1. Wire—eighteen strands, seven to an inch.
2. Six strands of yarn.
3. Gutta percha, three coats.
4. Conducting wires, seven in number.
5. Section of the cable, eleven-sixteenths of an inch in diameter.

The flexibility of this cable is so great that it may be tied in a knot round the arm without injury. Its weight is eighteen hundred and sixty pounds to the mile, and its strength such that six miles of it may be suspended vertically in water of that depth without breaking.

"The sea is smooth,"—we quote the extremely interesting journal of an eye-witness[3], writing upon the first day,—"the barometer well up; and, if we can only do for the next seven days as well as we have done since one o'clock, we shall be at Newfoundland by the 5th of August, and in New York some time between the 15th and 20th of the same month. But we have been somewhat too hasty in our calculations, for our ship has just slowed down, and the propeller has ceased working for the last ten minutes. There must be something wrong to cause this interruption. Let us take a look at the machine. The cable still goes out, which certainly would not be the case if it had parted. Ah! the continuity! That's it: there's where the difficulty lies; and, as the electricians are the only parties who can inform us on that point, we at once go in search of them. A visit to their office explains the whole matter. The continuity is not gone altogether, but is defective,—so defective that it is impossible to get a signal through the cable. Still, there is not 'dead earth' upon it, and all hope, therefore, is not lost. When dead earth, as it is termed, is on the conductor, then, indeed, the difficulty is beyond remedy; for it shows that the conductor must be broken and is thrown under the influence of terrestrial magnetism. But the continuity is not gone; and, although with darkening prospects, we are still safe while it remains, imperfect as it is. It would be absurd to say that the occurrence was not discouraging: it was painfully so; for the hopes of some of us had really begun to revive, and we were gaining confidence every hour. Now nothing could be done. We must wait until the continuity should return or take its final departure. And it did return, and with greater strength than ever. At ten minutes past nine p.m., the electrician on duty observed its failing, and at half-past eleven he had the gratifying intelligence for us that it was 'all right again.' The machinery was once more set in motion, the cable was soon going out at the rate of six miles an hour, and the electrical signals were passing between the ships as regularly as if nothing had occurred to interfere with or interrupt the continuity."

The change of the wire from the forward main-deck coil to that on the deck immediately below, on the third day, is thus described, the operation being a most delicate and perilous one:—"At least an hour before the change was made, the outer boundaries of the circle in which the cable lay was literally crowded with men; and never was greater interest manifested in any spectacle than that which they exhibited in the proceedings before them. There were serious doubts and misgivings as to the successful performance of this important part of the work; and these only served to increase the feeling of anxiety and suspense with which they silently and breathlessly await the critical moment. The last flake has been reached, and as turn after turn leaves the circle every eye is intently fixed on the cable. Now there are but thirty turns remaining; and, as the first of these is unwound, Mr. Everett, who has been in the circle during the last half-hour, gives the order to the engineer on duty to 'slow down.' In a few moments there is a perceptible diminution in the speed, which continues diminishing till it has reached the rate of about two miles an hour.

"'Look out now, men,' says Mr. Everett, in his usual quiet, self-possessed way. The men are as thoroughly wide-awake as they can be, and are waiting eagerly for the moment when they shall lift the bight, or bend, of the cable and deliver it out safely. One of the planks in the side of the cone has been loosened, and, just as they are about taking the cable in their hands, it is removed altogether; so that, as the last yard passes out of the now empty circle, the line commences paying out from the circle below, or the 'orlop' deck, as it is called. The men—who are no other than the coilers, or 'Knights of the Black Hand,' as they have not inappropriately been termed—have done their work well; and the applause with which they have been greeted by the crowd of admiring spectators is the most gratifying testimony they can receive of the fact. They have hardly passed the cable out of the circle before they are received with as enthusiastic a demonstration of approval as the rules of the navy will permit.

