resistance of the lamps in multiple arc,
in order to still further increase the percentage of energy
utilized in the lamps. And likewise to this end the combined
resistance of the generator armatures in multiple arc
was kept relatively small by adjusting the number of generators
operating in multiple at any time to the number of lamps
then in use. The field-magnet circuits of the dynamos were
connected in multiple with a separate energizing source;
and the field-current; and strength of field, were regulated
to maintain the required amount of electromotive force
upon the supply-mains under all conditions of load from the
maximum to the minimum number of lamps in use, and to
keep the electromotive force of all machines alike."


Among the earliest of Edison's dynamo experiments were
those relating to the core of the armature. He realized at
once that the heat generated in a solid core was a prolific
source of loss. He experimented with bundles of iron wires
variously insulated, also with sheet-iron rolled cylindrically
and covered with iron wire wound concentrically. These
experiments and many others were tried in a great variety
of ways, until, as the result of all this work, Edison arrived
at the principle which has remained in the art to this day.
He split up the iron core of the armature into thin laminations,
separated by paper, thus practically suppressing Foucault
currents therein and resulting heating effect. It was
in his machine also that mica was used for the first time as
an insulating medium in a commutator.[27]


[27] The commercial manufacture of built-up sheets of mica for electrical
purposes was first established at the Edison Machine Works, Goerck Street,
New York, in 1881.


Elementary as these principles will appear to the modern
student or engineer, they were denounced as nothing short
of absurdity at the time of their promulgation--especially
so with regard to Edison's proposal to upset the then settled
dictum that the armature resistance should be equal to the
external resistance. His proposition was derided in the
technical press of the period, both at home and abroad. As
public opinion can be best illustrated by actual quotation,
we shall present a characteristic instance.


In the Scientific American of October 18, 1879, there appeared
an illustrated article by Mr. Upton on Edison's
dynamo machine, in which Edison's views and claims were
set forth. A subsequent issue contained a somewhat acri-
monious letter of criticism by a well-known maker of dynamo
machines. At the risk of being lengthy, we must quote
nearly all this letter: "I can scarcely conceive it as possible
that the article on the above subject "(Edison's Electric
Generator)" in last week's Scientific American could have
been written from statements derived from Mr. Edison himself,
inasmuch as so many of the advantages claimed for
the machine described and statements of the results obtained
are so manifestly absurd as to indicate on the part of both
writer and prompter a positive want of knowledge of the
electric circuit and the principles governing the construction
and operation of electric machines.

"It is not my intention to criticise the design or construction
of the machine (not because they are not open to
criticism), as I am now and have been for many years engaged
in the manufacture of electric machines, but rather
to call attention to the impossibility of obtaining the described
results without destroying the doctrine of the conservation
and correlation of forces.

 . . . . .

"It is stated that `the internal resistance of the armature'
of this machine `is only  1/2 ohm.' On this fact and the
disproportion between this resistance and that of the external
circuit, the theory of the alleged efficiency of the
machine is stated to be based, for we are informed that,
`while this generator in general principle is the same as in
the best well-known forms, still there is an all-important
difference, which is that it will convert and deliver for useful
work nearly double the number of foot-pounds that any
other machine will under like conditions.' " The writer of
this critical letter then proceeds to quote Mr. Upton's statement
of this efficiency: "`Now the energy converted is distributed
over the whole resistance, hence if the resistance of
the machine be represented by 1 and the exterior circuit by
9, then of the total energy converted nine-tenths will be
useful, as it is outside of the machine, and one-tenth is lost
in the resistance of the machine.'"

After this the critic goes on to say:

"How any one acquainted with the laws of the electric
circuit can make such statements is what I cannot understand.
The statement last quoted is mathematically absurd.
It implies either that the machine is CAPABLE OF INCREASING
ITS OWN ELECTROMOTIVE FORCE NINE TIMES WITHOUT AN INCREASED
EXPENDITURE OF POWER, or that external resistance is
NOT resistance to the current induced in the Edison machine.

"Does Mr. Edison, or any one for him, mean to say that
r/n enables him to obtain nE, and that C IS NOT = E / (r/n + R)?
If so
Mr. Edison has discovered something MORE than perpetual
motion, and Mr. Keely had better retire from the field.

"Further on the writer (Mr. Upton) gives us another example
of this mode of reasoning when, emboldened and
satisfied with the absurd theory above exposed, he endeavors
to prove the cause of the inefficiency of the Siemens and
other machines. Couldn't the writer of the article see that
since C = E/(r + R) that by R/n or by making R = r, the machine
would, according to his theory, have returned more useful
current to the circuit than could be due to the power employed
(and in the ratio indicated), so that there would
actually be a creation of force!
 . . . . . . .

"In conclusion allow me to say that if Mr Edison thinks
he has accomplished so much by the REDUCTION OF THE INTERNAL
RESISTANCE of his machine, that he has much more to do in
this direction before his machine will equal IN THIS RESPECT
others already in the market."

Another participant in the controversy on Edison's generator
was a scientific gentleman, who in a long article published
in the Scientific American, in November, 1879, gravely
undertook to instruct Edison in the A B C of electrical
principles, and then proceeded to demonstrate mathematically
the IMPOSSIBILITY of doing WHAT EDISON HAD ACTUALLY DONE. This
critic concludes with a gentle rebuke to the inventor for ill-
timed jesting, and a suggestion to furnish AUTHENTIC information!

In the light of facts, as they were and are, this article is
so full of humor that we shall indulge in a few quotations
It commences in A B C fashion as follows: "Electric machines
convert mechanical into electrical energy.... The
ratio of yield to consumption is the expression of the efficiency
of the machine.... How many foot-pounds of elec-
tricity can be got out of 100 foot-pounds of mechanical
energy? Certainly not more than 100: certainly less....
The facts and laws of physics, with the assistance of mathematical
logic, never fail to furnish precious answers to
such questions."

The would-be critic then goes on to tabulate tests of certain
other dynamo machines by a committee of the Franklin
Institute in 1879, the results of which showed that these
machines returned about 50 per cent. of the applied mechanical
energy, ingenuously remarking: "Why is it that
when we have produced the electricity, half of it must slip
away? Some persons will be content if they are told simply
that it is a way which electricity has of behaving. But there
is a satisfactory rational explanation which I believe can be
made plain to persons of ordinary intelligence. It ought to
be known to all those who are making or using machines.
I am grieved to observe that many persons who talk and
write glibly about electricity do not understand it; some even
ignore or deny the fact to be explained."

Here follows HIS explanation, after which he goes on to
say: "At this point plausibly comes in a suggestion that the
internal part of the circuit be made very small and the external
part very large. Why not (say) make the internal
part 1 and the external 9, thus saving nine-tenths and losing
only one-tenth? Unfortunately, the suggestion is not practical;
a fallacy is concealed in it."

He then goes on to prove his case mathematically, to his
own satisfaction, following it sadly by condoling with and
a warning to Edison: "But about Edison's electric generator!
. . . No one capable of making the improvements in the
telegraph and telephone, for which we are indebted to Mr.
Edison, could be other than an accomplished electrician.
His reputation as a scientist, indeed, is smirched by the newspaper
exaggerations, and no doubt he will be more careful
in future. But there is a danger nearer home, indeed, among
his own friends and in his very household.

". . . The writer of page 242" (the original article) "is
probably a friend of Mr. Edison, but possibly, alas! a wicked
partner. Why does he say such things as these? `Mr. Edison
claims that he realizes 90 per cent. of the power applied
to this machine in external work.' . . . Perhaps the writer
is a humorist, and had in his mind Colonel Sellers, etc.,
which he could not keep out of a serious discussion; but
such jests are not good.

"Mr. Edison has built a very interesting machine, and he
has the opportunity of making a valuable contribution to
the electrical arts by furnishing authentic accounts of its
capabilities."

The foregoing extracts are unavoidably lengthy, but,
viewed in the light of facts, serve to illustrate most clearly
that Edison's conceptions and work were far and away ahead
of the comprehension of his contemporaries in the art, and
that his achievements in the line of efficient dynamo design
and construction were indeed truly fundamental and revolutionary
in character. Much more of similar nature to the
above could be quoted from other articles published elsewhere,
but the foregoing will serve as instances generally
representing all. In the controversy which appeared in the
columns of the Scientific American, Mr. Upton, Edison's
mathematician, took up the question on his side, and answered
the critics by further elucidations of the principles
on which Edison had founded such remarkable and radical
improvements in the art. The type of Edison's first dynamo-
electric machine, the description of which gave rise to the
above controversy, is shown in Fig. 1.

Any account of Edison's work on the dynamo would be
incomplete did it omit to relate his conception and construction
of the great direct-connected steam-driven generator
that was the prototype of the colossal units which are
used throughout the world to-day.

In the demonstrating plant installed and operated by him
at Menlo Park in 1880 ten dynamos of eight horse-power
each were driven by a slow-speed engine through a complicated
system of counter-shafting, and, to quote from Mr.
Clarke's Historical Review, "it was found that a considerable
percentage of the power of the engine was necessarily wasted
in friction by this method of driving, and to prevent this
waste and thus increase the economy of his system, Mr. Edison
conceived the idea of substituting a single large dynamo
for the several small dynamos, and directly coupling it with
the driving engine, and at the same time preserve the requisite
high armature speed by using an engine of the high-
speed type. He also expected to realize still further gains
in economy from the use of a large dynamo in place of several
small machines by a more than correspondingly lower
armature resistance, less energy for magnetizing the field,
and for other minor reasons. To the same end, he intended
to supply steam to the engine under a much higher boiler
pressure than was customary in stationary-engine driving
at that time."

The construction of the first one of these large machines
was commenced late in the year 1880. Early in 1881 it was
completed and tested, but some radical defects in armature
construction were developed, and it was also demonstrated
that a rate of engine speed too high for continuously safe
and economical operation had been chosen. The machine
was laid aside. An accurate illustration of this machine, as
it stood in the engine-room at Menlo Park, is given in Van
Nostrand's Engineering Magazine, Vol. XXV, opposite page
439, and a brief description is given on page 450.

With the experience thus gained, Edison began, in the
spring of 1881, at the Edison Machine Works, Goerck Street,
New York City, the construction of the first successful machine
of this type. This was the great machine known as
"Jumbo No. 1," which is referred to in the narrative as having
been exhibited at the Paris International Electrical Exposition,
where it was regarded as the wonder of the electrical
world. An intimation of some of the tremendous difficulties
encountered in the construction of this machine has already
been given in preceding pages, hence we shall not now enlarge
on the subject, except to note in passing that the terribly
destructive effects of the spark of self-induction and
the arcing following it were first manifested in this powerful
machine, but were finally overcome by Edison after a strenuous
application of his powers to the solution of the problem.

It may be of interest, however, to mention some of its
dimensions and electrical characteristics, quoting again from
Mr. Clarke: "The field-magnet had eight solid cylindrical
cores, 8 inches in diameter and 57 inches long, upon each of
which was wound an exciting-coil of 3.2 ohms resistance,
consisting of 2184 turns of No. 10 B. W. G. insulated copper
wire, disposed in six layers. The laminated iron core of the
armature, formed of thin iron disks, was 33 3/4 inches long,
and had an internal diameter of 12 1/2 inches, and an external
diameter of 26 7/16 inches. It was mounted on a 6-inch shaft.
The field-poles were 33 3/4 inches long, and 27 1/2 inches inside
diameter The armature winding consisted of 146 copper
bars on the face of the core, connected into a closed-coil
winding by means of 73 copper disks at each end of the core.
The cross-sectional area of each bar was 0.2 square inch
their average length was 42.7 inches, and the copper end-
disks were 0.065 inch thick. The commutator had 73 sec-
tions. The armature resistance was 0.0092 ohm,[28] of which
0.0055 ohm was in the armature bars and 0.0037 ohm in the
end-disks." An illustration of the next latest type of this
machine is presented in Fig. 2.


[28] Had Edison in Upton's Scientific American article in 1879 proposed
such an exceedingly low armature resistance for this immense generator
(although its ratio was proportionate to the original machine),
his critics might probably have been sufficiently indignant
as to be unable to express themselves coherently.


The student may find it interesting to look up Edison's
United States Patents Nos. 242,898, 263,133, 263,146, and
246,647, bearing upon the construction of the "Jumbo";
also illustrated articles in the technical journals of the time,
among which may be mentioned: Scientific American, Vol.
XLV, page 367; Engineering, London, Vol. XXXII, pages
409 and 419, The Telegraphic Journal and Electrical Review,
London, Vol. IX, pages 431-433, 436-446; La Nature, Paris,
9th year, Part II, pages 408-409; Zeitschrift fur Angewandte
Elektricitaatslehre, Munich and Leipsic, Vol. IV, pages 4-14;
and Dredge's Electric Illumination, 1882, Vol. I, page 261.

The further development of these great machines later on,
and their extensive practical use, are well known and need
no further comment, except in passing it may be noted that
subsequent machines had each a capacity of 1200 lamps of
16 candle-power, and that the armature resistance was still
further reduced to 0.0039 ohm.

Edison's clear insight into the future, as illustrated by his
persistent advocacy of large direct-connected generating
units, is abundantly vindicated by present-day practice.
His Jumbo machines, of 175 horse-power, so enormous for
their time, have served as prototypes, and have been succeeded
by generators which have constantly grown in size
and capacity until at this time (1910) it is not uncommon
to employ such generating units of a capacity of 14,000 kilowatts,
or about 18,666 horse-power.

We have not entered into specific descriptions of the
many other forms of dynamo machines invented by Edison,
such as the multipolar, the disk dynamo, and the armature
with two windings, for sub-station distribution; indeed, it is
not possible within our limited space to present even a brief
digest of Edison's great and comprehensive work on the
dynamo-electric machine, as embodied in his extensive ex-
periments and in over one hundred patents granted to him.
We have, therefore, confined ourselves to the indication of
a few salient and basic features, leaving it to the interested
student to examine the patents and the technical literature
of the long period of time over which Edison's labors
were extended.

Although he has not given any attention to the subject
of generators for many years, an interesting instance of his
incisive method of overcoming minor difficulties occurred
while the present volumes were under preparation (1909).
Carbon for commutator brushes has been superseded by
graphite in some cases, the latter material being found much
more advantageous, electrically. Trouble developed, however,
for the reason that while carbon was hard and would
wear away the mica insulation simultaneously with the
copper, graphite, being softer, would wear away only the
copper, leaving ridges of mica and thus causing sparking
through unequal contact. At this point Edison was asked
to diagnose the trouble and provide a remedy. He suggested
the cutting out of the mica pieces almost to the bottom,
leaving the commutator bars separated by air-spaces.
This scheme was objected to on the ground that particles
of graphite would fill these air-spaces and cause a short-
circuit. His answer was that the air-spaces constituted the
value of his plan, as the particles of graphite falling into them
would be thrown out by the action of centrifugal force as the
commutator revolved. And thus it occurred as a matter of
fact, and the trouble was remedied. This idea was subsequently
adopted by a great manufacturer of generators.



XI

THE EDISON FEEDER SYSTEM

TO quote from the preamble of the specifications of United
States Patent No. 264,642, issued to Thomas A. Edison
September 19, 1882: "This invention relates to a method
of equalizing the tension or `pressure' of the current through
an entire system of electric lighting or other translation of
electric force, preventing what is ordinarily known as a
`drop' in those portions of the system the more remote from
the central station...."

The problem which was solved by the Edison feeder
system was that relating to the equal distribution of current
on a large scale over extended areas, in order that a constant
and uniform electrical pressure could be maintained in every
part of the distribution area without prohibitory expenditure
for copper for mains and conductors.

This problem had a twofold aspect, although each side
was inseparably bound up in the other. On the one hand
it was obviously necessary in a lighting system that each
lamp should be of standard candle-power, and capable of
interchangeable use on any part of the system, giving the
same degree of illumination at every point, whether near to
or remote from the source of electrical energy. On the other
hand, this must be accomplished by means of a system of
conductors so devised and arranged that while they would
insure the equal pressure thus demanded, their mass and
consequent cost would not exceed the bounds of practical
and commercially economical investment.

The great importance of this invention can be better understood
and appreciated by a brief glance at the state of the
art in 1878-79, when Edison was conducting the final series
of investigations which culminated in his invention of the
incandescent lamp and SYSTEM of lighting. At this time, and
for some years previously, the scientific world had been working
on the "subdivision of the electric light," as it was then
termed. Some leading authorities pronounced it absolutely
impossible of achievement on any extended scale, while a
very few others, of more optimistic mind, could see no gleam
of light through the darkness, but confidently hoped for
future developments by such workers as Edison.

The earlier investigators, including those up to the period
above named, thought of the problem as involving the subdivision
of a FIXED UNIT of current, which, being sufficient to
cause illumination by one large lamp, might be divided into
a number of small units whose aggregate light would equal
the candle-power of this large lamp. It was found, however,
in their experiments that the contrary effect was produced,
for with every additional lamp introduced in the
circuit the total candle-power decreased instead of increasing.
If they were placed in series the light varied inversely as
the SQUARE of the number of lamps in circuit; while if they
were inserted in multiple arc, the light diminished as the
CUBE of the number in circuit.[29] The idea of maintaining a
constant potential and of PROPORTIONING THE CURRENT to the
number of lamps in circuit did not occur to most of these
early investigators as a feasible method of overcoming the
supposed difficulty.


[29] M. Fontaine, in his book on Electric Lighting (1877), showed that with
the current of a battery composed of sixteen elements, one lamp gave an
illumination equal to 54 burners; whereas two similar lamps, if introduced
in parallel or multiple arc, gave the light of only 6 1/2 burners in all;
three lamps of only 2 burners in all; four lamps of only 3/4 of one burner,
and five lamps of  1/4  of a burner.


It would also seem that although the general method of
placing experimental lamps in multiple arc was known at
this period, the idea of "drop" of electrical pressure was
imperfectly understood, if, indeed, realized at all, as a most
important item to be considered in attempting the solution
of the problem. As a matter of fact, the investigators preceding
Edison do not seem to have conceived the idea of a
"system" at all; hence it is not surprising to find them far
astray from the correct theory of subdivision of the electric
current. It may easily be believed that the term "subdivision"
was a misleading one to these early experimenters.
For a very short time Edison also was thus misled, but as
soon as he perceived that the problem was one involving the
MULTIPLICATION OF CURRENT UNITS, his broad conception of a
"system" was born.

Generally speaking, all conductors of electricity offer more
or less resistance to the passage of current through them
and in the technical terminology of electrical science the
word "drop" (when used in reference to a system of distribution)
is used to indicate a fall or loss of initial electrical
pressure arising from the resistance offered by the copper
conductors leading from the source of energy to the lamps.
The result of this resistance is to convert or translate a
portion of the electrical energy into another form--namely,
heat, which in the conductors is USELESS and wasteful and to
some extent inevitable in practice, but is to be avoided and
remedied as far as possible.

It is true that in an electric-lighting system there is also
a fall or loss of electrical pressure which occurs in overcoming
the much greater resistance of the filament in an
incandescent lamp. In this case there is also a translation
of the energy, but here it accomplishes a USEFUL purpose, as
the energy is converted into the form of light through the
incandescence of the filament. Such a conversion is called
"work" as distinguished from "drop," although a fall of
initial electrical pressure is involved in each case.

