CHAPTER XXII

1833--1836

Still painting.--Thoughts on art.--Picture of the Louvre.--Rejection as

painter of one of the pictures in the Capitol.--John Quincy Adams.--James

Fenimore Cooper's article.--Death blow to his artistic ambition.--

Washington Allston's letter.--Commission by fellow artists.--Definite

abandonment of art.--Repayment of money advanced.--Death of Lafayette.--

Religious controversies.--Appointed Professor in University of City of

New York.--Description of first telegraphic instrument.--Successful

experiments.--Relay.--Address in 1853.

It was impossible for the inventor during the next few years to devote

himself entirely to the construction of a machine to test his theories,

impatient though he must have been to put his ideas into practical form.

His two brothers came nobly to his assistance, and did what lay in their

power and according to their means to help him; but it was always

repugnant to him to be under pecuniary obligations to any one, and, while

gratefully accepting his brothers' help, he strained every nerve to earn

the money to pay them back. We, therefore, find little or no reference in

the letters of those years to his invention, and it was not until the

year 1835 that he was able to make any appreciable progress towards the

perfection of his telegraphic apparatus. The intervening years were spent

in efforts to rouse an interest in the fine arts in this country; in hard

work in behalf of the still young Academy of Design; and in trying to

earn a living by the practice of his profession.

"During this time," he says, "I never lost faith in the practicability of

the invention, nor abandoned the intention of testing it as soon as I

could command the means." But in order to command the means, he was

obliged to devote himself to his art, and in this he did not meet with

the encouragement which he had expected and which he deserved. His ideals

were always high, perhaps too high for the materialistic age in which he

found himself. The following fugitive note will illustrate the trend of

his thoughts, and is not inapplicable to conditions at the present day:--

"Are not the refining influences of the fine arts needed, doubly needed,

in our country? Is there not a tendency in the democracy of our country

to low and vulgar pleasures and pursuits? Does not the contact of those

more cultivated in mind and elevated in purpose with those who are less

so, and to whom the former look for political favor and power,

necessarily debase that cultivated mind and that elevation of purpose?

When those are exalted to office who best can flatter the low appetites

of the vulgar; when boorishness and ill manners are preferred to polish

and refinement, and when, indeed, the latter, if not avowedly, are in

reality made an objection, is there not danger that those who would

otherwise encourage refinement will fear to show their favorable

inclination lest those to whom they look for favor shall be displeased;

and will not habit fix it, and another generation bear it as its own

inherent, native character?"

That he was naturally optimistic is shown by a footnote which he added to

this thought, dated October, 1833:--

"These were once my fears. There is doubtless danger, but I believe in

the possibility, by the diffusion of the highest moral and intellectual

cultivation through every class, of raising the lower classes in

refinement."

But while in his leisure moments he could indulge in such hopeful dreams,

his chief care at that time, as stated at the beginning of this chapter,

was to earn money by the exercise of his profession. His important

painting of the Louvre, from which he had hoped so much, was placed on

exhibition, and, while it received high praise from the artists, its

exhibition barely paid expenses, and it was finally sold to Mr. George

Clarke, of Hyde Hall, on Otsego Lake, for thirteen hundred dollars,

although the artist had expected to get at least twenty-five hundred

dollars for it. In a letter to Mr. Clarke, of June 30, 1834, he says:--

"The picture of the Louvre was intended originally for an exhibition

picture, and I painted it in the expectation of disposing of it to some

person for that purpose who could amply remunerate himself from the

receipts of a well-managed exhibition. The time occupied upon this

picture was fourteen months, and at much expense and inconvenience, so

that that sum [$2500] for it, if sold under such circumstances, would not

be more than a fair compensation.

"I was aware that but few, if any, gentlemen in our country would be

willing to expend so large a sum on a single picture, although in fact

they would, in this case, purchase seven-and-thirty in one.

"I have lately changed my plans in relation to this picture and to my art

generally, and consequently I am able to dispose of it at a much less

price. I have need of funds to prosecute my new plans, and, if this

picture could now realize the sum of twelve hundred dollars it would at

this moment be to me equivalent in value to the sum first set upon it."

The change of plans no doubt referred to his desire to pursue his

electrical experiments, and for this ready money was most necessary, and

so he gladly, and even gratefully, accepted Mr. Clarke's offer of twelve

hundred dollars for the painting and one hundred dollars for the frame.

