The Story of the Atlantic Telegraph

[B] This is an error. Mr. Crocker, an operator in the Telegraph House at Valentia, was the fortunate one on watch at that hour, on whose eye the first ray fell, as a spark of life from the dead. [C] Speech at the Chamber of Commerce Dinner, Nov. 15, 1866. CHAPTER XVIII. THE AFTERGLOW. It is the clear shining after rain. The storms that swept the sea, have blown themselves out, and all is tranquil on the face of the deep. The cable is lying in its ocean bed uniting the two hemispheres, nevermore to be separated. And now comes the public recognition on both sides the Atlantic, though in different form. The event had produced a profound impression throughout the civilized world. Yet it was a singular illustration of the changes in public interest, that, whereas in 1858 a temporary success had kindled the wildest enthusiasm in the United States, while in England it was regarded almost with indifference, now the state of feeling in the two countries was completely reversed. In Great Britain it was the theme of boundless congratulation, while in America the public mind--dulled perhaps by the excitements of four years of war--received the news with composure. The reason was, in part, that England had had a larger share in the later than in the earlier expeditions. Certainly none could deny the inestimable services rendered by her men of science, her seamen, her engineers, and her great capitalists; and it was most fit that the country which they had honored should do them honor in its turn. Scarcely had the Great Eastern recrossed the sea before those to whom the empire owed so much, were duly recognized in the following letter from the Earl of Derby, then Prime Minister, addressed to Sir Stafford Northcote, who was to preside at a dinner given in Liverpool, to celebrate the great achievement: