EDISON MAKES PORTLAND CEMENT
Long before Edison ever thought of going into the manufacture of cement he had very pronounced opinions of its value for building purposes. More than twenty-five years ago, during a discussion on ancient buildings, he remarked: “Wood will rot, stone will chip and crumble, bricks disintegrate, but a cement and iron structure is apparently indestructible. Look at some of the old Roman baths. They are as solid as when they were built.”
With such convictions, and the vast fund of practical knowledge and experience he had gained at Edison in the crushing and handling of enormous masses of finely divided material, it is not surprising that he should have decided to engage in the manufacture of cement.
He was fully aware of the fact that he was proposing to “butt into” an old-established industry, in which the principal manufacturers were concerns which had been in business for a long time. He knew there were great problems to be solved, both in manufacturing and selling the cement. These difficulties, however, only made the proposition more inviting to him.
Edison followed his usual course of reading up all the literature on the subject that he could find, and seeking information from all quarters. After thorough study he came to the conclusion that with his improved methods of handling finely crushed material, and with some new inventions and processes he had in mind, he could go into the cement business and succeed in making a finer quality of product. As we shall see later, he “made good.”
This study of the cement proposition took place during the first few months of his experimenting on a new storage battery. In the mean time Mr. Mallory had been busy arranging for the formation of a company with the necessary money to commence and carry on the business. One day he went to the laboratory and told Mr. Edison that everything was ready and that it was now time to engage engineers to lay out the works.
To this Edison replied that he intended to do that himself, and invited Mr. Mallory to go with him to one of the draughting-rooms up-stairs. Here Edison placed a sheet of paper on a draughting-table and immediately began to draw out a plan of the proposed works. He continued all day and away into the evening, when he finished; thus completing within twenty-four hours the full lay-out of the entire plant as it was subsequently installed. If the plant were to be rebuilt to-day no vital change would be necessary.
It will be granted that this was a remarkable engineering feat, for Edison was then a newcomer in the cement business. But in that one day’s planning everything was considered and provided for, including crushing, mixing, weighing, grinding, drying screening, sizing, burning, packing, storing, and other processes.
From one end to the other the cement plant is about half a mile long, and through the various buildings there passes, automatically, each day a vast quantity of material under treatment. In practice this results in the production of more than two and a quarter million pounds of finished cement every twenty-four hours.
Not only was all this provided for in that one day’s designing, but also smaller details, such, for instance, as the carrying of all steam, water and air pipes and electrical conductors in a large subway extending from one end of the plant to the other; also a system by which the ten thousand bearings in the plant are oiled automatically, requiring the services of only two men for the entire work.
Following this general outline plan of the whole plant by Edison himself there came the preparation of the detail plans by his engineers. As the manufacture of cement also involves the breaking and grinding of rocks, the scheme, of course, included using the giant rolls and other crushing, drying, and screening machinery invented by him for the iron-concentrating work, as mentioned in our last chapter.
No magnetic separator is necessary in cement-making, but there were other processes to provide for that did not occur in concentrating iron ore. One of them relates to burning the material, which is one of the most important processes in manufacturing cement.
Perhaps it may be well to state for the information of the reader that in cement-making, generally speaking, cement-rock and limestone in the rough are mixed together and ground to a fine powder. This powder is “burned” in a kiln and comes out in the form of balls, called “clinker.” This again is crushed to a fine powder, which is the cement of commerce.
It will be seen, therefore, that the quantity of finished cement produced depends largely upon the capacity of the kilns. When Edison first thought of going into cement-making he expected to use the old style of kilns, which were about sixty feet long and six feet in diameter, and had a capacity of turning out about two hundred barrels of clinker every twenty-four hours. He is never satisfied, however, to take the experience of others as final, and thought he could improve on what had been done before.