Even this was not cash, but was in the form of a note payable in a year!

His enthusiasm for his art seems at this period to have been gradually

waning, although he still strove to command success; but it needed a

decisive stroke to wean him entirely from his first love, and Fate did

not long delay the blow.

His great ambition had always been to paint historical pictures which

should commemorate the glorious events in the history of his beloved

country. In the early part of the year 1834 his great opportunity had,

apparently, come, and he was ready and eager to grasp it. There were four

huge panels in the rotunda of the Capitol at Washington, which were still

to be filled by historical paintings, and a committee in Congress was

appointed to select the artists to execute them.

Morse, president of the National Academy of Design, and enthusiastically

supported by the best artists in the country, had every reason to suppose

that he would be chosen to execute at least one of these paintings.

Confident that he had but to make his wishes known to secure the

commission, he addressed the following circular letter to various members

of Congress, among whom were such famous men as Daniel Webster, John C.

Calhoun, Henry Clay, and John Quincy Adams, all personally known to

him:--

March 7, 1834.

MY DEAR SIR,--I perceive that the Library Committee have before them the

consideration of a resolution on the expediency of employing four artists

to paint the remaining four pictures in the Rotunda of the Capitol. If

Congress should pass a resolution in favor of the measure, I should

esteem it a great honor to be selected as one of the artists.

I have devoted twenty years of my life, of which seven were passed in

England, France, and Italy, studying with special reference to the

execution of works of the kind proposed, and I must refer to my

professional life and character in proof of my ability to do honor to the

commission and to the country.

May I take the liberty to ask for myself your favorable recommendation to

those in Congress who have the disposal of the commissions?

With great respect, Sir,

Your most obedient servant,

S.F.B. MORSE.

While this letter was written in 1834, the final decision of the

committee was not made until 1837, but I shall anticipate a little and

give the result which had such a momentous effect on Morse's career.

There was every reason to believe that his request would be granted, and

he and his friends, many of whom endorsed by letter his candidacy, had no

fear as to the result; but here again Fate intervened and ordered

differently.

Among the committee men in Congress to whom this matter was referred was

John Quincy Adams, ex-President of the United States. In discussing the

subject, Mr. Adams submitted a resolution opening the competition to

foreign artists as well as to American, giving it as his opinion that

there were no artists in this country of sufficient talent properly to

execute such monumental works. The artists and their friends were,

naturally, greatly incensed at this slur cast upon them, and an indignant

and remarkably able reply appeared anonymously in the New York "Evening

Post." The authorship of this article was at once saddled on Morse, who

was known to wield a facile and fearless pen. Mr. Adams took great

offense, and, as a result, Morse's name was rejected and his great

opportunity passed him by. There can be no reasonable doubt that, had he

received this commission, he would have deferred the perfecting of his

telegraphic device until others had so far distanced him in the race that

he could never have overtaken them.

Instead of his having been the author of the "Evening Post" article, it

transpired that he had not even heard of Mr. Adams's resolution until his

friend Fenimore Cooper, the real author of the answer, told him of both

attack and reply.

This was the second great tragedy of Morse's life; the first was the

untimely death of his young wife, and this other marked the death of his

hopes and ambitions as an artist. He was stunned. The blow was as

unexpected as it was overwhelming, and what added to its bitterness was

that it had been innocently dealt by the hand of one of his dearest

friends, who had sought to render him a favor. The truth came out too

late to influence the decision of the committee; the die was cast, and

his whole future was changed in the twinkling of an eye; for what had

been to him a joy and an inspiration, he now turned from in despair. He

could not, of course, realize at the time that Fate, in dealing him this

cruel blow, was dedicating him to a higher destiny. It is doubtful if he

ever fully realized this, for in after years he could never speak of it

unmoved. In a letter to this same friend, Fenimore Cooper, written on

November 20, 1849, he thus laments:--

"Alas! My dear sir, the very name of _pictures_ produces a sadness of

heart I cannot describe. Painting has been a smiling mistress to many,

but she has been a cruel jilt to me. I did not abandon her, she abandoned

me. I have taken scarcely any interest in painting for many years. Will

you believe it? When last in Paris, in 1845, I did not go into the

Louvre, nor did I visit a single picture gallery.

