The laying of this thick shore-end of the cable was an important point
in the great work.
By that time Robin and cousin Sam had been regularly installed as
members of the expedition, and were told off with many others to assist
at the operation.
The Chiltern carried the great coil in her tanks. After rounding Colaba
Point into Back Bay, she found a barge waiting to receive some
two-and-a-half miles of the cable, with which she was to proceed to the
shore. The barge resembled a huge Noah's Ark, having a canvas awning to
protect the cable, which was very sensitive to heat.
A measure of anxiety is natural at the beginning of most enterprises,
and there were some who dreaded a "hitch" with superstitious fear, as if
it would be a bad omen. But all went well.
"Now then, boys--shove her along; push her through," said an experienced
leader among the cable-hands, who grasped the great coil and guided it.
The men took up the words at once, and, to this species of spoken
chorus, "shove her along, push her through," the snaky coil was sent
rattling over the pulley-wheels by the tank and along the wooden gutter
prepared for it, to the paying-out wheel at the Chiltern's stern, whence
it plunged down into the barge, where other experienced hands coiled it
carefully round and round the entire deck.
It is difficult to describe the almost tender solicitude with which all
this was done. The cable was passed carefully--so carefully--through
all the huge staples that were to direct its course from the fore-tank
to the wheel at the stern. Then it was made to pass over a wheel here
and under a wheel there, to restrain its impetuosity, besides being
passed three times round a drum, which controlled the paying-out. A man
stood ready at a wheel, which, by a few rapid turns, could bring the
whole affair to a standstill should anything go wrong. In the fore-tank
eight men guided each coil to prevent entanglement, and on deck men were
stationed a few feet apart all along to the stern, to watch every foot
as it passed out. Three hours completed the transfer. Then the barge
went slowly shoreward, dropping the cable into the sea as she went.
It was quite a solemn procession! First went a Government steam-tug,
flaunting flags from deck to trucks as thick as they could hang. Then
came the barge with her precious cargo. Then two boats full of
cable-hands, and an official gig pulled by a Chinaman, while the
steam-launch Electric kept buzzing about as if superintending all.
When the tug had drawn the barge shoreward as far as she could with
safety, the smaller "Electric" took her place. When she also had
advanced as far as her draught allowed, a boat carried to the shore a
hawser, one end of which was attached to the cable. Then the
cable-hands dropped over the sides of the barge up to waist, chest, or
neck, (according to size), and, ranging themselves on either side of the
rope and cable, dragged the latter to the shore, up the trench made for
its reception, and laid its end on the great stone table, where it was
made fast, tested by the electricians, as we have said, and pronounced
perfect.
A few more days had to pass before the insatiable Great Eastern was
filled with coal and reported ready for sea. Then, as a matter of
course, she wound up with a grand feast--a luncheon--on board, at which
many of the leading authorities and merchants of Bombay were present,
with a brilliant company which entirely filled the spacious saloons.
"Owing to circumstances," said Sam to Robin that day, "over which we
have no control, you and I cannot be included among the guests at this
approaching feast."
"I'm sorry for that, Sam," said our hero.
"Why so, Robin? Does a morbid devotion to chicken and ham, or sweets,
influence you?"
"Not at all, though I make no pretence of indifference to such things,
but I should so much like to hear the speeches."
"Well, my boy, your desire shall be gratified. Through the influence of
our, I might almost say miraculous, friend, Frank Hedley, we shall be
permitted to witness the proceedings from a retired corner of the
saloon, in company with crockery and waiters and other _debris_ of the
feast."
At the appointed time the company assembled, and enjoyed as good a
luncheon as money could procure.
"How some people do eat!" murmured Robin from his corner to Sam, who sat
beside him.
"Yes, for it is their nature to," replied Sam.
After the first toast was drunk the company braced themselves to the
mental work of the afternoon, and although, as a matter of course, a
good deal of twaddle was spoken, there was also much that threw light on
the subject of ocean telegraphy. One of the leading merchants said, in
his opening remarks: "Few of those present, I daresay, are really
familiar with the history of ocean telegraphy."
"Ah!" whispered Robin to Sam, "that's the man for me. He's sure to tell
us a good deal that we don't know, and although I have been ransacking
Bombay ever since I arrived, for information, I don't yet feel that I
know much."
"Hold your tongue, Robin, and listen," said Sam.
"Mind your foot, sir," remonstrated one of the steward's assistants, who
had a lugubrious countenance.
Robin took his foot out of a soup tureen, and applied himself to listen.
"When I reflect," continued the merchant, "that it is now fourteen years
since the first ocean telegraph of any importance was laid,--when I
remember that the first cable was laid after an infinity of personal
effort on the part of those who had to raise the capital,--when I
mention that it was really a work of house-to-house visitation, when
sums of 500 pounds to 1000 pounds, and even 10,000 pounds were raised by
private subscription, with a view to laying a telegraph cable between
England and America, when I reflect that the Queen's Government granted
the use of one of its most splendid vessels, the Agamemnon (_Hear! hear!
and applause_), and that the American Government granted the use of an
equally fine vessel, the Niagara--" (_Hear! hear_! and another round of
applause, directed at the American Consul, who was present.)
("Five glasses smashed _that_ round," growled the lugubrious waiter.)
