American Inventions and Inventors
William A. (William Augustus) Mowry and Arthur May Mowry
[Illustration]
_America's Great Men and Their Deeds._
American Inventions and Inventors
By
William A. Mowry, A.M., Ph.D. _and_ Arthur May Mowry, A.M.
Authors of "_First Steps in the History of our Country_," and "_A History of the United States, for Schools_."
[Illustration]
Silver, Burdett and Company
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For The Study Of American History
_First Steps In The History Of Our Country._
By WILLIAM A. MOWRY, A.M., PH.D., and ARTHUR MAY MOWRY, A.M. Pp. 320, profusely illustrated. The narrative of our country as told in the stories of 39 great Americans. Introductory price, 60 cents.
_A HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES, for Schools._
By WILLIAM A. MOWRY, A.M., PH.D., and ARTHUR MAY MOWRY, A.M. Pp. 466, highly illustrated. Accurate in statement, clear and graphic in style, patriotic and unpartisan in spirit. Introductory price, $1.00.
_Historical Geography Of The United States._
By TOWNSEND MACCOUN, A.M. Pp. 48, 43 colored maps with text. Introductory price, 90 cents.
_Historical Charts Of The United States._
By TOWNSEND MACCOUN, A.M. 20 charts, 38x40 inches, containing 26 progressive maps, in high colors, for school and lecture-room use. Introductory price, with supporter, $15.00.
Both the "Historical Geography" and the "Historical Charts" portray the appearance of the map of our country after each of its changes until the present.
_Copyright, 1900_
By Silver, Burdett And Company
Preface.
A school history should set forth such facts, and in such an order, as to show the progress of civilization. The great lessons of history are found in that line of events in the past which exhibits the progress of mankind--the uplift of humanity. The record of no other country can present a more startling array of forward movements and upward tendencies than that of our own land, and in no one direction does this upward movement appear quite so clearly as in the line of inventions.
Man's efforts are, first, to overcome nature. Food, shelter, and clothing are his primary wants. After these are supplied, he rises to higher realms of thought and action. Then he nourishes his intellect, exercises his sensibilities, and provides nutriment for his soul, that it, also, may grow. In this book the above logical order is followed.
It is painfully evident that many schoolchildren dislike the study of history. The authors of this book believe that this need not be. It is clear that the study should be undertaken at an earlier age than is usually the case in our public schools. It is not necessary, and oftentimes not desirable, that the books of history should be studied as text-books. Frequently they should be used as reading books. Such use is more likely to develop in the minds of the younger children a love for history.
This book, while adapted to older persons, has been prepared with special reference to the needs and capacities of children from ten to twelve years of age. It is commended to teachers and parents with full confidence that they will find it useful, and that the children will be both interested and profited by its perusal.
Contents.
Heat.
Chapter Page
I. Fire, 11
II. Indian Homes, 17
III. Colonial Homes, 24
IV. Chimneys, 31
V. Fuel, 37
VI. Coal, 44
VII. Matches, 51
Light.
I. Torches, 61
II. Candles, 67
III. Whale Oil, 72
IV. Kerosene, 77
V. Illuminating Gas, 81
VI. Electric Lighting, 85
VII. Lighthouses, 90
Food.
I. Uncultivated Foods, 99
II. Cultivated Foods, 104
III. Implements For Planting, 111
IV. Implements For Harvesting, 117
V. Soil, 124
VI. A Modern Dinner, 131
Clothing.
I. Colonial Conditions, 143
II. The Cotton Gin, 148
III. Cotton, 153
IV. Wool, 158
V. Leather, 164
VI. Needles, 172
VII. The Steam Engine, 178
Travel.
I. By Land, 187
II. By Water, 194
III. Stagecoaches, 200
IV. Steamboats, 207
V. Canals, 215
VI. Railroads, 223
VII. Modern Water Travel, 229
VIII. Modern Land Travel, 235
Letters.
I. Language, 247
II. The Printing Press, 252
III. The Postal System, 258
IV. Signaling, 265
V. The Telegraph, 270
VI. The Atlantic Cable, 278
VII. The Telephone, 286
VIII. Conclusion, 292
List Of Illustrations.
Frontispiece
Page
Count Rumford 9
A New England Kitchen One Hundred Years Ago 10
A Train Leaving the Station 11
A Vestal Virgin 14
Iroquois Long House 20
Indian Method of Broiling 22
Plying the Axe 25
A Colonial Fireplace 27
Hauling in a Backlog 29
Cooking in a Colonial Kitchen 30
A Franklin Stove 34
In a Coal Mine 42
Blacksmith at His Forge 48
Thomas Carrying Fire 52
Tinder Box, Flint, and Matches 53
Thomas A. Edison 59
Minot Ledge Light, Massachusetts Bay 60
Indians Traveling at Night 62
Ancient Lamps 65
Franklin Making Candles 69
Reading by Candlelight 70
Whale Fishing 73
Oil Wells 79
A Gasometer 83
Edison's Heroic Act 86
Grace Darling 94
Cyrus H. McCormick 97
Cutting Sugar Cane in the Hawaiian Islands 98
Indians Hunting Game 102
The Corn Dance 104
Captain John Smith 106
An Ancient Plow 109
Mowing with Scythes 118
A Reaper and Binder 120
The McCormick Reaper 121
Threshing with Flail 123
Colonists in a Shallop 124
An Irrigating Trench 128
A Rice Field 129
A Dinner Party 131
Loading Fish at Gloucester 134
A Cattle Train 136
Drying Coffee in Java 139
Eli Whitney 141
A Quilting Bee in the Olden Time 142
Tailor and Cobbler 145
Flax Wheel 146
An Old-Fashioned Loom 147
A Cotton Field 149
A Cotton Pod 150
The Cotton Gin 151
President Jackson and Mr. Slater 156
The Interior of a Modern Cotton Mill 157
Sheep-Shearing 162
Dr. Whitman Starting on His Journey 168
Sewing by Hand 173
An Old Windmill 178
A Corliss Engine 181
Robert Fulton 185
An Ocean Steamer 186
A Man and His Wife Traveling on Horseback 191
The Bay-Path 193
Pilgrim Exiles 195
A Birch-Bark Canoe 197
Old-Style Calashes 202
An Old-Fashioned Stagecoach 204
Munroe Tavern, Lexington, Mass. 205
Fitch's Steamboat 209
Collision of the _Clermont_ and the Sloop 217
The Erie Canal 221
Old-Style Railroad Train 227
A River Tunnel 234
A Pullman Sleeper 237
Brooklyn Bridge 239
The Boston Subway 242
Electric Car, New York City 243
Samuel F. B. Morse 245
Modern Printing Presses 246
Ancient Implements of Writing 249
An Ancient Scribe 251
A Franklin Press 255
Postage Stamps 261
Assorting Mail on the Train 262
Signaling by Beacon Fires 266
Electric Wires 270
Morse Hears of His Success 274
Laying an Ocean Cable 282
The _Great Eastern_ 283
A Telephone 287
Alexander Bell Using a Long-Distance Telephone 288
[Illustration: COUNT RUMFORD.]
[Illustration: A NEW ENGLAND KITCHEN ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO.]
American Inventions And Inventors.
Section I.--Heat
Chapter I.
Fire.
"All aboard!" cries the conductor, and slowly the long train draws out of the San Francisco station on its way to Chicago and the Atlantic coast. Three sleepers, two chair coaches, passenger, baggage, and mail cars, loaded with travelers, trunks, and pouches of letters and papers; we are familiar with the sight of these heavy cars and the puffing engine which draws them. But what makes the train move? What power is great enough to do this? It is the power of steam, and steam is made from water by means of fire.
[Illustration: A TRAIN LEAVING THE STATION.]
Now the long journey across the continent is over, and we are standing on the dock in New York City. Here we see the steamboat _Puritan_, thronged with passengers, ready to steam away from the wharf on its regular night trip to Fall River. For hours, perhaps, we have been watching the longshoremen as they have rushed back and forth, loading the great vessel with freight for New England. A few minutes later, as we see the majestic steamer, hundreds of feet long--larger than most city business buildings--slowly, but gracefully moving away from the dock, we say to ourselves, "Can it be that steam, caused by fire, has power enough to make the steamboat move through the water like this?"
While we watch the steamer glide around Castle Garden into East River, evening begins to come on; we must hasten uptown. As we pass along Broadway, lights flash out in the darkness and our thoughts are again turned to fire and steam. We have heard that the source of the electric light is in the dynamo, and that steam power is used to turn that great machine. The enormous engine, the mammoth boat, the brilliant light--all need the power of steam, and nothing but fire will produce this steam. What, then, is fire? and is its only use that of changing quiet, liquid water into powerful steam? Let us see.
Did you notice that machine shop which we passed when we were in Cleveland a few days ago? Did you see those furnaces with the huge volumes of flame bursting out of the open doors? You know that great heat is necessary to make tools and other implements of iron, and all the instruments of everyday life that are formed out of metals. Our pens and needles, our hoes and rakes, our horseshoes, our stoves and furnaces, our registers and the iron of our desks--all depend upon heat for their production. Fire can do much for us. To change water into steam is but one of its powers. Fire and heat are behind most of the operations of modern life.
As we open the door of the house we are met by a current of warm air rushing out into the chilly evening. It is the last of October, and in the middle of the day windows and doors have been left wide open to let in all the light and warmth of the bright sunshine. But it is evening now, and the sun has long since sunk below the horizon; it no longer gives us any of its heat. All night the air will grow colder and colder, and were we unprotected by clothing we should suffer from the chill atmosphere. Even coverings are not sufficient to keep the heat of our bodies from passing off into the air, just as the warm air rushed out through the open hall door. It has been found necessary to warm the air in our houses so that the bodily heat, which we need to sustain life, may not so easily be lost. The heat which the sun furnishes us is called natural heat; that which is produced by the skill of man is called artificial heat.
This artificial heat is used for a fourth purpose also. As we have seen, it makes steam for the locomotive, the steamboat, and other engines; it is necessary in the manufacture of tools and various utensils out of iron and other metals; and it warms our houses and schools, our offices and stores. It is also used everywhere and by everybody in cooking. Had we no fires or artificial heat of some sort we should have to eat our meat and fish raw; we could only mix our meal and flour with cold water, which would not be palatable to most of us; our vegetables, uncooked, would fail to satisfy us; and many of us would find ourselves limited to fruits and nuts, which would be hardly sufficient to keep us in good health, to say the least.
Have you ever thought that men or human beings are very much like other animals? Have you ever tried to find out the important differences between man and what are called the lower animals? One of these differences comes right in the line of our present thought. Dogs are fond of meat, and so are most people; but dogs do not need to have their meat cooked as we do. Horses whinny for their oats at night and morning; but they would not care for our favorite breakfast dish of cooked oatmeal. Bears are partly protected from the cold by their thick, shaggy coverings of fur; but even in very cold regions they have no warm fire around which to gather. Man is the "only fire-making animal," and to this fact he owes much of his power.
If we read the history of the world, and especially the story of the earlier life of the different nations and peoples, we shall find that fire was considered by them all to be one of the greatest blessings belonging to man. They thought that the gods whom they worshipped also treasured fire. The Romans offered sacrifices to Vesta, the goddess of the fireplace, and it was the duty of the vestal virgins to keep a fire always burning on her altar. Among the Greeks the hearth or fireplace itself was an object of worship.
[Illustration: A VESTAL VIRGIN.]
These early peoples regarded the blessing of fire as so great that they believed it must have originally belonged to the gods alone. Many of them had traditions that the gods did not permit men in the earliest ages to have any knowledge or use of fire. Myths or stories have been found among the people of Australia, Asia, Europe, and America, telling how fire had been stolen from the gods and brought down to men. The best of these stories is that of the Greek, Prometheus, whose name means "forethought." This ancient mythical hero was supposed to have been the great friend and benefactor of mankind. But of all his gifts to men the most valuable was the gift of fire. According to the old myth, Prometheus went up into Olympus, the Greek heaven, and was welcomed by the gods. While there he examined the fire of the gods and thought what a blessing it would be to mankind. Acting under the advice of Athene, the goddess of wisdom, he stole some fire from the sun god, concealed it in a hollow reed, and brought it back with him to earth.
In early times there were no matches, and if a fire went out it was not easy to kindle it again. Probably the people wondered how the fire was made for the first time. They knew that it must have been obtained somehow, from somewhere; and out of this grew the story of Prometheus among the Greeks, and of the other fire stealers, the heroes of other peoples in all parts of the globe.
But all these stories of the fire of the gods and the way in which human beings were able to get hold of this priceless blessing we now know to be only myths. Students of early history are agreed that all men, everywhere, and at all times, have had the knowledge and the use of fire. Great differences exist between civilized and uncivilized people; the savages of interior Africa seem almost to belong to a different species of being from the cultured people of Europe and America; but all are able to warm themselves and to cook their food by means of burning fuel.
Civilized man has better arrangements for kindling his fire, better means of obtaining more good from it, and better ways for avoiding the smoke and other unpleasant features than has uncivilized man. A savage would not understand the modern chimney nor a kitchen range. He would be utterly at a loss to comprehend our modes of heating by the hot-air furnace or the coils of steam pipes. The forest provides him with all the wood that he needs for his fire, and he has little or no knowledge of coal or oil or gas.
Thus you and I are far in advance of the poor, half clad, half warmed savage; we are also in far more comfortable circumstances than were our ancestors who came from Europe to America two or three hundred years ago. In all the ages of the past until within a few hundred years little advance had been made in the methods of obtaining artificial heat. But since Columbus set sail from Spain, since John Cabot first saw the shores of this continent, since John Smith made friends with the Indians in Virginia, and William Bradford guided the lives of the Pilgrims at Plymouth, discoveries and inventions have changed most of our habits and customs as well as our surroundings. The methods of heating our houses and cooking our food have altered greatly, and we cannot fail to be interested in comparing the simple wood fires of long ago with the complex ways in which heat is now evenly distributed wherever it is wanted. For a little while, then, let us turn our thoughts to the primitive forms of heating and cooking which were common three centuries ago, and see in what ways the modern systems of providing artificial heat have been developed.
Chapter II.
Indian Homes.
