Edison, His Life and Inventions
F >> Frank Lewis Dyer and Thomas Commerford Martin >> Edison, His Life and Inventions
Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60 | 61
"When we formed the works at Harrison we divided the interests into one
hundred shares or parts at $100 par. One of the boys was hard up after
a time, and sold two shares to Bob Cutting. Up to that time we had never
paid anything; but we got around to the point where the board declared
a dividend every Saturday night. We had never declared a dividend when
Cutting bought his shares, and after getting his dividends for three
weeks in succession, he called up on the telephone and wanted to know
what kind of a concern this was that paid a weekly dividend. The works
sold for $1,085,000."
Incidentally it may be noted, as illustrative of the problems brought
to Edison, that while he had the factory at Harrison an importer in the
Chinese trade went to him and wanted a dynamo to be run by hand power.
The importer explained that in China human labor was cheaper than steam
power. Edison devised a machine to answer the purpose, and put long
spokes on it, fitted it up, and shipped it to China. He has not,
however, heard of it since.
For making the dynamos Edison secured, as noted in the preceding
chapter, the Roach Iron Works on Goerck Street, New York, and this
was also equipped. A building was rented on Washington Street, where
machinery and tools were put in specially designed for making the
underground tube conductors and their various paraphernalia; and the
faithful John Kruesi was given charge of that branch of production. To
Sigmund Bergmann, who had worked previously with Edison on telephone
apparatus and phonographs, and was already making Edison specialties in
a small way in a loft on Wooster Street, New York, was assigned the task
of constructing sockets, fixtures, meters, safety fuses, and numerous
other details.
Thus, broadly, the manufacturing end of the problem of introduction was
cared for. In the early part of 1881 the Edison Electric Light Company
leased the old Bishop mansion at 65 Fifth Avenue, close to Fourteenth
Street, for its headquarters and show-rooms. This was one of the finest
homes in the city of that period, and its acquisition was a premonitory
sign of the surrender of the famous residential avenue to commerce. The
company needed not only offices, but, even more, such an interior as
would display to advantage the new light in everyday use; and this house
with its liberal lines, spacious halls, lofty ceilings, wide parlors,
and graceful, winding stairway was ideal for the purpose. In fact, in
undergoing this violent change, it did not cease to be a home in the
real sense, for to this day many an Edison veteran's pulse is quickened
by some chance reference to "65," where through many years the work of
development by a loyal and devoted band of workers was centred. Here
Edison and a few of his assistants from Menlo Park installed immediately
in the basement a small generating plant, at first with a gas-engine
which was not successful, and then with a Hampson high-speed engine and
boiler, constituting a complete isolated plant. The building was wired
from top to bottom, and equipped with all the appliances of the art. The
experience with the little gas-engine was rather startling. "At an early
period at '65' we decided," says Edison, "to light it up with the Edison
system, and put a gas-engine in the cellar, using city gas. One day it
was not going very well, and I went down to the man in charge and got
exploring around. Finally I opened the pedestal--a storehouse for tools,
etc. We had an open lamp, and when we opened the pedestal, it blew the
doors off, and blew out the windows, and knocked me down, and the other
man."
For the next four or five years "65" was a veritable beehive, day and
night. The routine was very much the same as that at the laboratory, in
its utter neglect of the clock. The evenings were not only devoted to
the continuance of regular business, but the house was thrown open to
the public until late at night, never closing before ten o'clock, so as
to give everybody who wished an opportunity to see that great novelty
of the time--the incandescent light--whose fame had meanwhile been
spreading all over the globe. The first year, 1881, was naturally that
which witnessed the greatest rush of visitors; and the building hardly
ever closed its doors till midnight. During the day business was carried
on under great stress, and Mr. Insull has described how Edison was to
be found there trying to lead the life of a man of affairs in the
conventional garb of polite society, instead of pursuing inventions and
researches in his laboratory. But the disagreeable ordeal could not be
dodged. After the experience Edison could never again be tempted to quit
his laboratory and work for any length of time; but in this instance
there were some advantages attached to the sacrifice, for the crowds of
lion-hunters and people seeking business arrangements would only have
gone out to Menlo Park; while, on the other hand, the great plans for
lighting New York demanded very close personal attention on the spot.
