New York on October 1, 1832, were Dr. Charles T. Jackson, of Boston,
who had been attending certain lectures on electricity in Paris, and
an American artist named Samuel Finley Breese Morse. Dr. Jackson was
intensely interested in electricity, and more especially in some
experiments that Faraday had lately been making in regard to it. He
had an electromagnet in his trunk, and one day, as a number of the
passengers sat at dinner, he began to describe the laws of
electro-magnetism as they were then known. He told how the force of a
magnet could be tremendously increased by passing an electric current
a number of times about a bar of soft iron. One of the diners asked
how far electricity could be transmitted and how fast it traveled. Dr.
Jackson answered that it seemed to travel instantaneously, none of the
experimenters having detected any appreciable difference in time
between the completing of the electric circuit and the appearance of
the spark at any distance. Morse, who had been interested in the study
of electricity at Yale College, said that if the electric current
could be made visible in any part of the circuit he saw no reason why
messages could not be sent instantaneously by electricity. To send a
message would simply require the breaking of the circuit in such
different ways as could be made to represent the letters of the
alphabet. The conversation went on to other subjects, but the artist
kept the conclusion he had just stated in mind. That night he walked
the deck discussing the matter with Dr. Jackson, and for the rest of
the voyage he was busy jotting down suggestions in his note-book and
elaborating a plan for transforming breaks in an electric current into
letters.
The facts at his disposal, and his first method of dealing with them,
were comparatively simple. The electric current would travel to any
distance along a wire. The current being broken, a spark would appear.
The spark would stand for one letter. The lack of a spark might stand
for another. The length of its absence would indicate another. With
these three indications as a starting-point he could build up an
alphabet. As there was no limit to the distance that electricity would
travel there seemed no reason why these dots and dashes, or sparks and
spaces, should not be sent all around the world.
Professor Jeremiah Day had taught Morse at Yale that the electric
spark might be made to pierce a band of unrolling paper. Harrison Gray
Dyar, of New York, in 1827, had shown that the spark would decompose a
chemical solution and so leave a stain as a mark, and it was known
that it would excite an electro-magnet, which would move a piece of
soft iron, and that if a pencil were attached to this a mark would be
made on paper. Therefore Morse knew that if he devised his alphabet
he had only to choose the best method of indicating the dots and
dashes by the current. The voyage from Havre to New York occupied six
weeks, and during the greater part of this time he was busy working
out a mechanical sender which would serve to break the electric
current by a series of types set on a stick which should travel at an
even rate of speed. The teeth of the type would complete the circuit
or would break the current as they passed, and so send the letters. At
the receiving end of the line the current as it was sent would excite
the electro-magnet, which would be attached to a pencil, and so make a
mark, and each mark would represent one of the symbols that were to
stand for letters. He worked day and night over these first plans, and
after a few days showed his notes to Mr. William C. Rives, a
passenger, who had been the United States Minister to France. Mr.
Rives made various criticisms, and Morse took these up in turn, and
after long study overcame each one, so that by the end of the voyage
he felt that he had worked out a practical method of making the
electric current send and receive messages.
At a later date a contest arose as to the respective claims of Samuel
Morse and Dr. Jackson to be considered the inventor of the recording
telegraph, and the evidence of their fellow passengers on board the
_Sully_ was given in great detail. From all that was then said it
would appear that Dr. Jackson knew quite as much, if not more, about
the properties of electro-magnetism than Morse did, but that he was of
a speculative turn of mind, whereas Morse was practical, and capable
of reducing the other’s theories to a working basis. The note-books he
submitted, and which were well remembered by many of his fellow
voyagers, showed the various combinations of dots, lines, and spaces
with which he was constructing an alphabet, and also the crude
diagrams of the recording instrument which should mark the dots and
lines on a rolling piece of paper. Captain Pell, in command of the
_Sully_, testified later, that as the packet came into port Morse said
to him, “Well, Captain, should you hear of the telegraph one of these
days as the wonder of the world, remember that the discovery was made
on board the good ship _Sully_.” The times were ripe for his great
invention, and although other men, abler scientists and students, had
foreseen the possibilities of such a system, it was Morse who
determined to put it into practice.
But Samuel Morse was a painter, and all his career thus far had lain
along artistic lines. True, when he was an undergraduate at Yale he
had been much interested in Professor Day’s lectures on electricity,
and had written long letters home in regard to them. But when he was
about to graduate, he wrote to his father, a well-known clergyman of
Charlestown, Massachusetts, “I am now released from college, and am
attending to painting. As to my choice of a profession, I still think
I was made for a painter, and would be obliged to you to make such
arrangements with Mr. Allston for my studying with him as you shall
think expedient. I should desire to study with him during the winter;
and, as he expects to return to England in the spring, I should
admire to be able to go with him. But of this we will talk when we
meet at home.”