Our homes and their surroundings are so familiar to us that it is hard for us to realize that our country was not always as it is now. Let us think about it. Have you seen any changes near where you live since you can remember? Have any new houses been built? Do you know of any old buildings that have been torn down in order that larger or better ones might take their places? Have you watched men making a new street or road, or, perhaps, working upon an old road to make it better? If you have, then you can think back to a time when some house that you can see to-day was not there; a time when there were not so many roads nor such good streets as now. Can you think back still further to a time when the house in which you live had not been built? when the street in front of your house had not been made? Can you imagine a time, still further back, when none of the houses in your city or village were standing? when there were no streets at all within sight of the place where you live? Then it will not be so very hard to think of the time, four hundred years ago, when there were no houses of wood, brick, or stone, such as we now see, anywhere in this country; when there was not a carriage road nor a street of any kind in the whole United States. We will try to imagine how this country looked before any white people lived in it, and before the cities and towns and villages and farms and ranches, that are so familiar to us, had been begun.
Four hundred years ago John Cabot sailed across the Atlantic Ocean and saw this country for the first time. As his little vessel moved along the coast, he looked upon bays and mouths of rivers which were very much as they are to-day. The peninsulas, the capes, and the islands were in the same places that they now are. They were, however, almost entirely covered with woods. Here and there were fields of grass, through which blue streams were flowing; but the larger part of what is now New England and the other Atlantic States was covered with thick forests. The trees were large and close together; their branches had never been cut off, and grew close to the ground. Shrubs and bushes filled all the space that was left between the larger trees, and made it almost impossible for any one to pass through. Wild animals had made paths for themselves, but if people had attempted to use these paths they would have been obliged to get down on their hands and knees and crawl through them. The rivers and the smaller streams of water were the best roads in those days; for unless they were shallow or flowed too swiftly down the rapids, boats could quite easily be pushed up stream as well as be carried down by the current.
In this country, covered with forests, were there only wild animals? Were there no human beings: no men, nor women, nor children? No white men lived in New England; the city of New York had not even been thought of; Baltimore and Savannah were impassable forests; and the great West was only a hunting ground. But the red men or American Indians did live in this country and were its only owners.
The Indians did not live in many roomed houses of wood or brick or stone; they never built roads or streets; nor did they ride in carriages. If they wished to go from one place to another they used canoes on the rivers as far as they could; if they wished to cross the land from one stream to another they made a foot path, called a trail. Sometimes a trail was broad enough to permit a canoe to be carried. Thus the Indians could travel long distances without growing tired from much walking.
The Indians must have had dwelling places to protect them from the cold and the storms which were as common then as now. Many tribes of Indians were in the habit of moving frequently from place to place, and for this reason their homes were not built for permanent use, but were made of materials that could be quickly put together. The Indians that lived in Canada and New England were more roving than those of New York; therefore their houses were very simple. They were long and narrow, with rounded roofs, and covered on the tops and sides with matting that could be readily removed.
The Iroquois, dwelling south of Lake Ontario, were a little more civilized than their neighbors, and built more permanent houses. Their dwellings were very long, from one to two hundred feet in length, and usually about thirty feet wide. The frames were made of long sticks or poles, set firmly in the ground; other poles formed the roof, with two sloping sides, over which were laid large strips of elm bark. These houses had a door at each end, with no windows, and light entered only through the doors and the large openings in the roof. The openings were made at frequent intervals to allow the escape of the smoke from the fires directly beneath.
Although the Indian dwellings varied greatly among the different tribes, in none of them did a family live by itself Usually twenty or more families dwelt together in each of the Iroquois "long houses." A building planned for twenty families had ten stalls or open closets as they might be called, arranged along each side. An open passageway ran the entire length of the house from door to door, in which were built five fires at equal distances. Each fire belonged to the four families whose stalls--two on each side--opened directly toward it.
[Illustration: IROQUOIS LONG HOUSE].
Now let us imagine ourselves in one of these long houses, and let us try to see just how everything looked. Let us suppose that it is a little after sunset on a cold, stormy winter evening. We are glad to get under any covering in order to be somewhat protected from the biting wind and the stinging sleet. We have been welcomed by the Indians, have been made the guests of one of the families, and have been given something to eat. Supper over, we are able to look about us and to think whether we should consider ourselves cosy and comfortable if this were our own home.
The first thing that we observe is the fire, as it snaps and hisses. How warm it is, and how good it feels as we toast our cold hands and feet before it! But somehow we begin to wish that we were back beside our own stove. Then our eyes would not ache from the smoke. Why does it not go out at the top? It tries to, but the wind blows it back into the house so that, at times, it fills every corner, blinding our eyes, stifling our breath, and covering us with cinders from head to foot.
But as we sit, Turk fashion, squatted before the fire, we notice that we are being slowly covered up by something else than cinders. Although all the smoke does not go out at the opening, it seems as if almost all the snow did come in. At times it falls gently, slowly sifting into every fold in our clothing, into our eyes and ears, and gradually covering everything with its mantle of white. At other times a strong gust of wind sweeps down into the room, almost putting out the fire, and chilling us through and through in spite of the roaring blaze.
Now cold shivers begin to run down our backs. Besides, our limbs are growing tired from sitting so long in the unusual position. So we think that we will try a change, and we decide to lie down at full length with our faces to the fire. It is not easy to move into the new position, because our neighbors are crowded so close to us; but we finally succeed. In a very few minutes our feet begin to ache with the cold and our faces seem burning up with the heat. Shall we change again, and for a time let our heads get cool while we warm our feet? We cannot keep this up all night, but we would need to do so if we tried to be really comfortable.
In this way the Indians lived. They had no beds, no separate chambers, no kitchen, dining room, nor parlor. In this one room, if it can be called a room, all the families ate and slept. Around these fires they spent their time while in the house. Here they lay stretched out for sleep, with skins of animals under them as a slight protection from the damp ground. They did not spend much time in changing their clothes, for they practically wore the same night and day. They really needed only the roof to cover them and the fire to warm them. Though the fire warmed them unevenly, though the smoke was uncomfortable, though the cold, the snow, and the rain came in at the opening and all around the sides of the house, yet the Indians had a covering, they had a fire, and they were to a great degree contented and happy.
[Illustration: INDIAN METHOD OF BROILING.]
They were used to this life; they knew no other. Even after the white men came and the Indians had seen them in their houses, they had no desire to change their mode of living. "Ugh!" grunted an old redskin, as he studied the white man's ways;--"ugh! Injun make a little fire and set close to him; white man make a big fire and set way off."
The Indians needed food as well as covering. Their cooking must have been quite different from that which is done on a large modern kitchen range. They had no domestic animals except the dog; no cows nor pigs, no hens nor turkeys. They were compelled to hunt wild animals if they wanted meat. This meat they usually broiled; not on a broiler or a toaster, but upon slats or strips of wood placed above the fire. Fish was cooked in the same way. Sometimes they boiled the meat. For this they usually had wooden dishes, which could not be put over the fire. These were filled with water, into which red hot stones were placed. When the water had been heated the food was put in it to be cooked.
We should now have some idea of the manner of life among the Indians. We have learned a little about their houses and their habits; we have seen how they made their fires and did their cooking; we have heard about their trails and their canoes, and the way in which they traveled from place to place. Thus lived the American Indians or red men three or four hundred years ago, and thus they would probably be living to-day if Columbus or some one else had not discovered America; if the English, the French, and the Spaniards had not come across the ocean; if farms and villages, towns and cities had not sprung up all over the country; if the white men had not taken much of the land over which the Indians had roamed for centuries; and if the Indians had not learned much from the white men which has greatly changed their conditions.
Chapter III.
Colonial Homes.
The Indians, seated in their long community houses around their wood fires, ranging over their hunting ground seeking fresh meat, or stealthily creeping through the forest hoping to surprise some human enemy, at last found that they could no longer have this entire continent to themselves. More than four hundred years ago Europeans discovered the "New World" and began to explore it. More than three hundred years ago the Spaniards conquered the Indians in Mexico and made a settlement in Florida. Nearly three hundred years ago the French began to build homes in Canada, the Dutch in New York, and the English in Virginia and New England.
These white men, with their wives and children, crossed the Atlantic Ocean in the small vessels of those days, and built villages and cleared the land for farms. Their settlements were generally near the seacoast or the great rivers. The pioneers were thus nearer one another, and could the more readily hasten to each other's assistance in case of need.
The newcomers were not alike in appearance or habits. The French had different customs from the Spaniards. They not only spoke a different language, but they wore different kinds of clothes, tilled the soil in a different way, and lived in houses of different styles. The Dutch were quite unlike the English. Then, again, the life of the English in Virginia was different from life in New England: in the former colony some of the settlers were wealthy, owned large plantations, and lived at long distances from one another; in the latter the colonists had more nearly equal possessions, occupied smaller farms, and lived close together.
Although the colonists thus had differing habits and customs, in many respects they were much alike. They had come to a country where everything was new. No mills nor factories were run by the streams; no shops made clothing or farming tools; no stores sold furniture or groceries. Everything that the colonists needed must be either brought across the ocean or roughly made by themselves. Of course only the rich could afford the expense of bringing heavy articles three thousand miles in sailing vessels; therefore a large part of what the colonists wore or ate or used for furniture or buildings was rude and of home manufacture. A description of the mode of life in one section of the country will give something of an idea of how the colonists lived in other sections.
[Illustration: PLYING THE AXE.]
Almost the first thing that was necessary for the colonist to do, as soon as he had determined where he was to live, was to build his house; he began at once to fell the trees. The axe was one of the most important of his possessions and he soon learned to use it with great skill. If he needed his house immediately he usually built it of rough, unsplit logs, filling the spaces with clay and covering the roof with thatch.
There is a story told of a log house which was built in the early part of one winter. The trees were cut when their trunks were frozen, and were laid in proper position to form the sides of the cabin. The stone chimney was built, and the house was ready. Day after day the great fireplace sent out its heat into the single room, until the sap in the logs was melted and little shoots with tender leaves began to form, which in time, at the ends of the logs nearest the fire, grew into long twigs. The logs had remained frozen on the outside, but had thawed within--a pleasant suggestion of the cheer and comfort found in a well warmed house.
If the newcomer had neighbors who could shelter his family for a time, he would split the logs and make a house somewhat tighter and better protected from cold and storm. After a time lumber mills were built and the logs were sawed into planks and boards. Many of the earliest New England houses contained but one room with an attic. The house was entered directly from out-of-doors, and was lighted by windows set with very small panes of glass or oiled paper. In one corner was the staircase, which sometimes was merely a ladder or perhaps a few cleats nailed on the framework. The furniture was meagre and most of it rudely made.
Can we see any improvement in this rough cottage over the Indian long house? It was more permanent; it was tighter and warmer; it was the abode of one family; it was a real home. In another respect the comfort of the log cabin was greatly increased: it had an enclosed fireplace and a chimney.
Some years ago fireplaces were seldom seen in our dwellings. In many of the old houses, in which the fireplaces were as old as the houses themselves, they were never used and were either boarded up or carefully screened from view. But more recently they have come into use again, and now seldom is a well arranged house built without one or more open fireplaces. We are then--most of us--acquainted with this small opening in the side or the corner of the room, in which small logs of wood burn upon the andirons or a bed of coals upon the grate. However, this modern grate or hearth is very unlike the huge fireplace of one and two centuries ago.
In the houses in which your great-grandmother and her mother and grandmother and great-grandmother lived the fireplace was not confined to a corner of the room, nor did it burn sticks fifteen or eighteen inches long. In the oldest house now standing in Rhode Island the fireplace was nearly ten feet long and about four feet in depth. Its back and sides were of stone, nearly two feet thick, and the chimney, thirteen feet by six, did not begin to narrow, as it went upward, until it reached the roof. This fireplace made an excellent play-house when the fire was out, and children found great delight in watching the stars from their seat in the chimney corner.
[Illustration: A COLONIAL FIREPLACE.]
At first this open fireplace, with the fire burning in the centre, was the only means for cooking which our ancestors possessed. When they were able to build larger houses, with two, four, or eight rooms, even two stories high, they still had the great hearths; not one alone, but one in each of the principal rooms, and sometimes in the chambers. As time went on, stone or brick ovens were built by the side of the fireplaces, and frequently tin or "Dutch" ovens were brought across the ocean and used in case of need. Let us look into one of these old houses on a Saturday, or "baking day," and notice some of the pleasures and inconveniences of cooking in olden time.
When Mother Brown rises at half past four in the morning she dresses quickly, for the coals, which had been carefully covered up, have given out little heat during the bitter, cold night. Before she can wash her hands and face she must start up the fire, for all the water in the house is frozen. She carefully rakes off the ashes from the coals which are still "alive," deftly lays on them a few shavings and pieces of bark, and, when they begin to burn brightly, piles upon them small and then larger sticks of wood. Now Father Brown and John, the hired man, who have come in from doing the chores, lift on to the fire one of the six foot logs, three or four feet in circumference, which have been previously brought in. Then Mother Brown calls the children. Ruth, the eldest, is already nearly dressed; Mehitable, just in her teens, is soon ready; while Polly, "the baby," nearly eight years old, finds it hard work to crawl out from between the sheets. The boys are even harder to rouse, for mother has to call Nathaniel, aged eleven, three times before he appears, and Joseph, two years younger, is slower still.
We will not stop to notice the breakfast, which is eaten, and the dishes washed, long before the sun rises. Now the outside door opens and in comes the old white horse, hauling a great backlog. John unhitches the chain and rolls the log upon the fire. This done, the horse goes out at the door opposite the one he entered. Father Brown brings in several armfuls of brush and heavier sticks, and throws them down near the fireplace.
As this is baking day, the oven must be made ready The great brick oven, one side of which makes also one side of the fireplace, is filled with the brush and light wood, which is soon burning briskly. For an hour the fire is kept up, new wood being thrown in when necessary; then it is allowed to go out. Meanwhile Mother Brown and Ruth are busy--mixing and rolling, sifting rye and Indian meal, stirring up eggs, and adding milk and butter. By the time the oven is heated the cooks are ready to use it; and Mehitable rakes out the coals and ashes with a long stick, shaped like a shepherd's crook.
[Illustration: HAULING IN A BACKLOG.]
