Samuel F. B. Morse, His Letters and Journals / In Two Volumes, Volume II

by Samuel Finley Breese Morse

CHAPTER XXII

1833—1836

Still painting.—Thoughts on art.—Picture of the Louvre.—Rejection as painter of one of the pictures in the Capitol.—John Quincy Adams.—James Fenimore Cooper's article.—Death blow to his artistic ambition.— Washington Allston's letter.—Commission by fellow artists.—Definite abandonment of art.—Repayment of money advanced.—Death of Lafayette.— Religious controversies.—Appointed Professor in University of City of New York.—Description of first telegraphic instrument.—Successful experiments.—Relay.—Address in 1853.

It was impossible for the inventor during the next few years to devote himself entirely to the construction of a machine to test his theories, impatient though he must have been to put his ideas into practical form. His two brothers came nobly to his assistance, and did what lay in their power and according to their means to help him; but it was always repugnant to him to be under pecuniary obligations to any one, and, while gratefully accepting his brothers' help, he strained every nerve to earn the money to pay them back. We, therefore, find little or no reference in the letters of those years to his invention, and it was not until the year 1835 that he was able to make any appreciable progress towards the perfection of his telegraphic apparatus. The intervening years were spent in efforts to rouse an interest in the fine arts in this country; in hard work in behalf of the still young Academy of Design; and in trying to earn a living by the practice of his profession.

"During this time," he says, "I never lost faith in the practicability of the invention, nor abandoned the intention of testing it as soon as I could command the means." But in order to command the means, he was obliged to devote himself to his art, and in this he did not meet with the encouragement which he had expected and which he deserved. His ideals were always high, perhaps too high for the materialistic age in which he found himself. The following fugitive note will illustrate the trend of his thoughts, and is not inapplicable to conditions at the present day:—

"Are not the refining influences of the fine arts needed, doubly needed, in our country? Is there not a tendency in the democracy of our country to low and vulgar pleasures and pursuits? Does not the contact of those more cultivated in mind and elevated in purpose with those who are less so, and to whom the former look for political favor and power, necessarily debase that cultivated mind and that elevation of purpose? When those are exalted to office who best can flatter the low appetites of the vulgar; when boorishness and ill manners are preferred to polish and refinement, and when, indeed, the latter, if not avowedly, are in reality made an objection, is there not danger that those who would otherwise encourage refinement will fear to show their favorable inclination lest those to whom they look for favor shall be displeased; and will not habit fix it, and another generation bear it as its own inherent, native character?"

That he was naturally optimistic is shown by a footnote which he added to this thought, dated October, 1833:—

"These were once my fears. There is doubtless danger, but I believe in the possibility, by the diffusion of the highest moral and intellectual cultivation through every class, of raising the lower classes in refinement."

But while in his leisure moments he could indulge in such hopeful dreams, his chief care at that time, as stated at the beginning of this chapter, was to earn money by the exercise of his profession. His important painting of the Louvre, from which he had hoped so much, was placed on exhibition, and, while it received high praise from the artists, its exhibition barely paid expenses, and it was finally sold to Mr. George Clarke, of Hyde Hall, on Otsego Lake, for thirteen hundred dollars, although the artist had expected to get at least twenty-five hundred dollars for it. In a letter to Mr. Clarke, of June 30, 1834, he says:—

"The picture of the Louvre was intended originally for an exhibition picture, and I painted it in the expectation of disposing of it to some person for that purpose who could amply remunerate himself from the receipts of a well-managed exhibition. The time occupied upon this picture was fourteen months, and at much expense and inconvenience, so that that sum [$2500] for it, if sold under such circumstances, would not be more than a fair compensation.

"I was aware that but few, if any, gentlemen in our country would be willing to expend so large a sum on a single picture, although in fact they would, in this case, purchase seven-and-thirty in one.

"I have lately changed my plans in relation to this picture and to my art generally, and consequently I am able to dispose of it at a much less price. I have need of funds to prosecute my new plans, and, if this picture could now realize the sum of twelve hundred dollars it would at this moment be to me equivalent in value to the sum first set upon it."