"Confidence is growing stronger,"—this is the fourth day,—"and there is considerable speculation as to the time we shall reach Newfoundland. The pilot who is to bring us into Trinity Bay is now in great repute, and is becoming a more important personage every day. We are really beginning to have strong hopes that his services will be called into requisition and that in the course of a few days more we will be in sight of land. But the sea is not at all so smooth as it was the day before: it is, in fact, so rough as to favor the belief that there must have been a severe gale a short time since in these latitudes. The condition of the vessel is such as to alarm us greatly for the safety of the cable should it come on to blow very hard, as the large amount already paid out and the quantity of coal consumed have lightened her so much as to render her rather uneasy in a heavy sea. The wind is increasing, and, although it has not yet attained the magnitude of a gale, it is blowing rather fresh for us in the present unsettled state of our minds. Both wind and sea are nearly abeam; and the rolling motion which the latter creates brings a strain upon the cable which gives rise to the most unpleasant feelings. The sea, too, seems to be getting worse every minute, and strikes the slender wire with all its force. Every surge of the ship affects it; and as it cuts through each wave it makes a small white line of foam to mark its track. The sight of that thread-like wire battling with the sea produces a feeling somewhat akin to that with which you would watch the struggles of a drowning man whom you have not the power of assisting. You can only look on and trust either that the sea will go down or that the cable may be able to resist the force of the waves successfully. Of the former there is very little prospect, but of the latter there is every reason for hope. The contest has been going on now for several hours, and there is no more sign of the cable parting than when it commenced. The electricians report the continuity perfect; and the signals which are received at intervals from the Agamemnon show that that vessel is getting along with her part of the work in admirable style. What more can we desire?"

An incident occurring upon the fifth day is thus described:—"I have said that, despite the bad weather and heavy sea, the paying-out process was going on well; but during the night the continuity was again affected; and although it was restored and became as strong as ever, yet it was for about three hours a very unpleasant affair. It was subsequently found that the difficulty was caused by a defect of insulation in a part of the wardroom coil, which was cut out in time to prevent any serious consequences. There were only a few on board the ship, however, aware of the occurrence until after the defect was removed and the electrical communication was re-established between the two ships. Both Mr. Laws and Mr. De Santy—the two electricians on the Niagara—were of the opinion that the insulation was broken in some part of the wardroom coil; and, on using the tests for the purpose of ascertaining the precise point, they found that it was about sixty miles from the bottom of that coil, and between three or four hundred from the part which was then paying out. The cable was immediately cut at this point and spliced to a deck coil of ninety miles, which it was intended to reserve for laying in shallow water and was therefore kept for Trinity Bay. About four o'clock in the morning the continuity was finally restored, and all was going on as well as if nothing had occurred to disturb the confidence we felt in the success of the expedition."

Upon the sixth day—the 3d of August, the anniversary of the day upon which Columbus sailed from Palos—the great work took place of the change from "the fore-hold coil to that in the wardroom, which are at least two hundred feet apart. This occurred at eight o'clock in the morning; and, as the time was known to all on board, there was even a larger crowd assembled to witness it than I observed at any of the other changes. It was considered a most critical time; and, although the operation turned out to be very simple, it was anticipated by some with considerable uneasiness. The splice between the two coils had been made some hours in advance, and men were stationed all along the line of its course from the hold to the wardroom. Mr. Everett and Mr. Woodhouse were both on hand; the best men had been picked out to pass up the bight, when the last turn should be reached; and one man, named Henry Paine, a splicer, was specially appointed to walk forward with the bight to the after or wardroom coil. As the last flake was about to be paid out the ship was slowed down, and by the time the last three or four turns came to be paid out she could hardly be said to be moving through the water. The line came up more slowly from the hold, until we were nearing the bight, where it could not have been going out faster than half a mile an hour. One more turn and the bight comes up. There is not a sound to be heard from the crowd who are watching it with eager and anxious faces from every point of view. No one speaks, or has ventured to speak for the last minute, except the engineers, and they have very little to say, for their orders are conveyed in the most laconic style; and the quick 'ay, ay!' of the men show that they understand the full value of time. 'Now, men,' says Mr. Everett, 'look out for the bight,' as those in the hold hand it up to the men on the orlop deck, and it is passed from hand to hand till it reaches the platform and long passage which has been built upon the spar-deck for this part of the work. Here the bight arrives at last, and Paine takes it in his hand, paying out as he follows the line of the cable to the wardroom coil. How anxiously the men watch him as he walks that terrible distance of two hundred feet, and think that if he should happen to trip or stumble while he holds that bight in his hand the great enterprise may end in disaster! It is not a difficult task; but how often have things that are so easily performed been defeated by want of coolness! There is, however, such an easy self-possession about the man, as he comes slowly aft with the long black line, that inspires confidence. All hands have deserted the decks below, and follow him as he walks aft, and one, in his impatience to get a glimpse of him, has nearly fallen through the skylight of the engine-room, in which he has smashed several panes of glass in the effort to save himself. 'Pick up the pieces,' says Paine, in a vein of quiet humor, as he proceeds on his course without interruption, and, coming up to the wheel, which is immediately above the wardroom, he straightens the bight, and the cable begins to run out from the top of the coil on the deck beneath. His work is done; and, as the line passes out of his hands, he receives a round of applause from the hands of the spectators, who, but for those terrible navy rules, would have greeted him with a cheer that would have done his heart good. As it is, they must give vent to their feelings in some way; and the exclamations of 'Well done!' 'That's the fellow!' 'Good boy, Paine!' are not a bad compromise, after all. Besides, it might be rather premature at this time to indulge in any triumphant expression of feeling before we are even in sight of land."

