The Duke of Arcanum

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Preface

Or all the attributes of the human heart the greatest is charity ; and yet how few of us can pause in the midst of our successes in life to cast a thought to those objects of distress who see nothing but the dark side of existence, and know little of the joys and comfort^ to which they should as rightfully be heirs as any others of the human family. Are they selected and condemned to a life of penury by an inexorable predestination? No. Then circumstances are alone responsible for their miseries, and the amelioration of those conditions are acts which place such characters as Stanley Edgcumb in the ranks of the greatest benefactors of the race. If the noble purposes and philanthropic philosophy of this man is understood by the reader, and his acts contrasted with those to whom abundance is but the synonym of avarice, then the labor bestowed upon the writing of this volume may not have been utterly wasted, as the world is always bettered, even by the most modest of ideas, if they convey to the intellect some humble truth or lesson, which, taking root, lifts the soul up to brighter glimpses of human conceits, volitions and purposes. The charity of Edgcumb was largely the charity of the teachings of Christ. He was not one of that numerous class who, being blessed with a superabundance of wealth, seek to leave some colossal monument to their bones by the endowment of some notable enterprise in the direction of a college, a hospital, or a school of technology; but he believed in extending a helping hand to those oppressed by misfortune and the bitter afflictions of a dire and relentless poverty; or, in other words, of seeking misery where it actually exists, and, by generous deeds, to warm the soul with gratitude, and lead it out of the lugubrious shadows which envelop it into the strong light of hope and better aspirations^ And how vii

PBEFACE.

much more real happiness is caused by the worthy distribution of a fortune in those channels of penury than by the endowment of some great library of reference, whose shelves are burdened with a collection of rare and costly volumes, not one of which one in a thousand ever sees, and in which these miserables have no earthly interest! Edgcumb had himself tasted those bitter woes which so frequently engulf the victim in an abyss of gloom, indurating the heart alike against God and man. But his strong soul had risen out of it, and when prosperity came he did not forget the state to which, by a sad fate, so many of his fellowbeings had fallen, and the millions with which a wise providence had invested him became the benefactions to the needy, and an unostentatious charity, almost prodigal in its application, guided the heart and hand of this princely dispenser of alms. Oh, that the world contained more Edgcumbs! How much brighter would it be for countless creatures, to whom Death is the most welcome visitor, and the grave their only refuge.

The Author.

THE DUKE OF ARCANUM.

Chapter I. The Lost Message

Ohe morning in the latter part of September^ 1870, a young man of about thirty years of age, of medium stature, with a clean-shaven face, and respectably, though not nattily attired, might have been observed walking at a brisk gait along one of the crowded thoroughfares of Chicago, toward the central part of the city. The cooling breezes of an early autumn, gently wafted from the waters of Lake Michigan, fell gratefully upon the inhabitants, and Stanley Edgcumb seemed susceptible of its invigorating influence like all the rest.

The streets were teeming with their usual life and activity, thronged with pedestrians, cars, trucks and vehicles of every description. The current of this early throng was in the same direction, toward the centers of trade, for it was made up of the toilers in all of those multifarious industries which constitute a great city.

Edgcumb, however, did not drift with the current, but with an elastic step pressed forward, crossed the river, and in a few minutes entered a tall building which was conspicuous from the perfect maze of wires which rose from lofty poles to the roof of the structure. It was the central office of the Continental Telegraph Company.

Upon the upper floor of this structure there was a large hall, well lighted by windows and sky-lights, whose walls reverberated the roar and clash of nearly five hundred noisy instruments — a perfect babel of electric voices from the remotest parts of the land, telling, in that mysterious tongue, a language of dots and dashes, tales which concerned the domestic, political and commercial relations of a nation.

THE DUKE OF ABCANUM.

Long rows of tables, divided by glass partitions which ran lengthwise and crosswise, completely tilled this great ball from wall to wall. On one side a square shaft extended from the floor, through the roof, to a height of several feet above, forming a shapely tower, through which a labyrinth of wires were conducted to the switchboard, upon the exterior of this shaft, within easy reach of the floor.