"I sometimes indulge a vague dream that I may paint again. It is rather

the memory of past pleasures, when hope was enticing me onward only to

deceive me at last. Except some family portraits, valuable to me from

their likenesses only, I could wish that every picture I ever painted was

destroyed. I have no wish to be remembered as a painter, for I never was

a painter. My ideal of that profession was, perhaps, too exalted--I may

say is too exalted. I leave it to others more worthy to fill the niches

of art."

Of course his self-condemnation was too severe, for we have seen that

present-day critics assign him an honorable place in the annals of art,

and while, at the time of writing that letter, he had definitely

abandoned the brush, he continued to paint for some years after his

rejection by the committee of Congress. He had to, for it was his only

means of earning a livelihood, but the old enthusiasm was gone never to

return. Fortunately for himself and for the world, however, he

transferred it to the perfecting of his invention, and devoted all the

time he could steal from the daily routine of his duties to that end.

His friends sympathized with him most heartily and were indignant at his

rejection. Washington Allston wrote to him:--

I have learned the disposition of the pictures. I had hoped to find your

name among the commissioned artists, but I was grieved to find that all

my efforts in your behalf have proved fruitless. I know what your

disappointment must have been at this result, and most sincerely do I

sympathize with you. That my efforts were both sincere and conscientious

I hope will be some consolation to you.

But let not this disappointment cast you down, my friend. You have it

still in your power to let the world know what you can do. Dismiss it,

then, from your mind, and determine to paint all the better for it. God

bless you.

Your affectionate friend

WASHINGTON ALLSTON.

The following sentences from a letter written on March 14, 1837, by

Thomas Cole, one of the most celebrated of the early American painters,

will show in what estimation Morse was held by his brother artists:--

"I have learned with mortification and disappointment that your name was

not among the _chosen_, and I have feared that you would carry into

effect your resolution of abandoning the art and resigning the presidency

of our Academy. I sincerely hope you will have reason to cast aside that

resolution. To you our Academy owes its existence and present prosperity,

and if, in after times, it should become a great institution, your name

will always be coupled with its greatness. But, if you leave us, I very

much fear that the fabric will crumble to pieces. You are the keystone of

the arch; if you remain with us time may furnish the Academy with another

block for the place. I hope my fears may be vain, and that circumstances

will conspire to induce you to remain our president."

Other friends were equally sympathetic and Morse did retain the

presidency of the Academy until 1845.

To emphasize further their regard for him, a number of artists, headed by

Thomas S. Cummings, unknown to Morse, raised by subscription three

thousand dollars, to be given to him for the painting of some historical

subject. General Cummings, in his "Annals of the Academy," thus describes

the receipt of the news by the discouraged artist:--

"The effect was electrical; it roused him from his depression and he

exclaimed that never had he read or known of such an act of professional

generosity, and that he was fully determined to paint the picture--his

favorite subject, 'The Signing of the First Compact on board the

Mayflower,'--not of small size, as requested, but of the size of the

panels in the Rotunda. That was immediately assented to by the committee,

thinking it possible that one or the other of the pictures so ordered

might fail in execution, in which case it would afford favorable

inducements to its substitution, and, of course, much to Mr. Morse's

profit; as the artists from the first never contemplated taking

possession of the picture so executed. It was to remain with Mr. Morse,

and for his use and benefit."

The enthusiasm thus roused was but a flash in the pan, however; the wound

he had received was too deep to be thus healed. Some of the money was

raised and paid to him, and he made studies and sketches for the

painting, but his mind was now on his invention, and the painting of the

picture was deferred from year to year and finally abandoned. It was

characteristic of him that, when he did finally decide to give up the

execution of this work, he paid back the sums which had been advanced to

him, with interest.

Another grief which came to him in the summer of 1834 (to return to that

year) was the death of his illustrious friend General Lafayette. The last

letter received from him was written by his amanuensis and unsigned, and

simply said:--

"General Lafayette, being detained by sickness, has sent to the reporter

of the committee the following note, which the said reporter has read to

the House."