First the pans of "rye 'n' Injun" bread are laid in the oven, away back at the farther end. Then the "pandowdy" or great apple pudding and the "Injun" pudding are placed in front of the bread. While the bread and the puddings are baking, two tin ovens are brought in and prepared for use. These Dutch ovens are mere sheets of metal curved around into more than half a circle, with the opening placed toward the fire. A long iron rod runs through from side to side of the oven on which the meat for roast is to be spitted. Mother Brown removes one of the spits and thrusts it through a piece of beef, and in the same way spits a fat turkey on the other. Here is work for little Polly, upon whom rests the task of frequently turning the spit so that the meat is evenly roasted.
Later in the day, when the bread is baked, the oven is heated again and filled with pies--apple, mince, squash, and pumpkin. By the time these are baked the day is done. The coals on the hearth are covered with ashes and the tired cooks gladly retire for the night.
[Illustration: COOKING IN A COLONIAL KITCHEN.]
On other days meat is boiled in pots that are hung from the crane, a long, swinging, iron rod which reaches directly over the fire or may be turned out into the room. Upon the hearth potatoes are baked, corn is roasted, and other primitive forms of cooking are used. We have made a long step from the Indian's open fire and his simple cooking to the brick and tin ovens and the metal pots and kettles of our ancestors; but is it not a longer step to the coal, oil, and gas ranges of to-day?
Chapter IV.
Chimneys.
Remembering our experience in the Indian long house--the discomfort of the smoke and the opening in the roof--we shall understand another great improvement in the colonist's house. Even the log cabin had its chimney. The rising column of hot air from the fire, carrying the smoke with it, is confined between walls of stone or brick, and the room is fairly free from smoke. Why did not the Indian build a chimney? The temporary nature of his dwelling may have been a partial reason; but the red man's lack of civilization was doubtless the most effective cause. Even many so-called civilized nations built their houses without chimneys, and in fact this convenience is but a few centuries old.
The ancient Greeks are praised for their high civilization, and yet they were little better off than the savage Indians of the New World in the methods of heating their houses. Neither the Greeks nor the Romans had chimneys for their dwellings. It is true that Greece and Italy are warmer countries than England or most of the United States, and doors and windows could be left open with less discomfort than with us. Much of the smoke might thus escape, but enough doubtless remained to be unpleasant. The Greeks refrained from carving the rooms in which fires were built, for they realized that such ornamentation would soon be discolored by soot.
After Greece had been conquered by the Romans and Rome had been overthrown by the Germanic tribes, much of the ancient civilization was lost and the "Dark Ages" followed. During this period the people throughout Europe made their fires in holes in the centre of the room, under an opening in the roof--just as we have seen that the Indians did. When the family went to bed at night they covered the hole in the roof with a board and also threw ashes over the coals, to prevent the wooden house from catching fire while they slept. It was the custom in every town, for many centuries, to ring the curfew or "cover-fire" bell each night, warning the inhabitants to cover their fires, put out their lights, and go to bed.
The first chimneys were probably built in Northern Italy about seven hundred years ago. The story is told that the Lord of Padua went to Rome in 1368 and found no chimney in his hotel. The Romans still held to the custom of kindling their fires in openings in the ground in the middle of the room. The Lord of Padua, longing for the comforts to which he was accustomed, sent to Padua for carpenters and masons, and had them build two chimneys like those at home. On the top of these he had his coat of arms affixed.
Gradually chimneys came into use throughout Europe, and when the colonists came to America they built them as a matter of course. As we have seen, the fireplaces were mammoth, and the chimneys therefore were also of great size; and for this reason, although the discomfort from the smoke was less than in the Indian long houses, it was not wholly avoided. For centuries, however, people had been used to the smoke, which occasionally poured back into the room instead of going up the chimney, and it did not occur to them, any more than to the red men, that it could be avoided. Not until a New England boy, who was then living in England, began to study into the cause of smoking chimneys was any relief obtained.
Benjamin Thompson was born in Woburn, Massachusetts, and had just come to manhood when the American Revolution broke out. Partly owing to certain family connections, he took the side of King George III., and went to England. After the war was over he went to Bavaria, entered the service of the king, and became his chamberlain. He rose through various positions until he became minister of war, and was made Count Rumford. He remained in Bavaria a few years, then lived for a time in England, and spent his last days in Paris.
Both in Bavaria and in England, Count Rumford devoted himself to science and the improvement of the conditions of his fellow men. It would be interesting to know the steps that he took and the good that he did, but we can here notice only some of his improvements in the methods of heating houses. As a scientist he was asked to "cure" smoking chimneys, and he succeeded so well that he once said he had "cured" more than five hundred in London alone.
He found out the simple fact that smoke will readily go up a chimney, unless there is something to stop it. All that was necessary was to discover the trouble and remove it. In nearly all of the five hundred chimneys nothing more was needed than to make the lower part of the chimney and the fireplace of the right form and size. One firm of builders was kept constantly employed carrying out his suggestions. Not only did he "cure" the chimneys, but he also prevented the waste of much heat. In accordance with his directions the square fireplace was changed so that the sides made a greater angle with the back and would therefore reflect more heat into the room. He also made the space about the fire smaller, thus rendering the air hotter and therefore more ready to rush up the chimney, carrying more of the smoke with it. Count Rumford's ideas have been generally followed since his day, and now fireplaces seldom give out smoke into the room while they furnish more heat.
Count Rumford next took up the problem of improving stoves. Before we consider his improvements, however, we must note something about the first stoves. Another Massachusetts boy, born nearly half a century before Benjamin Thompson, also became a scientist, inventor, and discoverer. Benjamin Franklin was a traveler and in many other respects was like Count Rumford. But he chose to go with the colonies when they revolted from Great Britain, and he gave all his services to his fellow countrymen. A few years before the birth of Thompson, Franklin made an invention which was the first improved method of heating rooms. There had been so-called German stoves before his day, but they were not much used in this country.
[Illustration: A FRANKLIN STOVE.]
It was in 1742 that Franklin, while in Philadelphia, devised the "Franklin stove" or "Pennsylvania fireplace." It consisted of iron sides, back and top, and was entirely open in front. A flue was arranged in the back which connected with the chimney to carry off the smoke. This movable fireplace was designed to burn wood, comparatively small logs being used. It had many advantages over the stone fireplace. It was set up nearer the middle of the room, thus sending heat out in all directions and warming the entire room. It saved much of the heat which had previously passed directly up the chimney and been lost. In the Pennsylvania fireplace this heat warmed the iron on the top of the stove and at the back, as well as the flue itself, all of which warmed the air in the room. Saving the heat saved wood also. Franklin himself said:
"My common room, I know, is made twice as warm as it used to be, with a quarter of the wood I formerly consumed there."
Franklin was offered a patent for his device by the governor of Pennsylvania, but he declined it. He declared that inasmuch as "we enjoy great advantages from the inventions of others, we should be glad of an opportunity to serve others by any invention of ours." Unfortunately, however, the people did not obtain from his generosity all the advantages that Franklin expected, for a London iron manufacturer made some slight changes in the pattern, not improving the stove in the least, and obtained a patent. From the sale of these stoves he made what was called "a small fortune."
Franklin's fireplace was but the first in a long series of inventions that have brought to us the stove of to-day. The great merit in his work was the idea of giving up the stone fireplace for one of iron. Changes in the form and shape of the stove have followed as a matter of course. No special credit is due to any one else, unless it be to Count Rumford, who, after curing the chimneys, made a cook stove with an oven. Then, for the first time since men knew how to cook over a fire, cooking could be carried on and the cook be protected from the direct heat of the fire.
Thus we come to the modern house with its modern stoves. No longer have we but one method of heating a dwelling. Sometimes a stove is set up in each of the rooms. Sometimes a larger stove is placed in the cellar, and this furnace heats air that is carried by large pipes or flues to the rooms, where the heated air comes out through registers. Sometimes a furnace in the cellar heats water, and hot water or steam is sent through small pipes, and passing through coils or radiators gives out heat. Besides, the cooking range is found in most kitchens.
All these systems of heating houses exist instead of the old-fashioned fireplace. Even when the modern grate is built, it is usual to find a register or steam coil on the opposite side of the room, because the open fire is apt to warm one side of the room only. It is pleasant, however, to look into a blazing fire, and we are sometimes almost willing to have the heat unevenly distributed if only we can watch the flames.
Some form of the stove, however, is our main dependence, and its various developments have been due, generally, to the desire of being freed from the discomforts of the old time methods. Perhaps also the growing scarcity of wood and the discovery of coal have had some effect upon the development of the stove; but that we must leave to another chapter.
Chapter V.
Fuel.
"What do you burn in the stoves in your houses?" was asked of a class of schoolchildren in a small Pennsylvania town. Hands went up in every direction; one said "kerosene oil"; two others shouted "gas"; a few replied "wood"; most of the class answered "coal." Then the teacher made further inquiries to learn why these different substances were used. The three who answered gas and oil agreed that coal was burned in other stoves in their houses, but that oil and gas stoves were used also because they were so convenient.
When the question was asked why coal was used, instantly the answer was given that coal was the best thing to burn; everybody burned it. Now this was not quite true, but Miss Turner, the teacher, instead of immediately correcting the error, turned to the pupils who had answered "wood," and inquired why they used wood. One said, "We haven't any coal"; another thought that it was because wood kindled more easily than coal; a third was sure that he was right--"We don't have to buy wood; coal costs money."
Now this boy had the correct idea. He lived in the country, though near the town. His father owned a large farm, a part of which was still forest land; he could cut his own wood, and therefore did not buy coal. After a few more questions the teacher discovered that all those who burned wood lived some little distance from town.
Then she turned to the class again and asked them if they could now tell why the town families used coal instead of wood. One said, "We do not own forests." Another thought that it was because there were not trees enough. A third shook his hand wildly and shouted, "Coal is cheaper than wood!" A shy little girl ventured to suggest, "Because coal is better than wood; it lasts longer."
"You have each of you given a good reason," Miss Turner answered. "Coal is cheaper than wood here in the town because wood is growing more and more scarce. Many of your parents prefer coal because with it the fire needs less attention. But the coal dealers charge more to carry coal out into the country, and those who still own forests find it cheaper to burn their own wood. What sort of replies would I have received if I had asked the same questions of children in Pennsylvania Colony, or in any of the colonies, one hundred and fifty or two hundred years ago?"
The children had studied history somewhat. They knew the story of Columbus and his discoveries; they had read of the Pilgrims and the Puritans; they could have answered questions concerning John Smith and Henry Hudson; and they were especially familiar with William Penn and the Quakers, with George Washington and Braddock's defeat. But not one of them remembered that he had ever been told anything about the fires of the colonists.
There was a pause for a time; then one boy asked, "Didn't they burn just what we burn?" After another pause the shy little girl asked, "Didn't they have more forests then than now?" Before the teacher could reply, a boy said, "Perhaps they did not have any coal."
The children had thus thought it out for themselves, and they were right. Miss Turner then told them that it was many years after the time of Columbus or Hudson or Penn before coal mines were discovered in this country or coal used. She added that almost all the country, from Maine to Georgia and westward across the Alleghany Mountains, was covered with thick forests when the colonists crossed the Atlantic Ocean.
"What do you suppose our ancestors thought of these forests? Were they glad to see them, or did they wish that they covered less ground?" asked the teacher.
Most of the children answered that the forests must have been of great value to the colonists; they would not have to pay anything for fuel.
"Can you raise vegetables or grain in the woods?" was Miss Turner's next question.
Then the pupils began to see that the forests were hindrances as well as helps. The teacher told them that they gave the colonists more wood than was needed for fires and for lumber. She added that every acre of ground that they wished to plant with Indian corn or rye, with potatoes or squashes, must first be freed from the trees. Before the land could be plowed it must be cleared. If, then, the trees furnished more wood than could be used, it was natural for the farmer to burn the trees and stumps in the fields.
If there had been but few settlers and if they had been widely scattered over a large territory, no harm would have resulted. But the colonists came over by the thousands and had large families of children. By the time the country had been settled a hundred years, great gaps had been made in the forests. A few of the most foresighted of the colonists began to think about the future and to wonder what they would do for fuel if the wood should give out. In fact, trees began to be scarce in the neighborhood of the larger towns, and firewood as well as lumber became expensive.
"Suppose that all the forests in this country had been destroyed," the class was asked, "what would the people have done for fuel?"
"Used coal," replied a boy from a back seat.
"Yes," said Miss Turner, "if there were any coal, and if the colonists knew where to find it and how to use it. But what is this coal and where does it come from?"
"We owe all our knowledge of the origin of coal to the geologists, who have made a careful study of the surface of the earth," continued Miss Turner. "They tell us that there was a time when human beings did not live on the earth; when not even animals that need to breathe the air could exist. The atmosphere which surrounded the earth in those days was different from the air which we breathe. We need the oxygen that is in our air to sustain life; poor ventilation in our rooms or halls soon renders them uncomfortable and often causes our heads to ache. The reason for this is the presence in the air of too large a quantity of a gas called carbonic acid gas; an extra amount of it makes the air unfit to breathe, but a certain amount is necessary to sustain plant life.
"In the coal-forming or carboniferous age the atmosphere around the earth contained less oxygen than at present and great quantities of carbonic acid gas. For this reason, as I have said, animals did not exist, but plants--large shrubs, great ferns, and huge trees--lived and grew vigorously. If we have ever seen thick woods we need only imagine all the bushes and trees of the forest to be of enormous size in order to have some idea of the vegetable growth of the carboniferous age. The earth was preparing vast quantities of fuel to be ready, thousands of years later, for the millions of men that were to come.
"The growth of the forests was but one step in the preparation of coal. The second step was the submerging of the forests, covering them with water as if at the bottom of the sea. Then the streams brought gravel, sand, and mud into this ocean, and these were hardened into clay and sandstone by the pressure of the water, perhaps aided by the heat of the earth itself. The trees and ferns were bent down and pressed together and driven into the most compact condition possible.
"But again earthquakes came and the water disappeared. The layer of clay and sandstone was covered with soil which became dry enough to produce other forests, growing as rank as the first. These were again overwhelmed and covered first with water, then with rocks and soil, only to be lifted again for another growth. This process was repeated in some cases many times, as we can see with a little study."
Here Miss Turner stopped and said: "Next Saturday, if it is pleasant, we will have our annual spring picnic. We will go to a new place this time. We will try Howland's Grove, and then in the afternoon we will go down into the Jefferson mine and see what it is like."