There was a scene of animation among the corps of telegraphers which was preparatory to a commencement of the long hours of application before them. Some had already entered upon their diurnal duties, while others were standing by the windows, gazing down at the diminutive life in the streets below, or out upon the flat roofs that stretched in an endless sea before the eye, until they seemed to fade away in the distance, or disappear in the smoky haze of the atmosphere.

A conspicuous feature of this scene was a little knot of jovial spirits who were convulsed with merriment from watching the eccentricities of James Kye, a young man of seemingly fatuous intellect, who had but a few minutes before taken a seat near his instrument. It is invariably the case in a large assembly of either men or women, that some particular individual becomes a recognized character of the society. In the present instance James Kye had received the distinguished consideration from his co-laborers of being the character of the oflQce, but this signal recognition only seemed to entitle him to the scoffs, flouts and derision of his associates. There was always a strange interest centered in his grotesque actions. When unoccupied he would fall into spells of abstraction, and at such times his motions were so maladroit, and his facial expressions so absurd and ludicrous, that it seemed difficult to account for them without ascribing them to moments of irrationality. There was a rapid succession of odd changes of countenance and gesticulations. Thrusting his hand through his hair, his eyes intently fixed in a vacant gaze, he would appear calm and thoughtful ; then perhaps a sudden jerk of the head to the right or left would follow ; the eyelids would move rapidly and a smile spread over his face, broadening into a grin. His whole being would then seem to be in a state of animation, his eyes (aglow, and bis Ups moving as if io actual speech, Those hitting

THE LOST MESSAGE.

changes of countenance came and went to a wonderful degree. He seemed like one in the attitude of an earnest conversation with a living being before him. Then, waving his hand imperiously, his eyes would lose their luster, his head sink helplessly upon his hand, and his tongue protrude from the mouth, a general expression of idiocy settling upon his features. In the next instant, perhaps, there came a click, click, click from his instrument, and he was aroused. Seizing his pen or pencil and turning to the table, he once more became a rational being like those around him. It seemed as if there were a ceaseless struggle for supremacy between reason and its dethroning agencies. His mind was clear in the performance of his duties. His work was executed in a faultless way, and no errors were ever attributed to him. He was silent and uncommunicative to those around him, living in the seclusion of his own thoughts, bearing the gibes of his fellow operators with composure, and scarcely betraying to the most critical observer the fact that he was even conscious of them.

The cause of these strange manifestations was not a mental aberration, but the mysterious result of some nervous debility which so affected him as to cause his passing thoughts and emotions to be thus outwardly mirrored upon his countenance.

Eye had just given one of those peculiar exhibitions, accompanied by a wave of the hand and a snapping of the fingers, as if he had suddenly found the solution of some intricate problem as Jack Coulter joined the little knot of merry-makers.

“ Eureka ! he exclaimed as Kye^s hand came down, and, suiting the action to the word, he struck a comical attitude in mimicry of the eccentric operator.

A laugh followed.

Yes, he has found it, said another, who was equally anxious to participate in the fun.

“ But see, boys, he^s lost it again. Now he^s growing more tragic, said still another.

The imbecile ! I wonder if he basnet been studying his Koyal Nibs the Prince of Denmark for eccentricities. See, he strikes a new fancy ; he sees the phantom of the king. ^Angels and ministers of Grace defend us ! Be thou a spirit of health or gobhn damned % ^ Let^s hire a hall.

TEE EVKE OF ABGANEM,

The merriment which these poignant taunts evoked became fairly uproarious and attracted others to the group. Kye, however, did not appear to take notice of his tormentors, but lapsed again into a contemplative state.