As it was, not only Edison, but all the company's directors, officers,
and employees, were kept busy exhibiting and explaining the light. To
the public of that day, when the highest known form of house illuminant
was gas, the incandescent lamp, with its ability to burn in any
position, its lack of heat so that you could put your hand on the
brilliant glass globe; the absence of any vitiating effect on the
atmosphere, the obvious safety from fire; the curious fact that you
needed no matches to light it, and that it was under absolute control
from a distance--these and many other features came as a distinct
revelation and marvel, while promising so much additional comfort,
convenience, and beauty in the home, that inspection was almost
invariably followed by a request for installation.
The camaraderie that existed at this time was very democratic, for all
were workers in a common cause; all were enthusiastic believers in the
doctrine they proclaimed, and hoped to profit by the opening up of
the new art. Often at night, in the small hours, all would adjourn for
refreshments to a famous resort nearby, to discuss the events of to-day
and to-morrow, full of incident and excitement. The easy relationship of
the time is neatly sketched by Edison in a humorous complaint as to his
inability to keep his own cigars: "When at '65' I used to have in my
desk a box of cigars. I would go to the box four or five times to get a
cigar, but after it got circulated about the building, everybody would
come to get my cigars, so that the box would only last about a day and
a half. I was telling a gentleman one day that I could not keep a
cigar. Even if I locked them up in my desk they would break it open. He
suggested to me that he had a friend over on Eighth Avenue who made a
superior grade of cigars, and who would show them a trick. He said he
would have some of them made up with hair and old paper, and I could put
them in without a word and see the result. I thought no more about the
matter. He came in two or three months after, and said: 'How did that
cigar business work?' I didn't remember anything about it. On coming to
investigate, it appeared that the box of cigars had been delivered and
had been put in my desk, and I had smoked them all! I was too busy on
other things to notice."
It was no uncommon sight to see in the parlors in the evening John
Pierpont Morgan, Norvin Green, Grosvenor P. Lowrey, Henry Villard,
Robert L. Cutting, Edward D. Adams, J. Hood Wright, E. G. Fabbri, R.
M. Galloway, and other men prominent in city life, many of them
stock-holders and directors; all interested in doing this educational
work. Thousands of persons thus came--bankers, brokers, lawyers,
editors, and reporters, prominent business men, electricians, insurance
experts, under whose searching and intelligent inquiries the facts were
elicited, and general admiration was soon won for the system, which in
advance had solved so many new problems. Edison himself was in universal
request and the subject of much adulation, but altogether too busy and
modest to be spoiled by it. Once in a while he felt it his duty to go
over the ground with scientific visitors, many of whom were from abroad,
and discuss questions which were not simply those of technique, but
related to newer phenomena, such as the action of carbon, the nature
and effects of high vacua; the principles of electrical subdivision; the
value of insulation, and many others which, unfortunate to say, remain
as esoteric now as they were then, ever fruitful themes of controversy.
Speaking of those days or nights, Edison says: "Years ago one of the
great violinists was Remenyi. After his performances were over he used
to come down to '65' and talk economics, philosophy, moral science, and
everything else. He was highly educated and had great mental capacity.
He would talk with me, but I never asked him to bring his violin. One
night he came with his violin, about twelve o'clock. I had a library
at the top of the house, and Remenyi came up there. He was in a genial
humor, and played the violin for me for about two hours--$2000 worth.
The front doors were closed, and he walked up and down the room as he
played. After that, every time he came to New York he used to call at
'65' late at night with his violin. If we were not there, he could come
down to the slums at Goerck Street, and would play for an hour or two
and talk philosophy. I would talk for the benefit of his music. Henry E.
