Edison, His Life and Inventions

F >> Frank Lewis Dyer and Thomas Commerford Martin >> Edison, His Life and Inventions


The "road to yesterday" back to Edison and his insistence on underground
wires is a long one, but the preceding paragraph traces it. Even
admitting that the size and weight of his low-tension conductors
necessitated putting them underground, this argues nothing against the
propriety and sanity of his methods. He believed deeply and firmly in
the analogy between electrical supply and that for water and gas, and
pointed to the trite fact that nobody hoisted the water and gas mains
into the air on stilts, and that none of the pressures were inimical
to human safety. The arc-lighting methods were unconsciously and
unwittingly prophetic of the latter-day long-distance transmissions at
high pressure that, electrically, have placed the energy of Niagara at
the command of Syracuse and Utica, and have put the power of the falling
waters of the Sierras at the disposal of San Francisco, two hundred
miles away. But within city limits overhead wires, with such
space-consuming potentials, are as fraught with mischievous peril to the
public as the dynamite stored by a nonchalant contractor in the cellar
of a schoolhouse. As an offset, then, to any tendency to depreciate the
intrinsic value of Edison's lighting work, let the claim be here set
forth modestly and subject to interference, that he was the father of
underground wires in America, and by his example outlined the policy now
dominant in every city of the first rank. Even the comment of a cynic
in regard to electrical development may be accepted: "Some electrical
companies wanted all the air; others apparently had use for all the
water; Edison only asked for the earth."

The late Jacob Hess, a famous New York Republican politician, was a
member of the commission appointed to put the wires underground in New
York City, in the "eighties." He stated that when the commission was
struggling with the problem, and examining all kinds of devices and
plans, patented and unpatented, for which fabulous sums were often
asked, the body turned to Edison in its perplexity and asked for advice.
Edison said: "All you have to do, gentlemen, is to insulate your wires,
draw them through the cheapest thing on earth--iron pipe--run your pipes
through channels or galleries under the street, and you've got the whole
thing done." This was practically the system adopted and in use to
this day. What puzzled the old politician was that Edison would accept
nothing for his advice.

Another story may also be interpolated here as to the underground work
done in New York for the first Edison station. It refers to the "man
higher up," although the phrase had not been coined in those days
of lower public morality. That a corporation should be "held up" was
accepted philosophically by the corporation as one of the unavoidable
incidents of its business; and if the corporation "got back" by securing
some privilege without paying for it, the public was ready to condone
if not applaud. Public utilities were in the making, and no one in
particular had a keen sense of what was right or what was wrong, in
the hard, practical details of their development. Edison tells this
illuminating story: "When I was laying tubes in the streets of New York,
the office received notice from the Commissioner of Public Works to
appear at his office at a certain hour. I went up there with a gentleman
to see the Commissioner, H. O. Thompson. On arrival he said to me: 'You
are putting down these tubes. The Department of Public Works requires
that you should have five inspectors to look after this work, and that
their salary shall be $5 per day, payable at the end of each week.
Good-morning.' I went out very much crestfallen, thinking I would be
delayed and harassed in the work which I was anxious to finish, and
was doing night and day. We watched patiently for those inspectors to
appear. The only appearance they made was to draw their pay Saturday
afternoon."

Just before Christmas in 1880--December 17--as an item for the silk
stocking of Father Knickerbocker--the Edison Electric Illuminating
Company of New York was organized. In pursuance of the policy adhered
to by Edison, a license was issued to it for the exclusive use of
the system in that territory--Manhattan Island--in consideration of a
certain sum of money and a fixed percentage of its capital in stock for
the patent rights. Early in 1881 it was altogether a paper enterprise,
but events moved swiftly as narrated already, and on June 25, 1881,
the first "Jumbo" prototype of the dynamo-electric machines to generate
current at the Pearl Street station was put through its paces before
being shipped to Paris to furnish new sensations to the flaneur of the
boulevards. A number of the Edison officers and employees assembled at
Goerck Street to see this "gigantic" machine go into action, and watched
its performance with due reverence all through the night until five
o'clock on Sunday morning, when it respected the conventionalities by
breaking a shaft and suspending further tests. After this dynamo was
shipped to France, and its successors to England for the Holborn Viaduct
plant, Edison made still further improvements in design, increasing
capacity and economy, and then proceeded vigorously with six machines
for Pearl Street.