Upon the seventh day land was discovered from the mast-head. "It is now half-past two o'clock, and we are entering Trinity Bay at a speed of seven and a half knots an hour, paying out the cable at a very slight increase on the same rate. The curve which it forms between the ship and the water proves that there is little or no strain upon it, and proves also another thing,—that it can be run out at eight, nine, and, I believe, ten miles with the greatest safety. This, however, as I have previously stated, cannot be done with old cable that has been coiled so often as to have a tendency to kink; and there is—as has been already intimated—some of this kind which we shall be obliged to pay out before landing. A signal signifying 'all well' has been received from the Agamemnon, which must now be on the point of landing her cable at Valentia Bay, Ireland, which is about sixteen hundred and forty miles from our present position."

At eight o'clock in the evening, while the Niagara was proceeding up Trinity Bay and was yet some eighteen miles distant from the landing-place, Mr. Field left the ship for the purpose of visiting the telegraph station and sending a despatch to the United States. "It was near two o'clock in the morning before he arrived at the beach; and, as it was quite dark, he had considerable difficulty in finding the path that led up to the station. There was no house in sight, and the whole scene was as dreary and as desolate as a wilderness at night could be. A silence as of the grave reigned over every thing before him; while behind, at a distance of a mile, he could see the huge hull of the Niagara looming up indistinctly through the gloom of night, and the light of the lamps on her deck making the darkness still darker and blacker by the contrast. He entered the narrow road, and after a journey of what appeared to be twenty miles he came in sight of the station, which stands about half a mile from the beach. There was, however, no sign of life there; and the house in its stillness looked strangely in unison with every thing around. It had a deserted look, as if it had long since ceased to be the habitation of man. In vain he looked for a door in the front; but there was no entrance there. He looked up at the windows, in the hope, perhaps, of being able to enter by that way; but the windows in the lower story were beyond his reach; and the house, having been partly built on piles, had the appearance of being raised on stilts. A detour of the establishment, however, led to the discovery of a door in the side; and through this he finally succeeded in effecting an entrance. The noise he made in getting in, it was natural to expect, would arouse the inmates; but there seemed either to be no inmates to arouse, or those inmates were not easily disturbed. He stopped for a moment to listen, and as he listened he heard the breathing of sleepers in an apartment near him. The door was immediately thrown open, and in a few seconds the sleepers were awake,—wide awake, and opening their eyes wider and wider as the wonderful news fell upon their astonished and delighted ears. They could hardly believe the evidence of their senses, and were bewildered at what they heard. The cable laid, when, but a few short weeks before, they had received the news of disaster and defeat, and they had looked only to the far-distant future for the accomplishment of the great work! The cable laid, and they unconscious of it!—they, who had waited and watched so many weary days and weeks for the ships they had begun to believe would never come! And they were now in the bay,—those same ships,—within a mile of them! Can they be dreaming? Dreaming! No. What they have heard is true,—all true; and there is the living witness before them.

"'What do you want?" was the exclamation of the first who was awakened, as he endeavored to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

"'I want you to get up," said Mr. Field, "and help us to take the cable ashore."

"'To take the cable ashore?" re-echoed the others, who were now just awakening, and who heard the words with a dim, dreamy idea of their meaning; 'to take the cable ashore?'

"'Yes,' said Mr. Field; 'and we want you at once.'

"They were now thoroughly aroused; and, directing Mr. Field to the bedrooms of the other sleepers,—for there were four or five others in the house,—they prepared themselves with all haste to assist in landing the cable. Mr. Field found that the telegraph office would not be open till nine o'clock that morning, and that the operator of the New York, Newfoundland, and London telegraph was absent at the time. He also ascertained that the nearest station at which he could find an operator was fifteen miles distant, and that the only way of getting there was on foot. Now, fifteen miles in Newfoundland is about equal to twice the distance in a civilized country, and is a tolerably long walk; but it was something to be the bearer of such news to a whole continent, and so two of the young men willingly volunteered for the journey, bearing with them, for transmission to New York and the whole United States, the despatch which contained the first announcement of the successful accomplishment of the work."

