Part 12

_Aug. 6th, Sunday._--It was very thick all through the night--fog, rain, drizzle alternately, and all together. When morning broke, the Terrible was visible for a moment in a lift of the veil of grey vapour which hung down from the sky on the face of the waters. The buoy was of course quite lost to view, nor did we see it all day. At 10·45 a.m. Captain Anderson read prayers in the saloon. At noon it was quite hopeless to form a conjecture respecting the position of the sun or of the horizon, but Captain Moriarty and Captain Anderson were ready to pounce upon either, and as the least gleam of light came forth, sextants in hand, like the figures which indicate fine weather in the German hygrometers. The sea was calm, rolling in lazy folds under the ship, which scarcely condescended to notice them. She is a wonder! In default of anything else, it was something to lie on a sofa in the ladies’ saloon, and try to think you really were on the bosom of the Atlantic,--not a bulkhead creaking, not a lamp moving, not a glass jingling. Under the influence of an unknown current, the Great Eastern was drifting steadily against the wind. When the circumstance was noticed, it could only be referred to the “Gulf Stream,” which is held answerable for a good many things all over the world. At 4 p.m. the buoy was supposed to be 15 miles N.W. ½ N. of us, the wind being E.S.E., but it was only out of many calculations Captain Moriarty and Captain Anderson created a hypothetical position. There had been no good observation for three days, and until we could determine the ship’s position exactly, and get a good wind to drift down on the Cable, it would be quite useless to put down the grapnel.

The buoy was supposed to be some 12 miles distant from the end of the Cable, and not far from the slack made by the Great Eastern. If we got this slack, the Cable would come up more easily on the grapnel. Of course, if the buoy had been ready when the Cable broke, it would have been cast loose at the spot where the wire rope and grapnel sank. If the Cable could be caught, it was proposed either to place a breaking strain upon it, so as to get a loose end and a portion of slack, and then to grapple for it a second time within a mile or so of the end, or to try and take it inboard without breaking. Some suggested that the Great Eastern should steam at once to Trinity Bay, where the fleet was lying, and ask the admiral for a couple of men-of-war to help us in grappling; but those acquainted with our naval resources declared that it would be useless, as the ships would have no tackle aboard fit for the work, and could not get it even at Halifax. Others recommended an immediate return to England for a similar purpose, to get a complete outfit for grappling before the season was advanced, and to return to the end of the Cable, or to a spot 100 miles east of it, where the water is not so deep. What was positive was, that more than 1,100 miles of the most perfect Cable ever laid, as regards electrical conditions, was now lying three-quarters of the way across from Valentia to Newfoundland.

_Monday, Aug. 7th._--During the night it was raining, fogging, drizzling, clouding over and under, doing anything but blowing, and of course as we drifted hither and thither,--the largest float that currents and waves ever toyed with,--we had no notion of any particular value of our whereabouts. But at 4 a.m. a glimpse was caught of the Terrible lying-to about 6 miles distant, and we steered gently towards her and found that she was keeping watch over the buoy, which was floating apparently 2 miles away from her. Our course was W.N.W. till we came nearly abreast of the buoy shortly before 9 a.m., when it was altered to N.W. The wind was light and from the northward, and the Great Eastern steamed quietly onwards that she might heave over the grapnel and drift down on the line of the Cable when the fog cleared and the wind favoured.