We have not time to read about the picnic, nor of the interest that the class showed before the appointed Saturday, as well as all the forenoon of that day. Nor can we tell how the children went down the shaft of the mine, and how they were at first so quiet that hardly a word was said. The teacher showed them a layer of coal in the mine which was about three feet thick. Just above it was a rock which was different from the coal. This they were told was sandstone, the hardened sand which had been heaped upon the forests so many thousand years before. Then below the coal was another rock which was entirely unlike either the coal or the sandstone. This was the seat-stone, the rock made out of the soil in which the forest had grown. Then below this they found three more layers, sandstone, coal, and seat-stone, and so on until the bottom of the mine was reached.
By this time the children were ready to ask questions.
"Oh, Miss Turner, what is this curious-looking thing in this part of the seat-stone?" asked one of the boys.
Miss Turner replied: "That is a fossil. It is part of a root of a tree, and has retained its shape and appearance all these thousands and thousands of years."
[Illustration: IN A COAL MINE.]
One of the miners who had been listening to the conversation said: "If you will step this way, madam, I can show you the whole of a tree-trunk in the coal."
The children eagerly crowded around as the miner showed the fossilized trunk of a tree still standing just as it grew, with its roots in the seat-stone and its top in the sandstone above the coal--for here the layer of coal was several feet in thickness.
A few minutes afterward, as the children were looking carefully at the sides of the mine to see if they could find more fossils, the shy little girl said quietly to the teacher: "I think that I have found something, Miss Turner; won't you please see?"
She led the way to a trunk which showed the various stages in the process of change. One end was still almost like wood, the middle part was a very soft brown coal, while the other end was true coal.
"That helps us to understand more about the way in which the forests were changed to coal," said Miss Turner. "Now here is one more proof that coal was formed out of wood."
The teacher picked up a piece of coal and broke it with a hammer. Then she showed on the new surface some patches of a black substance. "Does not that look like charcoal?" she asked. "You know that charcoal is wood partly burned."
Thus the class learned how nature, ages and ages ago, began to prepare for the use of man a fuel which seems inexhaustible, is superior to wood in many respects, and is freely distributed in various portions of the world. This coal, which has taken the place of wood to a great extent in furnishing heat for our houses and stores, is found in large quantities in the United States, but was not mined or used here until the middle of the last century.
Chapter VI.
Coal.
The use of coal for heating purposes is so familiar to every one nowadays that probably few have ever thought about the time when it was unknown. Coal was as plentiful three thousand years ago as it is now. Layers and beds of the fuel existed just under the surface of the ground, and in many places cropped out through it. But the stones were merely "black rocks," and the idea that rocks would burn was too absurd to occur to any one. We may well wonder how it was first discovered that coal would burn.
Professor Greene suggests a possible explanation of this discovery. "There is in coal a hard, yellow, brassy mineral which flies in the fire and not infrequently startles the circle that has gathered around its cheerful blaze. When exposed to damp air this mineral undergoes chemical change, and during the process heat is given out, sometimes in sufficient quantities to set the coal alight. In this way it occasionally happens that seams of coal, when they lie near the surface, take fire of their own accord. One day a savage on a stroll was startled by finding the ground warm beneath his feet, and by seeing smoke and sulphurous vapors issuing from it. He laid it first to a supernatural cause; but curiosity getting the better of superstition, he scraped away the earth to find whence the reek came. Then he saw a bed of black stone, loose blocks of which he had already noticed lying about; parts of this stone were smouldering, and as soon as air was admitted burst into a blaze."
Whether coal was thus discovered or not, its first discovery must have occurred early in the history of the world. More than twenty centuries ago the Greek scholar, Theophrastus, wrote of the coals which were used by blacksmiths. There are indications that coal was mined in England before that country was conquered by the Romans. But not until the twelfth century was enough of the mineral mined in Newcastle, the great coal region of England, to warrant its being carried to London. As this coal was brought in vessels to the metropolis it received the name of "sea-coal," and it was thus called for several centuries.
How strange it is that opposition always arises to every new thing! People are always to be found who think that anything with which they are not familiar cannot be good. So it was in London. A cry began to arise that the use of coal was injurious to health. The coal was soft or bituminous, and burned with considerable flame and a dense smoke. This was before the common use of chimneys, and therefore the air in the rooms where it was burned became filled with an unpleasant odor. The belief was general that the use of coal rendered the air unfit to breathe, and Parliament was requested to put a stop to it. King Edward I. issued a proclamation forbidding any but blacksmiths to burn sea-coals, and directing that buildings from which coal-smoke was seen to come should be torn down. Though the law was repealed under a later king, coal was but little used for household purposes until the eighteenth century.
Most of the coal beds in the United States are situated at some distance from the ocean; therefore the first colonists, settling along the coast, were for a long time ignorant of their existence. The first white man to discover coal was Father Hennepin, who more than two hundred years ago, while exploring the Mississippi River, found it in Illinois. The first mines worked were the Richmond fields in Virginia, where coal was taken out a century and a half ago.
There is a tradition that a boy left home one morning to go fishing. After trying his luck for a time he found that his bait was gone. Accordingly he began to hunt for crawfish, and while searching stumbled over some black stones which attracted his attention. He had found the "outcrop" of a coal bed, and on his return he made known his discovery. A rich vein of coal was soon disclosed, and mining on a small scale was begun. We must remember that this story is only tradition and may not be true. We might wonder, perhaps, how the boy knew that the stones were any different from other rocks except in being black.
The way in which a twelve-foot vein was discovered in Pennsylvania is told in _Forest and Stream_, and is probably quite true.
Elias Blank, living in Western Pennsylvania in the latter part of the last century, was called to his door one night and found there Lewis Whetzell, a famous Indian fighter, and Jonathan Gates, commonly called "Long Arms."
"Friend Lewis," said Mr. Blank, "where have thee and our friend been, and where bound?"
"I want to get out of here at once," said Whetzell, "and Long Arms is of the same opinion. This country's bewitched, and Long Arms and I are nearly scared to death."
"Friend Lewis, thee must not tell such stories to me," said old Elias. "Thee knows I am thy friend, and I have saved thee when a price was on thy head. I know thou art a man of courage, and friend Jonathan Gates, whom some call 'Long Arms,' fears nothing on earth, and I'm fearful nothing anywhere else; and yet thou tellest me that he and thee are scared even almost to death. Shame on thee so to declare before thy friend, who loves ye both as he were thy father!"
"No, no, Elias," said Whetzell, dropping into the Quaker speech. "I tell thee no lie. We are scared. Yesterday afternoon we were in hiding about a mile from Dunkard Creek, and in the evening we built a fire under the bank very carefully; and we got some black rocks to prop up a little kettle, and put them beside the fire rather than in it; and the black rocks took fire and burned fiercely, with a filthy smoke and a bright light; and Long Arms said the devil would come if we stayed; and we grabbed the kettle and poured out the water, and made our way here, leaving the black rocks to burn."
Elias Blank was much interested. He did not tell Whetzell what the black rocks were, but he found out exactly where the men had made their fire, and the next day hunted up the camping-ground, found the "black rocks" in one of the river-hills, and opened a coal bank.
Thus, a little here and a little there, coal was discovered and used. At first it was mingled with wood, and then burned alone on the hearth. This coal was easily kindled, for it was bituminous or soft; it was not necessary to provide an extra draft, or to spend much more time in lighting it than had been customary with wood. Not many years passed, however, before a variety of coal was found that was hard and would not kindle easily. Accordingly it was thrown aside as useless. This was anthracite coal, and it is now generally preferred to the bituminous because of this very quality. Being hard, it does not burn away so rapidly; besides, it needs less attention and gives out much less smoke.
Just before the Revolution, Obadiah Gore, a blacksmith in the Wyoming valley in Pennsylvania, tried hard coal in his forge. At first, even with his great bellows, he was unable to make it burn. He continued the experiment, however, and after a time the lumps began to yield and flames darted from them. He thus discovered that pieces of anthracite coal could be kindled and burned if there was a "strong current of air," as he said, "sent through them by the bellows; without that I could do nothing with them."
Mr. Gore thus used anthracite coal in his forge, but even he did not burn it at home. Not until the beginning of this century was hard coal used for domestic purposes. Oliver Evans in 1803 successfully burned it in a grate. Many years passed, however, before hard coal came into common use. A few people purchased anthracite coal, but they could not burn it; they used it just as they had been accustomed to use soft coal. After that, great difficulty was experienced in persuading any one to try the new coal.
Nicholas Allen in Pennsylvania discovered anthracite coal and got out several wagonloads of it. He tried in vain to sell it. "No," said the people, "we have tried that once, and we do not propose to be cheated again." Mr. Allen became discouraged and sold his interest to his partner, Colonel Shoemaker, who took the coal to Philadelphia. Here he praised it so highly that at last a few people bought a little for trial. They continually punched the coal and stirred up the fire, but they did not succeed in making it burn. They became enraged with Colonel Shoemaker, and procured a warrant for his arrest as a common impostor. The colonel heard of the warrant, quietly left the city, and drove thirty miles out of his route in order to avoid the officer. Fortunately a firm of iron factors who had purchased some of the coal succeeded in making it burn. They announced the fact in the Philadelphia newspapers, and other iron-workers tried the coal. Soon all the furnaces were using it.
[Illustration: BLACKSMITH AT HIS FORGE.]
Both anthracite and bituminous coal are freely mined in various sections of the United States. There is coal enough underground to last for many centuries. It used to be said that England was the great coal-mining country, for her coal fields are nearly as extensive as those of all the rest of Europe. But the United States has a supply of coal that will apparently be hardly diminished when that of the British Islands is entirely used. The single State of Pennsylvania has a greater store of coal than all Europe, and her part is less than one-tenth of the stock of coal in the United States.
Even if the forests of the entire country should be destroyed, we should not want for fuel. But let us remember that not only would the loss of our forests deprive us of wood for other purposes than merely to keep us warm, but it would also cause great injury to the farming interests of the country. If we would have good crops we must have proper rainfalls; without forests the rain would do greater and greater injury and less and less good. We ought to do all in our power to help preserve our forests, and as far as we can to increase the number of trees.
Chapter VII.
Matches.
"Thomas! Thomas! The fire is out! Get right up and go over to neighbor Wallace's and borrow some fire." It was a cold morning, eight degrees below zero, and Mr. Wallace lived three-quarters of a mile away. The sun would not rise for two hours; but, when mother called, the boys instantly obeyed. Thomas hurriedly dressed, snatched a shovel which was standing by the hearth, and hastily shutting the outside door, ran as fast as he could to the nearest neighbor's. Of course he hurried, for was not mother all dressed and not a bit of fire in the house? The fire must have died down too much the evening before; and although the coals had been carefully covered with ashes before father and mother went to bed, mother could not find a tiny spark anywhere under the ashes in the morning.
Thomas kept up his run until he was tired, and then fell into a brisk walk. When he reached neighbor Wallace's, he was glad to warm his numbed fingers over the raging fire in the fireplace. But he knew that he must not stop long, so he stated his errand, and Mrs. Wallace placed some live coals on his shovel and thoroughly covered them with ashes. Thomas rested a moment longer and then hastened home; for if those coals should be out when he reached the house he would have to make the trip over again.
This disaster did not befall him, however, and soon his mother had placed the coals on the hearth and had laid upon them a few shavings. These kindled at once; small sticks were soon ablaze, and in a very short time the fire was burning as vigorously as the neighbor's had been.
[Illustration: THOMAS CARRYING FIRE.]
The boys of two centuries ago fully realized what it meant to have the fire go out. Perhaps the nearest neighbors were not always so far distant, but it was no pleasant task to be sent for coals any distance on a winter morning. If, however, no neighbors were near and coals could not be borrowed, how under circumstances like these could a new fire be kindled? If we wanted a fire nowadays we might say, "Strike a light," because we should obtain the light by striking a match; but, before matches were invented, the expression used would probably have been, "Rub a light."
An early method of producing a light, and from this a fire, was by rubbing two sticks together. If this process be continued long enough the wood will become heated and sparks will fly off. Then, in order to start the fire, it is only necessary to catch one of these sparks upon something that will burn easily. This method was used thousands of years ago, and is still common among the savages in various parts of the globe. This seems simple enough, but if you try it you will find that it is no easy task. It requires considerable muscular power to "rub a light" from two sticks of wood, and almost any other process is preferable.
The most important thing in this method of kindling a fire is the rapidity with which the sticks are rubbed together. Some one of the savages more keen than the others conceived the idea that he could save labor and at the same time increase the rapidity with which the stick moved. He took his bow and twisted the cord once around a stick. Then he placed one end on a piece of wood, and by moving the bow back and forth twisted the stick with great rapidity. Soon the shavings which he had placed at the point of contact were ablaze. Little by little this drill was improved, and now among some of the American Indians it furnishes a comparatively easy way of kindling a fire.
[Illustration: TINDER BOX, FLINT, AND MATCHES.]
Most children have seen a spark caused by the shoe of a horse striking a stone in the road. Sometimes if one stone strikes another a spark is produced. All this was perceived even in the earliest times, and the best substances to be used became well known. The stone called flint was found to be the best for one of the two substances, and steel is usually preferred for the other. When steel and flint strike each other, if a spark falls upon some vegetable matter a fire is soon kindled.
Perhaps the most common substance used to catch the spark was touchwood, a soft, decayed wood carefully broken into small fragments. After a time, in place of the touchwood, tinder was used, which was made by scorching old linen handkerchiefs. Later the tinder box was invented, in which a steel wheel was spun like a top upon a piece of flint set in tinder. After the discovery of gunpowder, flint and steel were used in guns. A hammer of flint struck an anvil of steel, and the spark produced fell into a pan of gunpowder, causing the flash which fired the gun.
Before the American Revolution, and even into the present century, the process of kindling a fire was not a simple one. The most frequent means employed, as has been seen, was the borrowing of coals from a neighbor. Less often, recourse was had to the long and difficult process of rubbing a spark from two pieces of wood. Sometimes, among the well-to-do, the tinder box was used; but it was seldom satisfactory. For these reasons the fire was always most carefully watched; every precaution was taken to prevent it from going out. Seldom could the house be left by the whole family for any length of time, and all because of the lack of a match.
