The Story of the Atlantic Telegraph

Though not unexpected, this last breaking of the cable was a sad blow to all on board. It was the end of their hopes, at least for the present expedition. Before separating, it had been agreed, that if the cable should part again before either ship had run a hundred miles, they should return and renew the attempt. If they had passed that limit, they were all to sail for Ireland. But the Niagara had run out a hundred and eleven miles, and knowing that the Agamemnon had done about the same, she expected the latter would keep on her course eastward, not stopping till she reached Queenstown. The Niagara, therefore, reluctantly bore away for the same port. Of course, the return voyage was "any thing but gay." When soldiers come home from the war, they march with a proud step, if they have had a victorious campaign. But it is otherwise when they come with a sad tale of disaster and defeat. Seldom had an expedition begun with higher hopes, or ended in more complete failure. Who could help feeling keenly this fresh disappointment? Even with all the courage "that may become a man," heightened by a natural buoyancy of spirits, how was it possible to resist the impression of the facts they had just witnessed? If--as Lord Carlisle had told them the year before--"there was almost enough of glory in the very design of an Atlantic telegraph," that glory might still be theirs. But apparently they could hope for nothing more. They had done all that men could do. But fate seemed against them; and who can fight against destiny? No one can blame them if they sometimes had sore misgivings, and looked out sadly upon the sea that had baffled their utmost skill, and now laughed their efforts to scorn.