He discussed the project with Mr. Mallory, who says: “After having gone over this matter several times, Mr. Edison said, ‘I believe I can make a kiln which will give an output of one thousand barrels in twenty-four hours.’ Although I had then been closely associated with him for ten years and was accustomed to see him accomplish great things, I could not help feeling the improbability of his being able to jump into an old-established industry—as a novice—and start by improving the ‘heart’ of the production so as to increase its capacity four hundred per cent. But Mr. Edison went to work immediately and very soon completed the design of a new type of kiln which was to be one hundred and fifty feet long and nine feet in diameter, made up in ten-foot sections of cast iron bolted together and arranged to be revolved on fifteen bearings. He had a wooden model made, and studied it very carefully through a series of experiments. These resulted so satisfactorily that this form was finally decided upon, and ultimately installed as part of the plant.
“Well, for a year or so the kiln problem was a nightmare to me. We could only obtain four hundred barrels at first, but gradually crept up through a series of heart-breaking trials until we got over eleven hundred barrels a day. Mr. Edison never lost his confidence throughout the trials, but on receiving a disappointing report would order us to try it again.”
Although the older cement manufacturers predicted utter failure, they have since recognized the success of Edison’s long kiln, and it is now being used quite generally in the trade.
Another invention of minor nature but worthy of note relates to the weighing of the proportions of cement-rock and limestone. In most cases the measurement is usually by barrow loads, but Edison determined that it must be done accurately to the pound, and devised a means of doing it automatically, for, as he remarked, “The man at the scales might get to thinking of the other fellow’s best girl, so fifty or a hundred pounds of rock, more or less, wouldn’t make much difference to him.”
With Edison’s device the scales are set at certain weights and the materials are fed from hoppers. The moment the scale-beam tips an electrical connection automatically stops the feed and no more can be put on the scale until the load is withdrawn.
Another and important new feature introduced by Edison was in raising the standard of fine grinding of cement ten points above the regular standard of seventy-five per cent, through a two-hundred-mesh screen. By reason of the great improvement he had made in grinding machinery he could grind cement so that eighty-five per cent, passed through a two-hundred-mesh screen. As cement is valuable in proportion to its fineness, it will be seen that he has thus made an advance of great importance to the trade.
We cannot enter into all the details of the numerous inventions and improvements that Edison has introduced into his cement plant during the last eight or nine years. It is sufficient to say that by his persistent and energetic labors during that period he has raised his plant from the position of a newcomer to the rank of the fifth largest producer of cement in this country.
A remarkable instance of the power of Edison’s memory may be related here. Some years ago, when the cement plant was nearly finished and getting ready to start, he went up to look it over and see what needed to be done.
On the arrival of the train at ten-forty in the morning he went to the mill, and, starting at one end, went through the plant to the other end, examining every detail. He made no notes or memoranda, but the examination required all day.
In the afternoon, at five-thirty, he took a train for home, and on arriving there a few hours later got out some note-books and began to write from memory the things needing change or attention. He continued on this work all night and right along until the next afternoon, when he completed a list of nearly six hundred items. This memory “stunt” was the more remarkable because many of the items included all the figures of new dimensions he had decided upon for some of the machinery in the plant.
Each item was numbered consecutively, and the list copied and sent up to the superintendent, who was instructed to make the changes and report by number as they were done. These changes were made and their value was proven by later experience.
Edison’s achievements have made a deep impression on the cement industry, but it is likely that it will become still deeper when his “Poured Cement House” is exploited.
A few years ago he conceived the idea of pouring a complete concrete house in a few hours. He made a long series of experiments for producing a free-flowing combination of the necessary materials, and at length found one that satisfied him that his idea was feasible, although experts said it could not be done.
His plan is to provide two sets of iron molds, one inside the other, with an open space between. These molds are made in small pieces and set up by being bolted together. When erected, the concrete mixture is poured in from the top in a continuous stream until the space between the molds is filled.
