"FINIS CORONAT OPUS"
Renewed "Stock-Taking"--The Last Start--Successful Termination--General
Surprise and Applause
The sad tale of disaster commenced to spread abroad immediately on the
Niagara's arrival in Queenstown; and when Mr. Field hastened to London
to meet the other directors of the company, he found that the news had
not only preceded him, but had already had its effect.
The Board was soon called together. It met as a council of war summoned
after a terrific defeat to decide whether to surrender or to try once
more the chances of battle. Says Field: "Most of the directors looked
blankly in one another's faces." With some the feeling was one akin to
despair. It was thought by many that there was nothing left on which to
found an expectation of future success, or to encourage the expenditure
of further capital upon an adventure so "completely visionary." The
chairman (Sir William Brown), while recommending entire abandonment of
the undertaking, suggested "a sale of the cable remaining on board the
ships, and a distribution of the proceeds among the shareholders."
Bolder counsels were, however, destined to prevail. There were those who
thought there was still a chance, like Robert Bruce, who, after twelve
battles and twelve defeats, yet believed that a thirteenth _might_ bring
victory, notwithstanding the prejudice held by some against that number.
The projectors made a firm stand for immediate action, as did also
Professor Thomson and Mr. Curtis Lampson, who succeeded Mr. Brooking as
deputy chairman, at the same time that Mr. Stuart Wortley took the chair
in place of Sir W. Brown, on the latter's resignation. These advocates
of non-surrender succeeded at length in carrying an order for the
immediate sailing of the expedition for a final effort. It was this
effort which proved to the world the possibility of telegraphing from
one hemisphere to the other.
The order to advance having been given, the ships forthwith took in coal
and other necessaries.
When everything and everybody had been shipped, the squadron left
Queenstown once more on Saturday, July 17, 1858. As the ships sailed out
of the harbor of Cork, it was with none of the enthusiasm which attended
their departure from Valentia the year before, or even the small amount
excited when leaving Plymouth on June 10th. Nobody so much as cheered.
In fact, their mission was by this time spoken of as a "mad freak of
stubborn ignorance," and "was regarded with mixed feelings of derision
and pity."[33]
The squadron was the same as on the last occasion. It was agreed that
the ships should not attempt to keep together this time, but that each
should make its way to the given latitude and longitude. The staffs were
composed and berthed as before. Moreover, the expedition was again
accompanied by the same literary talent.
_The Last Start._--Let us now turn to The Times narrative, as given at
the conclusion of this final expedition:
As the ships left the harbor there was apparently no notice taken
of their departure by those on shore or in the vessels anchored
around them. Every one seemed impressed with the conviction that we
were engaged in a hopeless enterprise; and the squadron seemed
rather to have slunk away on some discreditable mission than to
have sailed for the accomplishment of a grand national scheme. It
was just dawn when the Agamemnon got clear of Queenstown harbor,
but, as the wind blew stiff from the southwest, it was nearly ten
o'clock before she rounded the Old Head of Kinsale, a distance of
only a few miles. The weather remained fine during the day; and as
the Agamemnon skirted along the wild and rocky shore of the
southwest coast of Ireland, those on board had an excellent
opportunity of seeing the stupendous rocks which rise from the
water in the most grotesque and fantastic shapes. About five
o'clock in the afternoon Cape Clear was passed, and though the
coast gradually edged away to the northward of our course, yet it
was nearly dark before we lost sight of the rocky mountains which
surround Bantry Bay and the shores of the Kenmare River. By Monday,
the 19th, we had left the land far behind us, and thence fell into
the usual dull monotony of sea life.
Of the voyage out there is little to be said. It was not checkered
by the excitement of continual storms or the tedium of perpetual
calms, but we had a sufficient admixture of both to render our
passage to the rendezvous a very ordinary and uninteresting one.
For the first week the barometer remained unusually low, and the
numbers of those natural barometers--Mother Carey's chickens--that
kept in our wake kept us in continual expectation of heavy weather.
With very little breeze or wind, the screw was got up and sail
made, so as to husband our coals as much as possible; but it
generally soon fell calm, and obliged Captain Preedy reluctantly to
get up steam again. In consequence of continued delays and changes
from steam to sail, and from sail to steam again, much fuel was
expended, and not more than eighty miles of distance made good each
day. On Sunday, the 25th, however, the weather changed, and for
several days in succession there was an uninterrupted calm. The
moon was just at the full, and for several nights it shone with a
brilliancy which turned the smooth sea into one silvery sheet,
which brought out the dark hull and white sails of the ship in
strong contrast to the sea and sky as the vessel lay all but
motionless on the water, the very impersonation of solitude and
repose. Indeed, until the rendezvous was gained, we had such a
succession of beautiful sunrises, gorgeous sunsets, and tranquil
moonlight nights as would have excited the most enthusiastic
admiration of any one but persons situated as we were. But by us
such scenes were regarded only as the annoying indications of the
calm which delayed our progress and wasted our coals. To say that
it was calm is not doing full justice to it; there was not a breath
in the air, and the water was as smooth as a mill-pond. Even the
wake of the ship scarce ruffled the surface; and the gulls which
had visited us almost daily, and to which our benevolent liberality
had dispensed innumerable pieces of pork, threw an almost unbroken
shadow upon it as they stooped in their flight to pick up the
largest and most tempting. It was generally remarked that
cable-laying under such circumstances would be mere child's play.
In spite of the unusual calmness of the weather in general, there
were days on which our former unpleasant experiences of the
Atlantic were brought forcibly to our recollection, when it blew
hard and the sea ran sufficiently high to reproduce on a minor
scale some of the discomforts of which the previous cruise had
been so fruitful. Those days, however, were the exception and not
the rule, and served to show how much more pleasant was the
inconvenient calm than the weather which had previously prevailed.
The precise point of the rendezvous--marked by a dot on the
chart--was reached on the evening of Wednesday, July 28th, just
eleven days after our departure from Queenstown. The voyage out was
a lazy one. Now things are different, and we no longer hear of the
prospects of the heroes and heroines of the romances and novels
which have formed the staple food for animated discussion for some
days past. The rest of the squadron were in sight at nightfall, but
at such a considerable distance that it was past ten o'clock on the
morning of Thursday the 29th, before the Agamemnon joined them.
Some time previous to reaching the rendezvous the engineer-in-chief
(Mr. Bright) went up in the shrouds on the lookout for the other
ships, and accordingly had to "pay his footing"--much to the
amusement of his staff. Most of them being more advanced in years
would not probably have been so equal to the task in an athletic
sense.
After the ordinary laconic conversation which characterize code
flag-signals, we were as usual greeted by a perfect storm of
questions as to what had kept us so much behind our time, and
learned that all had come to the conclusion that the ship must have
got on shore on leaving Queenstown harbor. The Niagara, it
appeared, had arrived at the rendezvous on Friday night, the 23d,
the Valorous on Sunday, the 25th, and the Gorgon on the afternoon
of Tuesday, the 27th.
The day was beautifully calm, so no time was to be lost before
making the splice in lat. 52° 9´ N., long. 32° 27´ W., and
soundings of 1,500 fathoms. Boats were soon lowered from the
attendant ships; the two vessels made fast by a hawser, and the
Niagara's end of the cable conveyed on board the Agamemnon. About
half-past twelve o'clock the splice was effectually made, but with
a very different frame from the carefully rounded semi-circular
boards which had been used to enclose the junctions on previous
occasions. It consisted merely of two straight boards hauled over
the joint and splice, with the iron rod and leaden plummet attached
to the center. In hoisting it out from the side of the ship,
however, the leaden sinker broke short off and fell overboard.