Matches are a result of the study of chemistry. During the Dark Ages a few scholars were interested in what they called alchemy; but they spent most of their time and thought in trying to discover two things--how to change iron into gold, and how to keep themselves eternally young. About two hundred years ago these two foolish desires came to be considered unpractical, and since then chemists have been constantly seeking to discover ways of benefiting mankind. For many years students in different countries tried to find certain chemicals that could be so combined as to render the tinder box unnecessary. Several of these attempts to make a light seemed successful, but most of them were dangerous and all were expensive. An account of one of these trials may be of interest.
About seventy years ago a young man named Lauria, in Lyons, France, watched his professor pound some sulphur and chlorate of potash together. The resulting flash and sharp crack set him thinking, and he went home and began to experiment. He had a few sticks of pine wood which had been partly dipped in sulphur, and a few glass tubes, and he obtained more sulphur and some chlorate. He tried melting and mixing, only to meet with many accidents. Finally he dipped the end of one of the sticks into sulphur and then into the chlorate. He observed that some of the chlorate remained on the stick. Then he rubbed this prepared end on the wall where there happened to be a little phosphorus; the stick immediately blazed. He had discovered for himself the principle of the match; all he needed besides was something which would make the chlorate always stick to the sulphured wood.
However, this match was not satisfactory and was never manufactured for sale. Phosphorus was dangerous, and it was not safe to have it spread upon a wall or any other surface. The first matches of practical use were made in 1833, and were invented by six different men in six different countries. These were the original Lucifer matches, which did not require the use of phosphorus. They were made of thin sticks of wood partly covered with sulphur. The ends of these sticks were then dipped into a compound of chlorate of potash, sulphite of antimony, and gum. When used these matches were drawn through a bent piece of sandpaper. They were costly, frequently selling for a cent apiece.
A few years later a famous chemist discovered the red form of phosphorus, which is not dangerous to handle. Since that time most matches have contained this substance in the mixture, although during the last half century hundreds of different combinations have been invented. To-day hardly any article is manufactured that is so common and inexpensive as the match. Without it we should feel almost lost, and surely it would seem to us that the Dark Ages had returned. We are told that the inhabitants of the United States use on an average more than a thousand matches a year each. There are more than forty manufactories in this country, most of them being in California, Connecticut, New York, and Pennsylvania, yet the entire business is principally controlled by one great company.
During the last two hundred years chimneys have been improved, stoves have been invented and developed, coal has been discovered, and matches have come into universal use. The log cabins of our ancestors have been replaced by the well-built houses of to-day. The mammoth fireplaces, sending much heat up the chimney and much smoke into the room, have given way to the stoves and furnaces that render life comfortable. No longer is it necessary to freeze our backs while roasting our faces. Cranes, pot-hooks and trammels, and Dutch ovens are chiefly to be seen in museums, and the kitchen range saves the cook much needless labor. Nowadays we seldom find the fires out on a winter's morning and the water frozen in the pitcher. Instead of hastening through the cold and the snow to a neighbor to borrow fire, we simply "strike a match." We all of us live in comfort that would have seemed luxury to the wealthiest families two centuries ago.
Can we look forward to the changes that may come in the future in the methods of heating our houses and cooking our food? Already railroad cars are being heated by steam from the engines and electric cars are heated by electricity. Already oil stoves and gas stoves have come into common use and are found to possess many advantages: No ashes need removal; the fire may be started without delay; the room is less heated than with a coal fire; and the blaze may be turned out when no longer needed. Already in some parts of the country natural gas is led by pipes directly from the wells into houses for cooking and for heating purposes. Already experiments in heating houses and cooking food by means of electricity are common and to some extent successful. It would seem that the inventions and improvements of the next hundred years may render the homes as much more comfortable than those of to-day as ours surpass those of our ancestors.
[Illustration: THOMAS A. EDISON.]
[Illustration: MINOT'S LEDGE LIGHT, MASSACHUSETTS BAY.]
Section II.--Light.
Chapter I.
Torches.
Wood and coal, gas and oil, electricity even, aid us in our demand for warm houses. In winter we should suffer greatly were it not for our fireplaces, our stoves, and our furnaces. The sun then shines but a short time every day, and sends us little heat. In summer "the great orb of day" remains many hours in the heavens, and warms us through and through. We have little desire then for artificial heat; natural heat is sometimes more than sufficient.
The sun shines over all the world. "His going forth is from the end of the heaven, and his circuit unto the ends of it: and there is nothing hid from the heat thereof."
The sun does much more for us than send us its heat-rays: all day long we rejoice in the bright sunshine. But at night, when the sun has set, we ask for artificial light. How shall we get it? How did our ancestors obtain it?
We have in our day the electric light; we can use illuminating gas; kerosene is easily obtained; if necessary, we can resort to candles. Yet there was a time when the electric light had not been discovered. Earlier still, gas had not been made and kerosene was not known. Indeed, long, long ago even candles had not been seen by men. What did the people do for light on a dark night in those times? After the sun had set and night had settled down upon them, what could they do during the long winter evenings without some method of lighting up the darkness?
[Illustration: INDIANS TRAVELING AT NIGHT.]
As we looked to the American Indians for the simplest and rudest methods of obtaining heat, so we can also learn something from them of the primitive modes of lighting. Much of the time the red men found sufficient light for all their wants in the wood fire. They needed no candles to read by, for they had no books nor papers. They cared for no lamp to dress by; they sought no illumination for halls or churches or theatres. What little need they had for artificial light was practically satisfied by that which came from the blazing logs.
If, however, on any special occasion they wished to light up their long houses more brightly, the Indians used pitch-pine knots. In case they were traveling by night and did not care to proceed stealthily or secretly, these fagots of pitch pine gave them all the light they wanted. The light from these sticks was dim; it flickered so as to hurt the eyes; more smoke was given out than light; but the savage was fully content.
Long before the red men were known, however, the burning fagot was used by the people of Europe and Asia to lessen the darkness of the night.
An interesting story is told of Hannibal when he was leading the Carthaginian army against Rome. In the course of his journey he marched his whole force into a valley which was entirely surrounded by high mountains very difficult to cross. Fabius, his Roman opponent, placed his own army in the pass and enclosed Hannibal in the valley. Hannibal was apparently caught in a trap, but he was a shrewd commander, and he quickly devised a trick to make Fabius withdraw his legions. Early in the day he sent out a large detail from his army to gather fagots. What was he about to do with such great quantities of pine knots?
In the afternoon, by Hannibal's orders, these fagots were bound to the horns of oxen which had been driven along during the march for food for the army. At nightfall the fagots were lighted and the oxen were driven directly up the steep side of one of the mountains. Fabius naturally supposed that the lights moving up the mountain-side must be carried by soldiers, and he thought that Hannibal and all his army were trying to escape in that direction. Accordingly he quickly withdrew his troops from the pass in order to attack the enemy when they came down the opposite side of the mountain. Hannibal then quietly marched his army through the pass, meeting with no opposition.
Long, long centuries before Hannibal the torch was known. In that strange story of Gideon and his three hundred men who overcame the Midianites, the torch or lamp was one of the weapons used. The vast host of the Midianites, fearing no hostile attack, was spread over a great valley. Gideon placed his little band of men on the hills around the enemy's camp, each man at a considerable distance from the next, so that they made a line nearly surrounding the entire valley. Every man had a trumpet in one hand, and a lamp or torch covered by an upturned pitcher in the other. This arrangement of the lamp and the pitcher allowed a little light to be thrown upon the ground directly beneath. The men could thus avoid stepping upon dry sticks and making a noise which might alarm the guards around the camp of the Midianites. At the same time the light was concealed from the eyes of their enemies.
When all was ready a shout was raised, "The sword of the Lord and of Gideon!" and the pitchers were thrown with a great crash upon the ground. The sudden noise of voices and of the breaking pitchers awoke the Midianites from a deep sleep; the trumpets and the shouts turned their eyes to the hills. All along the line of the three hundred men spread out in a circle around them blazed the three hundred torches. As it was the custom in those days to have a torch or a lamp indicate the headquarters of a general, the Midianites in their sudden terror naturally thought that an immense army was surrounding them. They imagined that Gideon had hired vast forces from Egypt and elsewhere, for they supposed that each of the several hundred torches indicated a general with all his followers. Their only thought, therefore, was to flee as quickly as possible. They ran against each other, and, unable in the darkness to distinguish friend from foe, they killed their own men. The entire army of one hundred and thirty-five thousand men perished.
It is not certain whether the lights which were covered by the pitchers came from lamps or torches. Gideon lived three thousand years ago, and at that time both torches and lamps were used. He was a general of the Israelites, and they certainly had lamps when in Egypt many years before the time of Gideon. Lamps were also used by the Greeks and the Romans.
The lamp of these ancient times was merely a small vessel like a modern cup or bowl, usually having a handle. This was filled with oil, generally olive, or sometimes only with grease. In this cup was placed a small piece of cloth hanging over the side, which when lighted served as a wick. It was the simplest arrangement possible.
[Illustration: ANCIENT LAMPS.]
The pitch-pine knot and the cup of grease have been more or less used since these early times. When our ancestors came to this country their houses were generally lighted by candles. In many cases, however, the light from the fireplace was all that was used except on rare occasions. The settlers who gradually moved westward to take up new lands retained nearly all the inconvenient methods of the earlier colonists. In the newer settlements of the Ohio and Mississippi valleys and on the great Western plains the logs on the hearth were frequently the only means for lighting the house during the evenings.
On Knob Creek, in the new State of Kentucky, a little school was kept nearly eighty-five years ago. Among the pupils was a small boy not seven years of age. One of his schoolmates afterward said of him that he was "an unusually bright boy at school, and made splendid progress in his studies. He would get spice-wood brushes, hack them up on a log, and burn two or three together for the purpose of giving light by which he might pursue his studies." It does not surprise us to learn that this boy who thus in his earliest years showed such eagerness to learn as to utilize the light of the kitchen fire was Abraham Lincoln, afterward the famous President of the United States.
Many men are now living who do not remember to have seen in their boyhood days any better light than the grease lamp. One of these primitive lamps was easily made. An old button was covered with cloth, which was tied with a string close to the button, the edges of the cloth hanging free. This covered button was placed upon lard in a saucer or other similar vessel, and a light applied. The lard around the cloth melted, the button acted as a wick, and a rude lamp was the result.
The hearth fire, the fagot or pitch-pine knot, and the pot of grease or lard with a simple wick were the earliest methods of artificial lighting. These, though still in use in newly settled communities, gave place, in the main, centuries ago to the candle. As this was the first improved method for lighting houses, churches, and other buildings, it should next be considered.
Chapter II.
Candles.
Nobody can tell when candles were invented. Candlesticks are often spoken of in the Bible, but those doubtless held oil and burned a wick which hung over the side like the Roman lamps of later time. These lamps appear to have been used by the Romans in their worship, and after the Christian religion was established at Rome, candles were introduced into the Christian service. During all the centuries since that time the candle has been used in Catholic churches and cathedrals.
The Romans on the second day of February burned candles to the goddess Februa, the mother of Mars, the Roman god of war, and Pope Sergius adopted the custom and established rites and ceremonies for that day in the offering of candles to the Virgin Mary. This was called Candlemas day. The common people supposed that these candles would frighten away the devil and all evil spirits not only from the persons who burned them, but from the houses in which they were placed. There is an ancient tradition about Candlemas day which seems to have traveled all over Europe and found its way into this country; if the weather is fine on that day--February 2d--it indicates a long winter and a late spring. The Scotch state the legend in this way:
"If Candlemas day is fair and clear, There'll be two winters in the year."
For several centuries past candles have been used all over the world for lighting purposes. We have a variety of candles even in these days, as they are now made of tallow, stearin, bleached wax, spermaceti, and paraffine. Those commonly used by the early colonists were dipped candles, often roughly made at home. For the wicks a loose, soft, fibrous substance was taken, generally cotton. These were hung upon a frame and dipped in melted tallow, taken out, suffered to cool, and dipped again and again until the required thickness was obtained. Moulded candles were cast in a series of tubes, the wicks first being adjusted in the middle of the tubes and melted tallow poured in. The best candles were made of wax. These were neither dipped nor moulded. The wicks were warmed, and melted wax poured over them until they acquired the proper thickness, then they were rolled between flat pieces of wet, hard wood.
It is related of Benjamin Franklin that when a young man he received an invitation from Gov. William Burnet, of New York, to call upon him. The governor was delighted with his conversation, and was surprised to hear him quote from Locke on the Understanding. The governor asked him at what college he had studied Locke.
"Why, sir," said Franklin, "it was my misfortune never to be at any college, or even at a grammar school, except for a year or two when I was a child."
Here the governor sprang from his seat, and staring at Ben, cried out: "Well, and where did you get your education, pray?"
"At home, sir, in a tallow-chandler's shop."
"In a tallow-chandler's shop!" exclaimed the governor.
"Yes, sir; my father was a poor old tallow chandler with fifteen children, and I the youngest of all. [His father had, later, two other children, both girls.] At eight he put me to school; but finding he could not spare the money from the rest of the children to keep me there, he took me home into the shop, where I assisted him by twisting candlewicks and filling the moulds all day, and at night read by myself." So Benjamin Franklin spent two years of his life, between the ages of ten and twelve, in making candles for the good people of Boston.
[Illustration: FRANKLIN MAKING CANDLES.]
The candles gave but a poor light compared with the lights which we have to-day. The combustion was only partial, and there was constant trouble from the necessity of "snuffing the candle," that is, cutting off the burnt wick. In those days, in every well-regulated house, on the little centre-table stood the candlestick, and by its side upon a small tray made for the purpose could always be found the "snuffers"--a singular instrument, something like a pair of scissors, with a small semi-circular pocket in which to hold the snuff taken from the candle.
[Illustration: READING BY CANDLELIGHT.]
Let us imagine an early New England family on a winter's evening sitting before the blazing fire of the open fireplace. They are gathered around a small table upon which is a solitary candle, giving a feeble, sickly flame. By its light the mother is sewing and the father is reading from the Bible, The Pilgrim's Progress, or it may be Bacon's Essays, or Locke on the Understanding. The children are listening and trying to get interested in what is being read to them, while occasionally one or another of them snuffs the little candle. By and by the candle burns down "to the socket," and goes out. The mother rises and goes to the pantry to get another, but finds to her dismay that she has used her last one. The family must therefore see by the light of the fire or retire for the night, and to-morrow the good wife must dip some more candles.