"When I reflect," continued the merchant, "that the expedition set out
in 1857 with the greatest hopefulness, but proved a total failure--that
the earnest men (_Hear! hear_!) connected with it again set to work the
following year, and laid another cable (_Applause_), which, after
passing through it a few messages of great importance to England and
America (_Hear_!) also ceased communication, which so damped the courage
of all concerned, that for seven or eight weary years nothing was
attempted--no, I should not say nothing, for during that period Mr
Cyrus Field," (thunders of long-continued applause, during which the
lugubrious waiter counted the demolition of six glasses and two dessert
plates), "without whose able and persevering advocacy it is a question
whether to this day we should have had ocean telegraphy carried out at
all--during that period, I say, Mr Cyrus Field never gave himself rest
until he had inspired others with some of the enthusiasm that burned so
brightly in himself, which resulted in the renewed effort of 1865, with
its failure and loss of 1213 miles of cable,--when I think of the
indomitable pluck and confidence shown by such men as Thomas Brassey,
Sir Samuel Canning, Sir James Anderson, Sir Daniel Gooch, Sir Richard
Glass, Mr George Elliot. Mr Fender, Captain Sherard Osborn, and
others--men of mind, and men of capital, and men who could see no
difficulties--and I like men who can see no difficulties," (_Hear! hear!
and loud applause_.)
("You'll see more difficulties than ye bargain for, if ye go through
life makin' people smash crockery like that," growled the lugubrious
waiter.)
"When I think of these men, and of the formation of the Telegraph
Construction and Maintenance Company (_Applause_), and the successful
laying of the 1866 cable, and the picking-up and completion of the old
cable," (_Loud cheers_),--("Hm! a decanter gone this time. _Will_ you
take your foot out of the soup tureen, sir," from the lugubrious man,
and an impatient "hush!" from Robin.)
"When I think of all these things, and a great deal more that I cannot
venture to inflict on the indulgent company (_Go on_!) I feel that the
toast which I have the honour to propose deserves a foremost place in
the toasts of the day, and that you will heartily respond to it, namely,
Success to the Telegraph Construction and Maintenance Company, for that
Company has laid scores of cables since its formation, and has now
successfully commenced, and will doubtless triumphantly complete, the
laying of the cable which we have met to celebrate to-day--the fourth
great enterprise, I may remark, which the Company has undertaken--the
cable that is soon to connect India with England."
The merchant sat down amid thunders of applause, during which the
reckoning of breakages was lost, and finally abandoned by the lugubrious
waiter.
At first Robin and Sam listened with great interest and profound
attention, and the former treasured in his memory, or made pencil notes
of, such facts and expectations as the following:--That only nine months
previously had they commenced the construction of the cable which was
now about to be laid; that Captain Halpin in the Great Eastern had laid
the French Atlantic cable; that in a few weeks they hoped to connect
Bombay with Malta, and two months later with England; that, a few months
after that, England would be connected with the Straits of Malacca and
Singapore. "In short," said one gentleman at the close of his speech,
"we hope that in 1871 India will be connected, chiefly, by submarine
telegraph, with China, Australia, Europe, and America, and that your
morning messages will reach home about the same hour at which they are
sent from here, allowing, of course, for the difference in time; and
that afternoon and evening messages from Europe will be in your hands at
an early hour next morning."
At this point the heat and unpleasant fumes around him began to tell
upon Robin, and he suggested that they had better go on deck for a
little fresh air.
"I'll not budge," said Sam, positively. "Why, the best is yet to come."
Saying this, to the surprise of Robin, Sam rose, went forward to the
table, and asked permission to make a few remarks.
"Who is he?--what? eh!" exclaimed the chairman. "Turn him out," cried
one. "Sit down," cried another. "No, no, let him speak," cried a
third. "Don't you know it is Samuel Shipton, the great electrician?"
"Bravo! go on! speak out!" cried several voices, accompanied by loud
applause.
"Gentlemen," began Sam in his softest voice, "I regard this as one of
the greatest occasions of--of--my life," (_Hear! hear_! from a fussy
guest; and _Hush! hush! and then we shall hear here better_, from an
angry one). "I little thought," continued Sam, warming apparently with
his subject--or the heat, "little thought that on this great occasion I
could--could--I could--" (_would or should; go on, man_, from an
impatient guest).
"Oh, Sam, don't stick!" cried Robin, in an agony of anxiety.
"Who's that? Put him out!" chorused several voices indignantly.
"There, sir, you've put your foot in it at last," said the lugubrious
waiter.
Robin thought he referred to the interruption, but the waiter's eyes and
forefinger directed his attention to the soup tureen, which, in his
eagerness, he had sacrificed with a stamp. Finding that no further
notice was taken of the interruption, he listened, while Sam
continued:--
"Yes, gentlemen, I have some difficulty in starting, but, once set
agoing, gentlemen, I can keep on like an alarum clock. What nonsense
have some of you fellows been talking! Some of you have remarked that
you shall be able to exchange messages with England in a few hours.
Allow me to assure you that before long you will accomplish that feat in
a few minutes."
"Pooh! pooh!" ejaculated an irascible old gentleman with a bald head.
"Did you say `pooh!' sir?" demanded Sam, with a terrible frown.
"I did, sir," replied the old gentleman, with a contemptuous smile.
"Then, sir, take that."
Sam hurled a wine decanter at the old gentleman, which, missing its
mark, fell with a loud crash at the feet of Robin, who awoke with a
start to find Sam shaking him by the arm.
"Wake up, Robin," he said; "man, you've lost the best speech of the
evening. Come--come on deck now, you've had quite enough of it."
"Yes, an' done enough o' damage too," growled the lugubrious waiter.
So Robin became gradually aware that Sam's speech was a mere fancy,
while the smashing of the soup tureen was a hard fact.
It may not, however, be out of place to remark here that the prophecy
made by Sam in Robin's dream, did afterwards become a great reality.