=Source.=--_The Brighton Herald_, July 29, 1865.
The _Great Eastern_ left Valentia on Sunday afternoon on her voyage
across the Atlantic.
On the Saturday the operation of laying the shore-end of the cable
was successfully performed, though not without considerable risk. Not
only had the cable to be landed, but quite a mile in excess was to
be hauled on the shore from the _Caroline_, a tender of the _Great
Eastern_, to pass up the cliff and across a couple of fields which led
to the Telegraph House, and gave communication through the land lines
to London. But no sooner was the first end of the cable seen near
the shore than a wild “Hooroo” arose from those on land who saw it
coming. With a contagion, characteristic of the people, the enthusiasm
passed rapidly downwards from those on the cliffs to the groups on
the winding path, and thence, like a current of electricity, into the
cable-boats themselves, the crews of which joined in the shouting, and
seeing the end so near the land, and concluding their work well done,
at once proceeded to heave the massive rope into the sea. From boat to
boat the first bad example was followed by all until, to the dismay of
the cablemen, who could not gain a hearing amid the continued cheers,
every fathom up to the stern of the _Caroline_ was thrown overboard.
The result of this touching enthusiasm was that every foot had to be
underrun preparatory to the whole operation beginning _de novo_. It
took some time to effect this, during which, it is but fair to say,
the Irish were silent and dispirited enough, and in reply to the
admonitions of the Knight of Kerry, promised to refrain from cheering
till at least all was done--a promise which they kept faithfully. When
the cable had been underrun, hauled into the boats again, and the
shore end really began to come on land and was stowed away in gigantic
circles at the foot of the cliff, the scene was one of real animation.
Numbers of men were in the water up to their waists or shoulders,
easing the cable over the rocks, while along the steep path up the
cliffs was a close row of figures, men and boys, of every rank, from
the well-to-do farmer down to the poorest cottier, all pulling at the
cable with a will, and as if in atonement for their first fault of
enthusiasm, obeying with silent and almost childlike docility every
signal made by Mr. Glass or Mr. Canning as to when they were to haul or
to slack away. Above them and dangerously near the edges of the heights
was a fringe of eager lookers-on, while the slopes beyond were dotted
with bright groups of the county gentry who had ridden or driven in
to see the “landing.” By 12 o’clock the cable was well up the groove,
which had been cut in the face of the cliff for its reception, and from
this point the work of carrying the massive coils across the meadows
to the Receiving House beyond was soon accomplished, and at a little
before one o’clock, the end taken over roads, hedges, and ditches was
safely housed in the _sanctum sanctorum_--the testing-room. Here
the batteries were at once applied and showed both conductivity and
insulation to the last fathom in the hold of the _Caroline_ absolutely
perfect.
On Sunday the delicate task of splicing the end of the deep sea cable
on board the _Great Eastern_ to the shore end, laid the day before by
the _Caroline_, was performed on board the latter vessel. The joint
was then immersed in cold water for testing, and the signals proving
perfect, the last protection of hemp and outside wire was added and the
joint sunk again into the sea that its perfectness as to conductivity
and insulation might be ascertained from the extreme end of the whole
length of the cable on board the _Great Eastern_. It was past four
o’clock when the last of these tests was concluded. By that time the
_Great Eastern_, which had always kept moving her paddles at intervals,
had forged ahead of the _Caroline_ some two or three miles, paying out
the cable slowly as she went on, and leaving the latter vessel the
only float by which one portion of the wire was kept above water. The
instant, however, the flags went down, the last fastenings which held
it to the _Caroline_ were cast adrift, and with a great splash the
final joint of the Atlantic Telegraph and the first thirty miles or
so of its length went slowly down into the blue water and were out of
sight.
The _Great Eastern_ fired two guns from her bows at 5.30 to mark the
commencement of her journey, and Sir Robert Peel, mounting to the
little quarter-deck of the _Hawk_, marked time, while three small
but earnest cheers were given by the select company on board to the
success of the great enterprise. In return came back a swelling hearty
roar from all on the cable ship, as with the last salute of waving
hats and caps and handkerchiefs, the tender dropped astern leaving
the _Great Eastern_ dipping slowly but steadily ahead at the rate of
about six knots an hour. As long as signs could be made, or hats waved,
the vessel was anxiously watched; but she soon hid herself in her own
smoke, and when the _Hawk_ neared the Irish coast a mere brown cloud in
the horizon was all that showed where the greatest ship in the world
was steaming away to endeavour to accomplish the realisation of an idea
even more important than that which she herself embodies. May she be
successful! Several telegrams of a satisfactory character have been
received. We give the latest.
“_Thursday morning._
The _Great Eastern_ telegraphs that 300 miles were paid out at
5.30 a.m. to-day, and that 300 miles were run at 9.50 a.m.
All is going well.
The signals are perfect.”