Dixey, then at the height of his 'Adonis' popularity, would come in
in those days, after theatre hours, and would entertain us with
stories--1882-84. Another visitor who used to give us a good deal of
amusement and pleasure was Captain Shaw, the head of the London Fire
Brigade. He was good company. He would go out among the fire-laddies
and have a great time. One time Robert Lincoln and Anson Stager, of the
Western Union, interested in the electric light, came on to make some
arrangement with Major Eaton, President of the Edison Electric Light
Company. They came to '65' in the afternoon, and Lincoln commenced
telling stories--like his father. They told stories all the afternoon,
and that night they left for Chicago. When they got to Cleveland, it
dawned upon them that they had not done any business, so they had
to come back on the next train to New York to transact it. They were
interested in the Chicago Edison Company, now one of the largest of the
systems in the world. Speaking of telling stories, I once got telling
a man stories at the Harrison lamp factory, in the yard, as he was
leaving. It was winter, and he was all in furs. I had nothing on to
protect me against the cold. I told him one story after the other--six
of them. Then I got pleurisy, and had to be shipped to Florida for
cure."
The organization of the Edison Electric Light Company went back to 1878;
but up to the time of leasing 65 Fifth Avenue it had not been engaged
in actual business. It had merely enjoyed the delights of anxious
anticipation, and the perilous pleasure of backing Edison's experiments.
Now active exploitation was required. Dr. Norvin Green, the well-known
President of the Western Union Telegraph Company, was president also of
the Edison Company, but the pressing nature of his regular duties
left him no leisure for such close responsible management as was now
required. Early in 1881 Mr. Grosvenor P. Lowrey, after consultation with
Mr. Edison, prevailed upon Major S. B. Eaton, the leading member of
a very prominent law firm in New York, to accept the position of
vice-president and general manager of the company, in which, as also in
some of the subsidiary Edison companies, and as president, he continued
actively and energetically for nearly four years, a critical, formative
period in which the solidity of the foundation laid is attested by the
magnitude and splendor of the superstructure.
The fact that Edison conferred at this point with Mr. Lowrey should,
perhaps, be explained in justice to the distinguished lawyer, who for so
many years was the close friend of the inventor, and the chief counsel
in all the tremendous litigation that followed the effort to enforce and
validate the Edison patents. As in England Mr. Edison was fortunate in
securing the legal assistance of Sir Richard Webster, afterward Lord
Chief Justice of England, so in America it counted greatly in his favor
to enjoy the advocacy of such a man as Lowrey, prominent among the
famous leaders of the New York bar. Born in Massachusetts, Mr. Lowrey,
in his earlier days of straitened circumstances, was accustomed to
defray some portion of his educational expenses by teaching music in the
Berkshire villages, and by a curious coincidence one of his pupils
was F. L. Pope, later Edison's partner for a time. Lowrey went West to
"Bleeding Kansas" with the first Governor, Reeder, and both were active
participants in the exciting scenes of the "Free State" war until driven
away in 1856, like many other free-soilers, by the acts of the "Border
Ruffian" legislature. Returning East, Mr. Lowrey took up practice in New
York, soon becoming eminent in his profession, and upon the accession of
William Orton to the presidency of the Western Union Telegraph Company
in 1866, he was appointed its general counsel, the duties of which post
he discharged for fifteen years. One of the great cases in which he
thus took a leading and distinguished part was that of the quadruplex
telegraph; and later he acted as legal adviser to Henry Villard in his
numerous grandiose enterprises. Lowrey thus came to know Edison, to
conceive an intense admiration for him, and to believe in his ability
at a time when others could not detect the fire of genius smouldering
beneath the modest exterior of a gaunt young operator slowly
"finding himself." It will be seen that Mr Lowrey was in a peculiarly
advantageous position to make his convictions about Edison felt, so
that it was he and his friends who rallied quickly to the new banner
of discovery, and lent to the inventor the aid that came at a critical
period. In this connection it may be well to quote an article that
appeared at the time of Mr. Lowrey's death, in 1893: "One of the most
important services which Mr. Lowrey has ever performed was in furnishing
and procuring the necessary financial backing for Thomas A. Edison in
bringing out and perfecting his system of incandescent lighting. With
characteristic pertinacity, Mr. Lowrey stood by the inventor through
thick and thin, in spite of doubt, discouragement, and ridicule, until
at last success crowned his efforts. In all the litigation which has
resulted from the wide-spread infringements of the Edison patents, Mr.
Lowrey has ever borne the burden and heat of the day, and perhaps in
no other field has he so personally distinguished himself as in the
successful advocacy of the claims of Edison to the invention of the
incandescent lamp and everything 'hereunto pertaining.'"