Washington Allston was at that time the leading influence in the
primitive art life of the country, and Morse was very fortunate to
have won his friendship and interest. Allston took him to England, and
there introduced him to Benjamin West, the dean of painters and a man
who was always eager to aid young countrymen of his who planned to
follow his career. Morse made a careful drawing of the Farnese
Hercules and took it to West. The veteran examined it and handed it
back, saying, “Now finish it.” Morse worked over it some time longer,
and returned it to West. “Very well, indeed, sir,” said West. “Go on
and finish it.” “Is it not finished?” asked Morse. “See,” said West,
“you have not marked that muscle, nor the articulation of the
finger-joints.” Again Morse worked over it, and again returned, only
to meet with the same counsel to complete the picture. Then the older
man relented. “Well, I have tried you long enough,” said he. “Now,
sir, you have learned more by this drawing than you would have
accomplished in double the time by a dozen half-finished beginnings.
It is not many drawings, but the character of one which makes a
thorough draughtsman. Finish one picture, sir, and you are a painter.”
Morse now decided to paint a large picture of “The Dying Hercules” for
exhibition at the Royal Academy. In order to be sure of the anatomy he
first modeled the figure in clay, and this cast was so well done that,
acting on West’s advice, he entered it for a prize in sculpture then
offered by the Society of Arts. This entry won, and the young American
was presented with the gold medal of the society before a
distinguished audience. The picture that he painted from this model
was hung at the exhibition of the Royal Academy, and received high
praise from the critics, so that Morse felt he had begun his career as
artist most auspiciously.
His natural inclination was toward the painting of large canvases
dealing with historical and mythical subjects, which were much in
fashion at that period, and he now set to work on the subject, “The
Judgment of Jupiter in the case of Apollo, Marpessa, and Idas.” This
was to be submitted for the prize of fifty guineas and medal offered
by the Royal Academy. It seems to have been a fine piece of work, and
met with West’s hearty praise, but before it could be submitted the
artist was obliged to return home at an urgent summons from his
father.
Boston had already heard of Morse’s success in London when he reached
home in October, 1815. His “Judgment of Jupiter” was exhibited, and
became the talk of the town, but when he opened a studio and began to
paint no one offered to buy any of his pictures. He needed money
badly, and he saw none coming his way. After a year’s struggle he
closed his studio, and traveled through the country sections of New
England, looking for work as a portrait painter. This he found, and he
wrote to his parents from Concord, New Hampshire, “I have painted five
portraits at $15 each, and have two more engaged and many talked of. I
think I shall get along well. I believe I could make an independent
fortune in a few years if I devoted myself exclusively to portraits,
so great is the desire for good portraits in the different country
towns.”
In Concord he met Miss Lucretia P. Walker, whom he married a few years
later. Meantime he went to visit his uncle in Charleston, South
Carolina, and found his portraits so popular that he received one
hundred and fifty orders in a few weeks. He was also commissioned to
paint a portrait of James Monroe, then President, for the Charleston
Common Council, and the picture was considered a striking masterpiece.
He soon after married, and settled his household goods in New York,
with $3,000 made by his portraits, as his capital.
He knew what he wanted to do, to paint great historical pictures. But
the public did not appreciate his efforts in that line. He painted a
large exhibition picture for the National House of Representatives,
but it was not purchased by the government. On the other hand the
Corporation of New York commissioned him to paint the portrait of
Lafayette, who was then visiting America. At the same time he became
enthusiastic over the founding of a new society of artists, and was
chosen the first president of the National Academy of Design.
His small capital was dwindling. His efforts to paint historical
pictures rather than portraits, and his share in paying off certain
debts of his father’s, had made great inroads on the money he had
saved. To add to his misfortunes his wife died in February, 1825. In
1829 he went abroad, visited the great galleries of Europe, and tried
to find a more ready market for his historical studies. It was on his
return from France in 1832 that the conversation of Dr. Jackson and
the other passengers turned his thoughts in the direction of an
electric telegraph.
Now came his gradual transformation from painter to inventor. His
brothers gave him a room with them in New York, and this became his
studio and laboratory at one and the same time. Easels and
plastercasts were mixed with type-moulds and galvanic batteries, and
Morse turned from a portrait to his working model of telegraph
transmitter and back again a dozen times a day. He painted to make his
living, but his interest was steadily turning to his invention.