Upon the eighth day the cable was landed, the ships being dressed with flags in honor of the occasion. Sixty men from the Niagara, and forty from the British ships Gorgon and Porcupine, took part in this task and the attendant ceremonies. "The landing-place for the cable is a very picturesque little beach, on which a wharf has been constructed. A road, about the dimensions of a bridle-path, has been cut through the forest, and up this road, through bog and mire, you find your way to the telegraph station, about half a mile distant. Alongside of this road a trench has been dug for the cable, to preserve it from accidents to which it might otherwise be liable.

"When the boats arrived at the landing, the officers and men jumped ashore, and Mr. North, first lieutenant of the Niagara, presented Captain Hudson with the end of the cable. Captain Otter, of the Porcupine, and Commander Dayman, of the Gorgon, now took hold of it, and, all the officers and men following their example, a procession was formed along the line. The road or path over which we had to take the cable was a most primitive affair. It led up the side of a hill a couple of hundred feet high, and had been cut out of the thick forest of pines and other evergreens. In some places the turf—which is to be found here on the top of the highest mountains—was so soft with recent rains that you would sink to your ankles in it. Well, it was up this road we had to march with the cable; and a splendid time we had. It was but reasonable to suppose that the three captains who headed the procession would certainly pick out the best parts and give us the advantage of the stepping-stones; but it appeared all the same to them; and they plunged into the boggiest and dirtiest parts with a recklessness and indifference that satisfied us they were about the worst pilots we could have had on land, despite their well-known abilities as navigators.

"This memorable procession started at a quarter to six o'clock, and arrived at the telegraph station about twenty minutes after. The ascent of the hill was the worst part of the journey; but when we got to the top the scene which opened before us would have repaid us for a journey of twenty miles over a still worse road. There beneath us lay the harbor, shut in by mountains, except at the entrance from Trinity Bay; and there, too, lay the steamers of the two greatest maritime nations of the world. On every side lies an unbroken wilderness, and, if we except the telegraph station, at which we will soon arrive, not a single habitation to tell that man has ever lived here.

"Never was such a remarkable scene presented since the world began. Even now, at the very point of its realization, it does not seem as if the work in which we have been engaged has been accomplished. The continuity, however, without which the cable would be utterly valueless, is as perfect now as it ever was. Mr. Laws and Mr. De Santy, the two chief electricians who have accompanied us from England, have 'tasted' the current, and about a dozen others at the head of the procession have done the same thing. The writer himself is a witness on this point, and will never forget the singular acid taste which it had. Some received a pretty strong shock,—so strong that they willingly resigned the chance of repeating the experiment.

"On the arrival of the procession the cable is brought up to the house and the end placed in connection with the instrument. The deflection of the needle on the galvanometer gives incontrovertible evidence that the electrical condition of the cable is satisfactory. The question now is, How shall we properly celebrate the consummation of the great event? How, but by an acknowledgment to that Providence without whose favor the enterprise must have ended in disaster and defeat? Captain Hudson took up his position on a pile of boards, the officers and men standing round amid shavings, stumps of trees, pieces of broken furniture, sheets of copper, telegraph-batteries, little mounds of lime and mortar, branches of trees, huge boulders, and a long catalogue of other things equally incongruous.

"'We have,' said the captain, 'just accomplished a work which has attracted the attention and enlisted the interest of the whole world. That work,' he continued, 'has been performed not by ourselves: there has been an Almighty Hand over us and aiding us; and, without the divine assistance thus extended us, success was impossible. With this conviction firmly impressed upon our minds, it becomes our duty to acknowledge our indebtedness to that overruling Providence who holds the sea in the hollow of his hand. "Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but to thy name, be all the glory." I hope the day will never come when, in all our works, we shall refuse to acknowledge the overruling hand of a divine and almighty Power.... There are none here, I am sure, whose hearts are not overflowing with feelings of the liveliest gratitude to God in view of the great work which has been accomplished through his permission, and who are not willing to join in a prayer of thanksgiving for its successful termination. I will therefore ask you to join me in the following prayer, which is the same, with a few necessary alterations, that was offered for the laying of the cable.'"

This prayer was then offered at the throne of grace by the captain, the auditors responding at its close with an "Amen" which showed with what profound emotion they regarded the scene in which they were such prominent actors.