An ideal location for any central station is at the very centre of the
district served. It may be questioned whether it often goes there. In
the New York first district the nearest property available was a double
building at Nos. 255 and 257 Pearl Street, occupying a lot so by 100
feet. It was four stories high, with a fire-wall dividing it into
two equal parts. One of these parts was converted for the uses of the
station proper, and the other was used as a tube-shop by the underground
construction department, as well as for repair-shops, storage, etc.
Those were the days when no one built a new edifice for station
purposes; that would have been deemed a fantastic extravagance. One
early station in New York for arc lighting was an old soap-works whose
well-soaked floors did not need much additional grease to render them
choice fuel for the inevitable flames. In this Pearl Street instance,
the building, erected originally for commercial uses, was quite
incapable of sustaining the weight of the heavy dynamos and
steam-engines to be installed on the second floor; so the old flooring
was torn out and a new one of heavy girders supported by stiff columns
was substituted. This heavy construction, more familiar nowadays, and
not unlike the supporting metal structure of the Manhattan Elevated
road, was erected independent of the enclosing walls, and occupied the
full width of 257 Pearl Street, and about three-quarters of its depth.
This change in the internal arrangements did not at all affect the ugly
external appearance, which did little to suggest the stately and
ornate stations since put up by the New York Edison Company, the latest
occupying whole city blocks.

Of this episode Edison gives the following account: "While planning
for my first New York station--Pearl Street--of course, I had no real
estate, and from lack of experience had very little knowledge of its
cost in New York; so I assumed a rather large, liberal amount of it to
plan my station on. It occurred to me one day that before I went too far
with my plans I had better find out what real estate was worth. In my
original plan I had 200 by 200 feet. I thought that by going down on a
slum street near the water-front I would get some pretty cheap property.
So I picked out the worst dilapidated street there was, and found I
could only get two buildings, each 25 feet front, one 100 feet deep and
the other 85 feet deep. I thought about $10,000 each would cover it;
but when I got the price I found that they wanted $75,000 for one and
$80,000 for the other. Then I was compelled to change my plans and
go upward in the air where real estate was cheap. I cleared out the
building entirely to the walls and built my station of structural
ironwork, running it up high."

Into this converted structure was put the most complete steam plant
obtainable, together with all the mechanical and engineering adjuncts
bearing upon economical and successful operation. Being in a narrow
street and a congested district, the plant needed special facilities for
the handling of coal and ashes, as well as for ventilation and forced
draught. All of these details received Mr. Edison's personal care and
consideration on the spot, in addition to the multitude of other affairs
demanding his thought. Although not a steam or mechanical engineer, his
quick grasp of principles and omnivorous reading had soon supplied the
lack of training; nor had he forgotten the practical experience picked
up as a boy on the locomotives of the Grand Trunk road. It is to
be noticed as a feature of the plant, in common with many of later
construction, that it was placed well away from the water's edge,
and equipped with non-condensing engines; whereas the modern plant
invariably seeks the bank of a river or lake for the purpose of a
generous supply of water for its condensing engines or steam-turbines.
These are among the refinements of practice coincidental with the
advance of the art.

At the award of the John Fritz gold medal in April, 1909, to Charles T.
Porter for his work in advancing the knowledge of steam-engineering, and
for improvements in engine construction, Mr. Frank J. Sprague spoke on
behalf of the American Institute of Electrical Engineers of the debt of
electricity to the high-speed steam-engine. He recalled the fact that
at the French Exposition of 1867 Mr. Porter installed two Porter-Allen
engines to drive electric alternating-current generators for supplying
current to primitive lighthouse apparatus. While the engines were not
directly coupled to the dynamos, it was a curious fact that the piston
speeds and number of revolutions were what is common to-day in isolated
direct-coupled plants. In the dozen years following Mr. Porter built
many engines with certain common characteristics--i.e., high piston
speed and revolutions, solid engine bed, and babbitt-metal bearings; but
there was no electric driving until 1880, when Mr. Porter installed a
high-speed engine for Edison at his laboratory in Menlo Park. Shortly
after this he was invited to construct for the Edison Pearl Street
station the first of a series of engines for so-called "steam-dynamos,"
each independently driven by a direct-coupled engine. Mr. Sprague
compared the relations thus established between electricity and the
high-speed engine not to those of debtor and creditor, but rather to
those of partners--an industrial marriage--one of the most important
in the engineering world. Here were two machines destined to be joined
together, economizing space, enhancing economy, augmenting capacity,
reducing investment, and increasing dividends.

