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

observation, 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 repast, 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 already 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.

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