In regard to the voyage of the Agamemnon we find little to say which would not be a repetition of that of the Niagara, with the exception that she experienced much less favorable weather, and that the admirable paying-out machine invented by our countryman, Mr. Everett, performed its delicate duty under more trying circumstances than those to which it had been subjected on the American frigate. The Queen's Message was transmitted over the wire on the 16th of August; and, intelligence of the fact being made known the same evening throughout the Northern and Western States, the people gave themselves up to the wildest demonstrations of joy. Few persons of an age to appreciate the significance of the triumph will forget that memorable night. We have not to follow the inventors, electricians, and commanders to the land, and detail the ovations of which they were the honored objects. The public will long remember the eloquence of the orators who dilated upon the theme, the inspired language in which the newspapers held forth to their amazed subscribers, and the prophetic vein in which the clergy felt justly entitled to indulge. Fifty years from now, those who were boys on the 16th of August will tell, with undiminished interest, of the tar-barrels and bonfires, the salutes and fireworks, the illuminations and torchlight processions, which, from one end of the country to the other, welcomed the inspiring tidings and made the summer night gorgeous with flames and clamorous with artillery. The cable is at length laid through the bed of the Atlantic Ocean. Over what jagged mountain-ranges is that slender filament carried! In what deep oceanic valleys does it rest! Through what strange and unknown regions, among things how uncouth and wild, must it thread its way! Still, in spite of this first magnificent success, deep-sea telegraphing must be regarded as in its very infancy; and doubtless many new and even more marvellous feats will yet be performed claiming admission among the achievements of Man upon—or rather beneath—the Sea.

Perhaps the best among the numerous good things suggested by the happy return of the Telegraphic Fleet was the following sentiment:—"The Equator and the Cable: the former an imaginary line which divides the poles, the latter a veritable line which connects the hemispheres!"

"Far, far below oceans heaving breast,
Where the storm-spirit ever is hush'd to rest,
The cable now lies on its snowy bed,—
The glittering ashes of ocean's dead;
And storms shall not break nor tempests sever
This arch of promise, for ever and ever,
Till an angel shall stand with one foot on the sea
And swear that time no longer shall be."

The continuity of this cable was shortly afterwards broken, but it had so successfully demonstrated that it was possible to lay one that another attempt was soon organized. For this purpose the Great Eastern, which had been found too large a ship to be ordinarily used in trade, since her great depth prevented her from entering any but the very deepest harbors, was engaged. Her size enabled her easily to take in the cable for the entire distance, and, starting from Ireland, she kept up telegraphic communication with that station, without interruption, throughout the whole of the voyage. This cable has worked continouslysince that time.

Beside this, another Atlantic cable, connecting France with the American Continent, has been laid successfully and has worked without interruption. From England fifteen submarine wires, laid across the beds of the Channel or the North Sea, connect that country with France, Belgium and Holland. Sweden and Norway are connected with Germany by marine cables across the Baltic, while Sicily and Sardinia are connected with Italy by a cable in the bottom of the Mediterranean.

In Europe, in 1872, it was estimated that at an expense of about $100,000,000 more than 1,300,000 miles of telegraphic wire had been erected, and counting the double and multiple wires used on the most important lines, that a length of 621,000,000 miles had been stretched, a length sufficient to encircle the entire globe, at the equator, some twenty-five times, while the yearly increase of new lines consumed enough wire to again encircle the earth.

A telegraphic cable is also proposed from Lisbon to Rio Janeiro. France has been also connected with Algeria, and lines connecting the Eastern Mediterranean, the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean, have been laid, though they have frequently been injured.

The Pacific Ocean has also its cable connecting California with India, bringing Calcutta, San Francisco, New York, London, Vienna, Constantinople and Bagdad within a circuit measuring about 12,400 miles in length.

The cables which have been laid in the beds of oceans and seas, connecting islands, peninsulas and continents, are estimated to measure about 12,400 miles in length.

There are now three Atlantic cables connecting Europe and America. These are the Anglo-American, the New York, Newfoundland and London, and the French. Of these the French one is singular from its method of conveying intelligence. A minute mirror is placed on the needle, and a beam of light from a lamp is reflected from this upon a screen. As the current of electricity affects the needle, this light moves in curves upon the screen, and the meaning of these curves is read off by the observer, according to a prearranged code of symbols. Beside these three companies, there is a fourth proposed line, to be known as the American Atlantic, and which it is proposed to lay this coming summer, 1873.

The rates of ocean telegraphing have recently been raised, and it is found that the lines contemplate combining with each other, and forming a monopoly. They have been acting in concert for some time, but without any formal agreement. As ocean telegraphing has become a necessity, this promptness on the part of the companies to combine into a monopoly gives greater force to the proposition that the telegraph, in the public interest, should be owned and controlled by government. Especially is this becoming more apparent, since the telegraphic reports of weather observations, which in the hands of the Signal Bureau have become of such practical public service, have recently been extended, so as to embrace Europe and this country in a single circuit.