When the children go to bed they have no brightly burning lamp to light them to their several bedrooms, but they climb the ladder to the open, unfinished loft with no light except what comes to them from the embers upon the hearth. Then the father covers up the coals with a great body of ashes, hoping to "keep the fire" till morning. What a marked contrast between the life of those people and the customs of to-day in the same country and among the grandchildren and the great-grandchildren of those same pioneer settlers!
In the colonial days for an evening service the churches must be lighted with candles. Occasionally you will find even now in some ancient church the antique candelabra or chandelier. Sometimes in wealthy churches these were made of glass, and were of beautiful construction. In the old meeting-house of the first Baptist church in Providence, Rhode Island, which was founded by Roger Williams and others in 1639, there is one of these ancient glass candelabras. It is of immense proportions, hanging from the ceiling by a long, stout chain, and arranged for a large number of candles. It has not been used for many years, but it is a beautiful ornament and a suggestive reminder of the method by which our ancestors lighted their churches in the early times.
In these days of brilliant electric lights, how small appears the light of the ancient candles! Have we gained in knowledge and manner of living as greatly as in heating and lighting our houses?
Chapter III.
Whale Oil.
No one knows when the whale fishery began. Eight hundred years ago whales were caught off the coast of France and Spain, and before the Pilgrim fathers landed at Plymouth the whale fishery had been carried on to such an extent on the west coast of Europe that the supply of whales had begun to fail. The American whale fishery began with the earliest settlers. They found it profitable to catch whales and try out the oil for use in their lamps. It has been said that one of the arguments for settling on Cape Cod was the presence along the coast of large whales of the best kind for oil and whalebone.
The first whale fishery in America was carried on from Cape Cod, Nantucket, and Martha's Vineyard by large rowboats. A company of hardy pioneers would row out from the coast into deep water, wait for the appearance of a whale, strike their harpoons into his side, and let him run. Sometimes it would be days before death would result. Often he would sink and later rise and float upon the surface. The fishermen would then pull him to the shore and try out the oil. Many whales thus harpooned would be lost to those who had wounded them. A story is told that in the town of Southampton, Long Island, before the year 1650, the men divided themselves into squads to watch night and day for whales that might come ashore, and this became in a few years a regular industry.
After a time whaling vessels were fitted up and sent out for the capture of whales. These vessels cruised in all waters. They coasted along Greenland and into the Arctic Ocean. They traversed the South Seas, and sailed upon the Pacific through all latitudes from Patagonia to Bering Sea. Great vessels--barks, brigs, and full-rigged ships--manned with large crews of stalwart men, with supplies for a three-years' voyage or more, would leave home for a cruise in foreign waters after these monsters of the deep.
[Illustration: WHALE FISHING.]
When the whale is killed its body is towed alongside the vessel and is made fast by the ship's chains. The fat of the whale is cut into slices, and these slices taken in between decks. This cutting up--or, as the sailors call it, "cutting in"--occupies the entire ship's company for hours. The fat or "blubber," as they call it, is cut into smaller cubical pieces, heated in a large pot, and the oil strained off. This is called "trying out." The oil is stored in casks to be conveyed home. A large whale will give two or three tons of blubber. It is estimated that a ton of blubber will yield nearly two hundred gallons of oil. Sometimes a single whale will produce oil and whalebone to the value of $3,000 or $4,000.
It will readily be seen that whale fishing is both a laborious and a dangerous occupation. The wounded whale is accustomed to strike violently with its tail in the endeavor to destroy its enemies. Here is a true story about the experiences of one family engaged in the whale fishery. Long before the year 1800 and after that date for almost half a century, New Bedford, Nantucket, Martha's Vineyard, and Provincetown in Massachusetts, with Warren and Bristol in Rhode Island, engaged very largely in this hazardous but profitable business. In one of these towns an industrious and enterprising man of more than ordinary ability followed this occupation for half a century and amassed a small fortune. He had several sons. When the oldest grew to manhood he very naturally followed in the footsteps of his father. He went to sea on a whaling vessel and was lost during his first voyage.
The second son shipped on a whaler. In the Arctic waters he was one day pursuing a whale that had already been wounded, rowing with all his might. The whale in his anger struck at the boat with his huge tail, hit the oar with which the young man was rowing, and drove the end of it into his mouth, breaking the bones and crushing in the very interior. Still the young man lived. He was tenderly cared for by his shipmates, and finally reached home. Then he was turned over to the doctors. Skillful surgery supplied him with a false lower jaw, a gold roof to his mouth, and a false palate. He lived many years and was a successful business man. Had you met him on the street he would have talked with you like any other man, and you would have observed nothing unusual except the scars of two cuts on the upper lip.
The third son when eighteen years of age also left home on a whaling voyage. At the end of three years his ship returned with a full cargo of excellent oil. The heavily freighted vessel anchored in the bay, and the captain went up to the town in a rowboat to announce his arrival, and to tell the people of the success of the voyage and that all were well on board. Just as the captain was leaving for the shore some young men in the crew, wishing to celebrate their safe return, proposed firing the ship's swivel-gun. As the captain started over the side of the vessel he cautioned them, saying that the gun was rusty and that it would not be safe to fire it. But it was our young friend's birthday. He would risk the old gun. They ran it out on deck, loaded it up, and touched it off. There was a terrific explosion. The gun burst and blew off both hands of the young man who was celebrating his birthday. Another boat was pushed off for the shore and carried the wounded man to his home. Nothing could save his hands; they were both amputated at the wrists. Through a long life he wore wooden hands covered with kid gloves. He was accustomed frequently to mourn that he had not at least one thumb. If he could have had a single thumb he could have done many things. Was it not Emerson who said that the thumb is the symbol of civilization? Man could never have attained his present position without a thumb.
For many years this man, thus maimed for life, kept a store and sold groceries and ship supplies. A visitor one day saw him weigh out for a lady customer a quarter of a pound of pepper. It was at the noon hour, when the clerks were all away at dinner. The customer came and asked for a quarter of a pound of pepper. The storekeeper pulled out the drawer, placed it on the counter, put a piece of paper in the hopper, adjusted the scale to the quarter pound, slipped one of his wooden fingers through the handle of the little tin scoop, and scattered the pepper upon the paper until the full weight was made. He then returned the drawer to its place, took off the hopper and laid it upon the counter, pulled out the paper and the pepper, doubled the paper over on one side and back from the other side, doubled over one end and then the other, picked it up between his two wooden hands, and handed it to the customer. She placed the money on the back of his hand. With the other hand he pulled open the money drawer and tossed the money in. With both hands he took off his hat, picked up the change with his lips, placed the change upon the back of his hand, and passed it to the lady. Three unfortunate experiences in one family would seem to have been enough, so the next son never went to sea.
We may now ask what was the object of all this whale fishery? Man had made a new invention. He had not only discovered the value of whale oil as a material for furnishing artificial light, he had also invented the modern lamp. In the candle the burning material, whether tallow or something else, is solidified around the wick. The heat from the burning wick melts the tallow and the combustion gives light.
In the modern lamp the simple device of a tube or two tubes to hold the wick is all that is needed over and above those used in ancient times. Tin tubes are placed in the top of the lamp and the wicks run up through the tubes. The lamp then being filled with oil, capillary attraction will bring the oil up to the top of the wick. The lamp when lighted will burn until the supply of oil is exhausted.
The invention of this modern lamp, though very simple, has been of great value. At first it was made of metal--lead, block tin, Britannia, brass--and finally of glass. Lamps of various patterns and different sizes became common. For a long while very little change was made in this new mode of obtaining light. This method continued in common use until about the middle of the nineteenth century.
Chapter IV.
Kerosene.
It was a long step from the smoky and ill-smelling whale-oil lamp to the clear and brilliant kerosene burner. At the present time the best illumination is furnished by gas and electricity, but in the country and to a large extent in the cities the kerosene lamp is still in common use, and doubtless will remain so for a long time to come. This lamp with its recent important improvements is mainly of American origin and development.
Kerosene for lighting purposes has some advantages over gas or electricity. The light produced from it is steady; therefore it is less harmful to the eyes than the flickering light of illuminating gas, and even better than the electric light. It is far cheaper than either. It has a third advantage, since it can be used in a hand lamp which can be carried from place to place. A large portion of our population consider it so valuable that they would rather give up the gaslight altogether, or indeed the electric light, than be obliged to lose the kerosene lamp.
Kerosene is a form of petroleum which is obtained from the earth by deep wells. It is only within the last fifty years that this oil has been pumped in sufficient quantities to make it a valuable industry, though petroleum was obtained here and there in small quantities far back in the early ages. It seems a little singular that the people of Japan and Persia should have dug oil wells centuries ago. Herodotus, who wrote history five hundred years before Christ, tells us of the springs of Zante, one of the Ionian Islands in the Mediterranean Sea, from which oil flowed. It is said that these springs are still flowing.
China seems to have been the first country to draw oil from artesian wells. We proud Americans are accustomed to think ourselves a little ahead of all other people. When an American boy in San Francisco, for instance, meets a Chinese lad, he is quite apt to look down upon him and to think that this little Chinese boy came from a country hardly civilized and certainly far behind the "universal Yankee nation;" yet we are constantly finding traces of a civilization in China much earlier than our own.
The first successful oil well in this country was made by Col. E. L. Drake, near Titusville, Pennsylvania. In 1854 the Pennsylvania Rock-Oil Company was organized for the purpose of procuring petroleum in Oil Creek. Four years later this company employed Colonel Drake to drill an artesian well. On the 29th of August, 1859, he "struck oil" only sixty-nine feet below the surface of the ground. The next day this well was found to be nearly full of petroleum.
Oil is now found in large quantities in various sections of Pennsylvania, New York, Indiana, and Kentucky, and it has recently been discovered in California, Wyoming, Colorado, and other portions of our land. The largest part of the oil used in commerce is from Pennsylvania. At the present time more than fifty million barrels of petroleum are produced annually in the United States alone, which is more than half of the entire product of the world. A single well has been known to yield forty thousand gallons a day, flowing freely without the slightest use of pumping apparatus.
The product of these wells after a time greatly diminishes and sometimes ceases altogether. In such cases it is customary to explode torpedoes at the bottom of the well. This is done by placing there several gallons of nitroglycerine with a fulminating cap on top. This cap is exploded by dropping a piece of iron upon it. The explosion opens the seams and crevices around the bottom of the well so as to renew the flow of oil.
[Illustration: OIL WELLS.]
It is now about forty years since the first introduction of kerosene as an article of commerce. To-day it is in almost universal use throughout the civilized world. It gives a convenient light at a moderate expense, and has therefore proved a great blessing to mankind. Meantime the whale fishery has largely diminished; indeed, it would seem to be almost destroyed. The reasons for this are not difficult to find. In the first place, the number of whales is much less than formerly, so that this business is far less profitable than it used to be. In the second place, the rapid development of the kerosene industry has so cheapened the product that people cannot afford to light their houses with whale oil, especially as they find the kerosene not only cheaper, but more convenient and satisfactory.
Common whale oil previous to 1850 had been furnished at an average cost of perhaps fifty cents a gallon, while the sperm oil, which is of superior quality, cost as much as one dollar a gallon. The people of the whole country east of the Rocky Mountains feed their lamps to-day with kerosene at a cost of from eight cents to twelve cents a gallon.
A few persons have made great fortunes from the oil wells. On the other hand, it should not be forgotten that the modern processes of purifying kerosene could not have been put in operation without the aid of large fortunes. A cheap and satisfactory light has been furnished to all the people of the United States only by means of the great capital employed in its production.
So you see civilization is progressing, and we are all enjoying more blessings and conveniences than our fathers had. In the earlier times every one had to labor diligently to secure food, clothing, and shelter. As civilization advances these require less time and expense, and we have greater opportunities to attend to the development of our higher natures, the acquisition of knowledge, the pursuit of science, and the elevation of the race.
Chapter V.
Illuminating Gas.
Thus far our various methods of artificial lighting have been very simple. At first men burned the pitch from the pine, and it produced a flame; then they burned olive oil through a wick, and it gave forth a flame. The tallow in the candle was burned through a wick, and it made a light; the whale oil in the lamp was burned by means of a wick, and a light was the result. In the same way refined petroleum, which we call kerosene, was burned by means of a wick, and that gave a strong light. These methods of lighting were all very similar.
We come now to a real invention. What would a boy of the year 1800, could he return to the earth, say to see you strike a match, turn a stopcock, and light the gas as you do to-day? He has never seen a match. He is just as ignorant of a stopcock, and surely it would be difficult for him to understand the burning of the gas. Many things would need to be explained to this boy of a hundred years ago. He must be told all about the production of illuminating gas, the storing of that gas under pressure, the transportation of it to the place where the light is wanted, and the proper apparatus for turning it on, setting it on fire, and regulating its pressure so as to produce a steady, uniform light.
Before the year 1700 Dr. John Clayton, an Englishman, prepared gas from bituminous coal, collected it, and burned it for the amusement of his friends. An English bishop in 1767 showed how gas could be produced from coal and how it might be conveyed in tubes. These were the first two steps toward our present almost universal illumination by gas: making gas and conveying it in tubes.
The real inventor of practical gas-lighting was William Murdoch, of Cornwall, England, who sometime before the year 1800 carried pipes through his house and office, and lighted the various rooms with gas which he had made from coal. Indeed, Murdoch did more than this: he lighted with his new gas a small steam carriage in which he rode to and from his mines. In 1802 he first publicly exhibited this gas-lighting in Ayrshire, Scotland, and showed two immense flames from coal gas. Nor did he stop here, for in 1805 he succeeded in lighting some cotton mills by the same method.
In our country various experiments were made, but without any practical result until 1821, when illuminating gas was successfully manufactured and used in Baltimore. In 1827 the New York Gaslight Company introduced this new method into many houses and sold the gas to the people for lighting purposes.