The change of plans no doubt referred to his desire to pursue his electrical experiments, and for this ready money was most necessary, and so he gladly, and even gratefully, accepted Mr. Clarke's offer of twelve hundred dollars for the painting and one hundred dollars for the frame. Even this was not cash, but was in the form of a note payable in a year! His enthusiasm for his art seems at this period to have been gradually waning, although he still strove to command success; but it needed a decisive stroke to wean him entirely from his first love, and Fate did not long delay the blow.

His great ambition had always been to paint historical pictures which should commemorate the glorious events in the history of his beloved country. In the early part of the year 1834 his great opportunity had, apparently, come, and he was ready and eager to grasp it. There were four huge panels in the rotunda of the Capitol at Washington, which were still to be filled by historical paintings, and a committee in Congress was appointed to select the artists to execute them.

Morse, president of the National Academy of Design, and enthusiastically supported by the best artists in the country, had every reason to suppose that he would be chosen to execute at least one of these paintings. Confident that he had but to make his wishes known to secure the commission, he addressed the following circular letter to various members of Congress, among whom were such famous men as Daniel Webster, John C. Calhoun, Henry Clay, and John Quincy Adams, all personally known to him:—

March 7, 1834.

MY DEAR SIR,—I perceive that the Library Committee have before them the consideration of a resolution on the expediency of employing four artists to paint the remaining four pictures in the Rotunda of the Capitol. If Congress should pass a resolution in favor of the measure, I should esteem it a great honor to be selected as one of the artists.

I have devoted twenty years of my life, of which seven were passed in England, France, and Italy, studying with special reference to the execution of works of the kind proposed, and I must refer to my professional life and character in proof of my ability to do honor to the commission and to the country.

May I take the liberty to ask for myself your favorable recommendation to those in Congress who have the disposal of the commissions?

With great respect, Sir,
Your most obedient servant,
S.F.B. MORSE.

While this letter was written in 1834, the final decision of the committee was not made until 1837, but I shall anticipate a little and give the result which had such a momentous effect on Morse's career. There was every reason to believe that his request would be granted, and he and his friends, many of whom endorsed by letter his candidacy, had no fear as to the result; but here again Fate intervened and ordered differently.

Among the committee men in Congress to whom this matter was referred was John Quincy Adams, ex-President of the United States. In discussing the subject, Mr. Adams submitted a resolution opening the competition to foreign artists as well as to American, giving it as his opinion that there were no artists in this country of sufficient talent properly to execute such monumental works. The artists and their friends were, naturally, greatly incensed at this slur cast upon them, and an indignant and remarkably able reply appeared anonymously in the New York "Evening Post." The authorship of this article was at once saddled on Morse, who was known to wield a facile and fearless pen. Mr. Adams took great offense, and, as a result, Morse's name was rejected and his great opportunity passed him by. There can be no reasonable doubt that, had he received this commission, he would have deferred the perfecting of his telegraphic device until others had so far distanced him in the race that he could never have overtaken them.

Instead of his having been the author of the "Evening Post" article, it transpired that he had not even heard of Mr. Adams's resolution until his friend Fenimore Cooper, the real author of the answer, told him of both attack and reply.

This was the second great tragedy of Morse's life; the first was the untimely death of his young wife, and this other marked the death of his hopes and ambitions as an artist. He was stunned. The blow was as unexpected as it was overwhelming, and what added to its bitterness was that it had been innocently dealt by the hand of one of his dearest friends, who had sought to render him a favor. The truth came out too late to influence the decision of the committee; the die was cast, and his whole future was changed in the twinkling of an eye; for what had been to him a joy and an inspiration, he now turned from in despair. He could not, of course, realize at the time that Fate, in dealing him this cruel blow, was dedicating him to a higher destiny. It is doubtful if he ever fully realized this, for in after years he could never speak of it unmoved. In a letter to this same friend, Fenimore Cooper, written on November 20, 1849, he thus laments:—

"Alas! My dear sir, the very name of pictures produces a sadness of heart I cannot describe. Painting has been a smiling mistress to many, but she has been a cruel jilt to me. I did not abandon her, she abandoned me. I have taken scarcely any interest in painting for many years. Will you believe it? When last in Paris, in 1845, I did not go into the Louvre, nor did I visit a single picture gallery.