There being no more convenient weight at hand a 32-lb. shot was
fastened to the splice instead, and the whole apparatus was quickly
dropped into the sea without any formality--and, indeed, almost
without a spectator--for those on board the ship had witnessed so
many beginnings to the telegraphic line that it was evident they
despaired of there ever being an end to it.
The stipulated 210 fathoms of cable having been paid out to allow
the splice to sink well below the surface, the signal to start was
hoisted, the hawser cut loose, and the Niagara and Agamemnon start
for the last time at about 1 P.M. for their opposite destinations.
The announcement comes from the electrician's testing-room that the
continuity is perfect, and with this assurance the engineers go on
more boldly with the work. In point of fact the engineers may be
said to be very much under the control of the electricians during
paying out; for if the latter report anything wrong with the cable,
the engineers are brought to a stand until they are allowed to go
on with their operations by the announcement of the electricians
that the insulation is perfect and the continuity all right. The
testing-room is where the subtle current which flows along the
conductor is generated, and where the mysterious apparatus by which
electricity is weighed and measured--as a marketable commodity--is
fitted up. The system of testing and of transmitting and receiving
signals through the cable from ship to ship during the process of
paying out must now be briefly referred to. It consists of an
exchange of currents sent alternately every ten minutes by each
ship. These not only serve to give an accurate test of the
continuity and insulation of the conducting-wire from end to end,
but also to give certain signals which it is desirable to send for
information purposes. For instance, every ten miles of cable paid
out is signalized from ship to ship, as also the approach to land
or momentary stoppage for splicing, shifting to a fresh coil, etc.
The current in its passage is made to pass through an
electromagnetometer,[34] an instrument invented by Mr. Whitehouse.
It is also conveyed in its passage at each end of the cable through
the reflecting-galvanometer and speaking-instrument just invented
by Professor Thomson; and it is this latter which is so invaluable,
not only for the interchange of signals, but also for testing
purposes. The deflections read on the galvanometer, as also the
degree of charge and discharge indicated by the magnetometer, are
carefully recorded. Thus, if a defect of continuity or insulation
occurs it is brought to light by comparison with those received
before.
For the first three hours the ships proceeded very slowly, paying
out a great quantity of slack, but after the expiration of this
time the speed of the Agamemnon was increased to about five knots,
the cable going at about six, without indicating more than a few
hundred pounds of strain upon the dynamometer.
Shortly after four o'clock a very large whale was seen approaching
the starboard bow at a great speed (Fig. 28), rolling and tossing
the sea into foam all round; and for the first time we felt a
possibility for the supposition that our second mysterious breakage
of the cable might have been caused, after all, by one of these
animals getting foul of it under water. It appeared as if it were
making direct for the cable; and great was the relief of all when
the ponderous living mass was seen slowly to pass astern, just
grazing the cable where it entered the water--but fortunately
without doing any mischief. All seemed to go well up to about eight
o'clock; the cable paid out from the hold with an evenness and
regularity which showed how carefully and perfectly it had been
coiled away. The paying-out machine also worked so smoothly that it
left nothing to be desired. The brakes are properly called
self-releasing; and although they can, by means of additional
weights, be made to increase the pressure or strain upon the cable,
yet, until these weights are still further increased (at the
engineer's instructions), it is impossible to augment the strain in
any other way. To guard against accidents which might arise in
consequence of the cable having suffered injury during the storm,
the indicated strain upon the dynamometer was never allowed to go
beyond 1,700 lbs. or less than one-quarter what the cable is
estimated to bear. Thus far everything looked promising.
But in such a hazardous work no one knows what a few minutes may
bring forth, for soon after eight o'clock an injured portion of the
cable[35] was discovered about a mile or two from the portion
paying out. Not a moment was lost by Mr. Canning, the engineer on
duty, in setting men to work to cobble up the injury as well as
time would permit, for the cable was going out at such a rate that
the damaged portion would be paid overboard in less than twenty
minutes, and former experience had shown us that to check either
the speed of the ship or the cable would, in all probability, be
attended by the most fatal results. Just before the lapping was
finished, Professor Thomson reported that the electrical continuity
of the wire had ceased, but that the insulation was still perfect.