This was the man of whom Edison had necessarily to make a confidant and
adviser, and who supplied other things besides the legal direction and
financial alliance, by his knowledge of the world and of affairs. There
were many vital things to be done in the exploitation of the system that
Edison simply could not and would not do; but in Lowrey's savoir faire,
ready wit and humor, chivalry of devotion, graceful eloquence, and
admirable equipoise of judgment were all the qualities that the occasion
demanded and that met the exigencies.
We are indebted to Mr. Insull for a graphic sketch of Edison at this
period, and of the conditions under which work was done and progress was
made: "I do not think I had any understanding with Edison when I first
went with him as to my duties. I did whatever he told me, and looked
after all kinds of affairs, from buying his clothes to financing his
business. I used to open the correspondence and answer it all, sometimes
signing Edison's name with my initial, and sometimes signing my own
name. If the latter course was pursued, and I was addressing a stranger,
I would sign as Edison's private secretary. I held his power of
attorney, and signed his checks. It was seldom that Edison signed
a letter or check at this time. If he wanted personally to send a
communication to anybody, if it was one of his close associates, it
would probably be a pencil memorandum signed 'Edison.' I was a shorthand
writer, but seldom took down from Edison's dictation, unless it was on
some technical subject that I did not understand. I would go over
the correspondence with Edison, sometimes making a marginal note in
shorthand, and sometimes Edison would make his own notes on letters, and
I would be expected to clean up the correspondence with Edison's laconic
comments as a guide as to the character of answer to make. It was a very
common thing for Edison to write the words 'Yes' or 'No,' and this would
be all I had on which to base my answer. Edison marginalized documents
extensively. He had a wonderful ability in pointing out the weak points
of an agreement or a balance-sheet, all the while protesting he was no
lawyer or accountant; and his views were expressed in very few words,
but in a characteristic and emphatic manner.
"The first few months I was with Edison he spent most of the time in the
office at 65 Fifth Avenue. Then there was a great deal of trouble with
the life of the lamps there, and he disappeared from the office and
spent his time largely at Menlo Park. At another time there was a great
deal of trouble with some of the details of construction of the dynamos,
and Edison spent a lot of time at Goerck Street, which had been rapidly
equipped with the idea of turning out bi-polar dynamo-electric machines,
direct-connected to the engine, the first of which went to Paris and
London, while the next were installed in the old Pearl Street station
of the Edison Electric Illuminating Company of New York, just south of
Fulton Street, on the west side of the street. Edison devoted a great
deal of his time to the engineering work in connection with the laying
out of the first incandescent electric-lighting system in New York.
Apparently at that time--between the end of 1881 and spring of 1882--the
most serious work was the manufacture and installation of underground
conductors in this territory. These conductors were manufactured by
the Electric Tube Company, which Edison controlled in a shop at 65
Washington Street, run by John Kruesi. Half-round copper conductors were
used, kept in place relatively to each other and in the tube, first of
all by a heavy piece of cardboard, and later on by a rope; and then put
in a twenty-foot iron pipe; and a combination of asphaltum and linseed
oil was forced into the pipe for the insulation. I remember as a
coincidence that the building was only twenty feet wide. These lengths
of conductors were twenty feet six inches long, as the half-round
coppers extended three inches beyond the drag-ends of the lengths of
pipe; and in one of the operations we used to take the length of tubing
out of the window in order to turn it around. I was elected secretary of
the Electric Tube Company, and was expected to look after its finance;
and it was in this position that my long intimacy with John Kruesi
started."
At this juncture a large part of the correspondence referred very
naturally to electric lighting, embodying requests for all kinds of
information, catalogues, prices, terms, etc.; and all these letters were
turned over to the lighting company by Edison for attention. The company
was soon swamped with propositions for sale of territorial rights and
with other negotiations, and some of these were accompanied by the offer
of very large sums of money. It was the beginning of the electric-light
furor which soon rose to sensational heights. Had the company accepted
the cash offers from various localities, it could have gathered several
millions of dollars at once into its treasury; but this was not at
all in accord with Mr. Edison's idea, which was to prove by actual
experience the commercial value of the system, and then to license
central-station companies in large cities and towns, the parent company
taking a percentage of their capital for the license under the Edison
patents, and contracting also for the supply of apparatus, lamps, etc.