That was over seventy years ago. What a change has been made within these seventy years! In cities and large towns almost every new house is piped for gas. Gas companies are formed for supplying this illuminating product to the inhabitants. Gas meters have been perfected which measure the quantity of gas, so that one pays for no more than he uses. Moreover, the towns and cities put up street lights which burn this same gas in the night, making it easy, convenient, and safe to traverse the streets at any hour.
Bituminous or soft coal is used in the manufacture of illuminating gas, as anthracite contains less of the needed materials. Gases are easily driven off from bituminous coal whenever it is heated, if air is kept from it. At the works, therefore, the coal is placed in large closed ovens, called _retorts_. These are directly over furnace fires, which are kept vigorously burning. The gases pass out of the coal and, rising, enter a series of long pipes. The coal which is left in the retorts is called coke. This process is called _distillation_.
Many substances pass off with the gas, from which it must be cleaned. Tar and ammonia become liquids when cooled, and are left behind as the gas passes through cold water. The series of iron pipes in which this process is carried on is called the _condenser_. Then the gas is carried through the _purifier_, in which all other impurities are removed.
When thoroughly purified the gas passes into the _gasometer_. This usually consists of two round iron cylinders of nearly the same size, one inside of the other. The outside cylinder has no roof; the inside has no floor. The sides of the inner one go down into a trench filled with water. Its top is held up by the gas, which comes into it from the purifier.
[Illustration: A GASOMETER.]
The roof of the inner cylinder presses down heavily upon the gas, pushing it into the large _main pipes_, which run from the gasometer through the principal streets. Smaller mains connect with these and the gas is pushed into the _service pipes_, which enter the houses. When a stopcock is opened in any house the pressure of the gasometer pushes the gas through, it may be, miles of pipes, and out through the burner, where it may be lighted.
Many houses have a simple electric-lighting attachment, so that by merely turning a stopcock the gas is turned on and by pulling a chain an electric spark sets the gas on fire, flooding the room with light.
Within a few years illuminating gas has greatly diminished in price. It costs a little more than kerosene, but it is more convenient in many ways. The danger of carrying lamps from room to room is avoided, as well as the disagreeable task of filling them. Still the gas flame is less steady than that of the kerosene lamp, and is therefore less serviceable for reading. For the poor man the kerosene light is a great blessing, while for all who can afford the extra cost the gaslight is a greater convenience.
Chapter VI.
Electric Lighting.
The electric light differs widely from all modes of artificial light previously invented. It is the latest method that man has discovered for the production of light. In its practical form this invention is quite recent. In England the arc light was produced in lecture-room experiments as early as 1802. Prof. Michael Faraday, a learned Englishman and celebrated chemist, experimented many years in electricity and magnetism in the Royal Institution at London. He continued his studies and experiments in developing the science of electricity through his whole life, but he died, an old man, before a single electric arc was seen in the streets of London.
In ancient times an invention was frequently the result of one man's efforts, but at the present time it is often quite otherwise. Many men are now engaged in the development of electric lighting. Charles Francis Brush was a farmer's boy in Ohio. He pushed himself through the Cleveland High School and graduated at the University of Michigan. He established a laboratory in Cleveland and turned his attention to the invention of apparatus for electric lighting. He was one of three or four great American inventors who successfully put into operation the dynamo and furnished electricity for the electrical lamp. This dynamo is a machine which produces electric currents by mechanical power. Brush's dynamo at the outset was so perfect and complete that for many years it has continued in regular use with but very little change.
Elihu Thomson graduated at the Central High School in Philadelphia and taught chemistry in that school. He studied with great care the subject of electricity, giving special attention to lighting. He organized the Thomson-Houston Electric Company, and has patented nearly two hundred inventions relating to electric lighting and other applications of electricity. He was also the inventor of the system of electric welding.
Among the great American inventors in electrical science is Thomas Alva Edison. He was an Ohio boy whose Scotch mother taught him to read. When he was twelve years old he was a newsboy on the Grand Trunk Railroad. Here he acquired the habit of reading. He studied chemistry and conducted chemical experiments on the train. He learned to set type, and edited and printed a newspaper in the baggage car. He was constantly noticing the telegraph stations along the road, and he soon began to study electricity.
[Illustration: EDISON'S HEROIC ACT.]
One day the little child of a station master was playing on the track just as a freight car was moving down toward him. Almost as swift as lightning itself young Edison dashed out, stepped in front of the coming car, and at the risk of his own life snatched the child from danger. In gratitude the station master, knowing the boy's interest in the telegraph, taught him how to use a machine. After that he acquired great skill in this art and operated in many sections of the country, perfecting himself in the subject.
For over twenty years he has had a large establishment, with an immense workshop and many mechanics, at Menlo Park, N. J., where he has devoted his whole attention to inventing. He has perfected his system of duplex telegraphy and invented the carbon telephone-transmitter, the phonograph, the platinum burner, and the carbon burner for the incandescent light. He has patented very many inventions, and his system of electric lighting for houses is now in general use. Edison's whole life is an interesting study for young people.
At the present time the two methods of lighting by electricity are the arc light and the incandescent light. The arc light is used for lighting large buildings like churches, halls, and railway stations, and for lighting the streets of a city. The incandescent light, or the glow-lamp as it is called in England, is in general use for lighting dwelling houses. This lamp consists of a glass bulb from which air has been excluded so that it is almost a perfect vacuum and in which is inserted a looped filament of carbon. The electricity is made to pass through this carbon wire, which is thereby heated to a white heat and thus furnishes the light. Being in a vacuum, the carbon is but slightly burned. It therefore can be subjected to this heat for a long time without breaking or wearing out.
At first Edison used a platinum wire in the little electric lamp. He wanted something better. He needed some form of bamboo or other vegetable fibre. He sent a man to explore China and Japan for bamboo. He sent another, who traveled twenty-three hundred miles up the Amazon River and finally reached the Pacific coast, searching for bamboo. He sent a third to Ceylon to spend years in a similar search. Eighty varieties of bamboo and three thousand specimens of other vegetable fibre were brought him. He tested them all; three or four were found suitable.
This system of incandescent lights has been rapidly extended within a few years. There are millions of these lights now in use in this country. They are used not only for lighting the rooms of hotels and private houses, but also for lighting steamships, railway trains, and street cars, and for nearly all indoor illumination. This light is not as cheap as kerosene or gaslight, but it is so convenient and so simple, requiring no daily care, that it is rapidly coming into use in all towns and cities.
Among its advantages may be named the four following points. Matches are not needed in making a light. Thus the danger from accidental fires, which have so frequently occurred from the careless use of matches, is avoided. Very little heat results from an electric light, while from kerosene lamps and gaslight much heat is produced. In warm weather this freedom from heat is agreeable. The burning lamp and the gas jet make the air of the room impure and unfit for breathing. This is not true of the electric light. In the use of kerosene and of illuminating gas there is frequently danger of explosion. Not so with the electric light.
It will be seen that we are thus using to-day for lighting purposes occasionally the candle, quite largely the kerosene lamp, and to a great extent in towns and cities the gaslight, and best of all--the cleanest, the neatest, giving the brightest light, requiring the least attention from the consumer, and manifesting the highest development of man's inventive genius thus far--the electric light. Here at present man's invention in this direction has stopped. What the next step will be, no one can tell.
Slowly through the ages man has been developing. Gradually he has grown in mental power and advanced morally and spiritually. It is very clear that although he is an animal and has the nature and desires of an animal, he has high mental capacity and is endowed with a spiritual nature, a soul. At the very beginning of creation we are told, "God said, Let there be light: and there was light." How and whence it came we cannot tell. It would almost seem that man in his effort to create light has kept step with his own development. The first light was produced from the simplest substances, solids: wood on the hearth, the pitch-pine knot, and the candle. Then followed light produced from liquids: olive oil, whale oil, refined petroleum. Afterward the inventive genius of man extracted from coal an invisible gas which would burn and give a bright, clear light. Rising higher and higher, man soars above all solids, liquids, and gases, and with a sudden bound leaps almost out of the realm of matter and produces the electric light, which is merely a form of motion. How clearly the progress of man, his elevation, his civilization, his increased conveniences and luxuries of life are made to appear in this study of his methods of obtaining artificial light!
Chapter VII.
Lighthouses.
We have seen that artificial light is needed at night not only in houses, churches, and public halls, but also in the streets of large towns and cities for the benefit of those who have occasion to travel after dark. Still further, it has been found necessary to light the shores of the great sea, so that vessels may not run upon the rocks in the darkness and be stove to pieces.
The building of lighthouses has chiefly developed during the present century, although a few lighthouses were known to the ancients. The full history of lighthouses, if we could trace it, would be very interesting. If you were asked where the first lighthouse was built you would be quite likely to guess right the first time, because you know that the first ships and the first sailors were around the eastern part of the Mediterranean Sea. You would certainly say somewhere along the eastern coast of that sea. Now as a matter of fact there was a lighthouse on the island of Pharos, just in front of the city of Alexandria, which was built over three hundred years before Christ. This was one of the most celebrated towers of antiquity; in fact, it is classed among the Seven Wonders of the World. It is quite likely, however, that this was not the first lighthouse. Probably there were towers on the Dardanelles, the Sea of Marmora, and the Bosphorus which may have preceded the Pharos of Alexandria.
The Romans built lighthouses at Ostia, Ravenna, Puteoli, and other ports. All these ancient lighthouses were towers on the top of which wood was burned at night, and the blaze of the burning wood furnished the light which was to guide the mariner.
Two or three centuries ago many lighthouses were built along the shores of France and England. The first lighthouse on the coast of our country was Boston Light, at the entrance to Boston harbor, which was erected in the year 1716. Ever since the United States government has been established, much attention has been paid to our system of lighthouses. In 1852 a lighthouse board was established within the department of the United States Treasury.
Great skill and engineering ability are needed in the construction of lighthouses. Our country has long Atlantic, Pacific, and lake coasts to be protected, besides numerous rivers extending over thousands of miles. All along these coasts and rivers our government has established and maintains lighthouses. We have nearly a thousand lights on the Atlantic coast, nearly two hundred upon the Pacific, and several hundred along the shores of the Northern Lakes. The United States has also many fog signals and almost innumerable buoys. Great sums of money are necessary to build these lighthouses, many of which are now of iron. Twelve of our most famous lighthouses have cost a total sum of upward of $3,000,000 for their construction. Each year witnesses a steady improvement in the method of construction and of lighting this multitude of lighthouses.
At first, fires burning at the tops of lighthouses were the only signals and guides at night. Then came the use of oil in lamps, with reflectors constructed for the purpose. At first in this country fish oil was used, and after that sperm oil. Within the last ten years refined petroleum has been almost universally adopted for lighthouses in the United States. At present about a million gallons are used in a year. We have only a few electric lights, though two are now in use on the Atlantic coast and two or three upon the lakes.
In late years commerce has been rapidly extended. The merchant marine of the nations has grown to gigantic proportions. The amount of travel not only coastwise but across the ocean for pleasure and profit has become enormous. The nations are coming closer together and becoming better acquainted with each other. All this promotes civilization, and will ere long, it is to be hoped, operate to prevent international wars.
England has many famous lighthouses. Great Britain is an island and her coast shows a continuous series of indentations. Perhaps the most famous of her lighthouses is the Eddystone Light, a few miles off from Plymouth.
If you will look on your map of Great Britain you will find that the county of Northumberland is the extreme northern end of England, bordering on the North Sea and adjoining the southeast corner of Scotland. Off that coast you will see a little group of islands called the Farne Islands. At low tide there are twenty-five of them. On one of these little islands, early in the present century, stood the Longstone Lighthouse. It was a solitary place, and sometimes weeks would pass without any communication with the mainland. The keeper of this light was William Darling, a man of intelligence, who gave a fair education to each of his large family of children. One of these was a daughter whose name was Grace. Think what the youth of an intelligent girl would be on one of the Farne Islands. They are extremely desolate, are covered with rocks, and have very little vegetation and very little animal life except sea fowl.
Through the channels between these islands the sea rushes with great force, and many a brave ship has gone down, dashed to pieces upon the rocks. In 1838 a large steamer named the _Forfarshire_ struck these rocks and was broken in two within sight of Longstone Lighthouse. This steamer had on board more than forty passengers and twenty officers and crew. Three persons only were in the lighthouse--Mr. Darling, his wife, and Grace. The storm was furious, the sea was running high, and through the mist, with the aid of his glass, Mr. Darling could make out the figures of the sufferers who were still clinging to the broken vessel. The lighthouse-keeper shrank from attempting their rescue, but Grace insisted that they must make the effort to save them from certain death. Even the launching of the boat was extremely hazardous. The old lighthouse-keeper thought it impossible, but he could not resist the pleadings of his daughter. The mother helped to launch the boat; the father and daughter entered it and each took an oar. It was a terrible undertaking to row the frail boat, and it required not only great muscular power but the most determined courage.
The rescuers succeeded in reaching the rocks, but found great difficulty in steadying the boat to prevent it from being destroyed on the sharp ridges. There were nine persons clinging to the broken vessel. These nine were all rescued. By tremendous energy, great skill, and almost superhuman efforts they were rowed back to the lighthouse in safety.
This heroic deed of a young woman scarcely twenty-three years of age was heralded abroad until she became well known all over Europe, and the lonely lighthouse was soon the centre of attraction to thousands of curious and sympathizing persons. The Humane Society sent her a most flattering vote of thanks, and a public subscription was raised amounting to about thirty-five hundred dollars. Testimonials of all kinds were showered upon her, which produced in her mind only a sense of wonder and grateful pleasure.
[Illustration: GRACE DARLING.]
This brief outline of Grace Darling is here given because her heroism served to call the attention of the world to the importance of lighthouses and the isolated life of the keepers and their families. You will find a picturesque account of the life of Grace Darling in the first volume of Chambers's "Miscellany." This story does not stand alone in lighthouse annals, but again and again has it been matched in later times and in our own country.
One of the most famous lighthouse heroines in America was Miss Ida Lewis, whose father kept the Limestone Lighthouse at the entrance to the harbor of Newport, R. I. This lighthouse-keeper's daughter very early in life became skilled in rowing and swimming. One day, when she was eighteen years of age, four young men were upset in a boat in the harbor. Ida quickly launched her own skiff, pushed off, rescued them, and brought them safely to shore.