Attention was naturally directed to the injured piece as the
probable source of the stoppage, and not a moment was lost in
cutting the cable at that point with the intention of making a
perfect splice.
To the consternation of all, the electrical tests applied showed
the fault to be overboard, and in all probability some fifty miles
from the ship.
[Illustration: FIG. 28.--In Collision with a Whale while
Cable-Laying.]
Not a second was to be lost, for it was evident that the cut
portion must be paid overboard in a few minutes; and in the
meantime the tedious and difficult operation of making a splice
had to be performed. The ship was immediately stopped, and no more
cable paid out than was absolutely necessary to prevent it
breaking. As the stern of the ship was lifted by the waves a scene
of the most intense excitement followed. It seemed impossible, even
by using the greatest possible speed and paying out the least
possible amount of cable, that the junction could be finished
before the part was taken out of the hands of the workmen. The main
hold presented an extraordinary scene. Nearly all the officers of
the ship and of those connected with the expedition stood in groups
about the coil, watching with intense anxiety the cable as it
slowly unwound itself nearer and nearer the joint, while the
workmen worked at the splice as only men could work who felt that
the life and death of the expedition depended upon their rapidity.
But all their speed was to no purpose, as the cable was unwinding
within a hundred fathoms; and, as a last and desperate resource,
the cable was stopped altogether, and for a few minutes the ship
hung on by the end. Fortunately, however, it was only for a few
minutes, as the strain was continually rising above two tons and it
would not hold on much longer. When the splice was finished the
signal was made to loose the stoppers, and it passed overboard in
safety.
When the excitement, consequent upon having so narrowly saved the
cable, had passed away, we awoke to the consciousness that the case
was yet as hopeless as ever, for the electrical continuity was
still entirely wanting.
Preparations were consequently made to pay out as little rope as
possible, and to hold on for six hours in the hope that the fault,
whatever it was, might mend itself, before cutting the cable and
returning to the rendezvous to make another splice. The magnetic
needles on the receiving-instruments were watched closely for the
returning signals, when, in a few minutes, the last hope was
extinguished by their suddenly indicating dead earth, which tended
to show that the cable had broken from the Niagara, or that the
insulation had been completely destroyed.
Nothing, however, could be done. The only course was to wait until
the current should return or take its final departure. And it _did_
return--with greater strength than ever--for in three minutes every
one was agreeably surprised by the intelligence that the stoppage
had disappeared and that the signals had again appeared at their
regular intervals from the Niagara[36] It is needless to say what a
load of anxiety this news removed from the minds of every one, but
the general confidence in the ultimate success of the operations
was much shaken by the occurrence, for all felt that every minute a
similar accident might occur.
For some time the paying out continued as usual, but toward the
morning another damaged place was discovered in the cable. There
was fortunately time, however, to repair it in the hold without in
any way interfering with the operations, beyond for a time reducing
slightly the speed of the ship. During the morning of Friday, the
30th, everything went well. The ship had been kept at the speed of
about five knots, the cable going out at six, the average angle
with the horizon at which it left the ship being about 15°, while
the indicated strain upon the dynamometer seldom showed more than
1,600 lbs. to 1,700 lbs.
Observations made at noon showed that we had made good ninety miles
from the starting-point since the previous day, with an
expenditure--including the loss in lowering the splice, and during
the subsequent stoppages--of 135 miles of cable. During the latter
portion of the day the barometer fell considerably, and toward the
evening it blew almost a gale of wind from the eastward, dead ahead
of our course. As the breeze freshened the speed of the engines was
gradually increased, but the wind more than increased in
proportion, so that before the sun went down the Agamemnon was
going full steam against the wind, only making a speed of about
four knots.