"I sometimes indulge a vague dream that I may paint again. It is rather the memory of past pleasures, when hope was enticing me onward only to deceive me at last. Except some family portraits, valuable to me from their likenesses only, I could wish that every picture I ever painted was destroyed. I have no wish to be remembered as a painter, for I never was a painter. My ideal of that profession was, perhaps, too exalted—I may say is too exalted. I leave it to others more worthy to fill the niches of art."

Of course his self-condemnation was too severe, for we have seen that present-day critics assign him an honorable place in the annals of art, and while, at the time of writing that letter, he had definitely abandoned the brush, he continued to paint for some years after his rejection by the committee of Congress. He had to, for it was his only means of earning a livelihood, but the old enthusiasm was gone never to return. Fortunately for himself and for the world, however, he transferred it to the perfecting of his invention, and devoted all the time he could steal from the daily routine of his duties to that end.

His friends sympathized with him most heartily and were indignant at his rejection. Washington Allston wrote to him:—

I have learned the disposition of the pictures. I had hoped to find your name among the commissioned artists, but I was grieved to find that all my efforts in your behalf have proved fruitless. I know what your disappointment must have been at this result, and most sincerely do I sympathize with you. That my efforts were both sincere and conscientious I hope will be some consolation to you.

But let not this disappointment cast you down, my friend. You have it still in your power to let the world know what you can do. Dismiss it, then, from your mind, and determine to paint all the better for it. God bless you.

Your affectionate friend
WASHINGTON ALLSTON.

The following sentences from a letter written on March 14, 1837, by Thomas Cole, one of the most celebrated of the early American painters, will show in what estimation Morse was held by his brother artists:—

"I have learned with mortification and disappointment that your name was not among the chosen, and I have feared that you would carry into effect your resolution of abandoning the art and resigning the presidency of our Academy. I sincerely hope you will have reason to cast aside that resolution. To you our Academy owes its existence and present prosperity, and if, in after times, it should become a great institution, your name will always be coupled with its greatness. But, if you leave us, I very much fear that the fabric will crumble to pieces. You are the keystone of the arch; if you remain with us time may furnish the Academy with another block for the place. I hope my fears may be vain, and that circumstances will conspire to induce you to remain our president."

Other friends were equally sympathetic and Morse did retain the presidency of the Academy until 1845.

To emphasize further their regard for him, a number of artists, headed by Thomas S. Cummings, unknown to Morse, raised by subscription three thousand dollars, to be given to him for the painting of some historical subject. General Cummings, in his "Annals of the Academy," thus describes the receipt of the news by the discouraged artist:—

"The effect was electrical; it roused him from his depression and he exclaimed that never had he read or known of such an act of professional generosity, and that he was fully determined to paint the picture—his favorite subject, 'The Signing of the First Compact on board the Mayflower,'—not of small size, as requested, but of the size of the panels in the Rotunda. That was immediately assented to by the committee, thinking it possible that one or the other of the pictures so ordered might fail in execution, in which case it would afford favorable inducements to its substitution, and, of course, much to Mr. Morse's profit; as the artists from the first never contemplated taking possession of the picture so executed. It was to remain with Mr. Morse, and for his use and benefit."

The enthusiasm thus roused was but a flash in the pan, however; the wound he had received was too deep to be thus healed. Some of the money was raised and paid to him, and he made studies and sketches for the painting, but his mind was now on his invention, and the painting of the picture was deferred from year to year and finally abandoned. It was characteristic of him that, when he did finally decide to give up the execution of this work, he paid back the sums which had been advanced to him, with interest.

Another grief which came to him in the summer of 1834 (to return to that year) was the death of his illustrious friend General Lafayette. The last letter received from him was written by his amanuensis and unsigned, and simply said:—

"General Lafayette, being detained by sickness, has sent to the reporter of the committee the following note, which the said reporter has read to the House."