While rapid progress was being made in this and other directions, the
wheels of industry were humming merrily at the Edison Tube Works, for
over fifteen miles of tube conductors were required for the district,
besides the boxes to connect the network at the street intersections,
and the hundreds of junction boxes for taking the service conductors
into each of the hundreds of buildings. In addition to the immense
amount of money involved, this specialized industry required an enormous
amount of experiment, as it called for the development of an entirely
new art. But with Edison's inventive fertility--if ever there was a
cross-fertilizer of mechanical ideas it is he--and with Mr. Kruesi's
never-failing patience and perseverance applied to experiment and
evolution, rapid progress was made. A franchise having been obtained
from the city, the work of laying the underground conductors began in
the late fall of 1881, and was pushed with almost frantic energy. It
is not to be supposed, however, that the Edison tube system had then
reached a finality of perfection in the eyes of its inventor. In his
correspondence with Kruesi, as late as 1887, we find Edison bewailing
the inadequacy of the insulation of the conductors under twelve hundred
volts pressure, as for example: "Dear Kruesi,--There is nothing wrong
with your present compound. It is splendid. The whole trouble is
air-bubbles. The hotter it is poured the greater the amount of
air-bubbles. At 212 it can be put on rods and there is no bubble. I have
a man experimenting and testing all the time. Until I get at the proper
method of pouring and getting rid of the air-bubbles, it will be waste
of time to experiment with other asphalts. Resin oil distils off easily.
It may answer, but paraffine or other similar substances must be put in
to prevent brittleness, One thing is certain, and that is, everything
must be poured in layers, not only the boxes, but the tubes. The tube
itself should have a thin coating. The rope should also have a coating.
The rods also. The whole lot, rods and rope, when ready for tube, should
have another coat, and then be placed in tube and filled. This will
do the business." Broad and large as a continent in his ideas, if ever
there was a man of finical fussiness in attention to detail, it
is Edison. A letter of seven pages of about the same date in 1887
expatiates on the vicious troubles caused by the air-bubble, and remarks
with fine insight into the problems of insulation and the idea of layers
of it: "Thus you have three separate coatings, and it is impossible an
air-hole in one should match the other."

To a man less thorough and empirical in method than Edison, it would
have been sufficient to have made his plans clear to associates or
subordinates and hold them responsible for accurate results. No such
vicarious treatment would suit him, ready as he has always been to share
the work where he could give his trust. In fact he realized, as no
one else did at this stage, the tremendous import of this novel and
comprehensive scheme for giving the world light; and he would not let
go, even if busy to the breaking-point. Though plunged in a veritable
maelstrom of new and important business interests, and though applying
for no fewer than eighty-nine patents in 1881, all of which were
granted, he superintended on the spot all this laying of underground
conductors for the first district. Nor did he merely stand around and
give orders. Day and night he actually worked in the trenches with the
laborers, amid the dirt and paving-stones and hurry-burly of traffic,
helping to lay the tubes, filling up junction-boxes, and taking part in
all the infinite detail. He wanted to know for himself how things
went, why for some occult reason a little change was necessary, what
improvement could be made in the material. His hours of work were not
regulated by the clock, but lasted until he felt the need of a little
rest. Then he would go off to the station building in Pearl Street,
throw an overcoat on a pile of tubes, lie down and sleep for a few
hours, rising to resume work with the first gang. There was a small
bedroom on the third floor of the station available for him, but
going to bed meant delay and consumed time. It is no wonder that such
impatience, such an enthusiasm, drove the work forward at a headlong
pace.