The note referred to is, unfortunately, missing. This letter was written

on April 29 and the General died on May 20. Morse sent a letter of

sympathy to the son, George Washington Lafayette, a member of the Chamber

of Deputies, in which the following sentiments occur:--

"In common with this whole country, now clad in mourning, with the lovers

of true liberty and of exalted philanthropy throughout the world, I

bemoan the departure from earth of your immortal parent. Yet I may be

permitted to indulge in additional feelings of more private sorrow at the

loss of one who honored me with his friendship, and had not ceased, till

within a few days of his death, to send to me occasional marks of his

affectionate remembrance. Be assured, my dear Sir, that the memory of

your father will be especially endeared to me and mine."

Morse's admiration of Lafayette was most sincere, and he was greatly

influenced in his political feelings by his intercourse with that famous

man. Among other opinions which he shared with Lafayette and other

thoughtful men, was the fear of a Roman Catholic plot to gain control of

the Government of the United States. He defended his views fearlessly and

vigorously in the public press and by means of pamphlets, and later

entered into a heated controversy with Bishop Spaulding of Kentucky.

I shall not attempt to treat exhaustively of these controversies, but

think it only right to refer to them from time to time, not only that the

clearest possible light may be shed upon Morse's character and

convictions, but to show the extraordinary activity of his brain, which,

while he was struggling against obstacles of all kinds, not only to make

his invention a success, but for the very means of existence, could yet

busy itself with the championing of what he conceived to be the right.

To illustrate his point of view I shall quote a few extracts from a

letter to R.S. Willington, Esq., who was the editor of a journal which is

referred to as the "Courier." This letter was written on May 20, 1835,

when Morse's mind, we should think, would have been wholly absorbed in

the details of the infant telegraph:--

"With regard to the more important matter of the Conspiracy, I perceive

with regret that the evidence which has been convincing to so many minds

of the first order, and which continues daily to spread conviction of the

truth of the charge I have made, is still viewed by the editors of the

'Courier' as inconclusive. My situation in regard to those who dissent

from me is somewhat singular. I have brought against the absolute

Governments of Europe a charge of conspiracy against the liberties of the

United States. I support the charge by facts, and by reasonings from

those facts, which produce conviction on most of those who examine the

matter.... But those that dissent simply say, 'I don't think there is a

conspiracy'; yet give no reasons for dissent. The Catholic journals very

artfully make no defense themselves, but adroitly make use of the

Protestant defense kindly prepared for them....

"No Catholic journal has attempted any refutation of the charge. It

cannot be refuted, for it is true. And be assured, my dear sir, it is no

extravagant prediction when I say that the question of Popery and

Protestantism, or Absolutism and Republicanism, which in these two

opposite categories are convertible terms, is fast becoming and will

shortly be the _great absorbing question_, not only of this country but

of the whole civilized world. I speak not at random; I speak from long

and diligent observation in Europe, and from comparison of the state of

affairs in this country with the state of public opinion in Europe.

"We are asleep, sir, when every freeman should be awake and look to his

arms.... Surely, if the danger is groundless, there can be no harm in

endeavoring to ascertain its groundlessness. If you were told your house

was on fire you would hardly think of calling the man a maniac for

informing you of it, even if he should use a tone of voice and gestures

somewhat earnest and impassioned. The course of some of our journals on

the subject of Popery has led to the belief that they are covertly under

the control of the Jesuits. And let me say, sir, that the modes of

control in the resources of this insidious society, notorious for its

political arts and intrigues, are more numerous, more powerful, and more

various than an unsuspicious people are at all conscious of....

"Mr. Y. falls into the common error and deprecates what he calls a

_religious_ controversy, as if the subject of Popery was altogether

religious. History, it appears to me, must have been read to very little

purpose by any one who can entertain such an error in regard to the

cunningest political despotism that ever cursed mankind. I must refer you

to the preface of the second edition, which I send you, for my reasonings

on that point. If they are not conclusive, I should be glad to be shown

wherein they are defective. If they are conclusive, is it not time for

every patriot to open his eyes to the truth of the fact that we are

politically attacked under guise of a religious system, and is it not a

serious question whether our political press should advocate the cause of

foreign enemies to our government, or help to expose and repel them?"