“ The poor devil donT seem to understand, or else he plays his madness in even a subtler way than the Dane himself. Sublime, isn^t it, boys? He would make a fine ^crushed tragedian.^ What a pity we haven’t a skull to give him for a plaything! He could poise it upon the tips of his fingers and exclaim: ‘Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him well, Horatio. A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy.’ ”

“But he’d be more likely to use it for an inkstand. Jack,” suggested one of the bystanders.

“Or a cuspidore,” suggested still another voice, which had not yet been heard.

“ A cuspidore! Humph ! It’s a pity we couldn’t make use of his pate for some such purpose ; it’s all it’s good for, it’s so infernal crazy,” returned Coulter.

“Cracked, you mean, don’t you?” asked the same voice laughingly.

“ Cracked! You’ve hit it, Tom. It’s so badly cracked it wouldn’t make a cuspidore; it wouldn’t hold the juice.”

A burst of merriment followed from a dozen voices. There was one, however, who stood a silent witness of these ofiensive proceedings without applauding them. It was Stanley Edgcumb. He had joined the group just in time to hear Coulter’s first exclamation, but he turned away in disgust at this vulgarism and seated himself in a chair near by. He felt a deep sympathy aroused for the friendless operator, and he was determined upon interfering if the matter was carried to any greater length.

These merciless thrusts were still unheeded. They fell like shafts impinging on a wall. To have touched him on the shoulder would have aroused Kye to a comprehension of any indignity; but under the spell these singular manifestations came and went, dulling the sensitiveness of his nature for the time, and rendering him incapable of impression by few exterior demonstrations.

Jack Coulter, whose gibes had thus provoked the mirth of

THE LOST MESSAGE.

those standing near, was a young man of about twenty-six or twenty- seven years, of dark, almost swarthy complexion, and piercing black eyes which had a restless look. He had a round, shapely head, but rather a low forehead ; a thin, straight nose and a kind of contemptuous look about the mouth. His face was intelligent, clearly denoting that he was a person of considerable ability. He was off-hand and brusque, and was looked upon as somewhat of a leader in those elements of society in which he floated. He was a complete master of his art, and was credited with being one of the finest telegraphers in the company’s service. His transmission of the Morse characters was said to be so rapid that he had never found one capable of receiving from him without frequent interruptions. He prided himself much upon his achievements and enjoyed his supremacy, or reign of terror, upon the wires, for few had the temerity to work with him.

As Coulter stood looking at Kye, annoyed at his failure to provoke his resentment, the bystanders could not fail to notice a look of still deeper mischief in his eye, and a knowing wink passed from one to another.

Wake him up, Jack,^^ whispered one of his companions sufficiently audible for only those nearest to hear.

“Pm afraid hefll bite if I touch him,^^ Coulter answered. Then glancing again in the direction of the unfortunate man, he seemed to think of the readiness with which he was aroused by the sounds of his instrument, and turning quickly about he exclaimed: “ Now for some fun, boys. Just watch and see him dance a hornpipe all over the table.

Coulter walked toward the switchboard, and one of the operators, divining his object, remarked : Jack is going to cut in

on Kye^s wire and give him a shaking up. Fd rather have the jimjams than have him get after me with his lightning. Watch the poor fellow and see how rattled he gets. Hefll sweat like a tankard of ice-water in less than fifteen seconds, see if he don’t. ”

Scarcely had the speaker finished than Coulter was seen to make some movement at the switchboard and then drop into a chair at a table near by. Instantly there came an agitation of Eye’s instrument. The strange operator was still in that abnormal state which has been described, but at the sound of his

THE DUKE OF ABCANUM.

instrument his hand dropped heavily by his side and his eyes became vacant. It was only for a moment; it was the gathering of nature to assert the supremacy of reason over its undermining influences. A dash of the hand across his eyes and his face resumed a calm and rational appearance. Then, bending slowly forward, he seized the key to answer the noisy signals which were so impatiently clamoring for his attention.

Stop, Kye/^ exclaimed a voice, in an almost mandatory tone ; don^t answer that call.^^

Kye looked up in a bewildered way, and relaxed his hold of the key upon seeing Edgcumb standing by his side.