He had many friends, and a wide reputation as a man of great
intellectual ability, and in a few years he was appointed the first
Professor of the Literature of the Arts of Design in the new
University of the City of New York. This gave him a home in the
university building on Washington Square, and there he moved his
apparatus. At this time he was chiefly concerned with the question of
how far a message could be sent by the electric current, for it was
known that the current grew feebler in proportion to the resistance of
the wire through which it travels. He had learned that the
electro-magnet at the receiving end would at any great distance become
so enfeebled that it would fail to make any record of the message. His
solution of this difficulty was a relay system. He explained this to
Professor Gale, a colleague at the university, who later testified as
to Morse’s work. “Suppose,” said the inventor, “that in experimenting
on twenty miles of wire we should find that the power of magnetism is
so feeble that it will not move a lever with certainty a hair’s
breadth: that would be insufficient, it may be, to write or print; yet
it would be sufficient to close and break another or a second circuit
twenty miles farther, and this second circuit could be made, in the
same manner, to break and close a third circuit twenty miles farther,
and so on around the globe.” Gale proved of great assistance. So far
Morse had only used his recorder over a few yards of wire, his
electro-magnet had been of the simplest make, and his battery was a
single pair of plates. Gale suggested that his simple electro-magnet,
with its few turns of thick wire, should be replaced by one with a
coil of long thin wire. In this way a much feebler current would be
able to excite the magnet, and the recorder would mark at a much
greater distance. He also urged the use of a much more powerful
battery. The two men now erected a working telegraph in the rooms of
the university, and found that they could send and receive messages at
will.
It is interesting to read Morse’s own words in regard to the beginning
of his work at Washington Square. “There,” he said, “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 passed 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.
“Up to the autumn of 1837 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 straightened were my circumstances that, in
order to save time to carry out my invention and to economize my
scanty means, I had for many 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.”
Before he devoted all his time to his invention Morse had been
anxious to paint a large historical picture for one of the panels in
the rotunda of the Capitol at Washington. His offer had been rejected,
and this had led a number of his friends to raise a fund and
commission him to paint such a picture. He chose as his subject “The
Signing of the First Compact on Board the _Mayflower_.” But he was now
so much engrossed with his experiments that he gave up the plan and
the fund was returned to the subscribers.
We have already heard in Morse’s statement of the arrival of Mr.
Alfred Vail. He was to have much to do with the success of Morse’s
invention. He had happened to call at the university building when the
inventor was showing his models to several visiting scientists.
“Professor Morse,” said Mr. Vail, “was exhibiting to these gentlemen
an apparatus which he called his Electro-Magnetic Telegraph. There
were wires suspended in the room running from one end of it to the
other, and returning many times, making a length of several hundred
feet. The two ends of the wire were connected with an electro-magnet
fastened to a vertical wooden frame. In front of the magnet was its
armature, and also a wooden lever or arm fitted at its extremity to
hold a lead pencil.... I saw this instrument work, and became
thoroughly acquainted with the principle of its operation, and, I may
say, struck with the rude machine, containing, as I believed, the germ
of what was destined to produce great changes in the conditions and
relations of mankind. I well recollect the impression which was then
made upon my mind.... Before leaving the room in which I beheld for
the first time this magnificent invention, I asked Professor Morse if
he intended to make an experiment on a more extended line of
conductors. He replied that he did, but that he desired pecuniary
assistance to carry out his plans. I promised him assistance provided
he would admit me into a share of the invention, to which proposition
he assented.... The question then arose in my mind, whether the
electro-magnet could be made to work through the necessary lengths of
line, and after much reflection I came to the conclusion that,
provided the magnet would work even at a distance of eight or ten
miles, there could be no risk in embarking in the enterprise. And upon
this I decided in my own mind to sink or swim with it.”
Alfred Vail secured his father’s financial assistance, and in
September, 1837, an agreement was executed by which Vail was to
construct a model of Morse’s telegraph for exhibition to Congress, and
to secure the necessary United States patents, in return for which he
was to have a one-fourth interest in these patent rights. The patent
was obtained on October 3, 1837, and Vail set to work to prepare the
new models. Almost all the apparatus that was used had to be specially
made for the purpose, or altered from its original use. The first
working battery was placed in a cherry-wood box divided into cells and
lined with beeswax, and the insulated wire was the same as that the
milliners used in building up the high bonnets fashionable at that
day. Vail made certain improvements as he worked on his model. He
replaced the recording pencil with a fountain pen, and instead of the
zigzag signals used the short and long lines that came to be called
“dots” and “dashes.” He learned from the typesetters of a newspaper
office what letters occurred most frequently in ordinary usage, and
constructed the Morse or Vail code on the principle of using the
simplest signals to represent those letters that would be most needed.