The percentage of "drop" varies according to the quantity
of copper used in conductors, both as to cross-section and
length. The smaller the cross-sectional area, the greater the
percentage of drop. The practical effect of this drop would
be a loss of illumination in the lamps as we go farther away
from the source of energy. This may be illustrated by a
simple diagram in which G is a generator, or source of energy,
furnishing current at a potential or electrical pressure of
110 volts; 1 and 2 are main conductors, from which 110-volt
lamps, L, are taken in derived circuits. It will be understood
that the circuits represented in Fig. 1 are theoretically
supposed to extend over a large area. The main conductors
are sufficiently large in cross-section to offer but little
resistance in those parts which are comparatively near the
generator, but as the current traverses their extended
length there is a gradual increase of resistance to overcome,
and consequently the drop increases, as shown by the figures.
The result of the drop in such a case would be that while the
two lamps, or groups, nearest the generator would be burning
at their proper degree of illumination, those beyond would
give lower and lower candle-power, successively, until the
last lamp, or group, would be giving only about two-thirds
the light of the first two. In other words, a very slight drop
in voltage means a disproportionately great loss in illumination.
Hence, by using a primitive system of distribution,
such as that shown by Fig. 1, the initial voltage would have
to be so high, in order to obtain the proper candle-power at
the end of the circuit, that the lamps nearest the generator
would be dangerously overheated. It might be suggested
as a solution of this problem that lamps of different voltages
could be used. But, as we are considering systems of extended
distribution employing vast numbers of lamps (as in
New York City, where millions are in use), it will be seen that
such a method would lead to inextricable confusion, and
therefore be absolutely out of the question. Inasmuch as
the percentage of drop decreases in proportion to the increased
cross-section of the conductors, the only feasible plan
would seem to be to increase their size to such dimensions
as to eliminate the drop altogether, beginning with conductors
of large cross-section and tapering off as necessary.
This would, indeed, obviate the trouble, but, on the other
hand, would give rise to a much more serious difficulty--
namely, the enormous outlay for copper; an outlay so great
as to be absolutely prohibitory in considering the electric
lighting of large districts, as now practiced.

Another diagram will probably make this more clear.
The reference figures are used as before, except that the
horizontal lines extending from square marked G represent
the main conductors. As each lamp requires and takes its
own proportion of the total current generated, it is obvious
that the size of the conductors to carry the current for a
number of lamps must be as large as the sum of ALL the
separate conductors which would be required to carry the
necessary amount of current to each lamp separately.
Hence, in a primitive multiple-arc system, it was found that
the system must have conductors of a size equal to the
aggregate of the individual conductors necessary for every
lamp. Such conductors might either be separate, as shown
above (Fig. 2), or be bunched together, or made into a solid
tapering conductor, as shown in the following figure:

The enormous mass of copper needed in such a system
can be better appreciated by a concrete example. Some
years ago Mr. W. J. Jenks made a comparative calculation
which showed that such a system of conductors (known as
the "Tree" system), to supply 8640 lamps in a territory
extending over so small an area as nine city blocks, would
require 803,250 pounds of copper, which at the then price of
25 cents per pound would cost $200,812.50!

Such, in brief, was the state of the art, generally speaking,
at the period above named (1878-79). As early in the art
as the latter end of the year 1878, Edison had developed his
ideas sufficiently to determine that the problem of electric
illumination by small units could be solved by using incandescent
lamps of high resistance and small radiating surface,
and by distributing currents of constant potential
thereto in multiple arc by means of a ramification of conductors,
starting from a central source and branching therefrom
in every direction. This was an equivalent of the
method illustrated in Fig. 3, known as the "Tree" system,
and was, in fact, the system used by Edison in the first and
famous exhibition of his electric light at Menlo Park around
the Christmas period of 1879. He realized, however, that
the enormous investment for copper would militate against
the commercial adoption of electric lighting on an extended
scale. His next inventive step covered the division of a large
city district into a number of small sub-stations supplying
current through an interconnected network of conductors, thus
reducing expenditure for copper to some extent, because each
distribution unit was small and limited the drop.

His next development was the radical advancement of the
state of the art to the feeder system, covered by the patent
now under discussion. This invention swept away the tree and
other systems, and at one bound brought into being the possibility
of effectively distributing large currents over extended
areas with a commercially reasonable investment for copper.

The fundamental principles of this invention were, first,
to sever entirely any direct connection of the main conductors
with the source of energy; and, second, to feed current
at a constant potential to central points in such main
conductors by means of other conductors, called "feeders,"
which were to be connected directly with the source of energy
at the central station. This idea will be made more clear by
reference to the following simple diagram, in which the same
letters are used as before, with additions:

In further elucidation of the diagram, it may be considered
that the mains are laid in the street along a city
block, more or less distant from the station, while the feeders
are connected at one end with the source of energy at the
station, their other extremities being connected to the mains
at central points of distribution. Of course, this system
was intended to be applied in every part of a district to be
supplied with current, separate sets of feeders running out
from the station to the various centres. The distribution
mains were to be of sufficiently large size that between their
most extreme points the loss would not be more than 3 volts.
Such a slight difference would not make an appreciable
variation in the candle-power of the lamps.

By the application of these principles, the inevitable but
useless loss, or "drop," required by economy might be incurred,
but was LOCALIZED IN THE FEEDERS, where it would not
affect the uniformity of illumination of the lamps in any of
the circuits, whether near to or remote from the station,
because any variations of loss in the feeders would not give
rise to similar fluctuations in any lamp circuit. The feeders
might be operated at any desired percentage of loss that
would realize economy in copper, so long as they delivered
current to the main conductors at the potential represented
by the average voltage of the lamps.

Thus the feeders could be made comparatively small in
cross-section. It will be at once appreciated that, inasmuch
as the mains required to be laid ONLY along the blocks to be
lighted, and were not required to be run all the way to the
central station (which might be half a mile or more away),
the saving of copper by Edison's feeder system was enormous.
Indeed, the comparative calculation of Mr. Jenks,
above referred to, shows that to operate the same number
of lights in the same extended area of territory, the feeder
system would require only 128,739 pounds of copper, which,
at the then price of 25 cents per pound, would cost only
$39,185, or A SAVING of $168,627.50 for copper in this very
small district of only nine blocks.

An additional illustration, appealing to the eye, is
presented in the following sketch, in which the comparative
masses of copper of the tree and feeder systems for carrying
the same current are shown side by side:



XII

THE THREE-WIRE SYSTEM

THIS invention is covered by United States Patent No.
274,290, issued to Edison on March 20, 1883. The object
of the invention was to provide for increased economy in the
quantity of copper employed for the main conductors in
electric light and power installations of considerable extent
at the same time preserving separate and independent control
of each lamp, motor, or other translating device, upon
any one of the various distribution circuits.

Immediately prior to this invention the highest state of
the art of electrical distribution was represented by Edison's
feeder system, which has already been described as a straight
parallel or multiple-arc system wherein economy of copper
was obtained by using separate sets of conductors--minus
load--feeding current at standard potential or electrical
pressure into the mains at centres of distribution.

It should be borne in mind that the incandescent lamp
which was accepted at the time as a standard (and has so
remained to the present day) was a lamp of 110 volts or
thereabouts. In using the word "standard," therefore, it
is intended that the same shall apply to lamps of about that
voltage, as well as to electrical circuits of the approximate
potential to operate them.

Briefly stated, the principle involved in the three-wire
system is to provide main circuits of double the standard
potential, so as to operate standard lamps, or other translating
devices, in multiple series of two to each series; and
for the purpose of securing independent, individual control
of each unit, to divide each main circuit into any desired
number of derived circuits of standard potential (properly
balanced) by means of a central compensating conductor
which would be normally neutral, but designed to carry any
minor excess of current that might flow by reason of any
temporary unbalancing of either side of the main circuit.

Reference to the following diagrams will elucidate this
principle more clearly than words alone can do. For the
purpose of increased lucidity we will first show a plain
multiple-series system.

In this diagram G<1S> and G<2S> represent two generators, each
producing current at a potential of 110 volts. By connect-
ing them in series this potential is doubled, thus providing
a main circuit (P and N) of 220 volts. The figures marked
L represent eight lamps of 110 volts each, in multiple series
of two, in four derived circuits. The arrows indicate the
flow of current. By this method each pair of lamps takes,
together, only the same quantity or volume of current
required by a single lamp in a simple multiple-arc system;
and, as the cross-section of a conductor depends upon the
quantity of current carried, such an arrangement as the
above would allow the use of conductors of only one-fourth
the cross-section that would be otherwise required. From
the standpoint of economy of investment such an arrangement
would be highly desirable, but considered commercially
it is impracticable because the principle of independent
control of each unit would be lost, as the turning out of a lamp
in any series would mean the extinguishment of its
companion also. By referring to the diagram it will be seen
that each series of two forms one continuous path between
the main conductors, and if this path be broken at any one
point current will immediately cease to flow in that particular
series.

Edison, by his invention of the three-wire system, over-
came this difficulty entirely, and at the same time conserved
approximately, the saving of copper, as will be apparent
from the following illustration of that system, in its simplest
form.

The reference figures are similar to those in the preceding
diagram, and all conditions are also alike except that a
central compensating, or balancing, conductor, PN, is here
introduced. This is technically termed the "neutral" wire,
and in the discharge of its functions lies the solution of the
problem of economical distribution. Theoretically, a three-
wire installation is evenly balanced by wiring for an equal
number of lamps on both sides. If all these lamps were
always lighted, burned, and extinguished simultaneously the
central conductor would, in fact, remain neutral, as there
would be no current passing through it, except from lamp
to lamp. In practice, however, no such perfect conditions
can obtain, hence the necessity of the provision for balancing
in order to maintain the principle of independent control of
each unit.

It will be apparent that the arrangement shown in Fig. 2
comprises practically two circuits combined in one system,
in which the central conductor, PN, in case of emergency,
serves in two capacities--namely, as negative to generator
G<1S> or as positive to generator G<2S>, although normally neutral.
There are two sides to the system, the positive side being
represented by the conductors P and PN, and the negative
side by the conductors PN and N. Each side, if considered
separately, has a potential of about 110 volts, yet the potential
of the two outside conductors, P and N, is 220 volts.
The lamps are 110 volts.

In practical use the operation of the system is as follows:
If all the lamps were lighted the current would flow along
P and through each pair of lamps to N, and so back to the
source of energy. In this case the balance is preserved and
the central wire remains neutral, as no return current flows
through it to the source of energy. But let us suppose that
one lamp on the positive side is extinguished. None of the
other lamps is affected thereby, but the system is immediately
thrown out of balance, and on the positive side there
is an excess of current to this extent which flows along or
through the central conductor and returns to the generator,
the central conductor thus becoming the negative of that
side of the system for the time being. If the lamp extinguished
had been one of those on the negative side of the
system results of a similar nature would obtain, except that
the central conductor would for the time being become the
positive of that side, and the excess of current would flow
through the negative, N, back to the source of energy. Thus
it will be seen that a three-wire system, considered as a
whole, is elastic in that it may operate as one when in balance
and as two when unbalanced, but in either event giving independent
control of each unit.

For simplicity of illustration a limited number of circuits,
shown in Fig. 2, has been employed. In practice, however,
where great numbers of lamps are in use (as, for instance,
in New York City, where about 7,000,000 lamps are operated
from various central stations), there is constantly occurring
more or less change in the balance of many circuits extending
over considerable distances, but of course there is a net
result which is always on one side of the system or the other
for the time being, and this is met by proper adjustment at
the appropriate generator in the station.

In order to make the explanation complete, there is presented
another diagram showing a three-wire system unbalanced:

The reference figures are used as before, but in this case
the vertical lines represent branches taken from the main
conductors into buildings or other spaces to be lighted, and
the loops between these branch wires represent lamps in
operation. It will be seen from this sketch that there are
ten lamps on the positive side and twelve on the negative
side. Hence, the net result is an excess of current equal
to that required by two lamps flowing through the central
or compensating conductor, which is now acting as positive
to generator G<2S> The arrows show the assumed direction of
flow of current throughout the system, and the small figures
at the arrow-heads the volume of that current expressed in
the number of lamps which it supplies.

The commercial value of this invention may be appreciated
from the fact that by the application of its principles
there is effected a saving of 62 1/2 per cent. of the amount of
copper over that which would be required for conductors
in any previously devised two-wire system carrying the same
load. This arises from the fact that by the doubling of
potential the two outside mains are reduced to one-quarter
the cross-section otherwise necessary. A saving of 75 per
cent. would thus be assured, but the addition of a third, or
compensating, conductor of the same cross-section as one
of the outside mains reduces the total saving to 62 1/2 per cent.

The three-wire system is in universal use throughout the
world at the present day.



XIII

EDISON'S ELECTRIC RAILWAY

AS narrated in Chapter XVIII, there were two electric
railroads installed by Edison at Menlo Park--one in 1880,
originally a third of a mile long, but subsequently increased
to about a mile in length, and the other in 1882, about three
miles long. As the 1880 road was built very soon after
Edison's notable improvements in dynamo machines, and as
the art of operating them to the best advantage was then being
developed, this early road was somewhat crude as compared
with the railroad of 1882; but both were practicable and
serviceable for the purpose of hauling passengers and freight.
The scope of the present article will be confined to a
description of the technical details of these two installations.

The illustration opposite page 454 of the preceding narrative
shows the first Edison locomotive and train of 1880 at
Menlo Park.

For the locomotive a four-wheel iron truck was used, and
upon it was mounted one of the long "Z" type 110-volt
Edison dynamos, with a capacity of 75 amperes, which was
to be used as a motor. This machine was laid on its side,
its armature being horizontal and located toward the front
of the locomotive.

We now quote from an article by Mr. E. W. Hammer,
published in the Electrical World, New York, June 10, 1899,
and afterward elaborated and reprinted in a volume entitled
Edisonia, compiled and published under the auspices of a
committee of the Association of Edison Illuminating Companies,
in 1904: "The gearing originally employed consisted
of a friction-pulley upon the armature shaft, another friction-
pulley upon the driven axle, and a third friction-pulley which
could be brought in contact with the other two by a suitable
lever. Each wheel of the locomotive was made with 
metallic rim and a centre portion made of wood or papier-
mache. A three-legged spider connected the metal rim of
each front wheel to a brass hub, upon which rested a collecting
brush. The other wheels were subsequently so equipped.
It was the intention, therefore, that the current should enter
the locomotive wheels at one side, and after passing through
the metal spiders, collecting brushes and motor, would pass
out through the corresponding brushes, spiders, and wheels
to the other rail."

As to the road: "The rails were light and were spiked to
ordinary sleepers, with a gauge of about three and one-half
feet. The sleepers were laid upon the natural grade, and
there was comparatively no effort made to ballast the road.
. . . No special precautions were taken to insulate the rails
from the earth or from each other."

The road started about fifty feet away from the generating
station, which in this case was the machine shop. Two
of the "Z" type dynamos were used for generating the current,
which was conveyed to the two rails of the road by
underground conductors.

On Thursday, May 13, 1880, at 4 o'clock in the afternoon,
this historic locomotive made its first trip, packed with as
many of the "boys" as could possibly find a place to hang
on. "Everything worked to a charm, until, in starting up
at one end of the road, the friction gearing was brought into
action too suddenly and it was wrecked. This accident
demonstrated that some other method of connecting the
armature with the driven axle should be arranged.

"As thus originally operated, the motor had its field circuit
in permanent connection as a shunt across the rails,
and this field circuit was protected by a safety-catch made
by turning up two bare ends of the wire in its circuit and
winding a piece of fine copper wire across from one bare
end to the other. The armature circuit had a switch in it
which permitted the locomotive to be reversed by reversing
the direction of current flow through the armature.

"After some consideration of the gearing question, it was
decided to employ belts instead of the friction-pulleys."
Accordingly, Edison installed on the locomotive a system of
belting, including an idler-pulley which was used by means
of a lever to tighten the main driving-belt, and thus power
was applied to the driven axle. This involved some slipping
and consequent burning of belts; also, if the belt were
prematurely tightened, the burning-out of the armature. This
latter event happened a number of times, "and proved to
be such a serious annoyance that resistance-boxes were
brought out from the laboratory and placed upon the locomotive
in series with the armature. This solved the difficulty.
The locomotive would be started with these resistance-boxes
in circuit, and after reaching full speed the operator could
plug the various boxes out of circuit, and in that way increase
the speed." To stop, the armature circuit was opened
by the main switch and the brake applied.

This arrangement was generally satisfactory, but the
resistance-boxes scattered about the platform and foot-rests
being in the way, Edison directed that some No. 8 B. & S.
copper wire be wound on the lower leg of the motor field-
magnet. "By doing this the resistance was put where it
would take up the least room, and where it would serve as
an additional field-coil when starting the motor, and it
replaced all the resistance-boxes which had heretofore been
in plain sight. The boxes under the seat were still retained
in service. The coil of coarse wire was in series with the
armature, just as the resistance-boxes had been, and could
be plugged in or out of circuit at the will of the locomotive
driver. The general arrangement thus secured was operated
as long as this road was in commission."

On this short stretch of road there were many sharp curves
and steep grades, and in consequence of the high speed attained
(as high as forty-two miles an hour) several derailments
took place, but fortunately without serious results.
Three cars were in service during the entire time of operating
this 1880 railroad: one a flat-car for freight; one an open
car with two benches placed back to back; and the third
a box-car, familiarly known as the "Pullman." This latter
car had an interesting adjunct in an electric braking system
(covered by Edison's Patent No. 248,430). "Each car axle had
a large iron disk mounted on and revolving with it between
the poles of a powerful horseshoe electromagnet. The pole-
pieces of the magnet were movable, and would be attracted
to the revolving disk when the magnet was energized, grasping
the same and acting to retard the revolution of the car axle."

Interesting articles on Edison's first electric railroad were
published in the technical and other papers, among which
may be mentioned the New York Herald, May 15 and July
23, 1880; the New York Graphic, July 27, 1880; and the
Scientific American, June 6, 1880.

Edison's second electric railroad of 1882 was more pretentious
as regards length, construction, and equipment. It
was about three miles long, of nearly standard gauge, and
substantially constructed. Curves were modified, and grades
eliminated where possible by the erection of numerous
trestles. This road also had some features of conventional
railroads, such as sidings, turn-tables, freight platform, and
car-house. "Current was supplied to the road by underground
feeder cables from the dynamo-room of the laboratory.
The rails were insulated from the ties by giving them
two coats of japan, baking them in the oven, and then placing
them on pads of tar-impregnated muslin laid on the ties.
The ends of the rails were not japanned, but were electroplated,
to give good contact surfaces for fish-plates and copper
bonds."

The following notes of Mr. Frederick A. Scheffler, who designed
the passenger locomotive for the 1882 road, throw
an interesting light on its technical details:


"In May, 1881, I was engaged by Mr. M. F. Moore, who
was the first General Manager of the Edison Company for
Isolated Lighting, as a draftsman to undertake the work of
designing and building Edison's electric locomotive No. 2.

"Previous to that time I had been employed in the engineering
department of Grant Locomotive Works, Paterson,
New Jersey, and the Rhode Island Locomotive Works,
Providence, Rhode Island....

