"Our principal electrical difficulty is the slowness with which we must manipulate in order to be intelligible; twenty words in sixteen minutes is now the rate. I am confident we can get more after awhile, but the Atlantic Telegraph has its own rate of talking and cannot be urged to speak faster, any more than any other orator, without danger of becoming unintelligible.
"Three o'clock P.M. We are in Valencia Harbor. We shall soon come to anchor. A pilot who has just come to show us our anchorage ground says: 'There are a power of people ashore.'"
"August 8. Yesterday, at half past six P.M., all being right, we commenced again paying out the heavy shore-end, of which we had about eight miles to be left on the rocky bottom of the coast, to bear the attrition of the waves and to prevent injury to the delicate nerve which it incloses in its iron mail, and which is the living principle of the whole work. A critical time was approaching, it was when the end of the massive cable should pass overboard at the point where it joins the main and smaller cable. I was in my berth, by order of the surgeon, lest my injured limb, which was somewhat inflamed by the excitement of the day and too much walking about, should become worse.
"Above my head the heavy rumbling of the great wheels, over which the cable was passing and was being regulated, every now and then giving a tremendous thump like the discharge of artillery, kept me from sleep, and I knew they were approaching the critical point. Presently it came. The machinery stopped, and soon amid the voices I heard the unwelcome intelligence—'The cable is broke.' Sure enough the smaller cable at this point had parted, but, owing to the prudent precautions of those superintending, the end of the great cable had been buoyed and the hawsers which had been attached secured it. The sea was moderate, the moonlight gave a clear sight of all, and in half an hour the joyous sound of 'All right' was heard, the machinery commenced a low and regular rumbling, like the purring of a great cat, which has continued from that moment (midnight) till the present moment uninterrupted.
"The coil on deck is most beautifully uncoiling at the rate of three nautical miles an hour. The day is magnificent, the land has almost disappeared and our companion ships are leisurely sailing with us at equal pace, and we are all, of course, in fine spirits. I sent you a telegraph dispatch this morning, thirty miles out, which you will duly receive with others that I shall send if all continues to go on without interruption. If you do receive any, preserve them with the greatest care, for they will be great curiosities."
"August 10. Thus far we have had most delightful weather, and everything goes on regularly and satisfactorily. You are aware we cannot stop night nor day in paying out. On Saturday we made our calculations that the first great coil, which is upon the main deck, would be completely paid out, and one of our critical movements, to wit, the change from this coil to the next, which is far forward, would be made by seven or eight o'clock yesterday morning (Sunday). So we were up and watching the last flake of the first coil gradually diminishing. Everything had been well prepared; the men were at their posts; it was an anxious moment lest a kink might occur. But, as the last round came up, the motion of the ship was slightly slackened, the men handled the slack cable handsomely, and in two minutes the change was made with perfect order, and the paying out from the second coil was as regularly commenced and at this moment continues, and at an increased rate to-day of five miles per hour.
"Last night, however, was another critical moment. On examining our chart of soundings we found the depth of the ocean gradually increasing up to about four hundred fathoms, and then the chart showed a sudden and great increase to seventeen hundred fathoms, and then a further increase to two thousand and fifty, nearly the greatest depth with which we should meet in the whole distance. We had, therefore, to watch the effect of this additional depth upon the straining of the cable. At two in the morning the effect showed itself in a greater strain and a more rapid tendency to run fast. We could check its speed, but it is a dangerous process. Too sudden a check would inevitably snap the cable. Too slack a rein would allow of its egress at such a wasting rate and at such a violent speed that we should lose too great a portion of the cable, and its future stopping within controllable limits be almost impossible. Hence our anxiety. All were on the alert; our expert engineers applied the brakes most judiciously, and at the moment I write—latitude 52° 28'—the cable is being laid at the depth of two miles in its ocean bed as regularly and with as much facility as it was in the depth of a few fathoms….
"Six P.M. We have just had a fearful alarm. 'Stop her! Stop her!' was reiterated from many voices on deck. On going up I perceived the cable had got out of its sheaves and was running out at great speed. All was confusion for a few moments. Mr. Canning, our friend, who was the engineer of the Newfoundland cable, showed great presence of mind, and to his coolness and skill, I think, is due the remedying of the evil. By rope stoppers the cable was at length brought to a standstill, and it strained most ominously, perspiring at every part great tar drops. But it held together long enough to put the cable on the sheaves again."
"Tuesday, August 11. Abruptly indeed am I stopped in my letter. This morning at 3.45 the cable parted, and we shall soon be on our way back to England."
Thus ended the first attempt to unite the Old World with the New by means of an electric nerve. Authorities differ as to who was responsible for the disaster, but the cause was proved to be what Morse had foreseen when he wrote: "Too sudden a check would inevitably snap the cable."