The feat of seamanship which was accomplished, and the work so nearly consummated, was so marvellous as to render its abrupt and profitless termination all the more bitter. The remarkable difficulty of such a task as Staff-Commander Moriarty and Captain Anderson executed cannot be understood without some sort of appreciation of the obstacles before them. The Atlantic Cable, as we sadly remember, dropped into the unknown abyss on Aug. 2. We had no soundings. In the night the Great Eastern drifted and steamed 25 miles from the end of the Cable--then bore away with a grapnel overboard, and 2,500 fathoms of wire rope attached, and steered so as to come across the course of the Cable at the bottom. On the morning of Aug. 3rd, the increasing strain on the line which towed the grapnel gave rise to hope at first, and finally to the certainty, that the ship had caught the Cable. At 3·20 o’clock, p.m., Greenwich time, when about 900 fathoms of grapnel line had been hauled in, the head of a swivel pin broke, and 1,400 fathoms of line, with grapnels and Atlantic Cable, went down to the bottom. Then the Great Eastern drifted again in a fog whilst preparing for another trial to drag the Cable up from the sea, and on 4th August, with an apparatus devised on board, got doubtful soundings, from which it was estimated that the water was about 2½ miles deep. A buoy placed on a raft, which sunk so deep that only a small flagstaff and black bulb were visible, was let go, with a mushroom anchor and 2½ miles of Cable attached to it, into this profound; but as it was not ready when the Cable broke, the buoy was slipped over at the distance of some miles from the place where the fatal fracture took place, in the hope and belief that the anchor would come up somewhere near the slack caused by the picking-up operations. Still in fog, which shut the Terrible out of sight, the Great Eastern prepared for another attempt. Next day (August 5), with the assistance of the Terrible, she came upon the buoy, and having steamed away to a favourable position, so as to come down on the course of the Cable again, remained drifting and steaming gently, on the look-out for the buoy, which it was very difficult to discover owing to the fog and to the current and winds acting on the ship. The weather did not permit any observations for longitude to be made during the whole of this period. On Aug. 7th we passed the buoy and steered N.W., and at 11·10 a.m., ship’s time, 1·47 p.m., Greenwich time, another grapnel, with 2,500 fathoms of wire rope, was thrown over, and the Great Eastern, with a favourable wind, was let drift down on the course of the Cable, about half way between the buoy and the broken end. At 12·5 ship’s time, the grapnel touched the bottom in 2,500 fathoms water, having sunk, owing to improved apparatus, in half the time consumed in the first operation. In six hours afterwards, the eyes which were watching every motion of the ship so anxiously, perceived the slightest possible indication that the grapnel was holding on at the bottom, and that the ship’s head was coming up towards the northward. It is not possible to describe the joyous excitement which diffused itself over the Great Eastern as, with slowly-increasing certitude, she yielded to the strain from the grapnel and its prize, and in an hour and a-half canted her head from E. by S. ½ S., to E. ¾ North. The screw was used to bring up her bow to the strain, and the machinery of the picking-up apparatus, much improved and strengthened, was set in motion to draw in the grapnel by means of the capstan and its steam power. The strain shown by the indicator increased from 48 cwt. to 66 cwt. in a short time; but the engines did their work steadily till 8·10, when one of the wheels was broken by a jerk, which caused a slight delay. The grapnel-rope was, however, hauled in by the capstan at a uniform rate of 100 fathoms in 40 minutes; but the strain went on gradually increasing till it reached 70 cwt. to 75 cwt. At 11·30 p.m., ship’s time, or 2·5 a.m., Greenwich, 300 fathoms were aboard, and at midnight all those who were not engaged on duty connected with the operation retired to rest, thankful and encouraged. In the words of our signal to the Terrible, all was going on “hopefully.” Throughout our slumbers the clank of the machinery, the shrill whistles to go on ahead, or turn astern, sounded till morning came, and when one by one the citizens of our little world turned up on deck, each felt, as he saw the wheels revolving and the wire rope uncoiling from the drums, that he was assisting at an attempt of singular audacity and success. A moonlight of great brightness, a night of quiet loveliness had favoured the enterprise, and the links of rope had come in one after another at a speed which furnished grounds for hope that if the end of the day witnessed similar progress, the Cable would be at the surface before nightfall.

