LIGHTHOUSE ILLUMINATION, LENSES OR REFLECTORS?
THE water-ways leading to New York are such as to make Manhattan Island
unique in its advantages for commerce. Already the metropolis of the
continent, it is yet to be the commercial centre of the world. Until
1837 these highways of sea, river, and bay were greatly neglected, and
on all except moonlight nights, vessels had great difficulty in
approaching the city. Raritan and Newark bays were so destitute of buoys
and beacons, that pilots charged double rates for navigating ships in
them, rocks littered their channels, and the benighted New Jersey coast
was jeeringly said to be “outside of the United States.” During the
summer of 1837, Captains Kearney, Sloat, and Perry made a study of the
water approaches to New York, the latter concerning himself with the
Jersey side. His report, written at Perth Amboy, December 9, 1837, was
made such good use of in Congress by Senator G. D. Wall, that a bill for
the creation of lighthouses was passed, and Captain Perry was ordered to
Europe for further study.
Embarking on the steamer _Great Western_ on her second round trip, June
27, 1838, Perry crossed the ocean when such a voyage was a novelty. The
passage occupied twelve and a half days, during which a constant study
of the engines and their behavior, and of wages and fuel satisfied him
that steam could be applied to war vessels with safety and economy. This
was in 1838, yet even as late as 1861, there were American naval
officers more afraid of the boilers under their feet, than of the
enemy’s guns; and many old sea-dogs still believed in the general
efficiency of sailing frigates over steamers.
Arriving at Bristol his first business was to visit the lighthouses of
the United Kingdom, after which he returned to London. In the foundries
and shipyards he acquainted himself with engineers and manufacturers. He
found a ferment of ideas. A real revolution in naval science was in
progress. The British government was ambitious to have the largest
steamer force in the world ready for sudden hostilities so as to possess
an over-whelming advantage. So much encouragement was given by the
admiralty, that nearly every mechanic in the kingdom, as it seemed, was
eager to invent, improve or discover new steps to perfection. Especial
attention was given to the problem of the economy of fuel. Vessels
wholly built of iron were beginning to be common. These, as Perry
predicted, were ultimately to have the preference for peaceful purposes,
but their fitness as war vessels was still uncertain. Two were then
building for the Emperor of Russia. The first paddle-wheel steamers,
_Penelope_, _Terrible_, and _Valorous_, were afloat or building. The era
of steam appliances as a substitute for manual labor aboard ships was
being ushered in.
It is now seen that the immediate fruit of this possession, by the
British government, of steam both as a motor and a substitute for manual
labor on shipboard, was the growth of an imperial policy of extensive
colonial dependencies and possessions for which the Victorian era will
ever be conspicuous in history. The British Empire could never have
become the mighty agglomeration which it now is, except through the
agency of steam. The new force was not an olive branch, nor calculated
to keep the battle flags furled; for already, the first of the
twenty-five wars which the Victorian era has thus far seen had begun.
At the time of Perry’s visit, however, Britain’s exclusive domain seemed
threatened by France. The spirit of invention and improvement,
encouraged by Louis Philippe, was abroad in “la belle France.” Already
nine war steamers afloat, with more planned on paper, the beginning of a
respectable sea-force, were within two hours of England. A vigorous
naval policy was in popular favor and the Prince de Joinville, in
command of a corvette, the _Creole_, was beginning to express views
which alarmed the Admiralty. The brilliant successes of the French in
Mexican waters, the capture of the castle of St. Juan d’Ulloa after six
hours bombardment, in which the terrific power of shells had been
demonstrated, encouraged them to believe that their rivalry with England
on the ocean was again possible. The undisputed supremacy of the British
on the seas since Trafalgar, had, except from 1812 to 1815, remained
unbroken because the only large navy left in Europe was British. France,
now recovering from the long impoverishment inflicted upon her by the
wars of Napoleon, was investing her money largely in steam war vessels
of the finest type. Fortunately for her, the revival of her financial
fortunes co-incided with the era of steam, and every franc applied to
naval uses was expended on first-class vessels equal to any on the seas.
On the contrary, many of the British fleet were sailing vessels.
Furthermore, the science of artillery was undergoing a revolution, and
France led the way in ordnance as well as in ships. Such an unexpected
development of energy and wisdom in her rival startled the English naval
mind as it afterward aroused the British public.
The carronades or “smashers” of the sailors, had had their day and their
glory was already passing away. The Paixhans gun, or chambered ordnance
capable of horizontal shell-firing, was now to supersede them. Fully
alive to the needs of the times, the British government had three war
steamers equipped, five were in course of construction, and the keels of
six others were soon to be laid. These were to be of from eight hundred
to twelve hundred tons and to mount heavy shell-guns at each end and in
broadside. Even then, they had but fourteen against the nineteen
steamers of France and hence the feverish desire for more.
Perry’s visit to Europe was exceedingly well-timed to secure the largest
results, for a revolution in optical science and applied methods of
illumination, as well as in ships and guns, was at hand. Science and
invention were to do much for the saving of human life as well as for
its destruction. The balances of Providence were to settle to a new
equilibrium.