Edison says of this period: "When we put down the tubes in the lower
part of New York, in the streets, we kept a big stock of them in the
cellar of the station at Pearl Street. As I was on all the time, I would
take a nap of an hour or so in the daytime--any time--and I used to
sleep on those tubes in the cellar. I had two Germans who were testing
there, and both of them died of diphtheria, caught in the cellar, which
was cold and damp. It never affected me."

It is worth pausing just a moment to glance at this man taking a fitful
rest on a pile of iron pipe in a dingy building. His name is on the
tip of the world's tongue. Distinguished scientists from every part of
Europe seek him eagerly. He has just been decorated and awarded high
honors by the French Government. He is the inventor of wonderful new
apparatus, and the exploiter of novel and successful arts. The magic of
his achievements and the rumors of what is being done have caused a wild
drop in gas securities, and a sensational rise in his own electric-light
stock from $100 to $3500 a share. Yet these things do not at all affect
his slumber or his democratic simplicity, for in that, as in everything
else, he is attending strictly to business, "doing the thing that is
next to him."

Part of the rush and feverish haste was due to the approach of frost,
which, as usual in New York, suspended operations in the earth; but the
laying of the conductors was resumed promptly in the spring of 1882; and
meantime other work had been advanced. During the fall and winter months
two more "Jumbo" dynamos were built and sent to London, after which the
construction of six for New York was swiftly taken in hand. In the month
of May three of these machines, each with a capacity of twelve hundred
incandescent lamps, were delivered at Pearl Street and assembled on the
second floor. On July 5th--owing to the better opportunity for ceaseless
toil given by a public holiday--the construction of the operative part
of the station was so far completed that the first of the dynamos
was operated under steam; so that three days later the satisfactory
experiment was made of throwing its flood of electrical energy into a
bank of one thousand lamps on an upper floor. Other tests followed in
due course. All was excitement. The field-regulating apparatus and the
electrical-pressure indicator--first of its kind--were also tested,
and in turn found satisfactory. Another vital test was made at this
time--namely, of the strength of the iron structure itself on which the
plant was erected. This was done by two structural experts; and not till
he got their report as to ample factors of safety was Edison reassured
as to this detail.

A remark of Edison, familiar to all who have worked with him, when it
is reported to him that something new goes all right and is satisfactory
from all points of view, is: "Well, boys, now let's find the bugs,"
and the hunt for the phylloxera begins with fiendish, remorseless zest.
Before starting the plant for regular commercial service, he began
personally a series of practical experiments and tests to ascertain in
advance what difficulties would actually arise in practice, so that he
could provide remedies or preventives. He had several cots placed in the
adjoining building, and he and a few of his most strenuous assistants
worked day and night, leaving the work only for hurried meals and a
snatch of sleep. These crucial tests, aiming virtually to break the
plant down if possible within predetermined conditions, lasted several
weeks, and while most valuable in the information they afforded, did
not hinder anything, for meantime customers' premises throughout the
district were being wired and supplied with lamps and meters.

On Monday, September 4, 1882, at 3 o'clock, P.M., Edison realized the
consummation of his broad and original scheme. The Pearl Street station
was officially started by admitting steam to the engine of one of the
"Jumbos," current was generated, turned into the network of underground
conductors, and was transformed into light by the incandescent lamps
that had thus far been installed. This date and event may properly be
regarded as historical, for they mark the practical beginning of a new
art, which in the intervening years has grown prodigiously, and is still
increasing by leaps and bounds.

Everything worked satisfactorily in the main. There were a few
mechanical and engineering annoyances that might naturally be expected
to arise in a new and unprecedented enterprise; but nothing of
sufficient moment to interfere with the steady and continuous supply
of current to customers at all hours of the day and night. Indeed, once
started, this station was operated uninterruptedly for eight years with
only insignificant stoppage.

