That much-abused and oft-neglected meal called tea had always been a
scene of great festivity and good-fellowship in the Wright family.
Circumstances, uncontrollable of course, had from the beginning
necessitated a dinner at one o'clock, so that they assembled round the
family board at six each evening, in a hungry and happy frame of body
and mind, (which late diners would envy if they understood it), with the
prospect of an evening--not bed--before them.
In the earlier years of the family, the meal had been, so to speak, a
riotous one, for both Robin and Madge had uncontrollable spirits, with
tendencies to drop spoons on the floor, and overturn jugs of milk on the
table. Later on, the meal became a jolly one, and, still later, a
chatty one--especially after uncle Rik and cousin Sam began to be
frequent guests.
But never in all the experience of the family had the favourite meal
been so jolly, so prolific of spoony and porcelain accidents, so chatty,
and so generally riotous, as it was on a certain evening in June of the
year 1870, shortly after the return home of Robin and his companions.
Besides the original Wright family, consisting of father, mother, Robin,
and Madge, there were assembled uncle Rik, Sam Shipton, Mrs Langley,
Letta, and--no--not Jim Slagg. The circle was unavoidably incomplete,
for Jim had a mother, and Jim had said with indignant emphasis, "did
they suppose all the teas an' dinners an' suppers, to say nothin' o'
breakfasts, an' mess-mates an' chums an' friends, crammed and jammed
into one enormous mass temptation, would indooce him to delay his return
to that old lady for the smallest fraction of an hour?" No, Jim Slagg
was not at the table, but the household cat was under it, and the
demoralising attentions that creature received on that occasion went far
to undo the careful training of previous years.
The occasion of the gathering was not simple. It was compound. First,
it was in commemoration of Robin's birthday; second, it was to celebrate
the appointment of Sam Shipton to an influential position on the
electrical staff of the Telegraph Construction and Maintenance Company,
and Sam's engagement to Marjory Mayland; third, to celebrate the
appointment of Robin Wright to a sufficiently lucrative and hopeful post
under Sam; and, lastly, to enjoy the passing hour.
"Ladies and gentlemen," said uncle Rik, getting on his feet with some
difficulty, when the tea, toast, muffins, eggs, and other fare had
blunted the appetites, "I rise to propose the toast of the evening, and
mark you, I don't mean to use any butter with this toast," (_Hear_, from
Sam), "unless I'm egged on," (_Oh_!), "to do it--so I charge you to
charge your cups with tea, since we're not allowed grog in this
tee-total ship--though I'm free to confess that I go in with you there,
for I've long since given, up the use o' that pernicious though pleasant
beverage, takin' it always neat, now, in the form of cold water, varied
occasionally with hot tea and coffee. My toast, ladies and gentlemen,
is Rob--" (Rik put his hand to his throat to ease off his necktie), "is
Robin Wright, whom I've known, off an' on, as a babby, boy, an' man,
almost ever since that night--now twenty years ago, more or less--when
he was launched upon the sea in thunder, lightning, and in rain. I've
known him, I say--ever since--off an' on--and I'm bound to say that--"
The captain paused. He had meant to be funny, but the occasion proved
too much for him.
"Bless you, Robin, my lad," he gasped, suddenly stretching his large
hand across the table and grasping that of his nephew, which was quickly
extended. After shaking it with intense vigour he sat promptly down and
blew his nose.
The thunders of applause which burst from Sam and Mr Wright were joined
in even by the ladies, who, in the excess of their sympathy, made use of
knife-handles and spoons with such manly vigour that several pieces of
crockery went "by the board," as the captain himself remarked, and the
household cat became positively electrified and negatively mad,--
inasmuch as it was repelled by the horrors around, and denied itself the
remaining pleasure of the tea-table by flying wildly from the room.
Of course, Robin attempted a reply, but was equally unsuccessful in
expressing his real sentiments, or the true state of his feelings, but
uncle Rik came to the rescue by turning sharply on Sam and demanding--
"Do you really mean to tell me, sir, that, after all your experience,
you still believe in telegraphs and steamboats?"
Sam promptly asserted that he really did mean that.
"Of course," returned the captain, "you can't help believing in their
existence--for facts are facts--but are you so soft, so unphilosophical,
so idiotical as to believe in their continuance? That's the point,
lad--their continuance. Are you not aware that, in course o' time, rust
they must--"
"An' then they'll bu'st," interpolated Robin.
"Hee! hee! ha!" giggled Letta, who, during all this time, had been
gazing with sparkling eyes and parted lips, from one speaker to another,
utterly forgetful of, and therefore thoroughly enjoying, her own
existence.
"Yes, then they'll bu'st," repeated Rik, with an approving nod at Robin;
"you're right, my boy, and the sooner they do it the better, for I'm
quite sick of their flashings and crashings."
"I rather suspect, Sam," said Mr Wright, "that the gentlemen with whom
you dined the other day would not agree with uncle Rik."
"Whom do you refer to, George?" asked Mrs Wright.