Crossing the channel, he visited Cherbourg and Brest, there finding the
same courtesy and cordial reply to his questions. In Paris he came in
contact with a number of distinguished scientific men. He was especially
well assisted by the United States Agent, Mr. Eugene A. Vail. The
illustrious Augustin Fresnel who had said in a letter to a friend,
December 14, 1814, that he did not know what the phrase “the
polarization of light meant,” was in 1819 crowned by the French Academy
of Science as the first authority in optics. He had demonstrated to his
countrymen the error of the old theory of the transmission of light by
the emission of material particles. This he had achieved by the study of
polarization. The practical application of his researches to the
apparatus of lighthouses struck a death-blow to the old system of coast
illumination.
Among other pleasant experiences in the French capital, was a second
visit to King Louis Philippe. Invited by His Majesty to an informal
supper, at which the royal family were present, Captain Perry took his
seat at their table as a guest feeling more honored by this private
confidence than if at a state dinner. At the table sat the King’s wife
and children, tea being poured by the Queen herself. At this time, the
Duc d’Orleans, son of the King, was rejoicing over the recent birth of a
son. His name was Louis Albert Philippe d’Orleans, Comte de Paris. He
afterwards served in the Union armies during our civil war of 1861–65,
and is the accomplished author of the best general history of that
series of events yet published, _Historie de la Guerre Civile en
Amérique_. At this time, November 1838, the infant boy was not quite
three months old, and the talk and thoughts of the royal family were
centered on him.
Leaving Portsmouth December 10, by sailing packet, Perry arrived in New
York, January 14, 1839. After a few days spent at home he went to
Washington to deliver up his rich spoil of contemporaneous science, and
his own elaborate reports, criticisms, and suggestions. His face was
flushed with the irresistible enthusiasm of new ideas. And his thought
was in the direction of the future. The wires of a magnetic telegraph
had been strung across the campus of Princeton college, four years
before this, by Professor Joseph Henry. Out of the discoveries of
Faraday and Henry, brilliant results had sprung, of which application to
the arts of war and peace was already being made. Both as a naval
officer and as a lover of science, Perry rejoiced to see
“Undreamed-of sciences from year to year
Upon dim shores of unexplored Night
Their steady beacons kindle.”
He now bent his energies to bring before Congress the condition and
needs of our lighthouse system. He wrote a vigorous and detailed letter
exposing the abuses and the schemes of the ignorant set of plunderers
who were opposing improvement. He proved that often important
lighthouses were left for days in charge of wholly incompetent persons.
Hence there was waste, robbery, and inefficiency, while a powerful
combination held the system in its coils. “The Lighthouse Ring” was then
as strong as that of “The Indian Ring” of later years. Further, the
battle was one of science and new ideas against ignorance and
ultra-conservative old fogyism. The lenses were struggling against the
reflectors. The latter were the outcome of the emission theory of the
propagation of light. The Lenticular method was based on the undulatory
theory. Ignorance and avarice long held the field, but under the
hammer-like facts and arguments of Perry, and those who thought with
him, both were routed, and the present grand system is the final result.
Our lighthouse establishment is not a creation, it is a growth.
At the Centennial Exposition at Philadelphia in 1876, the exhibit made
by the government of the United States was under the charge of
Rear-Admiral Thornton A. Jenkins, one of Perry’s pupils and friends. The
triumphs of a half century in the illuminating art were manifest.
Progress had at first crept by slow steps, from rude beacons of wood or
coal fires on headlands, to oil lamps with flat wicks and spherical
reflectors, to paraboloid mirrors and argand burners, to eclipse
revolving or flashing lights. The katoptric system of Teulère, based on
the reflection of light by metallic surfaces was introduced about 1790,
and soon came in vogue among most civilized nations. It was costly and
expensive, since half the rays of light were lost by absorption in the
mirror even when new and perfectly polished; while the loss was far more
when the mirror was old, unclean, or in constant use. Yet despite its
many defects, it was the best of its kind known until Fresnel’s
brilliant discoveries based on the principle of a burning-glass or
convex lens refraction. After a struggle, the dioptric conquered the
katoptric, and lenses rule the coast.
It was to introduce the dioptric system that Perry now earnestly
labored. The influence of his arguments in Congress was powerful, and
from this time the lenticular method prevailed, and the system of
lighthouses on all our coasts was extended. From the first lighthouse
built by the general government in 1791 at Cape Henry, the number had
increased to seven in 1800. In 1838 there were but sixteen. The number
now is not far from 250.
No less an authority than Rear-Admiral Thornton A. Jenkins, who, besides
being the Naval Secretary of the Light-House Board from 1869 to 1871,
framed the organic law under which the present efficient Light-House
Board was established in 1852, says that “Through Perry’s influence the
first real step was taken towards the present good system.” The light on
the Neversink Highlands which the voyager to Europe sees, as the last
sign of native land as it sinks below the horizon is one of the first,
as it was the direct, fruits of Perry’s mission.
In an excellent article on this subject in the American Whig Review,
March 1845, the same which contained Poe’s “Raven,” the writer, after
commending Perry’s work and expatiating on the excellence of the Fresnel
light, pleads for the union of science and experience, and more
administrative method for this branch on the efficacy and perfection of
which depend, not only the wealth with which our ships are freighted,
but the lives of thousands who follow the sea.
When, in 1852, Perry lived to see his efforts crowned with success, and
Congress finally organized the Light-House Board, Jenkins wished Perry
to take the presidency of the Board; but other matters were pressing,
Japan was looming up, and he declined.