During the evening, topmasts were lowered, and spars, yards, sails,
and indeed everything aloft that could offer resistance to the
wind, were sent down on deck. Still the ship made but little way,
chiefly in consequence of the heavy sea, though the enormous
quantity of fuel consumed showed us that if the wind lasted, we
should be reduced to burning the masts, spars, and even the decks,
to bring the ship into Valentia. It seemed to be our particular
ill-fortune to meet with head-winds whichever way the ship's head
was turned. On our journey out we had been delayed and obliged to
consume an undue proportion of coal for want of an easterly wind,
and now all our fuel was wanted _because_ of one. However, during
the next day the wind gradually went round to the southwest, which,
though it raised a very heavy sea, allowed us to husband our small
remaining store of fuel.
At noon on Saturday, July 31st, observations showed us to be in
lat. 52° 23´ N., and long. 26° 44´ W., having made good 120 miles
of distance since noon of the previous day, with a loss of about 27
per cent of cable. The Niagara, as far as could be judged from the
amount of cable she paid out--which by a previous arrangement was
signaled at every ten miles--kept pace with us, within one or two
miles, the whole distance across.
During the afternoon of Saturday, the wind again freshened up, and
before nightfall it blew nearly a gale of wind, and a tremendous
sea ran before it from the southwest, which made the Agamemnon
pitch and toss to such an extent that it was thought impossible the
cable could hold through the night. Indeed, had it not been for the
constant care and watchfulness exercised by Mr. Bright and the two
energetic engineers, Mr. Canning and Mr. Clifford, who acted with
him, it could not have been done at all. Men were kept at the
wheels of the machine to prevent their stopping (as the stern of
the ship rose and fell with the sea), for had they done so, the
cable must undoubtedly have parted. During Sunday the sea and wind
increased, and before the evening it blew a smart gale.
Now, indeed, were the energy and activity of all engaged in the
operation tasked to the utmost. Mr. Hoar and Mr. Moore--the two
engineers who had the charge of the relieving-wheels of the
dynamometer--had to keep watch and watch alternately every four
hours, and while on duty durst not let their attention be removed
from their occupation for one moment; for on their releasing the
brakes every time the stern of the ship fell into the trough of the
sea entirely depended the safety of the cable, and the result shows
how ably they discharged their duty.
Throughout the night there were few who had the least expectation
of the cable holding on till morning, and many lay awake listening
for the sound that all most dreaded to hear, viz., the gun which
should announce the failure of all our hopes. But still the
cable--which in comparison with the ship from which it was paid
out, and the gigantic waves among which it was delivered, was but a
mere thread--continued to hold on, only leaving a silvery
phosphorescent line upon the stupendous seas as they rolled on
toward the ship.
With Sunday morning came no improvement in the weather, still the
sky remained black and stormy to windward, and the constant violent
squalls of wind and rain which prevailed during the whole day
served to keep up, if not to augment, the height of the waves.
But the cable had gone through so much during the night that our
confidence in its continuing to hold was much restored. At noon
observation showed us to be in lat. 52° 26´ N., and long. 23° 16´
W., having made good 130 miles from noon of the previous day, and
about 350 from our starting-point in mid-ocean. We had passed by
the deepest soundings of 2,400 fathoms, and over more than half of
the deep water generally, while the amount of cable still remaining
in the ship was more than sufficient to carry us to the Irish
coast, even supposing the continuance of the bad weather, should
oblige us to pay out nearly the same amount of slack cable as
hitherto.
Thus far things looked promising for our ultimate success. But
former experience showed us only too plainly that we could never
suppose that some accident might not arise until the ends had been
fairly landed on the opposite shores.