"Has he not yet told you of the grand `inaugural fete,' as they call it,
that was given at the house of Mr Fender, chairman of the Telegraph
Construction and Maintenance Company, to celebrate the opening of direct
submarine telegraphic communication with India?"
"Not a word," replied Mrs Wright, looking at Sam.
"You never mentioned it to _me_," said Madge, with a reproachful glance
in the same direction.
"Because, Madge, we have been so busy in talking about something else,"
said Sam, "that I really forgot all about it."
"Do tell us about it now," said Mrs Langley, who, like her daughter,
had been listening in silence up to this point.
"A deal o' rubbish was spoken, I daresay," observed the captain,
commencing to another muffin, and demanding more tea.
"A deal of something was spoken, at all events," said Sam, "and what is
more to the point, an amazing deal was done. Come, before speaking
about it, let me propose a toast--Success to Batteries and Boilers!"
"Amen to that!" said Robin, with enthusiasm.
"If they deserve it," said the captain, with caution.
The toast having been drunk with all the honours, Sam began by saying
that the fete was a great occasion, and included brilliant company.
"There were present, of course," he said, "nearly all the great
electrical and engineering lights of the day, also the Prince of Wales
and the Duke of Cambridge, with a lot of aristocrats, whom it is not
necessary to mention in the presence of a democratic sea-dog like uncle
Rik."
"Don't yaw about to defame me, but keep to your course, Sam."
"Well, you have no idea what an amount of interest and enthusiasm the
affair created. You all know, of course, that the Indian cable, which
Robin and I had a hand in laying, is now connected with the lines that
pass between Suez, Alexandria, Malta, Gibraltar, Lisbon, and England;
and the company assembled at Mr Pender's house witnessed the sending of
the first messages direct from London to Bombay; and how long, do you
think, it took to send the first message, and receive a reply?--only
five minutes!"
"You don't mean it, Sam!" exclaimed Rik, getting excited, in spite of
his professed unbelief.
"Indeed I do," replied Sam, warming with his subject. "I tell you the
sober truth, however difficult it may be for you to believe it. You may
see it in the papers of the 24th or 25th, I suppose. Here is my
note-book, in which I jotted down the most interesting points.
"The proceedings of the evening were opened by the managing director in
London sending a telegram to the manager at Bombay.
"`_How are you all_?' was the brief first telegram by Sir James
Anderson. `_All well_,' was the briefer first reply from Bombay. The
question fled from London at 9:18 exactly--I had my watch in my hand at
the time--and the answer came back at 9:23--just five minutes. I can
tell you it was hard to believe that the whole thing was not a practical
joke. In fact, the message and reply were almost instantaneous, the
five minutes being chiefly occupied in manipulating the instruments at
either end. The second message between the same parties occupied the
same time. After that Sir Bartle Frere sent a telegram to Sir Seymour
Fitzgerald, the Governor of Bombay, as follows:--`_Sir Bartle Frere
wishes health and prosperity to all old friends in Bombay_.' This was
received by the Company's superintendent at Bombay, and the
acknowledgment of its receipt sent back in four minutes and fifty
seconds! But the reply from the Governor, `_Your old friend returns
your good wishes_,' did not come to us for thirty-six minutes, because
the message had to be sent to the Governor's house, and it found his
Excellency in bed.
"Next, a message was sent by Lady Mayo in London to Lord Mayo at Simla,
which, with the acknowledgment of it, occupied 15 minutes in
transmission. Of course time was lost in some cases, because the
persons telegraphed to were not on the spot at the moment. The Prince
of Wales telegraphed to the Viceroy of India, `_I congratulate your
Excellency on England and India being now connected by a submarine
cable. I feel assured this grand achievement will prove of immense
benefit to the welfare of the Empire. Its success is thus matter_ _of
imperial interest_,' which telegram passed out, and the acknowledgment
of its receipt in India was returned to London, all within eleven
minutes, but, as in the former case, the Viceroy was in bed, so that his
reply was not received till forty-five minutes had elapsed. Had the
Viceroy been at the Indian end of the wire, he and the Prince could have
conversed at an average rate of five minutes a sentence.
"Many other messages were sent to and fro," continued Sam, turning over
the leaves of his note-book, "not only from London to India, but to each
of the intermediate stations on the cable line, so that we had direct
intercourse that night with the King of Portugal, the Governors of
Gibraltar, Malta, and Aden, and the Khedive of Egypt. But that was not
all. We put the old and the new world into communication, so that the
`press of India sent salaam to the press of America.' Sir James
Anderson also telegraphed to Cyrus W. Field, Esquire, the father of
submarine telegraphy in my estimation," (_Hear, hear_, from Robin), "and
he sent a reply, which began, `_Your message of this evening received by
me before five o'clock this afternoon_.' Mark that, Captain Rik, the
message received _before_ it was sent, so to speak!"
"Ay, ay, lad--I know--difference of longitude,--fire away."