It was in the year 1835 that Morse was appointed Professor of the

Literature of the Arts of Design in the University of the City of New

York, and here again we can mark the guiding hand of Fate. A few years

earlier he had been tentatively offered the position of instructor of

drawing at the United States Military Academy at West Point, but this

offer he had promptly but courteously declined. Had he accepted it he

would have missed the opportunity of meeting certain men who gave him

valuable assistance. As an instructor in the University he not only

received a small salary which relieved him, in a measure, from the

grinding necessity of painting pot-boilers, but he had assigned to him

spacious rooms in the building on Washington Square, which he could

utilize not only as studio and living apartments, but as a workshop. For

these rooms, however, he paid a rent, at first of $325 a year, afterwards

of $400.

Three years had clasped since his first conception of the invention, and,

although burning to devote himself to its perfecting, he had been

compelled to hold himself in check and to devote all his time to

painting. Now, however, an opportunity came to him, for he moved into the

University building before it was entirely finished, and the stairways

were in such an embryonic state that he could not expect sitters to

attempt their perilous ascent. This enforced leisure gave him the chance

he had long desired and he threw himself heart and soul into his

electrical experiments. Writing of this period in later years he thus

records his struggles:--

[Illustration: FIRST TELEGRAPH INSTRUMENT, 1837

Now in the National Museum, Washington]

"There I immediately commenced, with very limited means, to experiment

upon my invention. My first instrument was made up of an old picture or

canvas frame fastened to a table; the wheels of an old wooden clock moved

by a weight to carry the paper forward; three wooden drums, upon one of

which the paper was wound and passed over the other two; a wooden

pendulum, suspended to the top piece of the picture or stretching-frame,

and vibrating across the paper as it passes over the centre wooden drum;

a pencil at the lower end of the pendulum in contact with the paper; an

electro-magnet fastened to a shelf across the picture or stretching

frame, opposite to an armature made fast to the pendulum; a type rule and

type, for breaking the circuit, resting on an endless band composed of

carpet-binding; which passed over two wooden rollers, moved by a wooden

crank, and carried forward by points projecting from the bottom of the

rule downward into the carpet-binding; a lever, with a small weight on

the upper side, and a tooth projecting downward at one end, operated on

by the type, and a metallic fork, also projecting downward, over two

mercury cups; and a short circuit of wire embracing the helices of the

electro-magnet connected with the positive and negative poles of the

battery and terminating in the mercury cups."

This first rude instrument was carefully preserved by the inventor, and

is now in the Morse case in the National Museum at Washington. A

reproduction of it is here given.

I shall omit certain technical details in the inventor's account of this

first instrument, but I wish to call attention to his ingenuity in

adapting the means at his disposal to the end desired. Much capital has

been made, by those who opposed his claims, out of the fact that this

primitive apparatus could only produce a V-shaped mark, thus--

__ __ _

\/|__| |/\/ |/\/|__/

--and not a dot and a dash, which they insist was of later introduction

and by another hand. But a reference to the sketches made on board the

Sully will show that the original system of signs consisted of dots and

lines, and that the first conception of the means to produce these signs

was by an up-and-down motion of a lever controlled by an electro-magnet.

It is easy to befog an issue by misstating facts, but the facts are here

to speak for themselves, and that Morse temporarily abandoned his first

idea, because he had not the means at his disposal to embody it in

workable form and had recourse to another method for producing

practically the same result, only shows wonderful ingenuity on his part.

It can easily be seen that the waving line traced by the first

instrument--thus,

__ __ _

\/|__| |/\/ |/\/|__/ --can be translated by reading the lower part into

a i u

. - . . . . - of the final Morse alphabet.

The beginnings of every great invention have been clumsy and uncouth

compared with the results attained by years of study and elaboration

participated in by many clever brains. Contrast the Clermont of Fulton

with the floating palaces of the present day, the Rocket of Stephenson

with the powerful locomotives of our mile-a-minute fliers, and the

hand-press of Gutenberg with the marvellous and intricate Hoe presses of

modern times. And yet the names of those who first conceived and wrought

these primitive contrivances stand highest in the roll of fame; and with

justice, for it is infinitely easier to improve on the suggestion of

another than to originate a practical advance in human endeavor.