_August 8th._--This morning, about 7·30, one mile--one thousand fathoms--had been recovered, and was coiled on deck. The Cable, however, put out a little more vigour in its resistance, and the strain went up to 80 cwt., having touched 90 cwt. once or twice previously. No matter what happened, the perseverance of the engineers and seamen had been so far rewarded by a very extraordinary result. They had caught up a thin Cable from a depth of 2,500 fathoms, and had hauled it up through a mile of water. They were hauling at it still, and all might be recovered. But it was not so to be. Our speculations were summarily disposed of--our hopes sent to rest in the Atlantic. Shortly before 8 o’clock, an iron shackle and swivel at the end of a length of wire rope came over the bow, passed over the drums, and had been wound three times round the capstan, when the head of the swivel bolt “drew,” exactly as the swivel before it had done, and the rope, parting at once, flew round the capstan, over the drums, through the stops, with the irresistible force on it of a strain, indicated at the time or a little previously, of 90 cwt. It is wonderful no one was hurt. The end of the rope flourished its iron fist in the air, and struck out with it right and left, as though it were animated by a desire to destroy those who might arrest its progress. It passed through the line of cablemen with an impatient sweep, dashed at one man’s head, was only balked by his sudden stoop, and menacing from side to side the men at the bow, who fortunately were few in number, and were warned of the danger of their position, splashed overboard. All had been done that the means at the disposal of engineers and officers allowed. The machinery had been altered, improved, tested--every shackle and swivel had been separately examined, and several which looked faulty had been knocked off and replaced, but in every instance the metal was found to be of superior quality. It was 7·43 a.m., ship’s time, exactly, when the rope parted. The sad news was signalled to the Terrible, which had been following our progress anxiously and hopefully during the night. Her flags in return soon said, “Very sorry,” and she steamed towards the Great Eastern immediately. Mr. Canning and Mr. Gooch, and others, consulted what was best to be done, and meantime the buoy and raft which had been prepared in anticipation of such a catastrophe as had occurred, were lowered over the bows with a mooring rope of 2,500 fathoms long, attached to a broken spur-wheel. The buoy was surmounted by a rod with a black ball at the top over a flag red, white, and red, in three alternate horizontal stripes, and on it were the words and letters:--“Telegraph, No. 3.” It floated rather low on a strong raft of timber, with corks lashed at the corners, and by observation and reckoning it was lowered in Lat. 51° 25´ 30´´, Long. 38° 56´. The old buoy at the time it was slipped bore S.E. by E. 13 miles from the Great Eastern. As there were still nearly 1,900 fathoms of wire rope on board, and some 500 fathoms of Manilla hawser, Mr. Canning resolved to make a third and last attempt ere he returned to Sheerness. Captain Anderson warned Mr. Canning that from the indications of the weather, it was not likely he could renew his search for two or three days, but that was of the less consequence, inasmuch as it needed nearly that time for Mr. Canning’s men to secure the shackles and prepare the apparatus for the third trial.

At 9·40 a.m., just as the buoy had gone over, a boat came alongside from the Terrible, and Mr. Prowse, the First Lieutenant, boarded us to know what we were going to do, to compare latitude and longitude, and to report to Captain Napier the decision arrived at by the gentlemen connected with the management of the Expedition. The Great Eastern had still about 3,500 tons of coal remaining, and the Terrible could wait three days more, and still keep coal enough to enable her to reach St. John’s. At 11·30 the Great Eastern stood down to the second buoy, for the purpose of fixing its exact locality by observation. Soon afterwards the weather grew threatening, and at 2 p.m. we were obliged to put her head to the sea, which gradually increased till the Great Eastern began for the first time to give signs and tokens that she was not a fixture. The Terrible stood on ahead on our port side, and for some time we kept the buoy equi-distant between us. At night, the wind increased to half a gale, and it was agreed on all sides that though the Great Eastern could have paid out the Cable with the utmost ease, she could not have picked up, and certainly could not have kept the grapnel line and Cable under her bows in such weather. But the steadiness of the vessel was the constant theme of praise. During the night she just kept her head to the sea. The Terrible, which got on our port and then on our starboard bow, signalled to us not to come too close, and before midnight her lights were invisible on our port quarter--one funnel down.