It will have been noted by the reader that there was nothing to indicate
rashness in starting up the station, as only one dynamo was put in
operation. Within a short time, however, it was deemed desirable to
supply the underground network with more current, as many additional
customers had been connected and the demand for the new light was
increasing very rapidly. Although Edison had successfully operated
several dynamos in multiple arc two years before--i.e., all feeding
current together into the same circuits--there was not, at this early
period of experience, any absolute certainty as to what particular
results might occur upon the throwing of the current from two or more
such massive dynamos into a great distributing system. The sequel
showed the value of Edison's cautious method in starting the station by
operating only a single unit at first.

He decided that it would be wise to make the trial operation of a second
"Jumbo" on a Sunday, when business houses were closed in the district,
thus obviating any danger of false impressions in the public mind in the
event of any extraordinary manifestations. The circumstances attending
the adding of a second dynamo are thus humorously described by Edison:
"My heart was in my mouth at first, but everything worked all right....
Then we started another engine and threw them in parallel. Of all the
circuses since Adam was born, we had the worst then! One engine would
stop, and the other would run up to about a thousand revolutions, and
then they would see-saw. The trouble was with the governors. When
the circus commenced, the gang that was standing around ran out
precipitately, and I guess some of them kept running for a block or two.
I grabbed the throttle of one engine, and E. H. Johnson, who was the
only one present to keep his wits, caught hold of the other, and we shut
them off." One of the "gang" that ran, but, in this case, only to
the end of the room, afterward said: "At the time it was a terrifying
experience, as I didn't know what was going to happen. The engines and
dynamos made a horrible racket, from loud and deep groans to a hideous
shriek, and the place seemed to be filled with sparks and flames of all
colors. It was as if the gates of the infernal regions had been suddenly
opened."

This trouble was at once attacked by Edison in his characteristic and
strenuous way. The above experiment took place between three and four
o'clock on a Sunday afternoon, and within a few hours he had gathered
his superintendent and men of the machine-works and had them at work on
a shafting device that he thought would remedy the trouble. He says: "Of
course, I discovered that what had happened was that one set was running
the other as a motor. I then put up a long shaft, connecting all the
governors together, and thought this would certainly cure the trouble;
but it didn't. The torsion of the shaft was so great that one governor
still managed to get ahead of the others. Well, it was a serious state
of things, and I worried over it a lot. Finally I went down to Goerck
Street and got a piece of shafting and a tube in which it fitted. I
twisted the shafting one way and the tube the other as far as I could,
and pinned them together. In this way, by straining the whole outfit up
to its elastic limit in opposite directions, the torsion was practically
eliminated, and after that the governors ran together all right."

Edison realized, however, that in commercial practice this was only a
temporary expedient, and that a satisfactory permanence of results could
only be attained with more perfect engines that could be depended upon
for close and simple regulation. The engines that were made part of the
first three "Jumbos" placed in the station were the very best that could
be obtained at the time, and even then had been specially designed and
built for the purpose. Once more quoting Edison on this subject: "About
that time" (when he was trying to run several dynamos in parallel in the
Pearl Street station) "I got hold of Gardiner C. Sims, and he undertook
to build an engine to run at three hundred and fifty revolutions
and give one hundred and seventy-five horse-power. He went back to
Providence and set to work, and brought the engine back with him to the
shop. It worked only a few minutes when it busted. That man sat around
that shop and slept in it for three weeks, until he got his engine right
and made it work the way he wanted it to. When he reached this period
I gave orders for the engine-works to run night and day until we got
enough engines, and when all was ready we started the engines. Then
everything worked all right.... One of these engines that Sims built ran
twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five days in the year,
for over a year before it stopped." [12]

[Footnote 12: We quote the following interesting notes of
Mr. Charles L. Clarke on the question of see-sawing, or
"hunting," as it was afterward termed:

"In the Holborn Viaduct station the difficulty of 'hunting' was not
experienced. At the time the 'Jumbos' were first operated in multiple
arc, April 8, 1882, one machine was driven by a Porter-Allen engine,
and the other by an Armington & Sims engine, and both machines were on
a solid foundation. At the station at Milan, Italy, the first 'Jumbos'
operated in multiple arc were driven by Porter-Allen engines, and
dash-pots were applied to the governors. These machines were also upon a
solid foundation, and no trouble was experienced.