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 became 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 summertime, 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 collection 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 frequent 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 construction,

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 galvanometer-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.

Edison: His Life and Inventions · 第 25 / 32 章