During Sunday night and Monday morning the weather continued as
boisterous as ever. It was only by the most indefatigable exertions
of the engineer upon duty that the wheels could be prevented from
stopping altogether as the vessel rose and fell with the sea; and
once or twice they did come completely to a standstill in spite of
all that could be done to keep them moving. Fortunately, however,
they were again set in motion before the stern of the ship was
thrown up by the succeeding wave. No strain could be placed upon
the cable, of course, and though the dynamometer occasionally
registered 1,700 lbs., as the ship lifted, it was oftener below
1,000 lbs., and was frequently nothing, the cable running out as
fast as its own weight and the speed of the ship could draw it. But
even with all these forces acting unresistingly upon it, the cable
never paid itself out at a greater speed than eight knots at the
time the ship was going at the rate of six knots and a half.
Subsequently, however, when the speed of the ship even exceeded six
knots and a half, the cable never ran out so quickly. The average
speed maintained by the ship up to this time, and, indeed, for the
whole voyage, was about five knots and a half, the cable, with
occasional exceptions, running some 30 per cent faster.
At noon on Monday, August 2d, observations showed us to be in lat.
52° 35´ N., long. 19° 48´ W. Thus we had made good 127-1/2 miles
since noon of the previous day and had completed more than half-way
to our ultimate destination.
During the afternoon, an American three-masted schooner, which
afterward proved to be the Chieftain, was seen standing from the
eastward toward us. No notice was taken of her at first, but when
she was within about half a mile of the Agamemnon, she altered her
course and bore right down across our bows. A collision which might
prove fatal to the cable now seemed inevitable; or could only be
avoided by the equally hazardous expedient of altering the
Agamemnon's course. The Valorous steamed ahead and fired a gun for
her to heave to, which as she did not appear to take much notice
of, was quickly followed by another from the bows of the Agamemnon,
and a second and third from the Valorous. But still the vessel held
on her course; and, as the only resource left to avoid a collision,
the course of the Agamemnon was altered just in time to pass within
a few yards of her. It was evident that our proceedings were a
source of the greatest possible astonishment to them, for all her
crew crowded upon her deck and rigging. At length they evidently
discovered who we were and what we were doing, for the crew manned
the rigging, and, dipping the ensign several times, they gave us
three hearty cheers. Though the Agamemnon was obliged to
acknowledge these congratulations in due form, the feeling of
annoyance with which we regarded the vessel--which (either by the
stupidity or carelessness of those on board) was so near adding a
fatal and unexpected mishap to the long chapter of accidents which
had already been encountered--may easily be imagined.
To those below--who, of course, did not see the ship
approaching--the sound of the first gun came like a thunderbolt,
for all took it as a signal of the breaking of the cable. The
dinner-tables were deserted in a moment, and a general rush made up
the hatches to the deck; but before reaching it their fears were
quickly banished by the report of the succeeding gun, which all
knew well could only be caused by a ship in our way or a man
overboard.
Throughout the greater part of Monday morning the electrical
signals from the Niagara had been getting gradually weaker, until
they ceased altogether for nearly three-quarters of an hour. Then
Professor Thomson sent a message to the effect that the signals
were too weak to be read; and, in a little while, the deflections
returned even stronger than they had ever been before. Toward the
evening, however, they again declined in force for a few
minutes.[37]
With the exception of these little stoppages, the electrical
condition of the submerged wire seemed to be much improved. It was
evident that the low temperature of the water at the immense depth
improved considerably the insulating properties of the
gutta-percha, while the enormous pressure to which it must have
been subjected probably tended to consolidate its texture, and to
fill up any air-bubbles or slight faults in manufacture which may
have existed.
The weather during Monday night moderated a little; but still there
was a very heavy sea on, which endangered the wire every second
minute.
