Dr. Rudolph Messel.
[The following letter from Dr. Rudolph Messel, F.C.S., addressed to the author of this book, in reply to enquiries concerning Reis and his inventions, speaks for itself. Dr. Messel’s letter differs from almost all the others here reprinted in having been specially written for the purpose of being inserted in this volume.—S. P. T.]
“36, Mark Lane, London, 30th April, 1883.
“Dear Professor Thompson,
“At last I find a moment to comply with your request. My knowledge of Philipp Reis dates from 1860, when I was a pupil at Professor Garnier’s School at Friedrichsdorf, of which school Reis was one of the undermasters. Reis, naturally communicative, was very fond of talking to us boys about his scientific researches. And it was on the occasion of one of our daily walks together that he told me how, when an apprentice at Beyerbach’s (colour-manufacturer), in Frankfurt-a.-M., he was one day amusing himself in watching the behaviour of a small magnetic compass. This compass he found, on being placed near to the base of various iron columns in the warehouse, was attracted. Disturbed by the entrance of one of the principals, who imagined that Reis ought to employ his time more profitably, he withdrew to a stage where he could pursue his experiments unobserved. Much to his surprise, he now found that the pole attracted by the base was repulsed at the top of the columns, which observation led him to examine other pieces of iron on the premises. He next built up a column with all the weights in the warehouse, and having verified his previous observations, he communicated what he believed to be his first and great discovery either to Professor Böttger or to Dr. Oppel. Great was his disappointment to learn at this interview that he had unwittingly stumbled across a well-known physical fact: but his disappointment stimulated in him the desire to learn more of the marvellous laws and mysteries of nature. That Reis evoked a similar desire in those with whom he came in contact need not cause surprise, and thus it came about that Horkheimer, Küster, Schmidt, and myself, soon enjoyed the privilege of private instructions in physics, and of being permitted to witness his telephonic experiments amongst others. I was, however, very young, and am sorry that much that I then saw and heard has been forgotten, Reis insisted that his transmitter (which he called the ‘ear’) should be capable of performing the functions of that organ, and he never tired of drawing diagrams of the numerous curves of sounds to explain how necessary it was that the transmitter should follow these curves before perfect speaking could be attained, and which kind of curves the instrument so far could reproduce. Numerous experiments were made with transmitters, exaggerating or diminishing the various component parts of the ear. Wooden and metallic apparatus, rough and smooth, were constructed in order to find out what was essential, and what was not.
Fig. 41.
“One form of transmitter was at that time constructed which I miss amongst the various woodcuts you were good enough to send me, and one which Reis based great hopes upon. The instrument was very rough, however, consisting of a wooden bung of a beer-barrel (which I had hollowed out for an earlier telephone—it was not turned inside like others), and this was closed with a membrane. The favourite ‘Hämmerchen’ was replaced by a straight wire, fixed in the usual way with sealing-wax, and the apparatus stood within a sort of tripod, membrane downwards, the pin just touching the surface of a drop of mercury contained in a small cup forming one of the terminals of the circuit. The apparatus started off with splendid results, but may probably have been abandoned on account of its great uncertainty, thus sharing the fate of other of his earlier instruments. In my belief it is to these mechanical imperfections, due principally to the want of sufficient means at his command, that we must look to find the reason why Reis’s telephone did not come to an earlier fame. Thus Reis informed me that he intended to exhibit it once at some scientific meeting at Cassel, but notwithstanding a perfect rehearsal it was impossible to show the working to the audience; the failure was attributed by Reis to atmospheric influence (stretching of the diaphragm), and he felt much grieved at having lost his chance. To make matters worse, the early transmitters had no adjusting screws, and the contact was only regulated by a piece of bent wire, and the ‘hammer’ was fixed to the membrane. Philipp Schmidt should recollect what I state, as many experiments were made when only he, Reis, and myself were present, he being at one and I at the other end of the apparatus. The wire was stretched from Reis’s house, in the main road, through the yard to a hayloft, near the garden or field. We transmitted musical sounds (organ, &c.), singing popular songs (‘Wer will unter die Soldaten,’ ‘Ich hatt’ einen Kameraden,’ &c.) and speaking, or, more correctly, reading. We had a book, and were to find out what part of the page the reader was just transmitting. We frequently used a sort of ‘Exercier Reglement,’ a soldiers’ instruction book, or something of that sort. I have a distinct recollection of electromagnetic receivers being used, but not of their construction, except that the use of one of them was accompanied by a rattling and disturbing noise. The knitting-needle put in the f of a violin was, however, the more favoured receiver, but at this time, in Reis’s mind, all seemed to hinge on the electromagnet, as it had before, and, I dare say, did again afterwards on the transmitter. I left Friedrichsdorf in ’62, and rarely saw Reis after that, except a few times at Mechanicus Albert’s (who made some of his apparatus), and at Professor Böttger’s, to whom he introduced me. Reis attended Professor Böttger’s lectures at the Physikalischer Verein, when in Frankfort, prior to his settling down at Friedrichsdorf; but I do not know that any particularly intimate relation existed between them. Dr. Poppe, director of the Gewerbeschule (Trade School), now deceased, on whose advice he chiefly relied, was then one of his more intimate friends, Professor Oppel being occasionally consulted about more intricate mathematical problems. Of the ‘meteorological recorder’ invented by Reis I recollect but its existence, but nothing at all of a ‘fall-machine’ of his construction. The velocipede I only recollect, because he lent it to me for a masquerade. At his suggestion we altered it into a large musical-box, putting Herr Peter inside, who played on the clarinet when I turned a handle. Dr. Kellner states that its chief merit consisted in being able to go downhill, and that poor Reis came back (uphill) puffing away, dragging his velocipede behind him. Kellner no doubt could give valuable information on Reis’s theory of electricity, his conviction that there was only one kind of electricity, his acoustic researches, and those on radiation of electricity, his galvanoplastic experiments, &c., &c.
“In personal appearance Reis was not very refined, but he had a striking countenance and a very powerful look. Though occasionally very irritable, especially with dunces, he was always warm-hearted, and showed great kindness to those who cared to understand him. Reis’s views of the telephone may, of course, have changed after I knew him, and looking at his later instruments, one of which I possess, I cannot help thinking they did; at any rate, I do not see how, in these instruments, the current got interrupted at all, and the instruments must have acted like microphones, whether known or unknown to him. When listening to the instrument he frequently said to me, “You understand it is a ‘molekular Bewegung’ (molecular motion).
“I am sorry that, owing to the lapse of time, I am unable to throw more light on Reis’s original labours in a field of physical science which promised so much for the future; but insufficient as are my recollections, they may not be without public interest, and at any rate I am glad of this opportunity of offering my humble tribute of regard and affection to the memory of my old teacher and friend.
“Yours truly,
“Rudolph Messel.”