"It was Mr. Edison's idea, as I understood it at that time,
to build a locomotive along the general lines of steam locomotives
(at least, in outward appearance), and to combine
in that respect the framework, truck, and other parts
known to be satisfactory in steam locomotives at the same
time.

"This naturally required the services of a draftsman accustomed
to steam-locomotive practice.... Mr. Moore was
a man of great railroad and locomotive experience, and his
knowledge in that direction was of great assistance in the
designing and building of this locomotive.

"At that time I had no knowledge of electricity.... One
could count so-called electrical engineers on his fingers then,
and have some fingers left over.

"Consequently, the ELECTRICAL equipment was designed by
Mr. Edison and his assistants. The data and parts, such as
motor, rheostat, switches, etc., were given to me, and my
work was to design the supporting frame, axles, countershafts,
driving mechanism, speed control, wheels and boxes,
cab, running board, pilot (or `cow-catcher'), buffers, and even
supports for the headlight. I believe I also designed a bell
and supports. From this it will be seen that the locomotive
had all the essential paraphernalia to make it LOOK like a
steam locomotive.

"The principal part of the outfit was the electric motor.
At that time motors were curiosities. There were no electric
motors even for stationary purposes, except freaks built for
experimental uses. This motor was made from the parts--
such as fields, armature, commutator, shaft and bearings,
etc., of an Edison "Z," or 60-light dynamo. It was the only
size of dynamo that the Edison Company had marketed at
that time.... As a motor, it was wound to run at maximum
speed to develop a torque equal to about fifteen horse-power
with 220 volts. At the generating station at Menlo Park
four Z dynamos of 110 volts were used, connected two in
series, in multiple arc, giving a line voltage of 220.

"The motor was located in the front part of the locomotive,
on its side, with the armature shaft across the frames, or
parallel with the driving axles.

"On account of the high speed of the armature shaft it
was not possible to connect with driving-axles direct, but
this was an advantage in one way, as by introducing an
intermediate counter-shaft (corresponding to the well-known
type of double-reduction motor used on trolley-cars since
1885), a fairly good arrangement was obtained to regulate
the speed of the locomotive, exclusive of resistance in the
electric circuit.

"Endless leather belting was used to transmit the power
from the motor to the counter-shaft, and from the latter to
the driving-wheels, which were the front pair. A vertical
idler-pulley was mounted in a frame over the belt from
motor to counter-shaft, terminating in a vertical screw and
hand-wheel for tightening the belt to increase speed, or the
reverse to lower speed. This hand-wheel was located in the
cab, where it was easily accessible....

"The rough outline sketched below shows the location
of motor in relation to counter-shaft, belting, driving-wheels,
idler, etc.:

"On account of both rails being used for circuits, . . . the
driving-wheels had to be split circumferentially and completely
insulated from the axles. This was accomplished by
means of heavy wood blocks well shellacked or otherwise
treated to make them water and weather proof, placed radially
on the inside of the wheels, and then substantially bolted
to the hubs and rims of the latter.

"The weight of the locomotive was distributed over the
driving-wheels in the usual locomotive practice by means
of springs and equalizers.

"The current was taken from the rims of the driving-wheels
by a three-pronged collector of brass, against which flexible
copper brushes were pressed--a simple manner of overcoming
any inequalities of the road-bed.

"The late Mr. Charles T. Hughes was in charge of the
track construction at Menlo Park.... His work was excellent
throughout, and the results were highly satisfactory so far
as they could possibly be with the arrangement originally
planned by Mr. Edison and his assistants.

"Mr. Charles L. Clarke, one of the earliest electrical
engineers employed by Mr. Edison, made a number of tests
on this 1882 railroad. I believe that the engine driving the
four Z generators at the power-house indicated as high as
seventy horse-power at the time the locomotive was actually
in service."


The electrical features of the 1882 locomotive were very
similar to those of the earlier one, already described. Shunt
and series field-windings were added to the motor, and the
series windings could be plugged in and out of circuit as
desired. The series winding was supplemented by resistance-
boxes, also capable of being plugged in or out of circuit.
These various electrical features are diagrammatically shown
in Fig. 2, which also illustrates the connection with the
generating plant.

We quote again from Mr. Hammer, who says: "The freight-
locomotive had single reduction gears, as is the modern practice,
but the power was applied through a friction-clutch
The passenger-locomotive was very speedy, and ninety
passengers have been carried at a time by it; the freight-
locomotive was not so fast, but could pull heavy trains at a
good speed. Many thousand people were carried on this
road during 1882." The general appearance of Edison's
electric locomotive of 1882 is shown in the illustration
opposite page 462 of the preceding narrative. In the picture
Mr. Edison may be seen in the cab, and Mr. Insull on the
front platform of the passenger-car.



XIV

TRAIN TELEGRAPHY

WHILE the one-time art of telegraphing to and from moving
trains was essentially a wireless system, and allied in
some of its principles to the art of modern wireless telegraphy
through space, the two systems cannot, strictly speaking
be regarded as identical, as the practice of the former was
based entirely on the phenomenon of induction.

Briefly described in outline, the train telegraph system
consisted of an induction circuit obtained by laying strips
of metal along the top or roof of a railway-car, and the
installation of a special telegraph line running parallel with
the track and strung on poles of only medium height. The
train, and also each signalling station, was equipped with
regulation telegraph apparatus, such as battery, key, relay,
and sounder, together with induction-coil and condenser. In
addition, there was a special transmitting device in the shape
of a musical reed, or "buzzer." In practice, this buzzer was
continuously operated at a speed of about five hundred vibrations
per second by an auxiliary battery. Its vibrations were
broken by means of a telegraph key into long and short
periods, representing Morse characters, which were transmitted
inductively from the train circuit to the pole line
or vice versa, and received by the operator at the other end
through a high-resistance telephone receiver inserted in the
secondary circuit of the induction-coil.

The accompanying diagrammatic sketch of a simple form of
the system, as installed on a car, will probably serve to make
this more clear.

An insulated wire runs from the metallic layers on the
roof of the car to switch S, which is shown open in the sketch.
When a message is to be received on the car from a station
more or less remote, the switch is thrown to the left to con-
nect with a wire running to the telephone receiver, T. The
other wire from this receiver is run down to one of the axles
and there permanently connected, thus making a ground.
The operator puts the receiver to his ear and listens for the
message, which the telephone renders audible in the Morse
characters.

If a message is to be transmitted from the car to a receiving
station, near or distant, the switch, S, is thrown to the
other side, thus connecting with a wire leading to one end
of the secondary of induction-coil C. The other end of the
secondary is connected with the grounding wire. The primary
of the induction-coil is connected as shown, one end going
to key K and the other to the buzzer circuit. The other
side of the key is connected to the transmitting battery, while
the opposite pole of this battery is connected in the buzzer
circuit. The buzzer, R, is maintained in rapid vibration by
its independent auxiliary battery, B<1S>.

When the key is pressed down the circuit is closed, and
current from the transmitting battery, B, passes through
primary of the coil, C, and induces a current of greatly increased
potential in the secondary. The current as it passes
into the primary, being broken up into short impulses by
the tremendously rapid vibrations of the buzzer, induces
similarly rapid waves of high potential in the secondary, and
these in turn pass to the roof and thence through the intervening
air by induction to the telegraph wire. By a continued
lifting and depression of the key in the regular manner,
these waves are broken up into long and short periods,
and are thus transmitted to the station, via the wire, in
Morse characters, dots and dashes.

The receiving stations along the line of the railway were
similarly equipped as to apparatus, and, generally speaking
the operations of sending and receiving messages were
substantially the same as above described.

The equipment of an operator on a car was quite simple
consisting merely of a small lap-board, on which were
mounted the key, coil, and buzzer, leaving room for telegraph
blanks. To this board were also attached flexible conductors
having spring clips, by means of which connections
could be made quickly with conveniently placed terminals
of the ground, roof, and battery wires. The telephone receiver
was held on the head with a spring, the flexible connecting
wire being attached to the lap board, thus leaving the operator
with both hands free.

The system, as shown in the sketch and elucidated by
the text, represents the operation of train telegraphy in a
simple form, but combining the main essentials of the art
as it was successfully and commercially practiced for a number
of years after Edison and Gilliland entered the field.
They elaborated the system in various ways, making it more
complete; but it has not been deemed necessary to enlarge
further upon the technical minutiae of the art for the purpose
of this work.



XV

KINETOGRAPH AND PROJECTING KINETOSCOPE


ALTHOUGH many of the arts in which Edison has been a
pioneer have been enriched by his numerous inventions
and patents, which were subsequent to those of a fundamental
nature, the (so-called) motion-picture art is an exception,
as the following, together with three other additional patents[30]
comprise all that he has taken out on this subject:
United States Patent No. 589,168, issued August 31, 1897,
reissued in two parts--namely, No. 12,037, under date of
September 30,1902, and No. 12,192, under date of January
12, 1904. Application filed August 24, 1891.


[30] Not 491,993, issued February 21, 1893; No. 493,426,
issued March 14, 1893; No. 772,647, issued October 18, 1904.


There is nothing surprising in this, however, as the
possibility of photographing and reproducing actual scenes of
animate life are so thoroughly exemplified and rendered
practicable by the apparatus and methods disclosed in the
patents above cited, that these basic inventions in themselves
practically constitute the art--its development proceeding
mainly along the line of manufacturing details. That
such a view of his work is correct, the highest criterion--
commercial expediency--bears witness; for in spite of the
fact that the courts have somewhat narrowed the broad
claims of Edison's patents by reason of the investigations of
earlier experimenters, practically all the immense amount
of commercial work that is done in the motion-picture field
to-day is accomplished through the use of apparatus and
methods licensed under the Edison patents.

The philosophy of this invention having already been
described in Chapter XXI, it will be unnecessary to repeat
it here. Suffice it to say by way of reminder that it is
founded upon the physiological phenomenon known as the
persistence of vision, through which a series of sequential
photographic pictures of animate motion projected upon a
screen in rapid succession will reproduce to the eye all the
appearance of the original movements.

Edison's work in this direction comprised the invention
not only of a special form of camera for making original
photographic exposures from a single point of view with
very great rapidity, and of a machine adapted to effect the
reproduction of such pictures in somewhat similar manner
but also of the conception and invention of a continuous
uniform, and evenly spaced tape-like film, so absolutely
essential for both the above objects.

The mechanism of such a camera, as now used, consists of
many parts assembled in such contiguous proximity to each
other that an illustration from an actual machine would not
help to clearness of explanation to the general reader. Hence
a diagram showing a sectional view of a simple form of such
a camera is presented below.

In this diagram, A represents an outer light-tight box
containing a lens, C, and the other necessary mechanism
for making the photographic exposures, H<1S> and H<2S> being
cases for holding reels of film before and after exposure,
F the long, tape-like film, G a sprocket whose teeth engage
in perforations on the edges of the film, such sprocket being
adapted to be revolved with an intermittent or step-by-step
movement by hand or by motor, and B a revolving shutter
having an opening and connected by gears with G, and
arranged to expose the film during the periods of rest. A
full view of this shutter is also represented, with its opening,
D, in the small illustration to the right.

In practice, the operation would be somewhat as follows,
generally speaking: The lens would first be focussed on the
animate scene to be photographed. On turning the main
shaft of the camera the sprocket, G, is moved intermittently,
and its teeth, catching in the holes in the sensitized film,
draws it downward, bringing a new portion of its length in
front of the lens, the film then remaining stationary for an
instant. In the mean time, through gearing connecting the
main shaft with the shutter, the latter is rotated, bringing
its opening, D, coincident with the lens, and therefore exposing
the film while it is stationary, after which the film again
moves forward. So long as the action is continued these
movements are repeated, resulting in a succession of enormously
rapid exposures upon the film during its progress from
reel H<1S> to its automatic rewinding on reel H<2S>. While the
film is passing through the various parts of the machine it
is guided and kept straight by various sets of rollers between
which it runs, as indicated in the diagram.

By an ingenious arrangement of the mechanism, the film
moves intermittently so that it may have a much longer
period of rest than of motion. As in practice the pictures
are taken at a rate of twenty or more per second, it will be
quite obvious that each period of rest is infinitesimally brief,
being generally one-thirtieth of a second or less. Still it is
sufficient to bring the film to a momentary condition of complete
rest, and to allow for a maximum time of exposure,
comparatively speaking, thus providing means for taking
clearly defined pictures. The negatives so obtained are
developed in the regular way, and the positive prints
subsequently made from them are used for reproduction.

The reproducing machine, or, as it is called in practice, the
Projecting Kinetoscope, is quite similar so far as its general
operations in handling the film are concerned. In appearance
it is somewhat different; indeed, it is in two parts, the
one containing the lighting arrangements and condensing
lens, and the other embracing the mechanism and objective
lens. The "taking" camera must have its parts enclosed
in a light-tight box, because of the undeveloped, sensitized
film, but the projecting kinetoscope, using only a fully developed
positive film, may, and, for purposes of convenient
operation, must be accessibly open. The illustration (Fig. 2)
will show the projecting apparatus as used in practice.

The philosophy of reproduction is very simple, and is illustrated
diagrammatically in Fig. 3, reference letters being the
same as in Fig. 1. As to the additional reference letters, I is
a condenser J the source of light, and K a reflector.

The positive film is moved intermittently but swiftly
throughout its length between the objective lens and a beam
of light coming through the condenser, being exposed by the
shutter during the periods of rest. This results in a pro-
jection of the photographs upon a screen in such rapid succession
as to present an apparently continuous photograph
of the successive positions of the moving objects, which,
therefore, appear to the human eye to be in motion.

The first claim of Reissue Patent No. 12,192 describes the
film. It reads as follows:


"An unbroken transparent or translucent tape-like photographic
film having thereon uniform, sharply defined, equidistant
photographs of successive positions of an object in
motion as observed from a single point of view at rapidly
recurring intervals of time, such photographs being arranged
in a continuous straight-line sequence, unlimited in number
save by the length of the film, and sufficient in number to
represent the movements of the object throughout an extended
period of time."



XVI

EDISON'S ORE-MILLING INVENTIONS

THE wide range of Edison's activities in this department
of the arts is well represented in the diversity of the numerous
patents that have been issued to him from time to
time. These patents are between fifty and sixty in number,
and include magnetic ore separators of ten distinct types; also
breaking, crushing, and grinding
rolls, conveyors, dust-proof bearings,
screens, driers, mixers, bricking
apparatus and machines, ovens,
and processes of various kinds.

A description of the many devices
in each of these divisions
would require more space than is
available; hence, we shall confine
ourselves to a few items of predominating
importance, already referred
to in the narrative. commencing
with the fundamental magnetic ore
separator, which was covered by
United States Patent No. 228,329,
issued June 1, 1880.

The illustration here presented is copied from the drawing forming part of this patent. A hopper
with adjustable feed is supported several feet above a bin having a central partition. Almost
midway between the hopper and the bin is placed an electromagnet whose polar extension is so
arranged as to be a little to one side of a stream of material falling from the hopper. Normally,
a stream of finely divided ore falling from the hopper would fall into that portion of the bin lying
to the left of the partition. If, however, the magnet is energized from a source of current, the
magnetic particles in the falling stream are attracted by and move toward the magnet, which
is so placed with relation to the falling material that the magnetic particles cannot be attracted
entirely to the magnet before gravity has carried them past. Hence, their trajectory
is altered, and they fall on the right-hand side of the
partition in the bin, while the non-magnetic portion of the
stream continues in a straight line and falls on the other
side, thus effecting a complete separation.

This simple but effective principle was the one employed
by Edison in his great concentrating plant already described.
In practice, the numerous hoppers, magnets, and bins were
many feet in length; and they were arranged in batteries of
varied magnetic strength, in order that the intermingled
mass of crushed rock and iron ore might be more thoroughly
separated by being passed through magnetic fields of
successively increasing degrees of attracting power. Altogether
there were about four hundred and eighty of these immense
magnets in the plant, distributed in various buildings in
batteries as above mentioned, the crushed rock containing
the iron ore being delivered to them by conveyors, and the
gangue and ore being taken away after separation by two
other conveyors and delivered elsewhere. The magnetic
separators at first used by Edison at this plant were of the
same generality as the ones employed some years previously
in the separation of sea-shore sand, but greatly enlarged
and improved. The varied experiences gained in the concentration
of vast quantities of ore led naturally to a greater
development, and several new types and arrangements of
magnetic separators were evolved and elaborated by him
from first to last, during the progress of the work at the
concentrating plant.

The magnetic separation of iron from its ore being the
foundation idea of the inventions now under discussion, a
consideration of the separator has naturally taken precedence
over those of collateral but inseparable interest. The ore-
bearing rock, however, must first be ground to powder before
it can be separated; hence, we will now begin at the
root of this operation and consider the "giant rolls," which
Edison devised for breaking huge masses of rock. In his
application for United States Patent No. 672,616, issued
April 23, 1901, applied for on July 16, 1897, he says: "The
object of my invention is to produce a method for the breaking
of rock which will be simple and effective, will not require
the hand-sledging or blasting of the rock down to pieces
of moderate size, and will involve the consumption of a small
amount of power."

While this quotation refers to the method as "simple,"
the patent under consideration covers one of the most bold
and daring projects that Edison has ever evolved. He
proposed to eliminate the slow and expensive method of
breaking large boulders manually, and to substitute therefor
momentum and kinetic energy applied through the medium
of massive machinery, which, in a few seconds, would break
into small pieces a rock as big as an ordinary upright cottage
piano, and weighing as much as six tons. Engineers to
whom Edison communicated his ideas were unanimous in
declaring the thing an impossibility; it was like driving two
express-trains into each other at full speed to crack a great
rock placed between them; that no practical machinery
could be built to stand the terrific impact and strains. Edison's
convictions were strong, however, and he persisted.
The experiments were of heroic size, physically and financially,
but after a struggle of several years and an expenditure
of about $100,000, he realized the correctness and practicability
of his plans in the success of the giant rolls, which
were the outcome of his labors.

The giant rolls consist of a pair of iron cylinders of massive
size and weight, with removable wearing plates having
irregular surfaces formed by projecting knobs. These rolls
are mounted side by side in a very heavy frame (leaving a
gap of about fourteen inches between them), and are so
belted up with the source of power that they run in opposite
directions. The giant rolls described by Edison in the above-
named patent as having been built and operated by him had
a combined weight of 167,000 pounds, including all moving
parts, which of themselves weighed about seventy tons, each
roll being six feet in diameter and five feet long. A top view
of the rolls is shown in the sketch, one roll and one of its
bearings being shown in section.

In Fig. 2 the rolls are illustrated diagrammatically. As
a sketch of this nature, even if given with a definite scale,
does not always carry an adequate idea of relative dimensions
to a non-technical reader, we present in Fig. 3 a perspective
illustration of the giant rolls as installed in the concentrating
plant.

