The Story of the Atlantic Telegraph

by Henry M. Field

The same restoration of order was seen in the business of importations, which had been hitherto almost a matter of guess-work. A merchant who wished to buy silks in Lyons, sent out his orders months in advance, and of course somewhat at random, not knowing how the market might turn, so that when the costly fabrics arrived, he might find that he had ordered too many or too few. A China merchant sent his ship round the world for a cargo of tea, which returned after a year's absence, bringing not enough to supply the public demand, leaving him in vexation at the thought of what he might have made, "if he had known," or, what was still worse, bringing twice too much, in which case the unsold half remained on his hands. This was a risk against which he had to be insured, as much as against fire or shipwreck. And the only insurance he could have was to take reprisals by an increased charge on his unfortunate customers.

This double risk was now greatly reduced, if not entirely removed. The merchant need no longer send out orders a year beforehand, nor order a whole ship-load of tea when he needed only a hundred chests, since he could telegraph to his agent for what he wanted and no more. With this opportunity for getting the latest intelligence, the element of uncertainty was eliminated, and the importer no longer did business at a venture. Buying from time to time, so as to take advantage of low markets, he was able to buy cheaper, and of course to sell cheaper. It would be a curious study to trace the effect of the cable upon the prices of all foreign goods. A New York merchant, who has been himself an importer for forty years, tells me that the saving to the American people cannot be less than many millions every year.

But the slender cord beneath the sea had finer uses than to be a reporter of markets, giving quotations of prices to counting rooms and banking houses; it was a link between hearts and homes on opposite sides of the ocean, bearing messages of life and death, of joy and sorrow, of hopes and fears. One of its happiest uses was the relief of anxiety. A ship sailed for England with hundreds of passengers, but did not arrive at her destination on the appointed day. Instantly a thousand hearts were tortured with fear, lest their loved ones had gone to the bottom of the sea, when the cable reported that the delay was due simply to an accident to her machinery, that would keep her back for a day or two, but that the good ship was safe with all on board. What arithmetic can compute the value of a single message that relieves so much anguish? Thus the submarine telegraph stretched out its long arms under the sea, to lay a friendly hand on two peoples, and give assurance to both.

Such a triumph of commercial enterprise was enough to satisfy the pride and ambition of any man; but it was not in Mr. Field's nature to rest content with any success, however great, and he was always reaching out for some new undertaking to give scope to his restless activity. Such an opportunity he found in giving rapid transit to New York, a city which, though it has one of the finest harbors in the world, with approaches from the sea that afford every possible advantage for commerce, is not so favorably situated landward, as it is built on a long and narrow island, between two broad rivers, which confine it on either side, so that it is stretched out to such distances that it is no easy matter to pass from one end to the other. From the Battery to the Harlem river is ten miles, so that working men, who lived so far away, were an hour or more in getting from their homes to their place of work, and as long in getting back again, a large inroad upon their hours of rest or domestic comfort. The only means of transportation was by street cars, which moved slowly, and in winter, whenever the streets were blocked with snow, were crowded to suffocation, and dragged at a snail's pace to the upper end of the island.

This was the great barrier to the city's growth, and must be removed if it was not to be stunted and dwarfed by these limitations. To furnish some relief, an elevated railroad, built on stilts, had been attempted on a small scale, but soon broke down, when Mr. Field bought the control of the whole concern, and took it in his own strong arms. It was no easy matter to galvanize it into life, for though it had a charter, it was still obstructed in the legislature, and in the courts, so that it was a long time before he could get full possession. But once master of the situation, he undertook the work on a grand scale, and pushed it with such vigor that in less than two years the road was in operation. It has since been extended with the public demand, until now (in 1892) there are thirty-six miles of road, over which the trains sweep incessantly from the bay to the river, and from the river to the bay.

The structures are not indeed the most graceful in the world, as they bestride the long avenues of the city. But these tall iron pillars, that line our streets for miles, are the long legs of civilization, and have a somewhat imposing effect as they stretch away into the distance, with the fire-drawn cars flying swiftly over them. Dean Stanley glorified them by a historical parallel which could occur only to one full of the wonders of ancient times, that started into life under the touch of his imagination. Going with him one day on an excursion, he stepped briskly (for his frame was so light as to offer little impediment to motion), and as he mounted the long stairway, and stood on the platform above the crowded street below, he exclaimed, "This is Babylonian! Four chariots driving abreast on the walls of the city!"

But Babylonian or American, the success was enormous. As soon as the public became familiar with these elevated roads, and felt that they were safe as well as swift, the people swarmed upon them, in numbers constantly increasing, till now they carry over seven hundred thousand passengers a day! On the day of the Columbus celebration (October 12th) it was a million and seventy-five thousand! Indeed, if we are not staggered by numbers, we may sum up the whole in the amazing statement demonstrated by figures, that since these roads were opened, they have carried over eighteen hundred millions of passengers, more than the whole population of the globe!

Nor should it be forgotten that, not only is the facility they afford the greatest, but the fares the lowest, for, thanks to Mr. Field, they were reduced years ago to five cents at all hours and for the longest distance, the ten miles from the Battery to the Harlem river.

The effect was immediate in the appreciation of real estate in the city, the assessed value of which has already advanced by the sum of five hundred millions of dollars! The increased taxation is enough to pay for all the cost, while as a relief to the congested parts of the city, and as furnishing a means for that easy circulation, which is as necessary to a great city as a free circulation of the blood is to the human body, it is not too much to say that the construction of the elevated railroads is the greatest material benefit that has ever been conferred on the city of New York.

But busy as Mr. Field was through all these years, much of his life was spent abroad. He had interests on both sides of the Atlantic, but stronger than his interests were his friendships to attract him across the sea. He had come to feel as much at home in England as in his own country: and his visits were so frequent that his sudden appearances and disappearances were a subject of amused comment to his English friends. When Dean Stanley was in America, a reception was given to him at the Century Club, where in a very happy address, he referred to the ties between the two countries, among which was "the wonderful cable, on which it is popularly believed in England, that my friend and host, Mr. Cyrus Field, passes his mysterious existence, appearing and reappearing at one and the same moment in London and in New York!"