The note referred to is, unfortunately, missing. This letter was written on April 29 and the General died on May 20. Morse sent a letter of sympathy to the son, George Washington Lafayette, a member of the Chamber of Deputies, in which the following sentiments occur:—

"In common with this whole country, now clad in mourning, with the lovers of true liberty and of exalted philanthropy throughout the world, I bemoan the departure from earth of your immortal parent. Yet I may be permitted to indulge in additional feelings of more private sorrow at the loss of one who honored me with his friendship, and had not ceased, till within a few days of his death, to send to me occasional marks of his affectionate remembrance. Be assured, my dear Sir, that the memory of your father will be especially endeared to me and mine."

Morse's admiration of Lafayette was most sincere, and he was greatly influenced in his political feelings by his intercourse with that famous man. Among other opinions which he shared with Lafayette and other thoughtful men, was the fear of a Roman Catholic plot to gain control of the Government of the United States. He defended his views fearlessly and vigorously in the public press and by means of pamphlets, and later entered into a heated controversy with Bishop Spaulding of Kentucky.

I shall not attempt to treat exhaustively of these controversies, but think it only right to refer to them from time to time, not only that the clearest possible light may be shed upon Morse's character and convictions, but to show the extraordinary activity of his brain, which, while he was struggling against obstacles of all kinds, not only to make his invention a success, but for the very means of existence, could yet busy itself with the championing of what he conceived to be the right.

To illustrate his point of view I shall quote a few extracts from a letter to R.S. Willington, Esq., who was the editor of a journal which is referred to as the "Courier." This letter was written on May 20, 1835, when Morse's mind, we should think, would have been wholly absorbed in the details of the infant telegraph:—

"With regard to the more important matter of the Conspiracy, I perceive with regret that the evidence which has been convincing to so many minds of the first order, and which continues daily to spread conviction of the truth of the charge I have made, is still viewed by the editors of the 'Courier' as inconclusive. My situation in regard to those who dissent from me is somewhat singular. I have brought against the absolute Governments of Europe a charge of conspiracy against the liberties of the United States. I support the charge by facts, and by reasonings from those facts, which produce conviction on most of those who examine the matter…. But those that dissent simply say, 'I don't think there is a conspiracy'; yet give no reasons for dissent. The Catholic journals very artfully make no defense themselves, but adroitly make use of the Protestant defense kindly prepared for them….

"No Catholic journal has attempted any refutation of the charge. It cannot be refuted, for it is true. And be assured, my dear sir, it is no extravagant prediction when I say that the question of Popery and Protestantism, or Absolutism and Republicanism, which in these two opposite categories are convertible terms, is fast becoming and will shortly be the great absorbing question, not only of this country but of the whole civilized world. I speak not at random; I speak from long and diligent observation in Europe, and from comparison of the state of affairs in this country with the state of public opinion in Europe.

"We are asleep, sir, when every freeman should be awake and look to his arms…. Surely, if the danger is groundless, there can be no harm in endeavoring to ascertain its groundlessness. If you were told your house was on fire you would hardly think of calling the man a maniac for informing you of it, even if he should use a tone of voice and gestures somewhat earnest and impassioned. The course of some of our journals on the subject of Popery has led to the belief that they are covertly under the control of the Jesuits. And let me say, sir, that the modes of control in the resources of this insidious society, notorious for its political arts and intrigues, are more numerous, more powerful, and more various than an unsuspicious people are at all conscious of….

"Mr. Y. falls into the common error and deprecates what he calls a religious controversy, as if the subject of Popery was altogether religious. History, it appears to me, must have been read to very little purpose by any one who can entertain such an error in regard to the cunningest political despotism that ever cursed mankind. I must refer you to the preface of the second edition, which I send you, for my reasonings on that point. If they are not conclusive, I should be glad to be shown wherein they are defective. If they are conclusive, is it not time for every patriot to open his eyes to the truth of the fact that we are politically attacked under guise of a religious system, and is it not a serious question whether our political press should advocate the cause of foreign enemies to our government, or help to expose and repel them?"