In practice, a small amount of power is applied to run the
giant rolls gradually up to a surface speed of several thousand
feet a minute. When this high speed is attained, masses of
rock weighing several tons in one or more pieces are dumped
into a hopper which guides them into the gap between the
rapidly revolving rolls. The effect is to partially arrest the
swift motion of the rolls instantaneously, and thereby
develop and expend an enormous amount of kinetic energy,
which with pile-driver effect cracks the rocks and breaks
them into pieces small enough to pass through the fourteen-
inch gap. As the power is applied to the rolls through
slipping friction-clutches, the speed of the driving-pulleys
is not materially reduced; hence the rolls may again be
quickly speeded up to their highest velocity while another
load of rock is being hoisted in position to be dumped into
the hopper. It will be obvious from the foregoing that if
it were attempted to supply the great energy necessary for
this operation by direct application of steam-power, an
engine of enormous horse-power would be required, and even
then it is doubtful if one could be constructed of sufficient
strength to withstand the terrific strains that would ensue.
But the work is done by the great momentum and kinetic
energy obtained by speeding up these tremendous masses
of metal, and then suddenly opposing their progress, the
engine being relieved of all strain through the medium of
the slipping friction-clutches. Thus, this cyclopean operation
may be continuously conducted with an amount of
power prodigiously inferior, in proportion, to the results
accomplished.

The sketch (Fig. 4) showing a large boulder being dumped
into the hopper, or roll-pit, will serve to illustrate the method
of feeding these great masses of rock to the rolls, and will
also enable the reader to form an idea of the rapidity of the
breaking operation, when it is stated that a boulder of the
size represented would be reduced by the giant rolls to pieces
a trifle larger than a man's head in a few seconds.

After leaving the giant rolls the broken rock passed on
through other crushing-rolls of somewhat similar construc-
tion. These also were invented by Edison, but antedated
those previously described; being covered by Patent No.
567,187, issued September 8, 1896. These rolls were
intended for the reducing of "one-man-size" rocks to small
pieces, which at the time of their original inception was
about the standard size of similar machines. At the
Edison concentrating plant the broken rock, after passing
through these rolls, was further reduced in size by other rolls,
and was then ready to be crushed to a fine powder through
the medium of another remarkable machine devised by


NOTE.--Figs. 3 and 4 are reproduced from similar sketches on pages 84 and 85
of McClure's Magazine for November, 1897, by permission of S. S. McClure Co.


Edison to meet his ever-recurring and well-defined ideas of
the utmost economy and efficiency. The best fine grinding-
machines that it was then possible to obtain were so
inefficient as to involve a loss of 82 per cent. of the power
applied. The thought of such an enormous loss was unbearable,
and he did not rest until he had invented and put into
use an entirely new grinding-machine, which was called the
"three-high" rolls. The device was covered by a patent
issued to him on November 21, 1899, No. 637,327. It was
a most noteworthy invention, for it brought into the art
not only a greater efficiency of grinding than had ever been
dreamed of before, but also a tremendous economy by the
saving of power; for whereas the previous efficiency had
been 18 per cent. and the loss 82 per cent., Edison reversed
these figures, and in his three-high rolls produced a working
efficiency of 84 per cent., thus reducing the loss of power
by friction to 16 per cent. A diagrammatic sketch of this
remarkable machine is shown in Fig. 5, which shows a front
elevation with the casings, hopper, etc., removed, and also
shows above the rolls the rope and pulleys, the supports for
which are also removed for the sake of clearness in the
illustration.

For the convenience of the reader, in referring to Fig. 5,
we will repeat the description of the three-high rolls, which
is given on pages 487 and 488 of the preceding narrative.

In the two end-pieces of a heavy iron frame were set three
rolls, or cylinders--one in the centre, another below, and
the other above--all three being in a vertical line. These
rolls were about three feet in diameter, made of cast-iron,
and had face-plates of chilled-iron.[31] The lowest roll was set
in a fixed bearing at the bottom of the frame, and, therefore,
could only turn around on its axis. The middle and top
rolls were free to move up or down from and toward the
lower roll, and the shafts of the middle and upper rolls were
set in a loose bearing which could slip up and down in the
iron frame. It will be apparent, therefore, that any material
which passed in between the top and the middle rolls,
and the middle and bottom rolls, could be ground as fine as
might be desired, depending entirely upon the amount of
pressure applied to the loose rolls. In operation the material
passed first through the upper and middle rolls, and then
between the middle and lowest rolls.


[31] The faces of these rolls were smooth, but as three-high rolls
came into use later in Edison's Portland cement operations the faces
were corrugated so as to fit into each other, gear-fashion, to provide
for a high rate of feed.


This pressure was applied in a most ingenious manner.
On the ends of the shafts of the bottom and top rolls there
were cylindrical sleeves, or bearings, having seven sheaves
in which was run a half-inch endless wire rope. This rope
was wound seven times over the sheaves as above, and led
upward and over a single-groove sheave, which was operated
by the piston of an air-cylinder, and in this manner the
pressure was applied to the rolls. It will be seen, therefore
that the system consisted in a single rope passed over sheaves
and so arranged that it could be varied in length, thus providing
for elasticity in exerting pressure and regulating it
as desired. The efficiency of this system was incomparably
greater than that of any other known crusher or grinder, for
while a pressure of one hundred and twenty-five thousand
pounds could be exerted by these rolls, friction was almost
entirely eliminated, because the upper and lower roll bearings
turned with the rolls and revolved in the wire rope,
which constituted the bearing proper.

Several other important patents have been issued to Edison
for crushing and grinding rolls, some of them being for
elaborations and improvements of those above described
but all covering methods of greater economy and effectiveness
in rock-grinding.

Edison's work on conveyors during the period of his ore-
concentrating labors was distinctively original, ingenious
and far in advance of the times. His conception of the
concentrating problem was broad and embraced an entire
system, of which a principal item was the continuous transfer
of enormous quantities of material from place to place
at the lowest possible cost. As he contemplated the concentration
of six thousand tons daily, the expense of manual
labor to move such an immense quantity of rock, sand, and
ore would be absolutely prohibitive. Hence, it became
necessary to invent a system of conveyors that would be
capable of transferring this mass of material from one place
to another. And not only must these conveyors be capable
of carrying the material, but they must also be devised so
that they would automatically receive and discharge their
respective loads at appointed places. Edison's ingenuity,
engineering ability, and inventive skill were equal to the task,
however, and were displayed in a system and variety of conveyors
that in practice seemed to act with almost human
discrimination. When fully installed throughout the plant,
they automatically transferred daily a mass of material equal
to about one hundred thousand cubic feet, from mill to mill,
covering about a mile in the transit. Up and down, winding
in and out, turning corners, delivering material from one to
another, making a number of loops in the drying-oven, filling
up bins and passing on to the next when they were full,
these conveyors in automatic action seemingly played their
part with human intelligence, which was in reality the reflection
of the intelligence and ingenuity that had originally
devised them and set them in motion.

Six of Edison's patents on conveyors include a variety
of devices that have since came into broad general use for
similar work, and have been the means of effecting great
economies in numerous industries of widely varying kinds.
Interesting as they are, however, we shall not attempt to
describe them in detail, as the space required would be too
great. They are specified in the list of patents following this
Appendix, and may be examined in detail by any interested
student.

In the same list will also be found a large number of Edison's
patents on apparatus and methods of screening, drying,
mixing, and briquetting, as well as for dust-proof
bearings, and various types and groupings of separators,
all of which were called forth by the exigencies and magnitude
of his great undertaking, and without which he could
not possibly have attained the successful physical results
that crowned his labors. Edison's persistence in reducing
the cost of his operations is noteworthy in connection with
his screening and drying inventions, in which the utmost
advantage is taken of the law of gravitation. With its
assistance, which cost nothing, these operations were
performed perfectly. It was only necessary to deliver the
material at the top of the chambers, and during its natural
descent it was screened or dried as the case might be.

All these inventions and devices, as well as those described
in detail above (except magnetic separators and mixing
and briquetting machines), are being used by him to-day
in the manufacture of Portland cement, as that industry
presents many of the identical problems which presented
themselves in relation to the concentration of iron ore.



XVII

THE LONG CEMENT KILN

IN this remarkable invention, which has brought about a
striking innovation in a long-established business, we see
another characteristic instance of Edison's incisive reasoning
and boldness of conception carried into practical effect
in face of universal opinions to the contrary.

For the information of those unacquainted with the process
of manufacturing Portland cement, it may be stated
that the material consists preliminarily of an intimate mixture
of cement rock and limestone, ground to a very fine
powder. This powder is technically known in the trade as
"chalk," and is fed into rotary kilns and "burned"; that is
to say, it is subjected to a high degree of heat obtained by
the combustion of pulverized coal, which is injected into the
interior of the kiln. This combustion effects a chemical
decomposition of the chalk, and causes it to assume a plastic
consistency and to collect together in the form of small
spherical balls. which are known as "clinker." Kilns are
usually arranged with a slight incline, at the upper end of
which the chalk is fed in and gradually works its way down
to the interior flame of burning fuel at the other end. When
it arrives at the lower end, the material has been "burned,"
and the clinker drops out into a receiving chamber below.
The operation is continuous, a constant supply of chalk
passing in at one end of the kiln and a continuous dribble of
clinker-balls dropping out at the other. After cooling, the
clinker is ground into very fine powder, which is the Portland
cement of commerce.

It is self-evident that an ideal kiln would be one that
produced the maximum quantity of thoroughly clinkered
material with a minimum amount of fuel, labor, and investment.
When Edison was preparing to go into the cement
business, he looked the ground over thoroughly, and, after
considerable investigation and experiment, came to the conclusion
that prevailing conditions as to kilns were far from
ideal.

The standard kilns then in use were about sixty feet in
length, with an internal diameter of about five feet. In all
rotary kilns for burning cement, the true clinkering operation
takes place only within a limited portion of their total
length, where the heat is greatest; hence the interior of the
kiln may be considered as being divided longitudinally into
two parts or zones--namely, the combustion, or clinkering,
zone, and the zone of oncoming raw material. In the sixty-
foot kiln the length of the combustion zone was about ten
feet, extending from a point six or eight feet from the lower,
or discharge, end to a point about eighteen feet from that
end. Consequently, beyond that point there was a zone of
only about forty feet, through which the heated gases passed
and came in contact with the oncoming material, which was
in movement down toward the clinkering zone. Since the
bulk of oncoming material was small, the gases were not
called upon to part with much of their heat, and therefore
passed on up the stack at very high temperatures, ranging
from 1500 degrees to 1800 degrees Fahr. Obviously, this heat was entirely
lost.

An additional loss of efficiency arose from the fact that
the material moved so rapidly toward the combustion zone
that it had not given up all its carbon dioxide on reaching
there; and by the giving off of large quantities of that gas
within the combustion zone, perfect and economical combustion
of coal could not be effected.

The comparatively short length of the sixty-foot kiln not
only limited the amount of material that could be fed into
it, but the limitation in length of the combustion zone militated
against a thorough clinkering of the material, this
operation being one in which the elements of time and proper
heat are prime considerations. Thus the quantity of good
clinker obtainable was unfavorably affected. By reason of
these and other limitations and losses, it had been possible,
in practice, to obtain only about two hundred and fifty
barrels of clinker per day of twenty-four hours; and that
with an expenditure for coal proportionately equal to about
29 to 33 per cent. of the quantity of clinker produced, even
assuming that all the clinker was of good quality.

Edison realized that the secret of greater commercial
efficiency and improvement of quality lay in the ability to
handle larger quantities of material within a given time, and
to produce a more perfect product without increasing cost
or investment in proportion. His reasoning led him to the
conclusion that this result could only be obtained through
the use of a kiln of comparatively great length, and his
investigations and experiments enabled him to decide upon
a length of one hundred and fifty feet, but with an increase
in diameter of only six inches to a foot over that of the sixty-
foot kiln.

The principal considerations that influenced Edison in
making this radical innovation may be briefly stated as
follows:

First. The ability to maintain in the kiln a load from five
to seven times greater than ordinarily employed, thereby
tending to a more economical output.

Second. The combustion of a vastly increased bulk of
pulverized coal and a greatly enlarged combustion zone,
extending about forty feet longitudinally into the kiln--thus
providing an area within which the material might be maintained
in a clinkering temperature for a sufficiently long
period to insure its being thoroughly clinkered from periphery
to centre.

Third. By reason of such a greatly extended length of the
zone of oncoming material (and consequently much greater
bulk), the gases and other products of combustion would be
cooled sufficiently between the combustion zone and the stack
so as to leave the kiln at a comparatively low temperature.
Besides, the oncoming material would thus be gradually
raised in temperature instead of being heated abruptly, as
in the shorter kilns.

Fourth. The material having thus been greatly raised in
temperature before reaching the combustion zone would
have parted with substantially all its carbon dioxide, and
therefore would not introduce into the combustion zone
sufficient of that gas to disturb the perfect character of the
combustion.

Fifth. On account of the great weight of the heavy load
in a long kiln, there would result the formation of a continuous
plastic coating on that portion of the inner surface
of the kiln where temperatures are highest. This would
effectively protect the fire-brick lining from the destructive
effects of the heat.

Such, in brief, were the essential principles upon which
Edison based his conception and invention of the long kiln,
which has since become so well known in the cement business.

Many other considerations of a minor and mechanical
nature, but which were important factors in his solution of
this difficult problem, are worthy of study by those intimately
associated with or interested in the art. Not the least
of the mechanical questions was settled by Edison's decision
to make this tremendously long kiln in sections of cast-iron,
with flanges, bolted together, and supported on rollers
rotated by electric motors. Longitudinal expansion and
thrust were also important factors to be provided for, as
well as special devices to prevent the packing of the mass
of material as it passed in and out of the kiln. Special
provision was also made for injecting streams of pulverized coal
in such manner as to create the largely extended zone of
combustion. As to the details of these and many other in-
genious devices, we must refer the curious reader to the
patents, as it is merely intended in these pages to indicate
in a brief manner the main principles of Edison's notable
inventions. The principal United States patent on the long
kiln was issued October 24, 1905, No. 802,631.

That his reasonings and deductions were correct in this
case have been indubitably proven by some years of experience
with the long kiln in its ability to produce from
eight hundred to one thousand barrels of good clinker every
twenty-four hours, with an expenditure for coal proportionately
equal to about only 20 per cent. of the quantity of
clinker produced.

To illustrate the long cement kiln by diagram would convey
but little to the lay mind, and we therefore present an
illustration (Fig. 1) of actual kilns in perspective, from which
sense of their proportions may be gathered.



XVIII

EDISON'S NEW STORAGE BATTERY

GENERICALLY considered, a "battery" is a device which
generates electric current. There are two distinct species
of battery, one being known as "primary," and the other
as "storage," although the latter is sometimes referred to
as a "secondary battery" or "accumulator." Every type
of each of these two species is essentially alike in its general
make-up; that is to say, every cell of battery of any kind
contains at least two elements of different nature immersed
in a more or less liquid electrolyte of chemical character.
On closing the circuit of a primary battery an electric current
is generated by reason of the chemical action which is
set up between the electrolyte and the elements. This involves
a gradual consumption of one of the elements and a
corresponding exhaustion of the active properties of the
electrolyte. By reason of this, both the element and the
electrolyte that have been used up must be renewed from
time to time, in order to obtain a continued supply of electric
current.

The storage battery also generates electric current through
chemical action, but without involving the constant repriming
with active materials to replace those consumed and
exhausted as above mentioned. The term "storage," as
applied to this species of battery, is, however, a misnomer,
and has been the cause of much misunderstanding to nontechnical
persons. To the lay mind a "storage" battery
presents itself in the aspect of a device in which electric
energy is STORED, just as compressed air is stored or accumulated
in a tank. This view, however, is not in accordance
with facts. It is exactly like the primary battery in the
fundamental circumstance that its ability for generating
electric current depends upon chemical action. In strict
terminology it is a "reversible" battery, as will be quite obvious
if we glance briefly at its philosophy. When a storage
battery is "charged," by having an electric current passed
through it, the electric energy produces a chemical effect,
adding oxygen to the positive plate, and taking oxygen away
from the negative plate. Thus, the positive plate becomes
oxidized, and the negative plate reduced. After the charging
operation is concluded the battery is ready for use, and
upon its circuit being closed through a translating device,
such as a lamp or motor, a reversion ("discharge") takes
place, the positive plate giving up its oxygen, and the negative
plate being oxidized. These chemical actions result in
the generation of an electric current as in a primary battery.
As a matter of fact, the chemical actions and reactions
in a storage battery are much more complex, but the
above will serve to afford the lay reader a rather simple idea
of the general result arrived at through the chemical activity
referred to.

The storage battery, as a commercial article, was introduced
into the market in the year 1881. At that time, and
all through the succeeding years, until about 1905, there
was only one type that was recognized as commercially
practicable--namely, that known as the lead-sulphuric-acid
cell, consisting of lead plates immersed in an electrolyte of
dilute sulphuric acid. In the year last named Edison first
brought out his new form of nickel-iron cell with alkaline
electrolyte, as we have related in the preceding narrative.
Early in the eighties, at Menlo Park, he had given much
thought to the lead type of storage battery, and during the
course of three years had made a prodigious number of experiments
in the direction of improving it, probably performing
more experiments in that time than the aggregate
of those of all other investigators. Even in those early days
he arrived at the conclusion that the lead-sulphuric-acid
combination was intrinsically wrong, and did not embrace
the elements of a permanent commercial device. He did
not at that time, however, engage in a serious search for
another form of storage battery, being tremendously occupied
with his lighting system and other matters.

It may here be noted, for the information of the lay
reader, that the lead-acid type of storage battery consists
of two or more lead plates immersed in dilute sulphuric acid
and contained in a receptacle of glass, hard rubber, or other
special material not acted upon by acid. The plates are
prepared and "formed" in various ways, and the chemical
actions are similar to those above stated, the positive plate
being oxidized and the negative reduced during "charge,"
and reversed during "discharge." This type of cell, however,
has many serious disadvantages inherent to its very
nature. We will name a few of them briefly. Constant
dropping of fine particles of active material often causes
short-circuiting of the plates, and always necessitates occasional
washing out of cells; deterioration through "sulphation"
if discharge is continued too far or if recharging is not
commenced quickly enough; destruction of adjacent metal-
work by the corrosive fumes given out during charge and
discharge; the tendency of lead plates to "buckle" under
certain conditions; the limitation to the use of glass, hard
rubber, or similar containers on account of the action of the
acid; and the immense weight for electrical capacity. The
tremendously complex nature of the chemical reactions which
take place in the lead-acid storage battery also renders it an
easy prey to many troublesome diseases.

In the year 1900, when Edison undertook to invent a
storage battery, he declared it should be a new type into
which neither sulphuric nor any other acid should enter.
He said that the intimate and continued companionship of
an acid and a metal was unnatural, and incompatible with
the idea of durability and simplicity. He furthermore
stated that lead was an unmechanical metal for a battery,
being heavy and lacking stability and elasticity, and that
as most metals were unaffected by alkaline solutions, he
was going to experiment in that direction. The soundness
of his reasoning is amply justified by the perfection of results
obtained in the new type of storage battery bearing his
name, and now to be described.

The essential technical details of this battery are fully
described in an article written by one of Edison's laboratory
staff, Walter E. Holland, who for many years has been
closely identified with the inventor's work on this cell
The article was published in the Electrical World, New
York, April 28, 1910; and the following extracts there-
from will afford an intelligent comprehension of this invention:

"The `A' type Edison cell is the outcome of nine years of
costly experimentation and persistent toil on the part of its
inventor and his associates....

"The Edison invention involves the use of an entirely new
voltaic combination in an alkaline electrolyte, in place of the
lead-lead-peroxide combination and acid electrolyte, characteristic
of all other commercial storage batteries. Experience
has proven that this not only secures durability and
greater output per unit-weight of battery, but in addition
there is eliminated a long list of troubles and diseases inherent
in the lead-acid combination....