_Aug. 9th._--Our course was W.N.W. during the night; weather thick and rainy--strong southerly wind; sea running moderately high. At 6 a.m., having run by reckoning 35 miles from the buoy, our course was altered to E.S.E., so as to bring us back to it. The state of the weather delayed the artificers in their work. It rained heavily, the deck was by no means a horizontal plane, and it was doubtful if Mr. Canning and Mr. Clifford, using all possible diligence, could get tackle and machinery in order before the following forenoon, so that it was not necessary to make any great speed. The reputation of the ship was enhanced in the eyes and feelings of her passengers by the manner in which she had behaved in the undoubtedly high breeze and heavy sea. The former was admitted by sailors to be a “gale,” though they seemed to think the force of the wind was affected by the addition of the prefix “summer,” as if it mattered much at what time of the year a gale blows. The latter, when we turned tail and went before it, soon developed a latent tendency in the Great Eastern to obey the rules governing bodies floating on liquids under the action of summer gales. She rolled with a gravity and grandeur becoming so large a ship once in every 11 or 12 seconds; but on descending from the high decks to the saloon, one found no difficulty in walking along from end to end of it without gratuitous balancings or unpremeditated halts and progresses. It was a grey, gloomy, cloudy sea and sky--not a sail or a bird visible. In the forenoon the Terrible came in sight, lying-to with her topsail set, and it was hoped she was somewhere near the buoy. At noon our position was ascertained by observation to be Lat. 51° 29´ 30´, Long. 39° 6´ 0´´. Great Eastern, as soon as she was near enough, asked the Terrible, “Do you see the buoy?” After a time, the answer flew out, “No.” Then she added that she was “waiting for her position,” and that she “believes the buoy to be S.S.E.” of us. Our course was altered S. by E. ½ E, and the look-out men in the top swept the sea on all sides. The Terrible also started on the search. At 3·20 p.m. the two ships were within signalling distance again--sea decreasing, wind falling fast. The Terrible asked, “Did you see buoy?” which was answered in negative, and then inquired if the Great Eastern was going to grapple again, which was replied to in the affirmative--Captain Anderson busy in one cabin and Staff-Commander Moriarty busy in another, working diagrams and calculations, and coming nearer and nearer to the little speck which fancies it is hidden in the ocean: with very good reason, too, for the search after such an object on such a field as the Atlantic, ruffled by a gale of wind, might well be esteemed of very doubtful success. But the merchant captain and the naval staff-commander were not men to be beaten, and in keen friendly competition ran a race with pencils and charts to see who could determine the ship’s position with the greatest accuracy, being rarely a mile apart from each other in the result. The only dubious point related to the buoy itself, for it might have drifted in the gale, it might have gone down at its moorings, or the Cable might have parted. There were strong currents, as well as winds and waves. The moment the weather moderated in the forenoon, the whole body of smiths and carpenters, and workers in iron, metal, and wood, were set to work at the alterations in the machinery for letting out the grapnel and taking it in again. A little army of skilled mechanics were exercising on deck; workshops and forges were established, and some of the many chimneys which rise above the bulwarks of the Great Eastern, and put one in mind of the roofs of the streets seen from the railway approaches to London, began to smoke. The smiths forged new pins for the swivels, and made new shackles and swivels; the carpenters made casings for capstan; ropemakers examined and secured the lengths of wire rope, and a new hawser was bent on to make up for the deficiency of buoy rope. At last, the much-sought-for object was discovered--the buoy was visible some 2 miles distant. The Great Eastern made haste to announce the news to the Terrible, and just as her flags were going aloft, a fluttering of bunting was visible in the rigging of the Terrible, and the signalman read her brief statement that the buoy was where we saw it was, thus proving that both vessels dropped on it at the same time. The finding of the little black point on the face of the Atlantic was a feat of navigation which gave great satisfaction to the worthy performers and the spectators. A little before 5 o’clock the Great Eastern was abreast of the buoy. The Terrible came up on the other side of it, and the Great Eastern and the man-of-war lay-to watching the tiny black ball, which bobbed up and down on the Atlantic swell, intending to stay by it as closely as possible till morning. By dint of energetic exertion, Mr. Canning hoped to have his grapnel and tackle quite ready the moment the ship was in position on the morrow. It was a sight to behold the deck at night--bare-armed Vulcans wielding the sledge--Brontes, Steropes, and Pyracmon at bellows, forge, and anvil--fires blazing--hailing sparks flashing along the decks--incandescent masses of iron growing into shape under the fierce blows--amateurs and artists admiring--the sea keeping watch and ward outside, and the hum of voices from its myriad of sentry waves rising above the clank of hammers which were closing the rivets up of the mail in which we were to do battle with old ocean for the captive he holds in his dismal dungeons below. Will he yield up his prisoner?