This left the remainder of the country open for the cash sale of plants
wherever requested. His counsels prevailed, and the wisdom of the policy
adopted was seen in the swift establishment of Edison companies in
centres of population both great and small, whose business has ever been
a constant and growing source of income for the parent manufacturing
interests.
From first to last Edison has been an exponent and advocate of the
central-station idea of distribution now so familiar to the public mind,
but still very far from being carried out to its logical conclusion.
In this instance, demands for isolated plants for lighting factories,
mills, mines, hotels, etc., began to pour in, and something had to be
done with them. This was a class of plant which the inquirers desired to
purchase outright and operate themselves, usually because of remoteness
from any possible source of general supply of current. It had not been
Edison's intention to cater to this class of customer until his broad
central-station plan had been worked out, and he has always discouraged
the isolated plant within the limits of urban circuits; but this demand
was so insistent it could not be denied, and it was deemed desirable to
comply with it at once, especially as it was seen that the steady call
for supplies and renewals would benefit the new Edison manufacturing
plants. After a very short trial, it was found necessary to create
a separate organization for this branch of the industry, leaving the
Edison Electric Light Company to continue under the original plan of
operation as a parent, patent-holding and licensing company. Accordingly
a new and distinct corporation was formed called the Edison Company for
Isolated Lighting, to which was issued a special license to sell and
operate plants of a self-contained character. As a matter of fact such
work began in advance of almost every other kind. A small plant using
the paper-carbon filament lamps was furnished by Edison at the earnest
solicitation of Mr. Henry Villard for the steamship Columbia, in 1879,
and it is amusing to note that Mr. Upton carried the lamps himself
to the ship, very tenderly and jealously, like fresh eggs, in a
market-garden basket. The installation was most successful. Another
pioneer plant was that equipped and started in January, 1881, for Hinds
& Ketcham, a New York firm of lithographers and color printers, who
had previously been able to work only by day, owing to difficulties in
color-printing by artificial light. A year later they said: "It is the
best substitute for daylight we have ever known, and almost as cheap."
Mr. Edison himself describes various instances in which the demand for
isolated plants had to be met: "One night at '65,'" he says, "James
Gordon Bennett came in. We were very anxious to get into a printing
establishment. I had caused a printer's composing case to be set up with
the idea that if we could get editors and publishers in to see it, we
should show them the advantages of the electric light. So ultimately
Mr. Bennett came, and after seeing the whole operation of everything,
he ordered Mr. Howland, general manager of the Herald, to light the
newspaper offices up at once with electricity."
Another instance of the same kind deals with the introduction of the
light for purely social purposes: "While at 65 Fifth Avenue," remarks
Mr. Edison, "I got to know Christian Herter, then the largest decorator
in the United States. He was a highly intellectual man, and I loved to
talk to him. He was always railing against the rich people, for whom
he did work, for their poor taste. One day Mr. W. H. Vanderbilt came
to '65,' saw the light, and decided that he would have his new house
lighted with it. This was one of the big 'box houses' on upper Fifth
Avenue. He put the whole matter in the hands of his son-in-law, Mr. H.
McK. Twombly, who was then in charge of the telephone department of
the Western Union. Twombly closed the contract with us for a plant. Mr.
Herter was doing the decoration, and it was extraordinarily fine. After
a while we got the engines and boilers and wires all done, and the
lights in position, before the house was quite finished, and thought we
would have an exhibit of the light. About eight o'clock in the evening
we lit up, and it was very good. Mr. Vanderbilt and his wife and some
of his daughters came in, and were there a few minutes when a fire
occurred. The large picture-gallery was lined with silk cloth interwoven
with fine metallic thread. In some manner two wires had got crossed with
this tinsel, which became red-hot, and the whole mass was soon afire. I
knew what was the matter, and ordered them to run down and shut off.
It had not burst into flame, and died out immediately. Mrs. Vanderbilt
became hysterical, and wanted to know where it came from. We told her we
had the plant in the cellar, and when she learned we had a boiler there
she said she would not occupy the house. She would not live over a
boiler. We had to take the whole installation out. The houses afterward
went onto the New York Edison system."