"The principle on which the action of this new battery is
based is the oxidation and reduction of metals in an electrolyte
which does not combine with, and will not dissolve,
either the metals or their oxides; and an electrolyte, furthermore,
which, although decomposed by the action of the
battery, is immediately re-formed in equal quantity; and
therefore in effect is a CONSTANT element, not changing in density
or in conductivity.

"A battery embodying this basic principle will have features
of great value where lightness and durability are desiderata.
For instance, the electrolyte, being a constant
factor, as explained, is not required in any fixed and large
amount, as is the case with sulphuric acid in the lead battery;
thus the cell may be designed with minimum distancing of
plates and with the greatest economy of space that is consistent
with safe insulation and good mechanical design.
Again, the active materials of the electrodes being insoluble
in, and absolutely unaffected by, the electrolyte, are not liable
to any sort of chemical deterioration by action of the
electrolyte--no matter how long continued....

"The electrolyte of the Edison battery is a 21 per cent.

solution of potassium hydrate having, in addition, a small
amount of lithium hydrate. The active metals of the electrodes
--which will oxidize and reduce in this electrolyte
without dissolution or chemical deterioration--are nickel
and iron. These active elements are not put in the plates
AS METALS; but one, nickel, in the form of a hydrate, and the
other, iron, as an oxide.

"The containing cases of both kinds of active material
(Fig. 1), and their supporting grids (Fig. 2), as well as the
bolts, washers, and nuts used in assembling (Fig. 3), and
even the retaining can and its cover (Fig. 4), are all made of
nickel-plated steel--a material in which lightness, durability
and mechanical strength are most happily combined, and a
material beyond suspicion as to corrosion in an alkaline
electrolyte....

"An essential part of Edison's discovery of active ma-
setials for an alkaline storage battery was the PREPARATION
of these materials. Metallic powder of iron and nickel, or
even oxides of these metals, prepared in the ordinary way,
are not chemically active in a sufficient degree to work in a
battery. It is only when specially prepared iron oxide of
exceeding fineness, and nickel hydrate conforming to certain
physical, as well as chemical, standards can be made that the
alkaline battery is practicable. Needless to say, the working
out of the conditions and processes of manufacture of the
materials has involved great ingenuity and endless experimentation."


The article then treats of Edison's investigations into
means for supporting and making electrical connection with
the active materials, showing some of the difficulties encountered
and the various discoveries made in developing the perfected
cell, after which the writer continues his description
of the "A" type cell, as follows:


"It will be seen at once that the construction of the two
kinds of plate is radically different. The negative or iron
plate (Fig. 5) has the familiar flat-pocket construction.
Each negative contains twenty-four pockets--a pocket being
1/2 inch wide by 3 inches long, and having a maximum thickness
of a little more than 1/8 inch. The positive or nickel
plate (Fig. 6) is seen to consist of two rows of round rods
or pencils, thirty in number, held in a vertical position by
a steel support-frame. The pencils have flat flanges at the
ends (formed by closing in the metal case), by which they
are supported and electrical connection is made. The frame
is slit at the inner horizontal edges, and then folded in such
a way as to make individual clamping-jaws for each end-
flange. The clamping-in is done at great pressure, and the
resultant plate has great rigidity and strength.

"The perforated tubes into which the nickel active material
is loaded are made of nickel-plated steel of high quality.
They are put together with a double-lapped spiral seam to
give expansion-resisting qualities, and as an additional
precaution small metal rings are slipped on the outside. Each
tube is 1/4 inch in diameter by 4 1/8 inches long, add has eight
of the reinforcing rings.

"It will be seen that the `A' positive plate has been given
the theoretically best design to prevent expansion and overcome
trouble from that cause. Actual tests, long continued
under very severe conditions, have shown that the construction
is right, and fulfils the most sanguine expectations."


Mr. Holland in his article then goes on to explain the
development of the nickel flakes as the conducting factor in
the positive element, but as this has already been described
in Chapter XXII, we shall pass on to a later point, where
he says:


"An idea of the conditions inside a loaded tube can best
be had by microscopic examination. Fig. 7 shows a magnified
section of a regularly loaded tube which has been
sawed lengthwise. The vertical bounding walls are edges
of the perforated metal containing tube; the dark horizontal
lines are layers of nickel flake, while the light-colored
thicker layers represent the nickel hydrate. It should be
noted that the layers of flake nickel extend practically
unbroken across the tube and make contact with the metal wall
at both sides. These metal layers conduct current to or from
the active nickel hydrate in all parts of the tube very
efficiently. There are about three hundred and fifty layers of
each kind of material in a 4 1/8 -inch tube, each layer of nickel
hydrate being about 0.01 inch thick; so it will be seen that
the current does not have to penetrate very far into the nickel
hydrate--one-half a layer's thickness being the maximum
distance. The perforations of the containing tube, through
which the electrolyte reaches the active material, are also
shown in Fig. 7."


In conclusion, the article enumerates the chief
characteristics of the Edison storage battery which fit it pre-
eminently for transportation service, as follows: 1. No
loss of active material, hence no sediment short-circuits.
2. No jar breakage. 3. Possibility of quick disconnection
or replacement of any cell without employment of skilled
labor. 4. Impossibility of "buckling" and harmlessness of
a dead short-circuit. 5. Simplicity of care required. 6.
Durability of materials and construction. 7. Impossibility
of "sulphation." 8. Entire absence of corrosive fumes.
9. Commercial advantages of light weight. 10. Duration
on account of its dependability. 11. Its high practical
efficiency.



XIX

EDISON'S POURED CEMENT HOUSE

THE inventions that have been thus far described fall into
two classes--first, those that were fundamental in the great
arts and industries which have been founded and established
upon them, and, second, those that have entered into
and enlarged other arts that were previously in existence.
On coming to consider the subject now under discussion,
however, we find ourselves, at this writing, on the threshold
of an entirely new and undeveloped art of such boundless
possibilities that its ultimate extent can only be a matter of
conjecture.

Edison's concrete house, however, involves two main
considerations, first of which was the conception or creation of
the IDEA--vast and comprehensive--of providing imperishable
and sanitary homes for the wage-earner by molding
an entire house in one piece in a single operation, so to speak,
and so simply that extensive groups of such dwellings could
be constructed rapidly and at very reasonable cost. With
this idea suggested, one might suppose that it would be a
simple matter to make molds and pour in a concrete mixture.
Not so, however. And here the second consideration
presents itself. An ordinary cement mixture is composed
of crushed stone, sand, cement, and water. If such a mixture
be poured into deep molds the heavy stone and sand
settle to the bottom. Should the mixture be poured into
a horizontal mold, like the floor of a house, the stone and
sand settle, forming an ununiform mass. It was at this
point that invention commenced, in order to produce a concrete
mixture which would overcome this crucial difficulty.
Edison, with characteristic thoroughness, took up a line of
investigation, and after a prolonged series of experiments
succeeded in inventing a mixture that upon hardening re-
mained uniform throughout its mass. In the beginning of
his experimentation he had made the conditions of test
very severe by the construction of forms similar to that
shown in the sketch below.

This consisted of a hollow wooden form of the dimensions
indicated. The mixture was to be poured into the hopper
until the entire form was filled, such mixture flowing down
and along the horizontal legs and up the vertical members.
It was to be left until the mixture was hard, and the requirement
of the test was that there should be absolute uniformity
of mixture and mass throughout. This was finally
accomplished, and further invention then proceeded along
engineering lines looking toward the devising of a system
of molds with which practicable dwellings might be cast.

Edison's boldness and breadth of conception are well illustrated
in his idea of a poured house, in which he displays his
accustomed tendency to reverse accepted methods. In fact,
it is this very reversal of usual procedure that renders it
difficult for the average mind to instantly grasp the full
significance of the principles involved and the results attained.

Up to this time we have been accustomed to see the erection
of a house begun at the foundation and built up slowly,
piece by piece, of solid materials: first the outer frame, then
the floors and inner walls, followed by the stairways, and
so on up to the putting on of the roof. Hence, it requires a
complete rearrangement of mental conceptions to appreciate
Edison's proposal to build a house FROM THE TOP DOWNWARD,
in a few hours, with a freely flowing material poured into
molds, and in a few days to take away the molds and find
a complete indestructible sanitary house, including foundation,
frame, floors, walls, stairways, chimneys, sanitary
arrangements, and roof, with artistic ornamentation inside and
out, all in one solid piece, as if it were graven or bored out
of a rock.

To bring about the accomplishment of a project so extraordinarily
broad involves engineering and mechanical conceptions
of a high order, and, as we have seen, these have
been brought to bear on the subject by Edison, together with
an intimate knowledge of compounded materials.

The main features of this invention are easily comprehensible
with the aid of the following diagrammatic sectional sketch:

It should be first understood that the above sketch is in
broad outline, without elaboration, merely to illustrate the
working principle; and while the upright structure on the
right is intended to represent a set of molds in position to
form a three-story house, with cellar, no regular details of
such a building (such as windows, doors, stairways, etc.) are
here shown, as they would only tend to complicate an
explanation.

It will be noted that there are really two sets of molds,
an inside and an outside set, leaving a space between them
throughout. Although not shown in the sketch, there is in
practice a number of bolts passing through these two sets
of molds at various places to hold them together in their
relative positions. In the open space between the molds
there are placed steel rods for the purpose of reinforcement;
while all through the entire structure provision is made for
water and steam pipes, gas-pipes and electric-light wires
being placed in appropriate positions as the molds are
assembled.

At the centre of the roof there will be noted a funnel-
shaped opening. Into this there is delivered by the endless
chain of buckets shown on the left a continuous stream of
a special free-flowing concrete mixture. This mixture descends
by gravity, and gradually fills the entire space between
the two sets of molds. The delivery of the material--or
"pouring," as it is called--is continued until every part of
the space is filled and the mixture is even with the tip of
the roof, thus completing the pouring, or casting, of the
house. In a few days afterward the concrete will have
hardened sufficiently to allow the molds to be taken away
leaving an entire house, from cellar floor to the peak of the
roof, complete in all its parts, even to mantels and picture
molding, and requiring only windows and doors, plumbing,
heating, and lighting fixtures to make it ready for habitation.

In the above sketch the concrete mixers, A, B, are driven
by the electric motor, C. As the material is mixed it descends
into the tank, D, and flows through a trough into a lower
tank, E, in which it is constantly stirred, and from which it
is taken by the endless chain of buckets and dumped into
the funnel-shaped opening at the top of the molds, as above
described.

The molds are made of cast-iron in sections of such size
and weight as will be most convenient for handling, mostly
in pieces not exceeding two by four feet in rectangular
dimensions. The subjoined sketch shows an exterior view of
several of these molds as they appear when bolted together,
the intersecting central portions representing ribs, which are
included as part of the casting for purposes of strength and
rigidity.

The molds represented above are those for straight work,
such as walls and floors. Those intended for stairways,
eaves, cornices, windows, doorways, etc., are much more
complicated in design, although the same general principles
are employed in their construction.

While the philosophy of pouring or casting a complete
house in its entirety is apparently quite simple, the development
of the engineering and mechanical questions involves
the solution of a vast number of most intricate and complicated
problems covering not only the building as a whole,
but its numerous parts, down to the minutest detail. Safety,
convenience, duration, and the practical impossibility of
altering a one-piece solid dwelling are questions that must
be met before its construction, and therefore Edison has
proceeded calmly on his way toward the goal he has ever had
clearly in mind, with utter indifference to the criticisms and
jeers of those who, as "experts," have professed positive
knowledge of the impossibility of his carrying out this daring
scheme.



LIST OF UNITED STATES PATENTS

List of United States patents granted to Thomas A. Edison,
arranged according to dates of execution of
applications for such patents. This list shows
the inventions as Mr. Edison has worked
upon them from year to year


1868

NO.         TITLE OF PATENT DATE EXECUTED                    DATE EXECUTED
90,646,     Electrographic Vote Recorder . . . . .Oct. 13, 1868

1869

91,527      Printing Telegraph (reissued October
            25, 1870, numbered 4166, and August
            5, 1873, numbered 5519). . . . . . . .Jan. 25, 1869
96,567      Apparatus for Printing Telegraph (reissued
            February 1, 1870, numbered
            3820). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 17, 1869
96,681      Electrical Switch for Telegraph ApparatusAug. 27, 1869
102,320     Printing Telegraph--Pope and Edison
            (reissued April 17, 1877, numbered
            7621, and December 9, 1884, numbered
            10,542). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sept. 16, 1869
103,924     Printing Telegraphs--Pope and Edison
            (reissued August 5, 1873) 

1870

103,035     Electromotor Escapement. . . . . . . . Feb. 5, 1870
128,608     Printing Telegraph Instruments . . . . .May 4, 1870
114,656     Telegraph Transmitting Instruments . .June 22, 1870
114,658     Electro Magnets for Telegraph
            Instruments. . . . . . . . . . . . . .June 22, 1870
114,657     Relay Magnets for Telegraph
            Instruments. . . . . . . . . . . . . .Sept. 6, 1870
111,112     Electric Motor Governors . . . . . . .June 29, 1870
113,033     Printing Telegraph Apparatus . . . . .Nov. 17, 1870

1871

113,034     Printing Telegraph Apparatus . . . . .Jan. 10, 1871
123,005     Telegraph Apparatus. . . . . . . . . .July 26, 1871
123,006     Printing Telegraph . . . . . . . . . .July 26, 1871
123,984     Telegraph Apparatus. . . . . . . . . .July 26, 1871
124,800     Telegraphic Recording Instruments. . .Aug. 12, 1871
121,601     Machinery for Perforating Paper for
            Telegraph Purposes . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 16, 1871
126,535     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .Nov. 13, 1871
133,841     Typewriting Machine. . . . . . . . . .Nov. 13, 1871

1872
126,532     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 3 1872
126,531     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .Jan. 17, 1872
126,534     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .Jan. 17, 1872
126,528     Type Wheels for Printing Telegraphs. .Jan. 23, 1872
126,529     Type Wheels for Printing Telegraphs. .Jan. 23, 1872
126,530     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .Feb. 14, 1872
126,533     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .Feb. 14, 1872
132,456     Apparatus for Perforating Paper for
            Telegraphic Use. . . . . . . . . . . March 15, 1872
132,455     Improvement in Paper for Chemical
            Telegraphs . . . . . . . . . . . . . April 10, 1872
133,019     Electrical Printing Machine. . . . . April 18, 1872
128,131     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . April 26, 1872
128,604     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . April 26, 1872
128,605     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . April 26, 1872
128,606     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . April 26, 1872
128,607     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . April 26, 1872
131,334     Rheotomes or Circuit Directors . . . . .May 6, 1872
134,867     Automatic Telegraph Instruments. . . . .May 8, 1872
134,868     Electro Magnetic Adjusters . . . . . . .May 8, 1872
130,795     Electro Magnets. . . . . . . . . . . . .May 9, 1872
131,342     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . . .May 9, 1872
131,341     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . . May 28, 1872
131,337     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .June 10, 1872
131,340     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .June 10, 1872
131,343     Transmitters and Circuits for Printing
            Telegraph. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .June 10, 1872
131,335     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .June 15, 1872
131,336     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .June 15, 1872
131,338     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .June 29, 1872
131,339     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .June 29, 1872
131,344     Unison Stops for Printing Telegraphs .June 29, 1872
134,866     Printing and Telegraph Instruments . .Oct. 16, 1872
138,869     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .Oct. 16, 1872
142,999     Galvanic Batteries . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 31, 1872
141,772     Automatic or Chemical Telegraphs . . . Nov. 5, 1872
135,531     Circuits for Chemical Telegraphs . . . Nov. 9, 1872
146,812     Telegraph Signal Boxes . . . . . . . .Nov. 26, 1872
141,773     Circuits for Automatic Telegraphs. . .Dec. 12, 1872
141,776     Circuits for Automatic Telegraphs. . .Dec. 12, 1872
150,848     Chemical or Automatic Telegraphs . . .Dec. 12, 1872


1873

139,128     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .Jan. 21, 1873
139,129     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .Feb. 13, 1873
140,487     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .Feb. 13, 1873
140,489     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .Feb. 13, 1873
138,870     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .March 7, 1873
141,774     Chemical Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .March 7, 1873
141,775     Perforator for Automatic Telegraphs. .March 7, 1873
141,777     Relay Magnets. . . . . . . . . . . . .March 7, 1873
142,688     Electric Regulators for Transmitting
           Instruments . . . . . . . . . . . . . .March 7, 1873
156,843     Duplex Chemical Telegraphs . . . . . .March 7, 1873
147,312     Perforators for Automatic Telegraphy March 24, 1873
147,314     Circuits for Chemical Telegraphs . . March 24, 1873
150,847     Receiving Instruments for Chemical
            Telegraphs . . . . . . . . . . . . . March 24, 1873
140,488     Printing Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . April 23, 1873
147,311     Electric Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . April 23, 1873
147,313     Chemical Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . April 23, 1873
147,917     Duplex Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . . April 23, 1873
150,846     Telegraph Relays . . . . . . . . . . April 23, 1873
160,405     Adjustable Electro Magnets for
            Relays, etc. . . . . . . . . . . . . April 23, 1873
162,633     Duplex Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . . April 22, 1873
151,209     Automatic Telegraphy and Perforators
            Therefor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 25, 1873
160,402     Solutions for Chemical Telegraph PaperSept. 29, 1873
160,404     Solutions for Chemical Telegraph PaperSept. 29, 1873
160,580     Solutions for Chemical Telegraph PaperOct. 14, 1873
160,403     Solutions for Chemical Telegraph PaperOct. 29, 1873

1874


154,788     District Telegraph Signal Box. . . . .April 2, 1874
168,004     Printing Telegraph . . . . . . . . . . May 22, 1874
166,859     Chemical Telegraphy. . . . . . . . . . June 1, 1874
166,860     Chemical Telegraphy. . . . . . . . . . June 1, 1874
166,861     Chemical Telegraphy. . . . . . . . . . June 1, 1874
158,787     Telegraph Apparatus. . . . . . . . . . Aug. 7, 1874
172,305     Automatic Roman Character
            Telegraph. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 7, 1874
173,718     Automatic Telegraphy . . . . . . . . . Aug. 7, 1874
178,221     Duplex Telegraphs. . . . . . . .      Aug. 19, 1874
178,222     Duplex Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 19, 1874
178,223     Duplex Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 19, 1874
180,858     Duplex Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 19, 1874
207,723     Duplex Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 19, 1874
480,567     Duplex Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 19, 1874
207,724     Duplex Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . . .Dec. 14, 1874


1875

168,242     Transmitter and Receiver for Automatic
            Telegraph. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 18, 1875
168,243     Automatic Telegraphs . . . . . . . . .Jan. 18, 1875
168,385     Duplex Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 18, 1875
168,466     Solution for Chemical Telegraphs . . .Jan. 18, 1875
168,467     Recording Point for Chemical TelegraphJan. 18, 1875
195,751     Automatic Telegraphs . . . . . . . . . Jan. 18 1875
195,752     Automatic Telegraphs . . . . . . . . .Jan. 19, 1875
171,273     Telegraph Apparatus. . . . . . . . . . Feb 11, 1875
169,972     Electric Signalling Instrument . . . . Feb 24, 1875
209,241     Quadruplex Telegraph Repeaters (reissued
            September 23, 1879, numbered
            8906). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb 24, 1875