The pouring will be done in about six hours, after which the molds will be left in position about four days in order that the concrete may harden. When the molds are removed there will remain standing an entire house, complete from cellar to roof, with walls, floors, stairways, bath and laundry tubs, all in one solid piece. These houses, when built in quantity, can be produced at a very moderate cost.
Mr. Edison intends this house for the workingman, and in its design has insisted on its being ornamental as well as substantial. As he expressed it: “We will give the workingman and his family ornamentation in their house. They deserve it, and besides, it costs no more after the pattern is made to give decorative effects than it would to make everything plain.”
XX
MOTION-PICTURES
Through his invention and introduction of the phonograph and of his apparatus for taking and exhibiting motion-pictures Edison has probably done more to interest and amuse the world than any other living man. These two forms of amusement have more audiences in a week than all the theaters in America in a year.
It is a curious fact that while instantaneous photography is necessary to produce motion pictures, the suggestion of producing them was made many years before the instantaneous photograph became possible.
One of the earliest efforts in this direction was made before Edison was born, and shown by a toy called the Zoetrope, or “Wheel of Life.” A number of figures showing fractional parts of the motion of an object—such, for instance, as a boy skating—were boldly drawn in silhouette on a strip of paper. This paper was put inside an open cylinder having small openings around its circumference. The cylinder was mounted on a pivot, and, when revolved, the figures on the paper seemed to be in motion when viewed through the openings.
The success of this and similar toys, as well as of modern motion-pictures, depends upon a phenomenon known as the “persistence of vision.” This means that if an object be presented to the vision for a moment and then withdrawn, the image of that object will remain impressed on the retina of the eye for a period of one-tenth to one-seventh of a second.
If, for instance, a bright light be moved rapidly up and down in front of the eye in a dark room it appears not as a single light, but as a line of fire, because there is not time for the eye to lose the image of the light between the rapid phases of its motion. For the same reason, if a number of pictures exactly alike were rapidly presented to the eye in succession it would seem as if a single picture were being viewed.
Thus, if a number of photographs, say at the rate of fifteen per second, be taken of a moving object, each successive photograph will show a fraction of the movements. Now if these photographs be thrown on a screen in the same order and at the same rate at which they were taken the movements of the object would apparently again take place, because the eye does not have time to lose the image of one fractional movement before the next follows.
One of the earliest suggestions of reproducing animate motion was made by a Frenchman named Ducos about 1864. He was followed by others, but they were all handicapped by the fact that dry-plates and sensitized film were entirely unknown, and the wet plates then used were entirely out of the question for the development of a practical commercial scheme.
The first serious attempt to secure photographs of objects in motion was made in 1878 by Edward Muybridge. At this time very rapid wet-plates were known. By arranging a line of cameras along a track and causing a horse in trotting past them to strike wires or strings attached to the shutters, the plates were exposed and a series of clear instantaneous photographs of the horse in motion was obtained.
Positive prints were made which were mounted in a modified form of Zoetrope and projected upon a screen. The horse in motion was thus reproduced, but, differing from the motion-pictures of to-day, always remained in the center of the screen in violent movement and making no progress.
Early in the ‘eighties dry-plates were introduced, and other experimenters took up the work, but they were handicapped by the fact that plates were heavy and only a limited number could be used. This difficulty may be easily understood when it is realized that a modern motion-picture reel lasting fifteen minutes comprises about sixteen thousand separate and distinct photographs. The impossibility of manipulating this large number of glass plates to show one motion-picture play will be seen at once.
This was the condition of the art when Edison entered upon the work. He himself says, “In the year 1887 idea occurred to me that it was possible to devise an instrument which should do for the eye what the phonograph does for the ear, and that by a combination of the two all motion and sound could be recorded and reproduced simultaneously.”
Two very serious difficulties lay in the way, however—first, a sensitive surface of such form and weight as could be successively brought into position and exposed at a very high rate; and, secondly, the making of a camera capable of so taking the pictures. Edison proved equal to the occasion, and, after an immense amount of work and experiment, continuing over a long period of time, succeeded in producing apparatus that made modern motion-pictures possible.