“ Why, what^s the matter ? he asked, showing some confusion.

They are trying to make you a butt of ridicule. There is an intrigue among some of these fellows to turn you into a jumping-jack and make you dance for their amusement. I like to see fair play and an even chance.

Kye still seemed unable to grasp the meaning of Edgcumb’s words. He had been tormented so much that he felt inclined to look upon him also with suspicion ; but when he saw the earnest and kindly expression of his face he became assured of his friendship at once.

“ Make me dance ? Who ? What for ? Kye asked in a rambling way.

“ Jack Coulter has gone over to cut in on your wire and rush you out of your boots. Those fellows are standing around to see the fun and laugh at you. Let me sit down in that chair before you answer the call, and we will tell Mr. Coulter to go ahead with his amusement.

Without another word Kye shuffled out of his seat. He was only too glad to let Edgcumb take the punishment, for he knew what it meant when Jack Coulter put himself about any such a matter as that. With his face beaming with smiles he drew a chair to Edgcumb^s side, then, turning toward the group of merry-makers, he put his thumb to his nose and twirled his fingers at them. The answer came in a volley of gibes and grimaces in mockery of his peculiarities.

Pklgcumb was cool and determined. The little group, which had but a moment before been so hilarious, was now amazed

TBE LOST MESSAGE.

upon seeing Edgcumb take Kye^s place at the instrument, for, being a person of indisputable ability, they saw it was probable that, instead of a burlesque, there would be a battle — a battle between two giants of the telegraphic art, perhaps such as had never been seen before. The scoffers and mockers were silenced into respect, and, instead of the mischievous grin which had been so noticeable upon their faces, there was now a look of unusual interest, and they gathered near to watch the result.

Taking a pen from the table Edgcumb leisurely commenced to arrange the message blanks lying scattered before him. Again there came a rattling sound from the instrument of the shortest possible duration, but the practiced ear of the operator read only this word, Who?

‘‘‘ Turn around and youdl see,^^ answered Edgcumb, with his. key.

Being seated with his back to Kye^s table. Coulter had not perceived the change that had taken place, but upon receiving this reply he turned and saw that he was foiled; and, being stung to the quick by the laugh which the little coterie turned upon him, his dark eyes flashed resentment.

“ Are you satisfied? Edgcumb demanded over the wire.

Coulter, without replying to the question, asked in the same manner: What right have you to interfere and spoil a little fun ?

The same that any gentleman has to protect another from imposition, the answer was flashed back. If you can get any satisfaction from rushing a man, go ahead, make me your victim, and don’t take a man who is almost a mental wreck.”

With the gauntlet thus thrown down to him, Coulter could not well avoid accepting the challenge.

Buzz-z-z-z, flew the armature of the instrument as came Coulter’s reply.

“ Whew ! Coulter’s got his dander up now. Just hear that sounder rattle. I’d hate to try and catch it and put it down,” one of the listeners exclaimed.

Edgcumb read the response : ‘‘I’d pay you mighty quick for your interference if I had you on a wire where you couldn’t get away and had to take it.”

Don’t flatter yourself that I am afraid of you. You have

IC THE LUKE OF AECAHVM.

the crowd here that you were going to amuse ; go on with your amusement.

Again there came a buzz-z-z-z. The armature fluttered with greater intensity than before, and the dashes flew with the rapidity of— what Lightning? The very elements of lightning carried them. Was it then with the rapidity of thought? Thought, indeed, could scarcely keep pace with this human intelligence, yet seemingly so unintelligible, manliest only in a confused clatter, but caught by the trained faculty of man, to whom it seemed as commonplace as language itself, and dexterously committed to paper.

The little group of telegraphers gathered closely around, increasing momentarily in size and excitement. The report of the contest having spread to all parts of the room, many left their tables and gathered about, anxious to see the receiver, or to get within sound of his instrument.

