Lightning Man_ The Accursed Life of Samuel F. B. Morse - Kenneth Silverman [120]
Morse also understood that his difficulties in constructing the line had inspired criticism and unfavorable publicity. To counter it he placed a notice in the Journal of Commerce:
In an enterprise so entirely new, it can hardly be expected that every part can be conducted with that precision and perfectness which is gained only by experience. Unforeseen difficulties will be encountered and are to be overcome, and delays will of course be incurred. There are no intrinsic ones as yet of a nature to shake the confidence of the most sanguine in the final triumph of the enterprise.
Morse meant to reassure the public, but his statement was no mere cover-up. Every new technology encounters unforeseen problems and undergoes a process of refinement. Quite as Morse said, his work on the line had been a hands-on education that by exposing defects and raising unfamiliar questions produced practical understanding. The confidence he expressed in “the final triumph of the enterprise” was also no twaddle. He, Vail, and Cornell had an almost impersonal faith in the possibilities of the telegraph that transcended failures, setbacks, and bickering, a zeal beyond ambition and desire to see it succeed.
In mid-March, Morse and his crew set to work again on building the Baltimore-Washington line. His experience during the fall with punctured tubes and burnt insulation had left him skeptical of interring the circuit. In addition, Leonard Gale warned that acid in the soil would corrode the pipes, and Joseph Henry said he believed that contact between the wires inside would cause a short circuit. Morse decided to experiment with the alternate method he had described to Congress six years ago, when first requesting an appropriation—stretching his conductors in the air on poles.
Proceeding this time from Washington toward Baltimore, Ezra Cornell headed a work gang of more than twenty-five men to bore auger holes in the earth and set up the posts. These were mainly rough-hewn chestnut trees, barks left on, cut to a height of 30 feet, planted to a depth of 4 feet, about 200 feet apart. Two wires ran on from post to post, attached to cross arms. The fastening of the wires presented a critical problem in insulation. Morse adopted Cornell’s idea of wrapping them at the point of contact in shellac-saturated cloth. The packet was sandwiched between two plates of glass, kept in place by a wooden cover nailed to the post.
By the last week in March, Cornell’s gang had put up some seven miles of timber—distance enough for trials to determine whether to extend the line all the way to Baltimore. The short-range tests were successful, and early in April construction began in earnest. Cornell toiled from six in the morning to six at night, sometimes in rain and wind, shuttling back and forth between Washington and Baltimore on the railroad cars, in which some of his men also ate and slept. Morse remained mostly in two rooms assigned him in the Capitol building, where a transmitter and receiver had been set up.
Each day, as the line of poles marched eastward, Morse tested the ever longer circuit for several hours. He telegraphed back and forth with Vail or Cornell at the other end in some town or village ever closer to Baltimore—Bladensburg, Beltsville, White Oak Bottom:
[April 27] … day rainy and cold wind N. E. 60 pairs, nitric acid twice used. Mr. Vail at Bladensburg. Much perplexed in the morning to arrange connections, but about 30 minutes past 10 found all right. Corresponded till 12 then disconnected and tried long circuit to the Junction 22 miles, had slight indications for a few moments, when all action ceased … Either the rain affects it, the battery is too weak, or there is defective connection somewhere in the line.
Experiments continued, for instance with using the earth