In his earliest experiments a cylinder about the size of a phonograph record was used. It was coated with a highly sensitized surface, and microscopic photographs, arranged spirally, were taken upon it. Positive prints were made in the same way, and viewed through a magnifying-glass. Various forms of this apparatus were made, but all were open to serious objections, the chief trouble being with the photographic emulsion.
During this experimental period the kodak film was being developed by the Eastman Kodak Company, under the direction of Mr. George Eastman. Edison recognized that in this product there lay the solution of that part of the problem. At first the film was not just what he required, but the Eastman Company after a time developed and produced the highly sensitized surface that Edison sought.
It then remained to devise a camera by means of which from twenty to forty pictures per second could be taken. Every user of a film camera can appreciate the difficulty of the problem. A long roll of film must pass steadily behind the lens. At every inch it must be stopped, the shutter opened for the exposure, and then closed again. The film must be advanced say an inch, and these operations repeated twenty to forty times a second throughout, perhaps, a thousand feet of film.
Who but an Edison would assume that such a device could be made, and with such exactness that each picture should coincide with the others? After much experiment, however, he finally accomplished it, and in the summer of 1889 the first modern motion-picture camera was made. From that day to this the Edison camera has been the accepted standard for securing pictures of objects in motion.
The earliest form of exhibiting apparatus was known as the kinetoscope. It was a machine in which a positive print from the negative roll of film obtained in the camera was exhibited directly to the eyes through a peep-hole. About 1895 the pictures were first shown through a modified form of magic lantern, and have so continued to this day. The industry has grown very rapidly, and for a long time the principal American manufacturers of motion-pictures paid a royalty to Edison under his basic patents.
The pictures made in the earliest days of the art were simple and amusing, such as Fred Ott’s sneeze, Carmencita dancing, Italians and their performing bears, fencing, trapeze stunts, horsemanship, blacksmithing, and so on. No attempt was made to portray a story or play. The “boys” at the laboratory laugh when they tell of a local bruiser who agreed to box a few rounds with “Jim” Corbett in front of the camera. When this local “sparring partner” came to face Corbett he was so paralyzed with terror he could hardly move.
These early pictures were made in the yard of Edison’s laboratory at Orange, in a studio called the “Black Maria.” It was made of wood, painted black inside and out, and could be swung around to face the sunlight, which was admitted by a movable part of the roof.
This is all very different in these modern days. The studios in which interior motion-pictures are made are expensive and pretentious affairs. An immense building of glass, with all the properties and stage settings of a regular theater, are required. Of course many of the plays are produced out of doors, in portions of the country suited to the story.
All the companies producing motion-pictures employ regular stock companies of actors and actresses, selected especially for their skill in pantomime, although, as may be suspected, in the actual taking of the pictures they are required to carry on an animated dialogue as if performing on the real stage. This adds to the smoothness and perfection of the performance.
Motion-picture plays are produced under the direction of skilled stage-managers who must be specially trained for this particular business. Their work is far from being easy, for an act in a picture-play must be exact and free from mistakes, and must take place in a very short time. For instance, an act in such a play may take less than five minutes to perform, but it must be carefully rehearsed for several weeks beforehand.
There is plenty of scope for patience and ingenuity in taking motion-picture plays. If trained children or animals are required they must be found or trained; and all the resources of trick and stop photography are called upon from time to time as the occasion requires.
Edison has always held to his idea of a combination of the phonograph and motion-picture. Some time ago he said, “I believe that in coming years, by my own work and that of Dickson, Muybridge, Marey, and others who will doubtless enter the field, grand opera can be given at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York without any material change from the original, and with artists and musicians long since dead.”
This prediction has been partly fulfilled, for Edison’s successful talking motion-pictures marked the beginning of the “talkies” which are flourishing to-day.
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