"Well, I have fired away most of my ammunition now," returned Sam, "and
if you don't haul down your colours, it must be because you have nailed
them to the mast and are blind to reason. I may add, however, that the
Viceroy of India sent a telegram to the President of the United States,
to which he got a reply in seven hours and forty minutes, but the
slowness of this message was accounted for by the fact of accidental and
partly unavoidable delay in transmission both in Washington and London.
At 1:30 a.m. of the 24th the traffic of the line became pressing, and
all complimentary messages ceased with one from Bombay, which said, `Sun
just risen; delightfully cool; raining.'"
"Doesn't it seem as if the Baron Monkhausen's tales were possible after
all?" remarked Mrs Wright, looking as if her mind had got slightly
confused.
"The Baron's tales are mere child's-play, mother," said Robin, "to the
grand facts of electricity."
"That's so, Robin," said Sam, still turning over the leaves of his
note-book, "and we had some magnificent experiments or illustrations at
the fete, which go far to prove the truth of your remark--experiments
which were so beautiful that they would have made the eyes of Letta
sparkle even more gorgeously than they are doing at present, if she had
seen them."
Letta blushed, returned to self-consciousness for a moment, looked down,
laughed, looked up as Sam proceeded, and soon again forgot herself in a
fixed and earnest gaze.
"The two telegraph instruments communicating with India and America,
which stood on two tables, side by side, in Mr Pender's house, were
supplied by two batteries in the basement of the building. Eighty cells
of Daniel's battery were used upon the Penzance circuit for India, and
100 cells on the Brest circuit for America. The ordinary water-pipes of
the house served to connect the batteries with the earth, so as to
enable them to pump their electricity from that inexhaustible
reservoir."
"I was not aware that electricity had to be pumped up through pipes like
water," interrupted Mrs Wright, on whose mild countenance a
complication of puzzled expressions was gradually gathering.
"It is not so pumped up," said Sam. "The pipes were used, not because
they were pipes, but because they were metal, and therefore good
conductors."
"But you haven't told us about the beautiful experiments yet," murmured
Letta, a little impatiently.
"I'm coming to them, little one," said Sam. "One battery exhibited the
power as well as the beauty of that mysterious force which we call
electricity. It was the large Grove battery. A current passed from it
to copper wires, in a certain manner, produced a dazzling green light,
and the copper melted like wax. With silver a still brighter and purer
green flame was the result. With platinum an intense white light was
given off, and the molten metal fell in globules of exceeding
brilliancy. With iron lovely coruscations were exhibited, the boiling
vapour flying and burning in all directions; and a platinum wire three
feet long was in an instant melted into thousands of minute globules.
All this showed the power of electricity to produce intense heat when
resistance is opposed to its passage."
"It is remarkably human-like in that respect," said Captain Rik, in an
under-tone.
"Then its power to produce magnetism," continued Sam, "was shown by Lord
Lindsay's huge electro-magnet. This magnet, you must know, is nothing
but a bit of ordinary metal until it is electrified, when it becomes a
most powerful magnet. But the instant the current is cut off from it,
it ceases to be a magnet. If you understood much about electricity,"
said Sam, looking round on his rapt audience, "I might tell you that it
is upon this power of making a piece of iron a magnet or not at
pleasure, that depend the Morse and Digne telegraph instruments; but as
you don't understand, I won't perplex you further. Well, when a piece
of sheet copper was passed between the poles of Lord Lindsay's giant
magnet, it was as difficult to move as if it had been sticking in
cheese--though it was in reality touching nothing!--influenced only by
attraction." ("That beats your power over Sam, Madge," whispered Robin.
"No it doesn't," whispered Madge in reply.) "Then, one most beautiful
experiment I could not hope to get you to understand, but its result
was, that a ten-gallon glass jar, coated inside and out with perforated
squares of tinfoil, was filled with tens of thousands of brilliant
sparks, which produced so much noise as completely to drown the voices
of those who described the experiment. A knowledge of these and other
deep things, and of the laws that govern them, has enabled Sir William
Thomson and Mr Cromwell F. Varley to expedite the transmission of
messages through very long submarine cables in an enormous degree. Then
the aurora borealis was illustrated by a large long exhausted tube--"
"I say, Sam," interrupted Rik, "don't you think there's just a
possibility of our becoming a large long-exhausted company if you don't
bring this interesting lecture to a close?"
"Shame! shame! uncle Rik," cried Robin.
As the rest of the company sided with him, the captain had to give way,
and Sam went on.
"I won't try your patience much longer; in fact I have nearly come to an
end. In this long exhausted tube, ten feet in length and three inches
in diameter, a brilliant and beautiful crimson stream was produced, by
means of an induction coil. In short, the occasion and, the proceedings
altogether, made it the most interesting evening I have ever spent in my
life, e-except--"
Sam paused abruptly, and looked at Madge. Madge blushed and looked down
under the table,--presumably for the cat,--and the rest of the company
burst into an uproarious fit of laughter, in which condition we will
leave them and convey the reader to a very different though not less
interesting scene.