The second attempt was evidently made sometime in March. The casting itself was successful. Sand had been substituted for the zinc sheet. The cast was placed in the kiln, and when it was thought to be set the insulating sand was poured over it. After a time variously estimated at from 4 to 11 days, the cast was considered sufficiently annealed, and was examined.
When the sand was removed, the disc was found in fragments. There was also a large concavity in what would have been the face of the disc. The sand had been poured over it before the glass was sufficiently set. However, the disc had been destroyed by its iron mold. The mold had contracted against the disc, bending the bolt and deforming the hinges, and this tremendous pressure had shattered the glass. The next issue of the trade paper jubilantly noted the failures. They also included Dr. Peate in their derision. They said in effect that at least this experience would save the old preacher the waste of many years of time and effort.[32]
This slur on their most esteemed citizen brought the Greenville papers into the battle. The Budget had also made the mistake of implying that any number of Pittsburgh manufacturers were willing and able to make the disc. John Morrison, at that time editor of the Greenville Advance Argus, and source of much of our information regarding this controversy, immediately called the bluff of the trade paper, which was able to supply but one name, that of a George A. McBeth Company. This firm promptly declined without qualification. Later the name of the Phillips Semner Co. was given, and this firm guaranteed a perfect disc within 60 days for a “remunerative price,” but would not state what this price was.[33] Therefore Dr. Peate could not deal with the firm.
Although the hue and cry continued for a few more weeks, the battle was really over, for Howard was soon to cast his disc. He had replaced the iron bolts in his mold with bolts of red oak dipped in nitric acid and then charred. The purpose of this was to relieve the strain on the glass by having the wooden pegs break as the mold contracted.
The third cast was in the kiln and in process of being annealed when Howard read in the Budget an article that set forth the difficulties of successfully casting optical glass. This article was anonymous and was obviously the work of an expert; it is thought to have been written by John Brashear.[34] Although Howard was thoroughly discouraged by this article, the cast had already been made and no harm could be done now by allowing it to cool and be examined.
In May 1895 Howard, with the workmen, opened the kiln. The mold was loose, so the pegs had sheared as expected. When the sand was removed the disc was found to be whole. A close inspection revealed no obvious faults. The disc was gently carried to an inspection room and Dr. Peate was immediately sent for. He arrived, examined the disc for a moment, then said, “Give me a hammer.” Before anyone could move he seized a nearby hatchet and knocked off the sprue, or tail left as the pot was removed from the mold. The onlookers feared the lens would “explode,” as predicted by its detractors, but the only result was the removal of the tail, as Dr. Peate expected.[35]
The Budget was still saying it couldn’t be done. Commenting on a May 1, 1895, announcement of the removal of the disc from the kiln, the paper seized on the fact that the disc was still warm to predict that it would be shattered before Peate could examine it, and reiterated its low opinion of Standard Plate. By the time this issue was in the hands of its readers however, the disc had been inspected and approved by Peate.
Newspapers in Pittsburgh and elsewhere carried the news of the great American disc. The embarrassed Budget replied that it was not talking about the mere casting of the disc but the completion of the mirror. It feigned surprise that this was all that was to be done in Butler. Even as late as May 24, 1895, the Butler Democratic Herald was still defending its town. It concluded an editorial on the issue thus:
… we have a feeling he [The Budget] has set his foot in it when he goes to poke fun at the Standard about casting the biggest mold on earth, and the end of it may be a repetition of the old saw “he who laughs last laughs best.”
A week before this, however, the success of this casting had been made more or less official by an announcement to that effect in the May 17, 1895, issue of Science, a publication of the American Association for the Advancement of Science and probably the most highly regarded scientific paper of the time.