As the bewildering whirl commenced, Edgcumb coolly dipped his pen in the ink, and with two or three graceful movements of the hand began to write. He was noted for the beauty of his penmanship and was counted among the very best in his profession, not only for his swiftness with a pen, but for his keen perception of the many intricacies of his art. He had often displayed his skill as a receiver to the astonishment of his confreres, but it was scarcely deemed possible to follow with a pen the remarkable transmission of the man who was then flashing the characters at him with such speed that many of those standing near were unable to form a lucid idea of what was coming. What was their admiration, then, as they saw him sitting so calmly, making those graceful sweeps and curves with his pen, rounding out every letter and every word in the most artistic manner.

Faster and faster the dots and dashes flew, yet there was no break or interruption by the receiver. There was a breathless silence among the spectators. The roar of the instruments throughout the room seemed to have greatly diminished in consequence of so many having left their places. Coulter grew desperate. His face became flushed and pale alternately under the excitement. He roused himself to such a supreme eflbrt that it seemed as if his whole frame was a quivering mass of nerves, but to no purpose. He had found in Stanley Edgcumb, for the first time, one who was able to cope with him.

“Twenty words behind/^ whispered one who w^as bending near, following every character with his ear and every motion of the pen with his eye.

“ What, do you mean it for a fact? asked another, peering over the shoulders of those in front.

“ Yes; he^s copying twenty words behind, the man replied.

The questioner, who had seemed to doubt the assertion, pushed out of the crowd and, making a dash for Coulter’s table, exclaimed, as he reached it: “Crowd him. Jack, crowd him; he’s twenty words behind. You’ll break him yet.”

Coulter heard the excited voice without an outward appearance of eflect, but he was, nevertheless, inspired by it. He was under such a tremendous strain that the least inattention would have been fatal to his hopes. Gazing fixedly at the paper before him, his fingers quivering under the intensity of his manipulation, for a moment his terrific pace was fairly bewildering. Those who were gathered about Edgeumb’s table now looked at each other in amazement, and the man who had kept watch upon him turned again and whispered: “ Twenty-five words behind.”

Twenty-five words behind ! That sentence was full of significance to those who heard it. They could fully appreciate the wonders of such a feat. Can the reader comprehend it also ? When we stop to consider the close similarity of many of the characters, and the acute perception which is necessary to follow them, even at an ordinary rate of transmission, we can conceive of the wonderful activity of the mind in translating them at the rate at which Edgeumb was receiving from Coulter. This in itself seems marvelous, but when it is coupled with the feat of following the transmitter with a pen, through a lengthy message, twenty-five words behind it becomes much more so. It severely taxes the mental resources and demonstrates the capabilities of the mind probably as great as any other human act, as a brief analysis will show.

In the performance of such a feat, there must, of necessity, be a multiplex action of thought. The supposition is general that the mind is capable of thinking of but one thing at a time, but

THE DUKE OE AltCANUM,

this very act proves to the contrary, or else there is some mysterious operation of storing away unconsciously in the brain, from certain impressions, while the process of thought in acting upon them is going on. As Edgcumb was writing down one word, Coulter was on the twenty-sixth in advance of him. What, then, had become of the twenty-five which he had transmitted, but which the receiver had not yet copied? Were they stored away in bis memory to be called up as wanted ? If so, when thought was engaged in calling them up and connecting them -with the theme, the mind would be a blank to others which were crowding so hotly for a place on the tablets of memory unless there was a multiplex action of thought, for it must be remembered that those words were ever changing with the most startling rapidity. Thought is necessary in the spelling of every word; and thought, too, must guide every motion of the pen which writes them down. These thoughts must all act simultaueousl3^ They must be constantly occupied with their respective duties, and there must be a governing intelligence to watch over them, for if they become mixed in their parts this wonderful complex action must break down and come to a stop, like the delicate movement of a watch when one of its wheels becomes clogged or broken.