Returning again to Morse's own account of his early experiments I shall

quote the following sentences:--

"With this apparatus, rude as it was, and completed before the first of

the year 1836, I was enabled to and did mark down telegraphic,

intelligible signs, and to make and did make distinguishable sounds for

telegraphing; and, having arrived at that point, I exhibited it to some

of my friends early in that year, and among others to Professor Leonard

D. Gale, who was a college professor in the University. I also

experimented with the chemical power of the electric current in 1836, and

succeeded, in marking my telegraphic signs upon paper dipped in turmeric

and solution of the sulphate of soda (as well as other salts) by passing

the current through it. I was soon satisfied, however, that the

electro-_magnetic_ power was more available for telegraphic purposes and

possessed many advantages over any other, and I turned my thoughts in

that direction.

"Early in 1836 I procured forty feet of wire, and, putting it in the

circuit, I found that my battery of one cup was not sufficient to work my

instrument. This result suggested to me the probability that the

magnetism to be obtained from the electric current would diminish in

proportion as the circuit was lengthened, so as to be insufficient for

any practical purposes at great distances; and, to remove that probable

obstacle to my success, I conceived the idea of combining two or more

circuits together in the manner described in my first patent, each with

an independent battery, making use of the magnetism of the current on the

first to close and break the second; the second the third; and so on."

Thus modestly does he refer to what was, in fact, a wonderful discovery,

the more wonderful because of its simplicity. Professor Horsford thus

comments on it:--

"In 1835 Morse made the discovery of the _relay_, the most brilliant of

all the achievements to which his name must be forever attached. It was a

discovery of a means by which the current, which through distance from

its source had become feeble, could be reënforced or renewed. This

discovery, according to the different objects for which it is employed,

is variously known as the registering magnet, the local circuit, the

marginal circuit, the repeater, etc."

Professor Horsford places the date of this discovery in the year 1835,

but Morse himself, in the statement quoted above, assigned it to the

early part of 1836.

It is only fair to note that the discovery of the principle of the relay

was made independently by other scientists, notably by Davy, Wheatstone,

and Henry, but Morse apparently antedated them by a year or two, and

could not possibly have been indebted to any of them for the idea. This

point has given rise to much discussion among scientists which it will

not be necessary to enter into here, for all authorities agree in

according to Morse independent invention of the relay.

"Up to the autumn of 1837," again to quote Morse's own words, "my

telegraphic apparatus existed in so rude a form that I felt a reluctance

to have it seen. My means were very limited--so limited as to preclude

the possibility of constructing an apparatus of such mechanical finish as

to warrant my success in venturing upon its public exhibition. I had no

wish to expose to ridicule the representative of so many hours of

laborious thought.

"Prior to the summer of 1837, at which time Mr. Alfred Vail's attention

became attracted to my telegraph, I depended upon my pencil for

subsistence. Indeed, so straitened were my circumstances that, in order

to save time to carry out my invention and to economize my scanty means,

I had for months lodged and eaten in my studio, procuring my food in

small quantities from some grocery, and preparing it myself. To conceal

from my friends the stinted manner in which I lived, I was in the habit

of bringing my food to my room in the evenings, and this was my mode of

life for many years."

Nearly twenty years later, in 1853, Morse referred to this trying period

in his career at a meeting of the Association of the Alumni of the

University:--

"Yesternight, on once more entering your chapel, I saw the same marble

staircase and marble floors I once so often trod, and so often with a

heart and head overburdened with almost crushing anxieties. Separated

from the chapel by but a thin partition was that room I occupied, now

your Philomathean Hall, whose walls--had thoughts and mental struggles,

with the alternations of joys and sorrows, the power of being

daguerreotyped upon them--would show a thickly studded gallery of

evidence that there the Briarean infant was born who has stretched forth

his arms with the intent to encircle the world. Yes, that room of the

University was the birthplace of the Recording Telegraph. Attempts,

indeed, have been made to assign to it other parentage, and to its

birthplace other localities. Personally I have very little anxiety on

this point, except that the truth should not suffer; for I have a

consciousness, which neither sophistry nor ignorance can shake, that that

room is the place of its birth, and a confidence, too, that its cradle is

in hands that will sustain its rightful claim."

The old building of the University of the City of New York on Washington

Square has been torn down to be replaced by a mercantile structure; the

University has moved to more spacious quarters in the upper part of the

great city; but one of its notable buildings is the Hall of Fame, and

among the first names to be immortalized in bronze in the stately

colonnade was that of Samuel F.B. Morse.

Samuel F. B. Morse, His Letters and Journals In Two Volumes, Volume II · 第 2 / 21 章