1876

180,857     Autographic Printing . . . . . . . . .March 7, 1876
198,088     Telephonic Telegraphs. . . . . . . . .April 3, 1876
198,089     Telephonic or Electro Harmonic
            Telegraphs . . . . . . . . . . . . . .April 3, 1876
182,996     Acoustic Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . . .May 9, 1876
186,330     Acoustic Electric Telegraphs . . . . . .May 9, 1876
186,548     Telegraph Alarm and Signal Apparatus . .May 9, 1876
198,087     Telephonic Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . .May 9, 1876
185,507     Electro Harmonic Multiplex Telegraph .Aug. 16, 1876
200,993     Acoustic Telegraph . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 26, 1876
235,142     Acoustic Telegraph . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 26, 1876
200,032     Synchronous Movements for Electric
            Telegraphs . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 30, 1876
200,994     Automatic Telegraph Perforator and
            Transmitter. . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 30, 1876

1877
205,370     Pneumatic Stencil Pens . . . . . . . . Feb. 3, 1877
213,554     Automatic Telegraphs . . . . . . . . . Feb. 3, 1877
196,747     Stencil Pens . . . . . . . . . . . . April 18, 1877
203,329     Perforating Pens . . . . . . . . . . April 18, 1877
474,230     Speaking Telegraph . . . . . . . . . April 18, 1877
217,781     Sextuplex Telegraph. . . . . . . . . . .May 8, 1877
230,621     Addressing Machine . . . . . . . . . . .May 8, 1877
377,374     Telegraphy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .May 8, 1877
453,601     Sextuplex Telegraph. . . . . . . . . . May 31, 1877
452,913     Sextuplex Telegraph. . . . . . . . . . May 31, 1877
512,872     Sextuplex Telegraph. . . . . . . . . . May 31, 1877
474,231     Speaking Telegraph . . . . . . . . . . July 9, 1877
203,014     Speaking Telegraph . . . . . . . . . .July 16, 1877
208,299     Speaking Telegraph . . . . . . . . . .July 16, 1877
203,015     Speaking Telegraph . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 16, 1877
420,594     Quadruplex Telegraph . . . . . . . . .Aug. 16, 1877
492,789     Speaking Telegraph . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 31, 1877
203,013     Speaking Telegraph . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 8, 1877
203 018     Telephone or Speaking Telegraph. . . . Dec. 8, 1877
200 521     Phonograph or Speaking Machine . . . .Dec. 15, 1877

1878

203,019     Circuit for Acoustic or Telephonic
            Telegraphs . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 13, 1878
201,760     Speaking Machines. . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 28, 1878
203,016     Speaking Machines. . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 28, 1878
203,017     Telephone Call Signals . . . . . . . .Feb. 28, 1878
214,636     Electric Lights. . . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 5, 1878
222,390     Carbon Telephones. . . . . . . . . . . Nov. 8, 1878
217,782     Duplex Telegraphs. . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 11, 1878
214,637     Thermal Regulator for Electric Lights.Nov. 14, 1878
210,767     Vocal Engines. . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 31, 1878
218,166     Magneto Electric Machines. . . . . . . Dec. 3, 1878
218,866     Electric Lighting Apparatus. . . . . . Dec. 3, 1878
219,628     Electric Lights. . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 3, 1878
295,990     Typewriter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 4, 1878
218,167     Electric Lights. . . . . . . . . . . .Dec. 31, 1878

1879

224,329     Electric Lighting Apparatus. . . . . .Jan. 23, 1879
227,229     Electric Lights. . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 28, 1879
227,227     Electric Lights. . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 6, 1879
224.665     Autographic Stencils for Printing. . March 10, 1879
227.679     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . March 19, 1879
221,957     Telephone. . . . . . . . . . . . . . March 24, 1879
227,229     Electric Lights. . . . . . . . . . . April 12, 1879
264,643     Magneto Electric Machines. . . . . . April 21, 1879
219,393     Dynamo Electric Machines . . . . . . . July 7, 1879
231,704     Electro Chemical Receiving Telephone .July 17, 1879
266,022     Telephone. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 1, 1879
252,442     Telephone. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 4, 1879
222,881     Magneto Electric Machines. . . . . . .Sept. 4, 1879
223,898     Electric Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . . Nov. 1, 1879

1880

230,255     Electric Lamps . . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 28, 1880
248,425     Apparatus for Producing High Vacuums Jan.28 1880
265,311     Electric Lamp and Holder for Same. . . Jan. 28 1880
369,280     System of Electrical Distribution. . .Jan. 28, 1880
227,226     Safety Conductor for Electric Lights .March 10,1880
228,617     Brake for Electro Magnetic Motors. . March 10, 1880
251,545     Electric Meter . . . . . . . . . . . March 10, 1880
525,888     Manufacture of Carbons for Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . March 10, 1880
264,649     Dynamo or Magneto Electric Machines. March 11,
1880
228,329     Magnetic Ore Separator . . . . . . . .April 3, 1880
238,868     Manufacture of Carbons for Incandescent
            Electric Lamps . . . . . . . . . . . April 25, 1880
237,732     Electric Light . . . . . . . . . . . .June 15, 1880
248,417     Manufacturing Carbons for Electric
            Lights . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .June 15, 1880
298,679     Treating Carbons for Electric Lights .June 15, 1880
248,430     Electro Magnetic Brake . . . . . . . . July 2, 1880
265,778     Electro Magnetic Railway Engine. . . . July 3, 1880
248,432     Magnetic Separator . . . . . . . . . .July 26, 1880
239,150     Electric Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . .July 27, 1880
239,372     Testing Electric Light Carbons--Edison
            and Batchelor. . . . . . . . . . . . .July 28, 1880
251,540     Carbon Electric Lamps. . . . . . . . .July 28, 1880
263,139     Manufacture of Carbons for Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .July 28, 1880
434,585     Telegraph Relay. . . . . . . . . . . .July 29, 1880
248 423     Carbonizer . . . . . . . . . . . . . .July 30, 1880
263 140     Dynamo Electric Machines . . . . . . .July 30, 1880
248,434     Governor for Electric Engines. . . . .July 31, 1880
239,147     System of Electric Lighting. . . . . .July 31, 1880
264,642     Electric Distribution and Translation
            System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 4, 1880
293,433     Insulation of Railroad Tracks used for
            Electric Circuits. . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 6, 1880
239,373     Electric Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 7, 1880
239,745     Electric Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 7, 1880
263,135     Electric Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 7, 1880
251,546     Electric Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 10, 1880
239,153     Electric Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 11, 1880
351,855     Electric Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 11, 1880
248,435     Utilizing Electricity as Motive Power.Aug. 12, 1880
263,132     Electro Magnetic Roller. . . . . . . .Aug. 14, 1880
264,645     System of Conductors for the Distribution
            of Electricity . . . . . . . . . . . .Sept. 1, 1880
240,678     Webermeter . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sept. 22, 1880
239,152     System of Electric Lighting. . . . . .Oct. 14, 1880
239,148     Treating Carbons for Electric Lights .Oct. 15, 1880
238,098     Magneto Signalling Apparatus--Edison
            and Johnson. . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 21, 1880
242,900     Manufacturing Carbons for Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 21, 1880
251,556     Regulator for Magneto or Dynamo
            Electric Machines. . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 21, 1880
248,426     Apparatus for Treating Carbons for
            Electric Lamps . . . . . . . . . . . . Nov. 5, 1880
239,151     Forming Enlarged Ends on Carbon
            Filaments. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 19, 1880
12,631      Design Patent--Incandescent Electric
            Lamp . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 23, 1880
239,149     Incandescing Electric Lamp . . . . . . Dec. 3, 1880
242,896     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . . Dec. 3, 1880
242,897     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . . Dec. 3, 1880
248,565     Webermeter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 3, 1880
263,878     Electric Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 3, 1880
239,154     Relay for Telegraphs . . . . . . . . .Dec. 11, 1880
242,898     Dynamo Electric Machine. . . . . . . .Dec. 11, 1880
248,431     Preserving Fruit . . . . . . . . . . .Dec. 11, 1880
265,777     Treating Carbons for Electric Lamps. .Dec. 11, 1880
239,374     Regulating the Generation of Electric
            Currents . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Dec. 16, 1880
248,428     Manufacture of Incandescent Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Dec. 16, 1880
248,427     Apparatus for Treating Carbons for
            Electric Lamps . . . . . . . . . . . .Dec. 21, 1880
248,437     Apparatus for Treating Carbons for
            Electric Lamps . . . . . . . . . . . .Dec. 21, 1880
248,416     Manufacture of Carbons for Electric
            Lights . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Dec. 30, 1880

1881

242,899     Electric Lighting. . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 19, 1881
248,418     Electric Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . . Jan. 19 1881
248,433     Vacuum Apparatus . . . . . . . . . . . Jan. 19 1881
251,548     Incandescent Electric Lamps. . . . . .Jan. 19, 1881
406,824     Electric Meter . . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 19, 1881
248,422     System of Electric Lighting. . . . . .Jan. 20, 1881
431,018     Dynamo or Magneto Electric Machine . . Feb. 3, 1881
242,901     Electric Motor . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 24, 1881
248,429     Electric Motor . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 24, 1881
248,421     Current Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machine. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 25, 1881
251,550     Magneto or Dynamo Electric Machines. .Feb. 26, 1881
251,555     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 26, 1881
482,549     Means for Controlling Electric
            Generation . . . . . . . . . . . . . .March 2, 1881
248,420     Fixture and Attachment for Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .March 7, 1881
251,553     Electric Chandeliers . . . . . . . . .March 7, 1881
251,554     Electric Lamp and Socket or Holder . .March 7, 1881
248,424     Fitting and Fixtures for Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .March 8, 1881
248,419     Electric Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . March 30, 1881
251,542     System of Electric Light . . . . . . April 19, 1881
263,145     Making Incandescents . . . . . . . . April 19, 1881
266,447     Electric Incandescent Lamp . . . . . April 21, 1881
251,552     Underground Conductors . . . . . . . April 22, 1881
476,531     Electric Lighting System . . . . . . April 22, 1881
248,436     Depositing Cell for Plating the Connections
            of Electric Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . May 17, 1881
251,539     Electric Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . . May 17, 1881
263,136     Regulator for Dynamo or Magneto
            Electric Machine . . . . . . . . . . . May 17, 1881
251,557     Webermeter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . May 19, 1881
263,134     Regulator for Magneto Electric
            Machine. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . May 19, 1881
251,541     Electro Magnetic Motor . . . . . . . . May 20, 1881
251,544     Manufacture of Electric Lamps. . . . . May 20, 1881
251,549     Electric Lamp and the Manufacture
            thereof. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . May 20, 1881
251,558     Webermeter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . May 20, 1881
341,644     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . . May 20, 1881
251,551     System of Electric Lighting. . . . . . May 21, 1881
263,137     Electric Chandelier. . . . . . . . . . May 21, 1881
263,141     Straightening Carbons for Incandescent
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . May 21, 1881
264,657     Incandescent Electric Lamps. . . . . . May 21, 1881
251,543     Electric Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . . May 24, 1881
251,538     Electric Light . . . . . . . . . . . . May 27, 1881
425,760     Measurement of Electricity in Distribution
            System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .May 3 1, 1881
251,547     Electrical Governor. . . . . . . . . . June 2, 1881
263,150     Magneto or Dynamo Electric Machines. June 3, 1881
263,131     Magnetic Ore Separator . . . . . . . . June 4, 1881
435,687     Means for Charging and Using Secondary
            Batteries. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .June 21, 1881
263,143     Magneto or Dynamo Electric Machines. .June 24, 1881
251,537     Dynamo Electric Machine. . . . . . . .June 25, 1881
263,147     Vacuum Apparatus . . . . . . . . . . .July 1, 188 1
439,389     Electric Lighting System . . . . . . . July 1, 1881
263,149     Commutator for Dynamo or Magneto
            Electric Machines. . . . . . . . . . .July 22, 1881
479,184     Facsimile Telegraph--Edison and Kenny.July 26, 1881
400,317     Ore Separator. . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 11, 1881
425,763     Commutator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 20, 1881
263,133     Dynamo or Magneto Electric Machine . .Aug. 24, 1881
263,142     Electrical Distribution System . . . .Aug. 24, 1881
264,647     Dynamo or Magneto Electric Machines. .Aug. 24, 1881
404,902     Electrical Distribution System . . . .Aug. 24, 1881
257,677     Telephone. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Sept. 7, 1881
266,021     Telephone. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Sept. 7, 1881
263,144     Mold for Carbonizing Incandescents . Sept. 19, 1881
265,774     Maintaining Temperatures in
            Webermeters. . . . . . . . . . . . . Sept. 21, 1881
264,648     Dynamo or Magneto Electric Machines. Sept. 23, 1881
265,776     Electric Lighting System . . . . . . Sept. 27, 1881
524,136     Regulator for Dynamo Electrical
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sept. 27, 1881
273,715     Malleableizing Iron. . . . . . . . . . Oct. 4, 1881
281,352     Webermeter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 5, 1881
446,667     Locomotives for Electric Railways. . .Oct. 11, 1881
288,318     Regulator for Dynamo or Magneto
            Electric Machines. . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 17, 1881
263,148     Dynamo or Magneto Electric Machines. Oct. 25, 1881
264,646     Dynamo or Magneto Electric Machines. Oct. 25, 1881
251,559     Electrical Drop Light. . . . . . . . .Oct. 25, 1881
266,793     Electric Distribution System . . . . .Oct. 25, 1881
358,599     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . .Oct. 29, 1881
264,673     Regulator for Dynamo Electric Machine. Nov. 3, 1881
263,138     Electric Arc Light . . . . . . . . . . Nov. 7, 1881
265,775     Electric Arc Light . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 7 1881
297,580     Electric Arc Light . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 7 1881
263,146     Dynamo Magneto Electric Machines . . .Nov. 22, 1881
266,588     Vacuum Apparatus . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 25, 1881
251,536     Vacuum Pump. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 5, 1881
264,650     Manufacturing Incandescent Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 5, 1881
264,660     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 5, 1881
379,770     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . . Dec. 5, 1881
293,434     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . . Dec. 5, 1881
439,391     Junction Box for Electric Wires. . . . Dec. 5, 1881
454,558     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . . Dec. 5, 1881
264,653     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . .Dec. 13, 1881
358,600     Incandescing Electric Lamp . . . . . .Dec. 13, 1881
264,652     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . .Dec. 15, 1881
278,419     Dynamo Electric Machines . . . . . . .Dec. 15, 1881

1882

265,779     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 17, 1882
264,654     Incandescent Electric Lamps. . . . . .Feb. 10, 1882
264,661     Regulator for Dynamo Electric Machines Feb. 10, 1882
264,664     Regulator for Dynamo Electric Machines Feb. 10, 1882
264,668     Regulator for Dynamo Electric Machines Feb. 10, 1882
264,669     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 10, 1882
264,671     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 10, 1882
275,613     Incandescing Electric Lamp . . . . . .Feb. 10, 1882
401,646     Incandescing Electric Lamp . . . . . .Feb. 10, 1882
264,658     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 28, 1882
264,659     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 28, 1882
265,780     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 28, 1882
265,781     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 28, 1882
278,416     Manufacture of Incandescent Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 28, 1882
379,771     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 28, 1882
272,034     Telephone. . . . . . . . . . . . . . March 30, 1882
274,576     Transmitting Telephone . . . . . . . March 30, 1882
274,577     Telephone. . . . . . . . . . . . . . March 30, 1882
264,662     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .May 1, 1882
264,663     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .May 1, 1882
264,665     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .May 1, 1882
264,666     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .May 1, 1882
268,205     Dynamo or Magneto Electric
            Machine. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .May 1, 1882
273,488     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .May 1, 1882
273,492     Secondary Battery. . . . . . . . . . . May 19, 1882
460,122     Process of and Apparatus for
            Generating Electricity . . . . . . . . May 19, 1882
466,460     Electrolytic Decomposition . . . . . .May 19,. 1882
264,672     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . May 22, 1882
264,667     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . May 22, 1882
265,786     Apparatus for Electrical Transmission
            of Power . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . May 22, 1882
273,828 System of Underground Conductors of
            Electric Distribution. . . . . . . . . May 22, 1882
379,772     System of Electrical Distribution. . . May 22, 1882
274,292     Secondary Battery. . . . . . . . . . . June 3, 1882
281,353     Dynamo or Magneto Electric Machine . . June 3, 1882
287,523     Dynamo or Magneto Electric Machine . . June 3, 1882
365,509     Filament for Incandescent Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .June 3 1882
446,668     Electric Are Light . . . . . . . . . . .June 3 1882
543,985     Incandescent Conductor for Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . June 3, 1882
264,651     Incandescent Electric Lamps. . . . . . June 9, 1882
264,655     Incandescing Electric Lamps. . . . . . June 9, 1882
264,670     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . June 9, 1882
273,489     Turn-Table for Electric Railway. . . . June 9, 1882
273,490     Electro Magnetic Railway System. . . . June 9, 1882
401,486     System of Electric Lighting. . . . . .June 12, 1882
476,527     System of Electric Lighting. . . . . .June 12, 1882
439,390     Electric Lighting System . . . . . . .June 19, 1882
446,666     System of Electric Lighting. . . . . .June 19, 1882
464,822     System of Distributing Electricity . .June 19, 1882
304,082     Electrical Meter . . . . . . . . . . .June 24, 1882
274,296     Manufacture of Incandescents . . . . . July 5, 1882
264,656     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . . July 7, 1882
265,782     Regulator for Dynamo Electric Machines July 7, 1882
265,783     Regulator for Dynamo Electric Machines July 7, 1882
265,784     Regulator for Dynamo Electric Machines July 7, 1882
265,785     Dynamo Electric Machine. . . . . . . . July 7, 1882
273,494     Electrical Railroad. . . . . . . . . . July 7, 1882
278,418     Translating Electric Currents from High
            to Low Tension . . . . . . . . . . . . July 7, 1882
293,435     Electrical Meter . . . . . . . . . . . July 7, 1882
334,853     Mold for Carbonizing . . . . . . . . . July 7, 1882
339,278     Electric Railway . . . . . . . . . . . July 7, 1882
273,714     Magnetic Electric Signalling
            Apparatus. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 5, 1882
282,287     Magnetic Electric Signalling
            Apparatus. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 5, 1882
448,778     Electric Railway . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 5, 1882
439,392     Electric Lighting System . . . . . . .Aug. 12, 1882
271,613     Manufacture of Incandescent Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 25, 1882
287,518     Manufacture of Incandescent Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 25, 1882
406,825     Electric Meter . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 25, 1882
439,393     Carbonizing Chamber. . . . . . . . . .Aug. 25, 1882
273,487     Regulator for Dynamo Electric MachinesSept. 12, 1882
297,581     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . Sept. 12, 1882
395,962     Manufacturing Electric Lamps . . . . Sept. 16, 1882
287,525     Regulator for Systems of Electrical
            Distribution--Edison and C. L.
            Clarke . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 4, 1882
365,465     Valve Gear . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 5, 1882
317,631     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . . Oct. 7, 1882
307,029     Filament for Incandescent Lamp . . . . Oct. 9, 1882
268,206     Incandescing Electric Lamp . . . . . .Oct. 10, 1882
273,486     Incandescing Electric Lamp . . . . . .Oct. 12, 1882
274,293     Electric Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 14, 1882
275,612     Manufacture of Incandescent Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 14, 1882
430,932     Manufacture of Incandescent Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 14, 1882
271,616     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 16, 1882
543,986     Process for Treating Products Derived
            from Vegetable Fibres. . . . . . . . .Oct. 17, 1882
543,987     Filament for Incandescent Lamps. . . .Oct. 17, 1882
271,614     Shafting . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 19, 1882
271,615     Governor for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 19, 1882
273,491     Regulator for Driving Engines of
            Electrical Generators. . . . . . . . .Oct. 19, 1882
273,493     Valve Gear for Electrical Generator
            Engines. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 19, 1882
411,016     Manufacturing Carbon Filaments . . . .Oct. 19, 1882
492,150     Coating Conductors for Incandescent
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 19, 1882
273,485     Incandescent Electric Lamps. . . . . .Oct. 26, 1882
317,632     Incandescent Electric Lamps. . . . . .Oct. 26, 1882
317,633     Incandescent Electric Lamps. . . . . .Oct. 26, 1882
287,520     Incandescing Conductor for Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Nov. 3, 1882
353,783     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . . Nov. 3, 1882
430,933     Filament for Incandescent Lamps. . . . Nov. 3, 1882
274,294     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . .Nov. 13, 1882
281,350     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 13, 1882
274,295     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . .Nov. 14, 1882
276,233     Electrical Generator and Motor . . . .Nov. 14, 1882
274,290     System of Electrical Distribution. . .Nov. 20, 1882
274,291     Mold for Carbonizer. . . . . . . . . .Nov. 28, 1882
278,413     Regulator for Dynamo Electric MachinesNov. 28, 1882
278,414     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 28, 1882
287,519     Manufacturing Incandescing Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 28, 1882
287,524     Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 28, 1882
438,298     Manufacture of Incandescent Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 28, 1882
276,232     Operating and Regulating Electrical
            Generators . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Dec. 20, 1882