It was in the year 1835 that Morse was appointed Professor of the Literature of the Arts of Design in the University of the City of New York, and here again we can mark the guiding hand of Fate. A few years earlier he had been tentatively offered the position of instructor of drawing at the United States Military Academy at West Point, but this offer he had promptly but courteously declined. Had he accepted it he would have missed the opportunity of meeting certain men who gave him valuable assistance. As an instructor in the University he not only received a small salary which relieved him, in a measure, from the grinding necessity of painting pot-boilers, but he had assigned to him spacious rooms in the building on Washington Square, which he could utilize not only as studio and living apartments, but as a workshop. For these rooms, however, he paid a rent, at first of $325 a year, afterwards of $400.

Three years had clasped since his first conception of the invention, and, although burning to devote himself to its perfecting, he had been compelled to hold himself in check and to devote all his time to painting. Now, however, an opportunity came to him, for he moved into the University building before it was entirely finished, and the stairways were in such an embryonic state that he could not expect sitters to attempt their perilous ascent. This enforced leisure gave him the chance he had long desired and he threw himself heart and soul into his electrical experiments. Writing of this period in later years he thus records his struggles:—

[Illustration: FIRST TELEGRAPH INSTRUMENT, 1837
Now in the National Museum, Washington]

"There I immediately commenced, with very limited means, to experiment upon my invention. My first instrument was made up of an old picture or canvas frame fastened to a table; the wheels of an old wooden clock moved by a weight to carry the paper forward; three wooden drums, upon one of which the paper was wound and passed over the other two; a wooden pendulum, suspended to the top piece of the picture or stretching-frame, and vibrating across the paper as it passes over the centre wooden drum; a pencil at the lower end of the pendulum in contact with the paper; an electro-magnet fastened to a shelf across the picture or stretching frame, opposite to an armature made fast to the pendulum; a type rule and type, for breaking the circuit, resting on an endless band composed of carpet-binding; which passed over two wooden rollers, moved by a wooden crank, and carried forward by points projecting from the bottom of the rule downward into the carpet-binding; a lever, with a small weight on the upper side, and a tooth projecting downward at one end, operated on by the type, and a metallic fork, also projecting downward, over two mercury cups; and a short circuit of wire embracing the helices of the electro-magnet connected with the positive and negative poles of the battery and terminating in the mercury cups."

This first rude instrument was carefully preserved by the inventor, and is now in the Morse case in the National Museum at Washington. A reproduction of it is here given.

I shall omit certain technical details in the inventor's account of this first instrument, but I wish to call attention to his ingenuity in adapting the means at his disposal to the end desired. Much capital has been made, by those who opposed his claims, out of the fact that this primitive apparatus could only produce a V-shaped mark, thus—

__ __ _ \/|__| |/\/ |/\/|__/

—and not a dot and a dash, which they insist was of later introduction and by another hand. But a reference to the sketches made on board the Sully will show that the original system of signs consisted of dots and lines, and that the first conception of the means to produce these signs was by an up-and-down motion of a lever controlled by an electro-magnet. It is easy to befog an issue by misstating facts, but the facts are here to speak for themselves, and that Morse temporarily abandoned his first idea, because he had not the means at his disposal to embody it in workable form and had recourse to another method for producing practically the same result, only shows wonderful ingenuity on his part. It can easily be seen that the waving line traced by the first instrument—thus,

__ __ _ \/|__| |/\/ |/\/|__/ —can be translated by reading the lower part into

a i u . - . . . . - of the final Morse alphabet.

The beginnings of every great invention have been clumsy and uncouth compared with the results attained by years of study and elaboration participated in by many clever brains. Contrast the Clermont of Fulton with the floating palaces of the present day, the Rocket of Stephenson with the powerful locomotives of our mile-a-minute fliers, and the hand-press of Gutenberg with the marvellous and intricate Hoe presses of modern times. And yet the names of those who first conceived and wrought these primitive contrivances stand highest in the roll of fame; and with justice, for it is infinitely easier to improve on the suggestion of another than to originate a practical advance in human endeavor.