About three o'clock on Tuesday morning all on board were startled
from their beds by the loud booming of a gun. Every one--without
waiting for the performance of the most particular toilet--rushed
on deck to ascertain the cause of the disturbance. Contrary to all
expectation, the cable was safe; but just in the gray light could
be seen the Valorous--rounded to in the most warlike
attitude--firing gun after gun in quick succession toward a large
American bark, which, quite unconscious of our proceedings, was
standing right across our stern. Such loud and repeated
remonstrances from a large steam-frigate were not to be despised;
and evidently without knowing the why or the wherefore she quickly
threw her sails aback, and remained hove to. Whether those on board
her considered that we were engaged in some filibustering
expedition, or regarded our proceedings as another outrage upon the
American flag, it is impossible to say; but certain it is
that--apparently in great trepidation--she remained hove to until
we had lost sight of her in the distance.
Tuesday was a much finer day than any we had experienced for nearly
a week, but still there was a considerable sea running, and our
dangers were far from past; yet the hopes of our ultimate success
ran high. We had accomplished nearly the whole of the deep portions
of the route in safety, and that, too, under the most unfavorable
circumstances possible; therefore there was every reason to believe
that--unless some unforeseen accident should occur--we should
accomplish the remainder. Observations at noon placed us in lat. 5°
26´ N., long. 16° 7´ 40´´ W., having run 134 miles since the
previous day.
About five o'clock in the evening the steep submarine mountain
which divides the steep telegraphic plateau from the Irish coast
was reached, and the sudden shallowing of water had a very marked
effect upon the cable, causing the strain and the speed to lessen
every minute. A great deal of slack was paid out,[38] to allow for
any greater inequalities which might exist, though undiscovered by
the sounding-line.
About ten o'clock the shoal water of 250 fathoms was reached. The
only remaining anxiety now was the changing from the lower main
coil to that upon the upper deck; and this most dangerous operation
was successfully performed between three and four o'clock on
Wednesday morning.
Wednesday was a beautiful, calm day; indeed, it was the first on
which any one would have thought of making a splice since the day
we started from the rendezvous. We therefore congratulated
ourselves on having saved a week by commencing operations on the
Thursday previous.
At noon we were in lat. 52° 11´; long. 12° 40´ 2´´ W., eighty-nine
miles distant from the telegraph station at Valentia. The water was
shallow, so that there was no difficulty in paying out the wire
almost without any loss by slack; and all looked upon the
undertaking as virtually accomplished.
At about one o'clock in the evening the second change from the
upper-deck coil to that upon the orlop-deck was safely effected;
and shortly after the vessels exchanged signals that they were in
200 fathoms water.
As night advanced the speed of the ship was reduced, as it was
known that we were only a short distance from the land, and there
would be no advantage in making it before daylight in the morning.
At about twelve o'clock, however, the Skelligs Light was seen in
the distance, and the Valorous steamed on ahead to lead us in to
the coast, firing rockets at intervals to direct us, which were
answered by us from the Agamemnon, though--according to Mr.
Moriarty, the master's, wish--the ship, disregarding the Valorous,
kept her own course, which proved to be the right one in the end.
By daylight on the morning of Thursday, the 5th, the bold rocky
mountains which entirely surround the wild and picturesque
neighborhood of Valentia rose right before us at a few miles
distance. Never, probably, was the sight of land more welcome, as
it brought to a successful termination one of the greatest, but at
the same time most difficult, schemes which was ever undertaken.
Had it been the dullest and most melancholy swamp on the face of
the earth that lay before us, we should have found it a pleasant
prospect; but as the sun rose behind the estuary of Dingle Bay,
tingeing with a deep, soft purple the lofty summits of the steep
mountains which surround its shores, illuminating the masses of
morning vapor which hung upon them, it was a scene which might vie
in beauty with anything that could be produced by the most florid
imagination of an artist.
_Successful Termination._--No one on shore was apparently conscious
of our approach, so the Valorous went ahead to the mouth of the
harbor and fired a gun. Both ships made straight for Doulas Bay,
the Agamemnon steaming into the harbor (see Frontispiece) with a
feeling that she had done something, and about 6 A.M. came to
anchor at the side of Beginish Island, opposite to Valentia.