These remarks may seem an unwarranted diversion, but the wonders of the art of telegraphy are so little understood that the author feels justified in familiarizing the reader with one of the most remarkable of them, and which is not infrequent among the more skillful class of telegraphers.

The terrific strain under which both Edgcumb and Coulter labored could only be maintained for a few minutes. It came to a close as the latter reached the end of the item which he had been transmitting. Closing the key, he turned toward the crowd which surrounded Edgcumb. He had not only been thv arted in his designs upon Kye, but he had been signally defeated in the trial just ended. He could see that the excitement and admiration was entirely on the other side of the room. He had really surpassed all of his previous efforts and had made a wonderful record, but ho had not succeeded in breaking Edgcumb dowm; there was the rub, and he was furious about it.

Those who had held their timepieces in their hands and had

THE LOST MESSAGE.

counted the sheets as they were tossed aside, announced the result — a record which had never been made before. So unrestrained now was the enthusiasm of those who had witnessed the contest that they seized Edgcumb and bore him triumphantly about the room on their shoulders amid the plaudits of the entire force.

In a few minutes the confusion had subsided and all had settled down to the routine of the day’s work. Kye had resumed his seat by his instrument and had lapsed again into a state of abstraction. The two men who had become so conspicuous by reason of the morning’s episode were at their accustomed places, one flushed with success, the other surly, disappointed and revengeful. Both occupied the same table, but sat upon opposite sides, facing each other.

Stanley Edgcumb was in some respects a remarkable young man. He had followed the profession of a telegrapher from the time he was fifteen years of age, when the art was in its infancy. He had grown up with it and witnessed its development into a gigantic system, penetrating even the depths of the sea and reaching to the uttermost parts of the earth. His many years of service, with his varied opportunities, had materially assisted in developing his intellect, for a more potent factor in a practical education does not exist than observation and experience in a great commercial telegraph office. The thoughts and expressions, the speeches and writings of educated people are flashed through the brain of the operator. He also sees the messages of the illiterate, and comparisons are obvious. He acquires brevity and learns to pick out the pith and leave the verbiage. It brightens his intellect and stirs up his thoughts, for there is always something fresh for them to feed upon. He knows the events which are transpiring in every part of the world, through which he becomes familiar with its geography, its distinguished people and, in effect, with all questions, social or political, which agitate or interest at home or abroad. There are those in this profession, as in all others, who perform their work like automatons, who neglect those favorable opportunities, whose ideas do not seem to be awakened into h state of advancement. There are those, too, to whom every word awakens a thought or a sentiment. They investigate, they

THE DUKE OF AECANUM.

read, they inform themselves and become educated. Edgcumb was one of the latter. He had profited well by those opportunities. His intelligent face, so full of quiet dignity, yet tempered with a pleasing expression, bore sufficient evidence of it. He appeared more thoughtful than most of those around him, and he was looked upon as a man of more than ordinary mental accomplishments.

Edgcumb had so mastered the intricacies of his chosen art that it fell but little short of the marvelous. It was frequently told of him that by stopping the sound of his instrument, and by placing his hand upon the connections so as to slightly divert the current to his body, he could read oft* the messages by means of the electric pulsations at the tips of his fingers. Again, he would stand away where the click of his instrument could not reach his ear and read oft* the words, to the astonishment of the operators, by merely watching the vibrations of the armature. The senses of sight, hearing and feeling were all trained to his use in recognizing the electric manifestations. The mute throb of the current, or the noisy clatter of his appa. ratus were alike intelligible to him.

Edgcumb and Coulter were the embodiment of perfection as telegraphers, but each of a difterent type. Coulter^s wonderful manipulation of the key was merely the result of a high degree of activity of the nerves and muscles, while Edgcumb’s genius excelled in the higher, more intricate and artistic features, such as require the finest distinction by the mind of almost imperceptible differences, where judgment must be swift and unerring, and where a mental activity is necessary which exercises the mind to its fullest extent.