At another time three drunken soldiers had stove a hole in their boat not far from the lighthouse. Two swam ashore and Ida reached their boat in season to save the third. Two years afterward a sheep was being driven down the wharf when the animal plunged into the water. Three men running along the shore in pursuit found a boat and pushed out after the sheep. A heavy "sou'wester" was blowing and the boat was carried away into deep water. Ida Lewis, in spite of the high wind, rowed out in her little skiff and brought them safely ashore.
One winter a young scapegrace stole a sailboat from the wharf and put out to sea. About midnight the gale drove the boat upon the Limestone rocks a mile from the light, but the boy clung to the mast all night. In the morning Ida Lewis found him, as she said, "shaking and God-blessing me and praying to be set on shore." By these and other instances in which Miss Lewis rescued those in danger she became famous, and her praises were heralded in the newspapers and spoken at many firesides. The citizens of Newport presented her with a boat as a token of their admiration of her bravery.
These famous instances and many more that could be added to them would seem to indicate that life in a lighthouse, with the mind constantly running out to the sea, becoming familiar with the storms that rise, and observing the dash of the waves and the roar of the wind--life inured to hardship, but shut up within the safe keeping of the solid walls of the little tower high above the raging waves--it would seem that such a life is calculated to give courage, strength, and fortitude, and to endue the heart with a heroic forgetfulness of self.
How important is the position of a lighthouse-keeper! Many lives are in his hands, and on his fidelity depends the safety of millions of dollars of property. Boats and ships of all kinds, steamers great and small, sail away from one shore of the vast sea to the opposite shore, or along the coast, all in comparative safety because of the various beacon lights.
Indeed, is not the lighthouse itself a great lesson in morals? Every one of us--every one of the seventy million people of the United States has a part in the lighthouse. It is we, the people, who are furnishing the government with its resources, and it is the great government of our country that builds the lighthouses to warn mariners of danger. The modern lighthouse is the symbol of benevolence. It carries with it the lesson of "loving thy neighbor as thyself." This is the lesson of the lighthouse to the people of the land, though its service is performed for the people of the sea.
[Illustration: CYRUS H. McCORMICK.]
[Illustration: CUTTING SUGAR CANE IN THE HAWAIIAN ISLANDS.]
Section III.--Food.
Chapter I.
Uncultivated Foods.
Heat and light--each is necessary for our bodily comfort and well-being. We have seen that much time and thought have been spent during the past three hundred years in providing the most satisfactory methods for heating and lighting our houses. We have found that wood and coal in our fireplaces, stoves, and furnaces have given us the best heat. We have learned that kerosene and gas made from coal are the most common sources of light. Even electricity, the latest means for producing light and heat, usually needs the power of steam for its development; and heat is necessary to produce steam. We have a common name for the wood, the coal, the gas, and the oil, from the burning of which heat and light result; this name is fuel.
Another form of fuel is even more necessary than coal and wood. In the winter we warm our rooms so that we may not suffer from the cold; but the stove does not warm us when out of doors. Then we put on our heavy winter wraps, but these give us no warmth: they merely keep in the heat of the body or keep out the cold blasts of the wind. We all know that the body is warm of itself; that there is something within us that produces heat, like a fire. When our fingers become chilled by the frosty air we may warm them with our breath. The temperature of a room may be seventy degrees or less, but if we place the bulb of a thermometer beneath the tongue we shall find that the mercury rises to ninety-eight degrees.
The fire in the body and the fire in the stove act very much alike. If the draughts of the stove are closed tight and no air is admitted, the fire dies down and goes out. If the air which enters the body is foul, the fire feels the effect and our health is injured. If the lungs are filled with water or anything else which keeps out the air, the fire goes out and life is lost.
The fuel which we call food is just as necessary for the fire in our body as is wood or coal for the fire in the stove. Three times a day or oftener we take this food-fuel into our bodies; thus we keep the fire steadily burning which makes us warm and keeps us alive.
On the other hand, fuel for the body must be very different from fuel for a stove. In the stove heat alone is wanted; therefore one form of fuel is enough. In the body bones must be enlarged and strengthened, muscles must be developed, fat must be provided in sufficient quantities, and brain-matter must be produced. Therefore the food-fuel must provide not only heat but also the different materials of which the body is made. One kind of food is necessary for the bones, another for the blood, another for the flesh, and another for the nerves. Thus while in studying common fuel we have only to learn about wood, either in the form of trees or pressed into the form of coal, in studying food-fuel we find that the kinds are almost numberless. Meat and vegetables, fish and fruit, roots and nuts, in their infinite varieties, are all included in the word food.
We are told that all matter belongs to one of three kingdoms--the animal, the vegetable, and the mineral kingdoms. From two of these three divisions we obtain most of our food. Food may be divided into two classes then--animal food and vegetable food. In animal food we have the meat of wild animals and of domestic animals. In early days, when the number of people was small, the supply of wild animals was large. A great part of the food in those days was obtained by hunting and fishing. To-day most of the meat comes from domestic animals, so that the keeping of herds and flocks is one of the great industries of the time. Fish are still important in our lists of foods, but the flesh of wild animals is less and less used for meat.
Three hundred years ago the Indians had this country to themselves. They were few in number and were scattered over a vast territory. The forests abounded in wild game and the lakes and rivers were filled with fish. Love of hunting and fishing held the first place in the pleasures of the red man. The hunting grounds extended far and wide in every direction. Each tribe had its own hunting and fishing grounds, and it was considered an act of war for any tribe of Indians to encroach upon the territory of other tribes.
"Such places as they chose for their abode," says Hubbard's History, "were usually at the falls of great rivers, or near the seaside, where was any convenience for catching such fish as every summer and winter used to come up the coast. At such times they used, like good fellows, to make all common, and then those who had entertained their neighbors at the seaside expected the like kindness from them again up higher in the country."
The kinds of wild animals that the Indians hunted were very numerous. One man describes the appearance of an Indian's "room of skins." He says: "There they showed me many hides and horns, both beasts of chase of the stinking foot--such as roes, foxes, jackals, wolves, wildcats, raccoons, porcupines, skunks, muskrats, squirrels, and sables--and beasts of chase of the sweet foot--buck, red deer, reindeer, moose, bear, beaver, otter, hare, and martin." Captain John Smith tells of the fowl that the red men hunted. He mentions eagles, hawks, cranes, geese, ducks, sheldrakes, teal, gulls, and turkeys.
[Illustration: INDIANS HUNTING GAME.]
The variety of fish caught by the Indians was also very large. "Higher up at the falls of the great rivers they used to take salmon, shad, and alewives, that used in great quantities, more than cartloads, in the spring, to pass up into the fresh-water ponds and lakes." "In March, April, May, and half June," says John Smith, "here is cod in abundance; in May, June, July, and August, mullet and sturgeon; herring, if any desire them; I have taken many." Again he writes of whales, grampuses, hake, haddock, mackerel, sharks, cunners, bass, perch, eels, crabs, lobsters, mussels, and oysters.
We may also divide vegetable food into two classes--that which nature provides without the aid of man, or wild vegetables, and that which requires cultivation, or cultivated vegetables. Many forms of nuts, berries and fruits, and some forms of common ground vegetables grow wild. The red men found these in great abundance.
John Smith found in New England currants, mulberries, gooseberries, plums, walnuts, chestnuts, and strawberries, besides other fruits of which he did not know the names. He made a journey up the Potomac River, and reported that the hills yielded no less plenty and variety of fruit than the river furnished abundance of fish.
Smith also described acorns whose bark was white and sweetish; he added that these acorns, when boiled, afforded a sweet oil that the red men kept in gourds to anoint their heads and joints. The Indians also ate the fruit of this acorn, made into bread. There were plums of three kinds and cherries. Smith discovered also a great abundance of vines "that climb the tops of the highest trees in some places. Where they are not overshadowed from the sun, they are covered with fruit, though never pruned nor manured."
Hunting and fishing are carried on in much the same way to-day as they were centuries ago. The gun has taken the place of the bow and arrow, and fishing implements have been somewhat improved. But to capture and kill is now, as formerly, all that is needed to obtain this form of food, if the wild animals themselves can be found. Wild vegetables may be gathered to-day in just the way that our ancestors gathered them, though they are not found in so great quantities because of the increase of cultivation. In studying the changes in the modes of living that have occurred in this country during the last three hundred years, we find that almost all the improvements in the production of food have been in the planting, cultivating, and harvesting of food, and the bringing it to market.
Chapter II.
Cultivated Foods.
Hunting and fishing did not furnish either sufficient or satisfactory food for the Indians. A portion of their time was spent in cultivating certain products of the soil. Black Hawk, a famous Indian chief, writes: "When we returned to our village in the spring from our hunting grounds we would open the caches and take out corn and other provisions which had been put up in the fall, and then commence repairing our lodges. As soon as this is accomplished we repair the fences around our fields and clean them off ready for planting corn. This work is done by our women. The men, during this time, are feasting on dried venison, bear's meat, wild fowl and corn.
[Illustration: THE CORN DANCE.]
"Our women plant the corn, and as soon as they get done we make a feast and dance the corn dance. At this feast our young braves select the young woman they wish to have for a wife. When this is over we feast again and have our national dance.
"When our national dance is over, our corn-fields hoed, and every weed dug up, and our corn about knee high, all our young men would start in a direction toward sundown to hunt deer and buffalo, and the remainder of our people start to fish. Every one leaves the village and remains away about forty days. They then return, the hunting party bringing in dried buffalo and deer meat, the others dried fish.
"This is a happy season of the year; having plenty of provision, such as beans, squashes, and other produce, with our dried meat and fish, we continue to make feasts and visit each other until our corn is ripe.
"When the corn is fit for use another great ceremony takes place, with feasting and returning thanks to the Great Spirit for giving us corn. We continue our sport and feasting until the corn is all secured. We then prepare to leave our village for our hunting grounds."
Thus we see that the most important crop among the Indians was maize or Indian corn. This grain is specially suited to the climate and soil of a large portion of the country; it was wholly unknown to the Europeans who first came to America.
John Smith in Virginia and Roger Williams in New England were much interested in the Indian corn. It is from their writings that we learn how the red men cultivated and used this strange product of the New World.
As corn was the Indians' main dependence, they ate it at all times and in various ways. They roasted the green ears in the ashes; sometimes they cut the kernels from the cob and boiled them with beans, making a kind of succotash. Meal was made by pounding the kernels in a wooden mortar; if the corn was old it was soaked over night and pounded in the morning.
This meal also was cooked in different ways. Sometimes it was wrapped in corn husks and boiled; at other times it was mixed with water and made into cakes, which were baked in the ashes of the fire. Often a pudding was made from the meal, in which blackberries were placed. When the Indians travelled, they were accustomed to carry enough of this meal to last several days, either in a small basket or a hollow leathern girdle.
Such was life among the Indians. Usually food was plenty and feasting was common, but at times food was scarce and fasting was necessary. If the Indian had sufficient for to-day, he cared little for to-morrow. If the corn crop failed or if the hunting expedition turned out badly, the red man accepted it as a necessary evil and made no complaint.
[Illustration: CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH.
(From the history of Virginia, by Captain John Smith.)]
The first Englishmen to learn of the foods that could be obtained in the New World were two captains sent out by Sir Walter Raleigh to explore the Atlantic coast of America. They returned full of enthusiasm for the fertile soil and the delightful climate of Virginia. They praised also the kindness of the Indians, who provided them with the best of food--deer, hares, fish, walnuts, melons, cucumbers, peas, and corn.
Apparently there was an abundance of food in the New World--flesh, fish, fruits, nuts, vegetables, and grain. The sailors were not farmers, however; nor were the colonists who came over the next year. They had no knowledge of the labor necessary to till the soil and raise the food, and after a year on Roanoke Island they returned to England.
Twenty years later the colonists at Jamestown were no more ready to labor at farming than those at Roanoke had been. Numbers died from hunger during the first summer, but the leader, John Smith, was able, from his own strength of character, to hold survivors to the work until a fair abundance of corn had been obtained. Meanwhile Smith managed to buy or borrow provisions from the Indians.
The settlers at Plymouth arrived in early winter and found a climate much colder than that of England or Holland. They could not hope to harvest a crop before the next autumn, and they also were dependent upon the red men for many months.
Soon after the _Mayflower_ arrived in Provincetown harbor an expedition was sent out to search for the best spot to build a village. They followed the tracks of Indians, but could not find them nor their dwellings. The first sign of human life was a piece of clear ground which had been planted some years before. Going a little farther they found a field in which the stubble was new, showing that the ground had been recently cultivated. Finally they came upon "heaps of sand newly paddled with their hands." Led by curiosity the Pilgrims digged in these places and found several baskets filled with corn. This grain seemed to the Pilgrims a "very goodly sight," though they had never seen corn before. They carried the grain back to the ship, and when the Indians who owned the corn were found, the Pilgrims gladly paid them its full value.
When spring came the colonists at Plymouth began making preparations for planting. An Indian, named Squanto, who had previously been carried to England and had learned to speak some English, showed himself very friendly. He taught them how to prepare the fish which must be put in every hill for a fertilizer. He directed the planting and cultivating of the fields. As a result they had "a good increase." They were not so successful in other ways, for their barley crop was very light and their peas dried up with the sun.
A curious story is found in some old records. The dogs in a Plymouth colony town caused the farmers great trouble by digging up the alewives which they were accustomed to place in the hills. Therefore a law was passed that required the owner of every dog either to keep him securely tied for forty days after the fields were prepared, or to tie a forepaw to his head so that it would be impossible for the dog to dig in the newly prepared hill.
Two years later the Pilgrims are said to have had nearly sixty acres of ground well planted with corn, and many gardens filled with fruits and vegetables. However, the crop was light, mainly because the colonists had been too weak, from lack of food, properly to attend to it. A famine would have followed for the third time had not a vessel arrived from England, in August, bringing provisions sufficient for the winter.
For several years the Pilgrims were compelled to live partly upon wild game and fish. One summer their main support was obtained by the use of the only boat that remained, with which they caught large quantities of bass. They also obtained clams when they could not get fish, used ground-nuts in place of bread, and caught many wild fowl in the creeks and marshes.
The colonists had no milk, butter, nor cheese for the first three years in Plymouth. There were no domestic animals in New England until, in the spring of 1623, a vessel arrived bringing the first cows. In time beef and veal were ad
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