As soon as the inhabitants became aware of our approach, there was
a general desertion of the place, and hundreds of boats crowded
round us--their passengers in the greatest state of excitement to
hear all about our voyage. The Knight of Kerry was absent in
Dingle, but a messenger was immediately despatched for him, and he
soon arrived in her Majesty's gunboat Shamrock.
[Illustration: FIG. 29.--Landing the American End.]
Soon after our arrival a signal was received from the Niagara
that they were preparing to land, having paid out 1,030 nautical
miles of cable, while the Agamemnon had accomplished her portion of
the distance with an expenditure of 1,020 miles, making the total
length of the wire submerged 2,050 geographical miles.
Immediately after the ships cast anchor, the paddle-box boats of
the Valorous were got ready, and two miles of cable coiled away in
them, for the purpose of landing the end. But it was late in the
afternoon before the procession of boats left the ship, under a
salute of three rounds of small arms from the detachment of marines
on board the Agamemnon, under the command of Lieutenant Morris.
The progress of the end to the shore was very slow, in consequence
of the stiff wind which blew at the time; but at about 3 P.M. the
end was safely brought on shore at Knight's Town, Valentia, by Mr.
Bright, to whose exertions the success of the undertaking is
attributable. Mr. Bright was accompanied by Mr. Canning and the
Knight of Kerry. The end was immediately laid in the trench which
had been dug to receive it; while a royal salute, making the
neighboring rocks and mountains reverberate, announced that the
communication between the Old and New World had been completed.
The cable was taken into the electrical room by Mr. Whitehouse, and
attached to a galvanometer, and the first message was received
through the entire length now lying on the bed of the sea.
Too much praise can not be bestowed upon both the officers and men
of the Agamemnon for the hearty way in which they have assisted in
the arduous and difficult service they have been engaged in; and
the admirable manner in which the ship was navigated by Mr.
Moriarty materially reduced the difficulty of the company's
operations.
It will, in all probability, be nearly a fortnight before the
instruments are connected at the two termini for the transmission
of regular messages.
[Illustration: FIG. 30.--Newfoundland Telegraph Station, 1858.]
It is unnecessary here to expatiate upon the magnitude of the
undertaking which has just been completed, or upon the great
political and social results which are likely to accrue from it;
but there can be but one feeling of universal admiration for the
courage and perseverance which have been displayed by Mr. Bright,
and those who acted under his orders, in encountering the manifold
difficulties which arose on their path at every step.[39]
_The American End._--In contradistinction to the heavy seas and
difficulties the Agamemnon had to contend with, her consort, the
Niagara, experienced very quiet weather, and her part of the work was
comparatively uneventful, with the exception of a fault near the bottom
of the ward-room coil. This was detected during the operations on the
night of August 2d, but was removed before it was paid out into the sea.
About four o'clock the next morning the continuity and insulation was
accordingly restored, and, says Mr. Mullaly (the New York Herald
correspondent on board), "all was going on as if nothing had occurred to
disturb the confidence we felt in the success of the expedition."
When nearing the end, various icebergs were met with--some a hundred
feet high. Mullaly dilates on their castle-like form and the effective
appearance of the sun's rays thereon. Shortly after entering Trinity
Bay, Newfoundland, the Niagara was met by H.M.S. Porcupine, which had
been sent out from England at the very beginning of the 1858 expedition
to await her arrival and render any assistance which might be required.
The Niagara anchored about 1 A.M. on August 5th, having completed her
work, and, during the forenoon of that day, the cable was landed in a
little bay, Bull Arm,[40] at the head of Trinity Bay, when they
"received very strong currents of electricity through the whole cable
from the other side of the Atlantic."[41]
The telegraph-house at the Newfoundland end was some two miles from the
beach, and connected to the cable by a land-line.