By the winter of 1837 many people had seen the telegraph instruments
at the university building, but few of them considered them more than
ingenious toys. Scientific men had talked of the possibilities of an
electric telegraph for a number of years, but the public had seen none
actually installed. Even Vail’s father began to doubt the wisdom of
his son’s investment. To convince him the young man, on January 6,
1838, asked his father to come to the experimenting shop where Morse
and he were working. He explained how the model operated, and said
that he could send any message to Morse, who was stationed some
distance away at the receiving end. The father took a piece of paper,
and wrote on it, “A patient waiter is no loser.” “There,” said he, “if
you can send this, and Mr. Morse can read it at the other end I shall
be convinced.” The message was sent over the wire, and correctly read
by Morse. Then Mr. Vail admitted that he was satisfied.
Morse now decided to bring his invention to the attention of Congress.
He was permitted to set up his apparatus in the room of the House
Committee on Commerce at the Capitol. There he gave an exhibition to
the committee, but most of them doubted if his plans for sending
long-distance messages were really feasible. On February 21, 1838,
he worked his telegraph through ten miles of wire contained on a reel,
with President Van Buren and his cabinet as an audience. Then he asked
that Congress appropriate sufficient money to enable him to construct
a telegraph line between Washington and Baltimore. The chairman of the
Committee on Commerce, Francis O. J. Smith, of Maine, was very much
interested by now, and drafted a bill appropriating $30,000 for this
purpose. But the bill did not come to a vote, and the matter was
allowed to drop.
[Illustration: MORSE AND THE FIRST TELEGRAPH]
Meantime rival claimants to the invention were appearing on all sides.
Morse decided that he must try to secure European patents, and went
abroad for that purpose. His claim was opposed in England, and in
France it was finally decided that in the case of such an invention
the government must be the owner. He was well received, and given the
fullest credit for his achievements, but the patents were refused, and
he had to return home with his small capital much depleted and
business prospects at a low ebb. Moreover, the United States
government now seemed to have lost interest in the subject, and his
partners, the Vails, were having financial difficulties of their own.
While he waited he continued to experiment. He believed that the
electric current could be sent under water as easily as through the
air, and to try this he insulated a wire two miles long with hempen
threads that were saturated with pitch-tar and wrapped with
India-rubber. He unreeled this cable from a small rowboat between
Castle Garden and Governor’s Island in New York Harbor on the night
of October 18, 1842. At daybreak Morse was at the station at the
Battery, and began to send a message through his submarine cable. He
had succeeded in sending three or four characters when the
communication suddenly stopped, and although he waited and kept on
with his trials no further letters could be transmitted. On
investigation it appeared that no less than seven ships were lying
along the line of Morse’s cable, and that one of these, in getting
under way, had lifted the cable on her anchor. The sailors hauled two
hundred feet of it on deck, and, seeing no end to it, cut it, and
carried part of it away with them. But the test had proved Morse’s
theory, and he became convinced that in time messages could be sent
across the ocean as easily as over land.
When Congress met in December, 1842, Morse again appeared in
Washington to obtain financial help. Congress was not very
enthusiastic over his project, but the House Committee on Commerce
finally recommended an appropriation of $30,000, and a bill to that
effect was passed in the House of Representatives by the small
majority of six votes. The Senate was overcrowded with bills, and
Morse’s was continually postponed. In the early evening of the last
day of the session there were one hundred and nineteen bills to come
to vote before his, and it seemed impossible that it should be taken
up. Morse, who had been sitting in the gallery all day, concluded that
further waiting was useless, and went back to his hotel, planning to
leave for New York early the next morning. He found that after paying
his hotel bill he would have less than half a dollar in the world.
But as he came down to breakfast the following morning he was met by
Miss Ellsworth, the daughter of his friend, the Commissioner of
Patents. She held out her hand, saying, “I have come to congratulate
you.”
“Congratulate me! Upon what?” asked Morse.
“On the passage of your bill,” she answered.
“Impossible! It couldn’t come up last evening. You must be mistaken,”
said the inventor.
“No,” said Miss Ellsworth, “father sent me to tell you that your bill
was passed. He remained until the session closed, and yours was the
last bill but one acted upon, and it was passed just five minutes
before the adjournment.”
In return for this news Morse promised that Miss Ellsworth should send
the first message when his telegraph line was opened. That same day he
wrote to Alfred Vail that the bill “was reached a few minutes before
midnight and passed. This was the turning point in the history of the
telegraph. My personal funds were reduced to the fraction of a dollar,
and, had the passage of the bill failed from any cause, there would
have been little prospect of another attempt on my part to introduce
to the world my new invention.”
It had been decided to construct an underground line between
Washington and Baltimore, the conductor being a five-wire cable laid
in pipes, but after several miles had been laid from Baltimore the
insulation broke down. A very large part of the government grant had
been spent, and the situation looked very dubious. But after some
discussion it was determined to carry the wire by poles, as this
could be done much more rapidly and at smaller expense.