1883

278,415     Manufacture of Incandescent Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 13, 1883
278,417     Manufacture of Incandescent Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 13, 1883
281,349 Regulator for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 13, 1883
283,985     System of Electrical Distribution. . . Jan. 13 1883
283,986     System o' Electrical Distribution. . . Jan. 13 1883
459,835     Manufacture of Incandescent Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 13, 1883
13,940      Design Patent--Incandescing Electric
            Lamp . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 13 1883
280,727     System of Electrical Distribution. . . Feb. 13 1883
395,123     Circuit Controller for Dynamo Machine.Feb. 13, 1883
287,521     Dynamo or Magneto Electric Machine . .Feb. 17, 1883
287,522     Molds for Carbonizing. . . . . . . . .Feb. 17, 1883
438,299     Manufacture of Carbon Filaments. . . .Feb. 17, 1883
446,669     Manufacture of Filaments for Incandescent
            Electric Lamps . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 17, 1883
476,528     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . .Feb. 17, 1883
281,351     Electrical Generator . . . . . . . . .March 5, 1883
283,984     System of Electrical Distribution. . .March 5, 1883
287,517     System of Electrical Distribution. . .March 14,1883
283,983     System of Electrical Distribution. . .April 5, 1883
354,310     Manufacture of Carbon Conductors . . .April 6, 1883
370,123     Electric Meter . . . . . . . . . . . .April 6, 1883
411,017     Carbonizing Flask. . . . . . . . . . .April 6, 1883
370,124     Manufacture of Filament for Incandescing
            Electric Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . April 12, 1883
287,516     System of Electrical Distribution. . . .May 8, 1883
341,839     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . . .May 8, 1883
398,774     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . . .May 8, 1883
370,125     Electrical Transmission of Power . . . June 1, 1883
370,126     Electrical Transmission of Power . . . June 1, 1883
370,127     Electrical Transmission of Power . . . June 1, 1883
370,128     Electrical Transmission of Power . . . June 1, 1883
370,129     Electrical Transmission of Power . . . June 1, 1883
370,130     Electrical Transmission of Power . . . June 1, 1883
370,131     Electrical Transmission of Power . . . June 1, 1883
438,300     Gauge for Testing Fibres for
            Incandescent Lamp Carbons. . . . . . . June 1, 1883
287,511     Electric Regulator . . . . . . . . . .June 25, 1883
287,512     Dynamo Electric Machine. . . . . . . .June 25, 1883
287,513     Dynamo Electric Machine. . . . . . . .June 25, 1883
287,514     Dynamo Electric Machine. . . . . . . .June 25, 1883
287,515     System of Electrical Distribution. . .June 25, 1883
297,582     Dynamo Electric Machine. . . . . . . .June 25, 1883
328,572     Commutator for Dynamo Electric MachinesJune 25, 1883
430,934     Electric Lighting System . . . . . . .June 25, 1883
438,301     System of Electric Lighting. . . . . .June 25, 1883
297,583     Dynamo Electric Machines . . . . . . .July 27, 1883
304,083     Dynamo Electric Machines . . . . . . .July 27; 1883
304,084     Device for Protecting Electric Light
            Systems from Lightning . . . . . . . .July 27, 1883
438,302     Commutator for Dynamo Electric
            Machine. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .July 27, 1883
476,529     System of Electrical Distribution. . .July 27, 1883
297,584     Dynamo Electric Machine. . . . . . . . Aug. 8, 1883
307,030     Electrical Meter . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 8, 1883
297,585     Incandescing Conductor for Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sept. 14, 1883
297,586     Electrical Conductor . . . . . . . . Sept. 14, 1883
435,688     Process and Apparatus for Generating
            Electricity. . . . . . . . . . . . . Sept. 14, 1883
470,922     Manufacture of Filaments for
            Incandescent Lamps . . . . . . . . . Sept. 14, 1883
490,953     Generating Electricity . . . . . . . . Oct. 9, 1883
293,432     Electrical Generator or Motor. . . . .Oct. 17, 1883
307,031     Electrical Indicator . . . . . . . . . Nov. 2, 1883
337,254     Telephone--Edison and Bergmann . . . .Nov. 10, 1883
297,587     Dynamo Electric Machine. . . . . . . .Nov. 16, 1883
298,954     Dynamo Electric Machine. . . . . . . .Nov. 15, 1883
298,955     Dynamo Electric Machine. . . . . . . .Nov. 15, 1883
304,085     System of Electrical Distribution. . .Nov. 15, 1883
509,517     System of Electrical Distribution. . .Nov. 15, 1883
425,761     Incandescent Lamp. . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 20, 1883
304,086     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . .Dec. 15, 1883

1884

298,956     Operating Dynamo Electric Machine. . . Jan. 5, 1884
304,087     Electrical Conductor . . . . . . . . .Jan. 12, 1884
395,963     Incandescent Lamp Filament . . . . . .Jan. 22, 1884
526,147     Plating One Material with Another. . .Jan. 22, 1884
339,279     System of Electrical Distribution. . . Feb. 8, 1884
314,115     Chemical Stock Quotation Telegraph--
            Edison and Kenny . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 9, 1884
436,968     Method and Apparatus for Drawing
            Wire . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . June 2, 1884
436,969     Apparatus for Drawing Wire . . . . . . June 2, 1884
438,303     Arc Lamp . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . June 2, 1884
343,017     System of Electrical Distribution. . .June 27, 1884
391,595     System of Electric Lighting. . . . . .July 16, 1884
328,573     System of Electric Lighting. . . . . Sept. 12, 1884
328,574     System of Electric Lighting. . . . . Sept. 12, 1884
328,575     System of Electric Lighting. . . . . Sept. 12, 1884
391,596     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . Sept. 24, 1884
438,304     Electric Signalling Apparatus. . . . Sept. 24, 1884
422,577     Apparatus for Speaking Telephones--
            Edison and Gilliland . . . . . . . . .Oct. 21, 1884
329,030     Telephone. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 3, 1884
422,578     Telephone Repeater . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 9, 1884
422,579     Telephone Repeater . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 9, 1884
340,707     Telephonic Repeater. . . . . . . . . . Dec. 9, 1884
340,708     Electrical Signalling Apparatus. . . .Dec. 19, 1884
347,097     Electrical Signalling Apparatus. . . .Dec. 19, 1884
478,743     Telephone Repeater . . . . . . . . . .Dec. 31, 1884

1885

340,709     Telephone Circuit--Edison and
            Gilliland. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Jan. 2, 1885
378,044     Telephone Transmitter. . . . . . . . . Jan. 9, 1885
348,114     Electrode for Telephone Transmitters .Jan. 12, 1885
438,305     Fuse Block . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 14, 1885
350,234     System of Railway Signalling--Edison
            and Gilliland. . . . . . . . . . . . .March 27,1885
486,634     System of Railway Signalling--Edison
            and Gilliland. . . . . . . . . . . . .March 27,1885
333,289     Telegraphy . . . . . . . . . . . . . April 27, 1885
333,290     Duplex Telegraphy. . . . . . . . . . April 30, 1885
333,291     Way Station Quadruplex Telegraph . . . .May 6, 1885
465,971     Means for Transmitting Signals ElectricallyMay 14, 1885
422 072     Telegraphy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 7, 1885
437 422     Telegraphy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 7, 1885
422,073     Telegraphy . . . . . . . . . . . . . Nov. I 2, 1885
422,074     Telegraphy . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 24, 1885
435,689     Telegraphy . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 30, 1885
438,306     Telephone - Edison and Gilliland . . .Dec. 22, 1885
350,235     Railway Telegraphy--Edison and
            Gilliland. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Dec. 28, 1885

1886

406,567     Telephone. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 28, 1886
474,232     Speaking Telegraph . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 17, 1886
370 132     Telegraphy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . May 11, 1886
411,018     Manufacture of Incandescent Lamps. . .July 15, 1886
438,307     Manufacture of Incandescent Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . July I 5, 1886
448,779     Telegraph. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .July IS, 1886
411,019     Manufacture of Incandescent Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .July 20, 1886
406,130     Manufacture of Incandescent Electric
            Lamps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 6, 1886
351,856     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . Sept. 30, 1886
454,262     Incandescent Lamp Filaments. . . . . .Oct. 26, 1886
466,400     Cut-Out for Incandescent Lamps--Edison
            and J. F. Ott. . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 26, 1886
484,184     Manufacture of Carbon Filaments. . . .Oct. 26, 1886
490,954     Manufacture of Carbon Filaments for
            Electric Lamps . . . . . . . . . . . . Nov. 2, 1886
438,308     System of Electrical Distribution. . . Nov. 9, 1886
524,378     System of Electrical Distribution. . . Nov. 9, 1886
365,978     System of Electrical Distribution. . .Nov. 22, 1886
369 439     System of Electrical Distribution. . .Nov. 22, 1886
384 830     Railway Signalling--Edison and GillilandNov. 24, 1886
379,944     Commutator for Dynamo Electric MachinesNov. 26, 1886
411,020     Manufacture of Carbon Filaments. . . .Nov. 26, 1886
485,616     Manufacture of Carbon Filaments. . . . .Dec 6, 1886
485,615     Manufacture of Carbon Filaments. . . . .Dec 6, 1886
525,007     Manufacture of Carbon Filaments. . . . Dec. 6, 1886
369,441     System of Electrical Distribution. . .Dec. 10, 1886
369,442     System of Electrical Distribution. . .Dec. 16, 1886
369,443     System of Electrical Distribution. . .Dec. 16, 1886
484,185     Manufacture of Carbon Filaments. . . .Dec. 20, 1886
534,207     Manufacture of Carbon Filaments. . . .Dec. 20, 1886
373,584     Dynamo Electric Machine. . . . . . . .Dec. 21, 1886

1887

468,949     Converter System for Electric
            Railways . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 7, 1887
380,100     Pyromagnetic Motor . . . . . . . . . . May 24, 1887
476,983     Pyromagnetic Generator . . . . . . . . .May 24 1887
476,530     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . . June 1, 1887
377,518     Magnetic Separator . . . . . . . . . .June 30, 1887
470,923     Railway Signalling . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 9, 1887
545,405     System of Electrical Distribution. . .Aug. 26, 1887
380,101     System of Electrical Distribution. . .Sept. 13 1887
380,102     System of Electrical Distribution. . .Sept. 14 1887
470,924     Electric Conductor . . . . . . . . . Sept. 26, 1887
563,462     Method of and Apparatus for Drawing
            Wire . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 17, 1887
385,173     System of Electrical Distribution. . . Nov. 5, 1887
506,215     Making Plate Glass . . . . . . . . . . Nov. 9, 1887
382,414     Burnishing Attachments for PhonographsNov. 22, 1887
386,974     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 22, 1887
430,570     Phonogram Blank. . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 22, 1887
382,416     Feed and Return Mechanism for PhonographsNov. 29, 1887
382,415     System of Electrical Distribution. . . Dec. 4, 1887
382,462     Phonogram Blanks . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 5, 1887

1888

484,582     Duplicating Phonograms . . . . . . . .Jan. 17, 1888
434,586     Electric Generator . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 21, 1888
434,587     Thermo Electric Battery. . . . . . . .Jan. 21, 1888
382,417     Making Phonogram Blanks. . . . . . . .Jan. 30, 1888
389,369     Incandescing Electric Lamp . . . . . . Feb. 2, 1888
382,418     Phonogram Blank. . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 20, 1888
390,462     Making Carbon Filaments. . . . . . . .Feb. 20, 1888
394,105     Phonograph Recorder. . . . . . . . . .Feb. 20, 1888
394,106     Phonograph Reproducer. . . . . . . . .Feb. 20, 1888
382,419     Duplicating Phonograms . . . . . . . .March 3, 1888
425,762     Cut-Out for Incandescent Lamps . . . .March 3, 1888
396,356     Magnetic Separator . . . . . . . . . .March 19,1888
393,462     Making Phonogram Blanks. . . . . . . April 28, 1888
393,463     Machine for Making Phonogram Blanks. April 28, 1888
393,464     Machine for Making Phonogram Blanks. April 28, 1888
534,208     Induction Converter. . . . . . . . . . .May 7, 1888
476,991     Method of and Apparatus for Separating
            Ores . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .May 9, 1888
400,646     Phonograph Recorder and Reproducer . . May 22, 1888
488,190     Phonograph Reproducer. . . . . . . . . May 22, 1888
488,189     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . May 26, 1888
470,925     Manufacture of Filaments for Incandescent
            Electric Lamps . . . . . . . . . . . .June 21, 1888
393,465     Preparing Phonograph Recording SurfacesJune 30, 1888
400,647     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . .June 30, 1888
448,780     Device for Turning Off Phonogram BlanksJune 30, 1888
393,466     Phonograph Recorder. . . . . . . . . .July 14, 1888
393,966     Recording and Reproducing Sounds . . .July 14, 1888
393,967     Recording and Reproducing Sounds . . .July 14, 1888
430,274     Phonogram Blank. . . . . . . . . . . .July 14, 1888
437,423     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . .July 14, 1888
450,740     Phonograph Recorder. . . . . . . . . .July 14, 1888
485,617     Incandescent Lamp Filament . . . . . .July 14, 1888
448,781     Turning-Off Device for Phonographs . .July 16, 1888
400,648     Phonogram Blank. . . . . . . . . . . .July 27, 1888
499,879     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . .July 27, 1888
397,705     Winding Field Magnets. . . . . . . . .Aug. 31, 1888
435,690     Making Armatures for Dynamo Electric
            Machines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 31, 1888
430,275     Magnetic Separator . . . . . . . . . Sept. 12, 1888
474,591     Extracting Gold from Sulphide Ores . Sept. 12, 1888
397,280     Phonograph Recorder and Reproducer . Sept. 19, 1888
397,706     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sept. 29, 1888
400,649     Making Phonogram Blanks. . . . . . . Sept. 29, 1888
400,650     Making Phonogram Blanks. . . . . . . .Oct. 15, 1888
406,568     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 15, 1888
437,424     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 15, 1888
393,968     Phonograph Recorder. . . . . . . . . .Oct. 31, 1888

1889

406,569     Phonogram Blank. . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 10, 1889
488,191     Phonogram Blank. . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 10, 1889
430,276     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 12, 1889
406,570     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 1, 1889
406,571     Treating Phonogram Blanks. . . . . . . Feb. 1, 1889
406,572     Automatic Determining Device for
            Phonographs. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 1, 1889
406,573     Automatic Determining Device for
            Phonographs. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 1, 1889
406,574     Automatic Determining Device for
            Phonographs. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 1, 1889
406,575     Automatic Determining Device for
            Phonographs. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 1, 1889
406,576     Phonogram Blank. . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 1, 1889
430,277     Automatic Determining Device for
            Phonographs. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 1, 1889
437,425     Phonograph Recorder. . . . . . . . . . Feb. 1, 1889
414,759     Phonogram Blanks . . . . . . . . . . March 22, 1889
414,760     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . March 22, 1889
462,540     Incandescent Electric Lamps. . . . . March 22, 1889
430,278     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . .April 8, 1889
438,309     Insulating Electrical Conductors . . April 25, 1889
423,039     Phonograph Doll or Other Toys. . . . .June 15, 1889
426,527     Automatic Determining Device for
            Phonographs. . . . . . . . . . . . . .June 15, 1889
430,279     Voltaic Battery. . . . . . . . . . . .June 15, 1889
506,216     Apparatus for Making Glass . . . . . .June 29, 1889
414,761     Phonogram Blanks . . . . . . . . . . .July 16, 1889
430,280     Magnetic Separator . . . . . . . . . .July 20, 1889
437,426     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . .July 20, 1889
465,972     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 14, 1889
443,507     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 11 1889
513,095     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 11 1889

1890

434,588     Magnetic Ore Separator--Edison and
            W. K. L. Dickson . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 16, 1890
437,427     Making Phonogram Blanks. . . . . . . . Feb. 8, 1890
465,250     Extracting Copper Pyrites. . . . . . . Feb. 8, 1890
434,589     Propelling Mechanism for Electric VehiclesFeb. 14, 1890
438,310     Lamp Base. . . . . . . . . . . . . . April 25, 1890
437,428     Propelling Device for Electric Cars. April 29, 1890
437,429     Phonogram Blank. . . . . . . . . . . April 29, 1890
454,941     Phonograph Recorder and Reproducer . . .May 6, 1890
436,127     Electric Motor . . . . . . . . . . . . May 17, 1890
484,583     Phonograph Cutting Tool. . . . . . . . May 24, 1890
484,584     Phonograph Reproducer. . . . . . . . . May 24, 1890
436,970     Apparatus for Transmitting Power . . . June 2, 1890
453,741     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . July 5, 1890
454,942     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . July 5, 1890
456,301     Phonograph Doll. . . . . . . . . . . . July 5, 1890
484,585     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . July 5, 1890
456,302     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 4, 1890
476,984     Expansible Pulley. . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 9, 1890
493,858     Transmission of Power. . . . . . . . . Aug. 9, 1890
457,343     Magnetic Belting . . . . . . . . . . .Sept. 6, 1890
444,530     Leading-in Wires for Incandescent Electric
            Lamps (reissued October 10, 1905,
            No. 12,393). . . . . . . . . . . . . Sept. 12, 1890
534 209     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . Sept. 13, 1890
476 985     Trolley for Electric Railways. . . . .Oct. 27, 1890
500,280     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 27, 1890
541,923     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 27, 1890
457,344     Smoothing Tool for Phonogram
            Blanks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 17, 1890
460,123     Phonogram Blank Carrier. . . . . . . .Nov. 17, 1890
500,281     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 17, 1890
541,924     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 17, 1890
500,282     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 1, 1890
575,151     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 1, 1890
605,667     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 1, 1890
610,706     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 1, 1890
622,843     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 1, 1890
609,268     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 6, 1890
493,425     Electric Locomotive. . . . . . . . . .Dec. 20, 1890