Returning again to Morse's own account of his early experiments I shall quote the following sentences:—

"With this apparatus, rude as it was, and completed before the first of the year 1836, I was enabled to and did mark down telegraphic, intelligible signs, and to make and did make distinguishable sounds for telegraphing; and, having arrived at that point, I exhibited it to some of my friends early in that year, and among others to Professor Leonard D. Gale, who was a college professor in the University. I also experimented with the chemical power of the electric current in 1836, and succeeded, in marking my telegraphic signs upon paper dipped in turmeric and solution of the sulphate of soda (as well as other salts) by passing the current through it. I was soon satisfied, however, that the electro-magnetic power was more available for telegraphic purposes and possessed many advantages over any other, and I turned my thoughts in that direction.

"Early in 1836 I procured forty feet of wire, and, putting it in the circuit, I found that my battery of one cup was not sufficient to work my instrument. This result suggested to me the probability that the magnetism to be obtained from the electric current would diminish in proportion as the circuit was lengthened, so as to be insufficient for any practical purposes at great distances; and, to remove that probable obstacle to my success, I conceived the idea of combining two or more circuits together in the manner described in my first patent, each with an independent battery, making use of the magnetism of the current on the first to close and break the second; the second the third; and so on."

Thus modestly does he refer to what was, in fact, a wonderful discovery, the more wonderful because of its simplicity. Professor Horsford thus comments on it:—

"In 1835 Morse made the discovery of the relay, the most brilliant of all the achievements to which his name must be forever attached. It was a discovery of a means by which the current, which through distance from its source had become feeble, could be reënforced or renewed. This discovery, according to the different objects for which it is employed, is variously known as the registering magnet, the local circuit, the marginal circuit, the repeater, etc."

Professor Horsford places the date of this discovery in the year 1835, but Morse himself, in the statement quoted above, assigned it to the early part of 1836.

It is only fair to note that the discovery of the principle of the relay was made independently by other scientists, notably by Davy, Wheatstone, and Henry, but Morse apparently antedated them by a year or two, and could not possibly have been indebted to any of them for the idea. This point has given rise to much discussion among scientists which it will not be necessary to enter into here, for all authorities agree in according to Morse independent invention of the relay.

"Up to the autumn of 1837," again to quote Morse's own words, "my telegraphic apparatus existed in so rude a form that I felt a reluctance to have it seen. My means were very limited—so limited as to preclude the possibility of constructing an apparatus of such mechanical finish as to warrant my success in venturing upon its public exhibition. I had no wish to expose to ridicule the representative of so many hours of laborious thought.

"Prior to the summer of 1837, at which time Mr. Alfred Vail's attention became attracted to my telegraph, I depended upon my pencil for subsistence. Indeed, so straitened were my circumstances that, in order to save time to carry out my invention and to economize my scanty means, I had for months lodged and eaten in my studio, procuring my food in small quantities from some grocery, and preparing it myself. To conceal from my friends the stinted manner in which I lived, I was in the habit of bringing my food to my room in the evenings, and this was my mode of life for many years."

Nearly twenty years later, in 1853, Morse referred to this trying period in his career at a meeting of the Association of the Alumni of the University:—

"Yesternight, on once more entering your chapel, I saw the same marble staircase and marble floors I once so often trod, and so often with a heart and head overburdened with almost crushing anxieties. Separated from the chapel by but a thin partition was that room I occupied, now your Philomathean Hall, whose walls—had thoughts and mental struggles, with the alternations of joys and sorrows, the power of being daguerreotyped upon them—would show a thickly studded gallery of evidence that there the Briarean infant was born who has stretched forth his arms with the intent to encircle the world. Yes, that room of the University was the birthplace of the Recording Telegraph. Attempts, indeed, have been made to assign to it other parentage, and to its birthplace other localities. Personally I have very little anxiety on this point, except that the truth should not suffer; for I have a consciousness, which neither sophistry nor ignorance can shake, that that room is the place of its birth, and a confidence, too, that its cradle is in hands that will sustain its rightful claim."

The old building of the University of the City of New York on Washington Square has been torn down to be replaced by a mercantile structure; the University has moved to more spacious quarters in the upper part of the great city; but one of its notable buildings is the Hall of Fame, and among the first names to be immortalized in bronze in the stately colonnade was that of Samuel F.B. Morse.