_Aug. 10th._ A more lovely morning could not be desired--sea, wind, position--all were auspicious for the renewed attempt, which must also be the last if our tackle break. A light breeze from the west succeeded to the gale, and a strong current setting to the eastward prevailed over it, and carried the Great Eastern nearly 7 miles dead against the wind from 9 p.m. last night till 4 a.m. this morning, thus taking her away from the buoy. The swell subsided, and such wind as there was favoured the plan to drift across the course of the Cable about a mile to westward of the place where the last grapnel was lost. Without much trouble the Great Eastern, having come upon the first buoy, caught the second buoy, and both were in sight at the same moment. Authorities differed concerning their distance. One maintained they were 7½ miles, the other that they were 10 miles apart. At 10·30, Greenwich time, when we were between 1½ and 1¾ mile distant from the course of the Cable, the buoy bearing S.S.E., the grapnel was thrown over, and 2,460 fathoms of wire rope and hawser were paid out in 48 minutes.

As there was a current still setting against the easterly wind, which had increased in strength, Captain Anderson at first got all fore-and-aft canvas on the ship, to which were added afterwards her fore and maintopsails; her course was set N.W. by N., but she made little headway, and drifted to S.W. At 11·10 a.m., ship’s time, an increased strain on the grapnel line was shown by the dynamometer, and at the same time the head of the Great Eastern began to turn slowly northwards from her true course.

The square-sails were at once taken in. Great animation prevailed at the prospect of a third grapple with the Cable. But in a few moments the hope proved delusive, and the ship continued to drift to S. and W., the buoy bearing S.E. The bow swept round, varying from W. and by N. to N. W. and by N. At noon the Great Eastern, if all reckonings were right, was but half a mile from the Cable, and the officers hoped she would come across it about half a mile west of the spot where she last hooked it. But at 3·30 p.m. the last hope vanished. The ship must by that time have long passed the course of the Cable. Captain Anderson had an idea that we grappled it for a moment soon after noon, when the ship’s head came 3 points to the N., and the strain increased for a moment to 60 cwt. The buoy was now 2½ to 3 miles E.--ship’s head being W.N.W. All that could be done was to take up grapnel, and make another cast for the Cable. The wind increased from eastward. At 4·15 p.m. ship’s head was set N. by E. by screw, in order to enable the grapnel line to be taken in, and the capstan was set to haul up the grapnel. The wire rope came over the bows unstranded, and in very bad condition. Much controversy arose respecting the cause of this mischief. Some, the practical men, maintaining it was because there were not swivels enough on it; others, the theoretical men, demonstrating that the swivels had nothing to do with the torsion or detorsion; and both arguing as keenly with respect to what was happening 2 miles below them in the sea as if they were on the spot. The process of pulling up such a length of wire is tedious, and although no one had expressed much confidence in the experiment, every one was chagrined at the aspect of the tortured wire as it came curling and twisting inboard from its abortive mission. At midnight 1000 fathoms had been hauled in.