1891

476,992     Incandescent Electric Lamp . . . . . .Jan. 20, 1891
470,926     Dynamo Electric Machine or Motor . . . Feb. 4, 1891
496,191     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 4, 1891
476,986     Means for Propelling Electric Cars . .Feb. 24, 1891
476,987     Electric Locomotive. . . . . . . . . .Feb. 24, 1891
465,973     Armatures for Dynamos or Motors. . . .March 4, 1891
470,927     Driving Mechanism for Cars . . . . . .March 4, 1891
465,970     Armature Connection for Motors or
            Generators . . . . . . . . . . . . . March 20, 1891
468,950     Commutator Brush for Electric Motors
            and Dynamos. . . . . . . . . . . . . March 20, 1891
475,491     Electric Locomotive. . . . . . . . . . June 3, 1891
475,492     Electric Locomotive. . . . . . . . . . June 3, 1891
475,493     Electric Locomotive. . . . . . . . . . June 3, 1891
475,494     Electric Railway . . . . . . . . . . . June 3, 1891
463,251     Bricking Fine Ores . . . . . . . . . .July 31, 1891
470,928     Alternating Current Generator. . . . .July 31, 1891
476,988     Lightning Arrester . . . . . . . . . .July 31, 1891
476,989     Conductor for Electric Railways. . . .July 31, 1891
476,990     Electric Meter . . . . . . . . . . . .July 31, 1891
476,993     Electric Arc . . . . . . . . . . . . .July 31, 1891
484,183     Electrical Depositing Meter. . . . . .July 31, 1891
485,840     Bricking Fine Iron Ores. . . . . . . .July 31, 1891
493,426     Apparatus for Exhibiting Photographs
            of Moving Objects. . . . . . . . . . .July 31, 1891
509,518     Electric Railway . . . . . . . . . . .July 31, 1891
589,168     Kinetographic Camera (reissued September
            30, 1902, numbered 12,037
            and 12,038, and January 12, 1904,
            numbered 12,192) . . . . . . . . . . .July 31, 1891
470,929     Magnetic Separator . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 28, 1891
471,268     Ore Conveyor and Method of Arranging
            Ore Thereon. . . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 28, 1891
472,288     Dust-Proof Bearings for Shafts . . . .Aug. 28, 1891
472,752     Dust-Proof Journal Bearings. . . . . .Aug. 28, 1891
472,753     Ore-Screening Apparatus. . . . . . . .Aug. 28, 1891
474,592     Ore-Conveying Apparatus. . . . . . . .Aug. 28, 1891
474,593     Dust-Proof Swivel Shaft Bearing. . . .Aug. 28, 1891
498,385     Rollers for Ore-Crushing or Other
            Material . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 28, 1891
470,930     Dynamo Electric Machine. . . . . . . . .Oct 8, 1891
476,532     Ore-Screening Apparatus. . . . . . . . .Oct 8, 1891
491,992     Cut-Out for Incandescent Electric LampsNov. 10, 1891

1892

491,993     Stop Device. . . . . . . . . . . . . . April 5 1892
564,423     Separating Ores. . . . . . . . . . . .June 2;, 1892
485,842     Magnetic Ore Separation. . . . . . . . July 9, 1892
485,841     Mechanically Separating Ores . . . . . July 9, 1892
513,096     Method of and Apparatus for Mixing
            Materials. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 24, 1892

1893

509,428     Composition Brick and Making Same. . March 15, 1893
513,097     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . May 22, 1893
567,187     Crushing Rolls . . . . . . . . . . . .Dec. 13, 1893
602 064     Conveyor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Dec. 13, 1893
534 206     Filament for Incandescent Lamps. . . .Dec. 15, 1893

1896

865,367     Fluorescent Electric Lamp. . . . . . . May 16, 1896

1897

604.740     Governor for Motors. . . . . . . . . .Jan. 25, 1897
607,588     Phonograph . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 25, 1897
637,327     Rolls. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . May 14, 1897
672,616     Breaking Rock. . . . . . . . . . . . . May 14, 1897
675,056     Magnetic Separator . . . . . . . . . . May 14, 1897
676,618     Magnetic Separator . . . . . . . . . . May 14, 1897
605,475     Drying Apparatus . . . . . . . . . . .June 10, 1897
605,668     Mixer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .June 10, 1897
667,201     Flight Conveyor. . . . . . . . . . . .June 10, 1897
671,314     Lubricating Journal Bearings . . . . .June 10, 1897
671,315     Conveyor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .June 10, 1897
675,057     Screening Pulverized Material. . . . .June 10, 1897

1898

713,209     Duplicating Phonograms . . . . . . . .Feb. 21, 1898
703,774     Reproducer for Phonographs . . . . . March 21, 1898
626,460     Filament for Incandescent Lamps and
            Manufacturing Same . . . . . . . . . .March 29,1898
648,933     Dryer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . April 11, 1898
661,238     Machine for Forming Pulverized
            Material in Briquettes . . . . . . . April 11, 1898
674,057     Crushing Rolls . . . . . . . . . . . April 11, 1898
703,562     Apparatus for Bricking Pulverized MaterialApril 11, 1898
704,010     Apparatus for Concentrating Magnetic
            Iron Ores. . . . . . . . . . . . . . April 11, 1898
659,389     Electric Meter . . . . . . . . . . . Sept. 19, 1898

1899

648,934     Screening or Sizing Very Fine MaterialsFeb. 6, 1899
663,015     Electric Meter . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 6, 1899
688,610     Phonographic Recording Apparatus . . .Feb. 10, 1899
643,764     Reheating Compressed Air for
            Industrial Purposes. . . . . . . . . .Feb. 24, 1899
660,293     Electric Meter . . . . . . . . . . . .March 23,1899
641,281     Expanding Pulley--Edison and Johnson .March 28,1899
727,116     Grinding Rolls . . . . . . . . . . . .June 15, 1899
652,457     Phonograph (reissued September 25,
            1900, numbered 11,857) . . . . . . . Sept. 12, 1899
648,935     Apparatus for Duplicating Phonograph
            Records. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 27, 1899
685,911     Apparatus for Reheating Compressed
            Air for Industrial Purposes. . . . . .Nov. 24, 1899
657,922     Apparatus for Reheating Compressed
            Air for Industrial Purposes. . . . . . Dec. 9, 1899

1900

676,840     Magnetic Separating Apparatus. . . . . Jan. 3, 1900
660,845     Apparatus for Sampling, Averaging,
            Mixing, and Storing Materials in Bulk Jan. 9, 1900
662,063     Process of Sampling, Averaging, Mixing,
            and Storing Materials in Bulk. . . . . Jan. 9, 1900
679,500     Apparatus for Screening Fine Materials Jan. 24, 1900
671,316     Apparatus for Screening Fine Materials  Feb. 23, 1900
671,317     Apparatus for Screening Fine Materials March 28, 1900
759,356     Burning Portland Cement Clinker, etc April 10, 1900
759,357     Apparatus for Burning Portland Cement
            Clinker, etc . . . . . . . . . . . . .April 10 1900
655,480     Phonographic Reproducing Device. . . .April 30 1900
657,527     Making Metallic Phonograph Records . April 30, 1900
667,202     Duplicating Phonograph Records . . . April 30, 1900
667,662     Duplicating Phonograph Records . . . April 30, 1900
713,863     Coating Phonograph Records . . . . . . May IS, 1900
676,841     Magnetic Separating Apparatus. . . . . June 11 1900
759,358     Magnetic Separating Apparatus. . . . . June 11 1900
680,520     Phonograph Records . . . . . . . . . .July 23, 1900
672,617     Apparatus for Breaking Rock. . . . . . Aug. 1, 1900
676,225     Phonographic Recording Apparatus . . .Aug. 10, 1900
703,051     Electric Meter . . . . . . . . . . . Sept. 28, 1900
684,204     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . . Oct. IS 1900
871,214     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . . Oct. IS 1900
704,303     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . .Dec. 22, 1900

1901

700,136     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . . Feb. 18 1901
700,137     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . . Feb. 23 1901
704,304     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . .Feb. 23, 1901
704,305     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . . May 10, 1901
678,722     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . .June 17, 1901
684,205     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . .June 17, 1901
692,507     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . .June 17, 1901
701,804     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . .June 17, 1901
704,306     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . .June 17, 1901
705,829     Reproducer for Sound Records . . . . .Oct. 24, 1901
831,606     Sound Recording Apparatus. . . . . . .Oct. 24, 1901
827,089     Calcining Furnaces . . . . . . . . . .Dec. 24, 1901


1902

734,522     Process of Nickel-Plating. . . . . . .Feb. 11, 1902
727,117     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . Sept. 29, 1902

727,118     Manufacturing Electrolytically Active
            Finely Divided Iron. . . . . . . . . .Oct. 13, 1902
721,682     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . .Nov. 13, 1902
721,870     Funnel for Filling Storage Battery JarsNov. 13, 1902
723,449     Electrode for Storage Batteries. . . .Nov. 13, 1902
723,450     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . .Nov. 13, 1902
754,755     Compressing Dies . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 13, 1902
754,858     Storage Battery Tray . . . . . . . . .Nov. 13, 1902
754,859     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . .Nov. 13, 1902
764,183     Separating Mechanically Entrained
            Globules from Gases. . . . . . . . . .Nov. 13, 1902
802,631     Apparatus for Burning Portland Cement
            Clinker. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 13, 1902
852,424     Secondary Batteries. . . . . . . . . .Nov. 13, 1902
722,502     Handling Cable Drawn Cars on Inclines. Dec. 18,
1902
724,089     Operating Motors in Dust Laden
            Atmospheres. . . . . . . . . . . . . .Dec. 18, 1902
750,102     Electrical Automobile. . . . . . . . .Dec. 18, 1902
758,432     Stock House Conveyor . . . . . . . . .Dec. 18, 1902
873,219     Feed Regulators for Grinding Machines. Dec. 18,
1902
832,046     Automatic Weighing and Mixing ApparatusDec. 18, 1902

1903

772,647     Photographic Film for Moving Picture
            Machine. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 13, 1903
841,677     Apparatus for Separating and Grinding
            Fine Materials . . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 22, 1903
790,351     Duplicating Phonograph Records . . . .Jan. 30. 1903
831,269     Storage Battery Electrode Plate. . . .Jan. 30, 1903
775,965     Dry Separator. . . . . . . . . . . . April 27, 1903
754,756     Process of Treating Ores from Magnetic
            Gangue . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . May 25, 1903
775,600     Rotary Cement Kilns. . . . . . . . . .July 20, 1903
767,216     Apparatus for Vacuously Depositing
            Metals . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . July 30 1903
796,629     Lamp Guard . . . . . . . . . . . . . . July 30 1903
772,648     Vehicle Wheel. . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 25, 1903
850,912     Making Articles by Electro-Plating . . .Oct 3, 1903
857,041     Can or Receptacle for Storage Batteries.Oct 3, 1903
766,815     Primary Battery. . . . . . . . . . . .Nov. 16, 1903
943,664     Sound Recording Apparatus. . . . . . .Nov. 16, 1903
873,220     Reversible Galvanic Battery. . . . . .Nov. 20, 1903
898,633     Filling Apparatus for Storage Battery
            Jars . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 8, 1903

1904

767,554     Rendering Storage Battery Gases Non-
            Explosive. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . June 8, 1904
861,241     Portland Cement and Manufacturing SameJune 20, 1904
800,800     Phonograph Records and Making Same . .June 24, 1904
821,622     Cleaning Metallic Surfaces . . . . . .June 24, 1904
879,612     Alkaline Storage Batteries . . . . . .June 24, 1904
880,484     Process of Producing Very Thin Sheet
            Metal. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .June 24, 1904
827,297     Alkaline Batteries . . . . . . . . . .July 12, 1904
797,845     Sheet Metal for Perforated Pockets of
            Storage Batteries. . . . . . . . . . .July 12, 1904
847,746     Electrical Welding Apparatus . . . . .July 12, 1904
821,032     Storage Battery. . . . . . . . . . . . Aug 10, 1904
861,242     Can or Receptacle for Storage Battery. Aug 10, 1904
970,615     Methods and Apparatus for Making
            Sound Records. . . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 23, 1904
817,162     Treating Alkaline Storage Batteries. Sept. 26, 1904
948,542     Method of Treating Cans of Alkaline
            Storage Batteries. . . . . . . . . . Sept. 28, 1904
813,490     Cement Kiln. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Oct 29, 1904
821,625     Treating Alkaline Storage Batteries. . Oct 29, 1904
821,623     Storage Battery Filling Apparatus. . . Nov. 1, 1904
821,624     Gas Separator for Storage Battery. . .Oct. 29, 1904

1905

879,859     Apparatus for Producing Very Thin-
            Sheet Metal. . . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 16, 1905
804,799     Apparatus for Perforating Sheet MetalMarch 17, 1905
870,024     Apparatus for Producing Perforated
            Strips . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . March 23, 1905
882,144     Secondary Battery Electrodes . . . . March 29, 1905
821,626     Process of Making Metallic Films or
            Flakes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .March 29,1905
821,627     Making Metallic Flakes or Scales . . .March 29,1905
827,717     Making Composite Metal . . . . . . . .March 29,1905
839,371     Coating Active Material with Flake-like
            Conducting Material. . . . . . . . . .March 29,1905
854,200     Making Storage Battery Electrodes. . .March 29,1905
857,929     Storage Battery Electrodes . . . . . March 29, 1905
860,195     Storage Battery Electrodes . . . . . April 26, 1905
862,145     Process of Making Seamless Tubular
            Pockets or Receptacles for Storage
            Battery Electrodes . . . . . . . . . April 26, 1905
839,372     Phonograph Records or Blanks . . . . April 28, 1905
813,491     Pocket Filling Machine . . . . . . . . May 15, 1905
821,628     Making Conducting Films. . . . . . . . May 20, 1905
943,663     Horns for Talking Machines . . . . . . May 20, 1905
950 226     Phonograph Recording Apparatus . . . . May 20, 1905
785 297     Gas Separator for Storage Batteries. .July 18, 1905
950,227     Apparatus for Making Metallic Films
            or Flakes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 10, 1905
936,433     Tube Filling and Tamping Machine . . .Oct. 12, 1905
967,178     Tube Forming Machines--Edison and
            John F. Ott. . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 16, 1905
880,978     Electrode Elements for Storage
            Batteries. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 31, 1905
880,979     Method of Making Storage Battery
            Electrodes . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oct. 31, 1905
850,913     Secondary Batteries. . . . . . . . . . Dec. 6, 1905
914,342     Storage Battery. . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 6, 1905

1906

858,862     Primary and Secondary Batteries. . . . Jan. 9, 1906
850,881     Composite Metal. . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 19, 1906
964,096     Processes of Electro-Plating . . . . .Feb. 24, 1906
914,372     Making Thin Metallic Flakes. . . . . .July 13, 1906
962,822     Crushing Rolls . . . . . . . . . . . .Sept. 4, 1906
923,633     Shaft Coupling . . . . . . . . . . . Sept. 11, 1906
962,823     Crushing Rolls . . . . . . . . . . . Sept. 11, 1906
930,946     Apparatus for Burning Portland Cement. Oct. 22,1906
898 404     Making Articles by Electro-Plating . . Nov. 2, 1906
930,948     Apparatus for Burning Portland Cement.Nov. 16, 1906
930,949     Apparatus for Burning Portland Cement. Nov. 26 1906
890,625     Apparatus for Grinding Coal. . . . . . Nov, 33 1906
948,558     Storage Battery Electrodes . . . . . .Nov. 28, 1906
964,221     Sound Records. . . . . . . . . . . . .Dec. 28, 1906

1907

865,688     Making Metallic Films or Flakes. . . .Jan. 11, 1907
936,267     Feed Mechanism for Phonographs and
            Other Machines . . . . . . . . . . . .Jan. 11, 1907
936,525     Making Metallic Films or Flakes. . . .Jan. 17, 1907
865,687     Making Nickel Films. . . . . . . . . .Jan. 18, 1907
939,817     Cement Kiln. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 8, 1907
855,562     Diaphragm for Talking Machines . . . .Feb. 23, 1907
939,992     Phonographic Recording and Reproducing
            Machine. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 25, 1907
941,630     Process and Apparatus for Artificially
            Aging or Seasoning Portland Cement . .Feb. 25, 1907
876,445     Electrolyte for Alkaline Storage BatteriesMay 8, 1907
914,343     Making Storage Battery Electrodes. . . May 15, 1907
861,819     Discharging Apparatus for Belt ConveyorsJune 11, 1907
954,789     Sprocket Chain Drives. . . . . . . . .June 11, 1907
909,877     Telegraphy . . . . . . . . . . . . . .June 18, 1907

1908

896,811     Metallic Film for Use with Storage Batteries
            and Process. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 4, 1908
940,635     Electrode Element for Storage Batteries Feb. 4,
1908
909,167     Water-Proofing Paint for Portland
            Cement Buildings . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 4, 1908
896,812     Storage Batteries. . . . . . . . . . March 13, 1908
944,481     Processes and Apparatus for Artificially
            Aging or Seasoning Portland Cement. March 13,1908
947,806     Automobiles. . . . . . . . . . . . . March 13,-1908
909,168     Water-Proofing Fibres and Fabrics. . . May 27, 1908
909,169     Water-Proofing Paint for Portland
            Cement Structures. . . . . . . . . . . May 27, 1908
970,616     Flying Machines. . . . . . . . . . . .Aug. 20, 1908

1909
930,947     Gas Purifier . . . . . . . . . . . . .Feb. 15, 1909
40,527     Design Patent for Phonograph Cabinet. Sept. 13, 1909


FOREIGN PATENTS


In addition to the United States patents issued to Edison,
as above enumerated, there have been granted to him (up to Oc-
tober, 1910) by foreign governments 1239 patents, as follows:

Argentine. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .1
Australia. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .6
Austria. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .101
Belgium. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88
Brazil . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .1
Canada . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .129
Cape of Good Hope. . . . . . . . . . . . .5
Ceylon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .4
Cuba . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
Denmark. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .9
France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .111
Germany. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .130
Great Britain. . . . . . . . . . . . . .131
Hungary. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30
India. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44
Italy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83
Japan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .5
Mexico . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
Natal. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .5
New South Wales. . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
New Zealand. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31
Norway . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16
Orange Free State. . . . . . . . . . . . .2
Portugal . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10
Queensland . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29
Russia . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17
South African Republic . . . . . . . . . .4
South Australia. . . . . . . . . . . . . .1
Spain. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54
Sweden . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
Switzerland. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
Tasmania . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .8
Victoria . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42
West Australia . . . . . . . . . . . . . .4
                                           
  ----
Total of Edison's Foreign Patents. . . 1239