Emily’s Wedding Dress (copyright protected-for classroom use only)
by Carol Lauritzen and Michael Jaeger
“I must have fallen asleep,” thought Emily as she glanced around the room. The low burning lamp was the only light in the dark house. The sputtering flames threw dancing shadows on the wall that sparked memories of her wedding night--dancing with Thomas in her lovely rose silk dress. In the faint light, she could barely see its pink glow in the corner of the room. She gazed fondly at her only fancy garment. Thomas had prospered in his own blacksmith shop in Brandon, Vermont, thanks to his older brother’s generosity and the skills gained from a long apprenticeship. Emily enjoyed the financial security and a nice home that Thomas had provided. Life was good for them in Brandon, Vermont.
“Where is he now? Perhaps he is on his way home,” Emily wondered. The last few days had passed so slowly as she awaited his return. She felt especially lonely in the evenings. During their five years of marriage, she had grown fond of the sound of Thomas’ fife signaling he was on the way home from work. Its shrill melody on the air meant that Thomas had some exciting news from the newspaper or from reading the many books stacked in the corner of the smithy. She delighted in Thomas’ love of learning and his curiosity about the nature of things. They spent many evenings discussing the new phenomenon of electricity, reading Franklin’s reports, and experimenting with their collection of electrics--glass jars and tubes, wires, pieces of rubber, and strips of fur. The prize of the collection, a toy whose animated creatures moved when stimulated by the right combination of glass and rubber, was the centerpiece of the cupboard shelf. She and Thomas had often demonstrated the electrics to anyone who would watch and listen. Most of their friends and acquaintances thought the experiments were just whimsy. After all, steam was the energy source of the age. But Thomas desired a substitute for the dangerous power of steam. Too many men had been killed from violent boiler explosions.
A few weeks ago, the fife’s melody had been exceptionally shrill. That cold January evening of 1833, Thomas brought home an issue of the Troy Daily Budget. In their warm kitchen, they had spread the paper on the table and together pored over the article that had intrigued Thomas. It described “a mechanical device used at the Penfield and Hammond Iron Works to separate iron ore from rock which surrounded it. . .a galvanic battery. . .a horseshoe magnet with which the owners were wont to amuse and astonish the public, by lifting a large anvil. . . constructed by a Professor Henry of Albany.”
Emily remembered the rising glow of excitement as they had shared in the wonder. “Thomas, it sounds like the electric toys but on a much grander scale. What do you suppose the professor has done?”
During the evening meal, they had continued their speculations about the new device. “Why can’t this reporter provide more specific information? How can a galvanic battery be used to separate iron ore from rock? What kind of magnet could lift an anvil? Who is this Professor Henry of Albany?”
For days, Thomas could think of nothing but the device. “Why isn’t there a train line in this state?” Thomas had grumbled. “I need to go see this device for myself.”
“Why don’t you see if your brother Oliver will let you ride along with him the next time he takes his peddler’s wagon to Crown Point?” Emily had suggested.
Now, she shook herself out of her reverie. “I’d better be doing something,” she thought as she walked into the kitchen. “At least one of us has to be practical.”
She turned her attention to the blacksmith ledger and made notes of the few jobs that had been completed.
shoe new oxen 2.00 Leonard Dwight
mend wagon .42 Sam Wells
mend sleigh .68 Chester Sheldon
make & cut 13 bolts .33 Alfred Root
mend chain .08 John Graves
Thomas needed to collect these overdue accounts. Recently, his cash box had not been as rich as his imagination.
A sound in the yard beckoned Emily to the door. She saw two men lift a strange-shaped object out of the wagon. Thomas and Oliver had returned! She hurriedly put on her work apron, cleared the kitchen table, and opened the door. Thomas brought the object into the house and placed it gently on the table. Emily studied the device.
“Thomas,” she cried, “it’s the magnet, isn’t it? How did you get it?”
Oliver’s attempt at explanation was interrupted by Thomas’ insistence that they begin working immediately. Emily took pen and paper and made detailed drawings of each part as Thomas carefully examined how Professor Henry had designed the magnet. It was shaped like a horseshoe with arms ten or twelve inches long with an opening of about six inches between them. Wire was wound back and forth over the horseshoe shape about an inch thick. The ends of this wire were contacted to galvanic cups made of copper and zinc layers.
After much observation, Thomas and Emily looked at one another, smiled, and then carefully and deliberately began taking the apparatus apart. Emily recorded in thorough detail every step of the process: “Copper wire of 3/32 inches in diameter wrapped counter clockwise about the left of the horseshoe, 43 coils the same, and then wrapped again atop the former in the same manner.”
Page after page Emily made careful notes and diagrams of their observations. It was well past midnight before they completed the dismantling--a miracle device reduced to scrap. Thomas and Emily were too close to understanding the nature of this miracle to stop for rest. It was time to try to build their own magnet. Thomas rushed from the house to the smithy to create a new, larger core of iron.
Emily woke Oliver where he had fallen asleep by the fire. “Oliver, you tried to tell me about getting the battery when you arrived but Thomas wouldn’t let you. He’s gone now to the smithy. Please, tell me what happened on the trip.”
“Well, this experience was almost more than my tolerance could bear. On the way, Thomas talked on and on about the wonder of electricity. Then when we got to Charlotte, there was a big crack in the ice out on the lake and I said, ‘We cannot get over it. We must go back.’
“But Thomas would not be disappointed. ‘No, we cannot go back. Jump the horse over!’
“The determination in Thomas’s voice overcame my good sense. I backed the wagon, took a deep breath, and yelled ‘Haw!’ The horse charged forward and jumped the crack in the ice. The wagon clunked loudly into the gap. I tell you, my heart nearly stopped beating. But, we made it over.”
Emily gasped and clasped her head with her hands. Oliver nodded in agreement with her fear.
“When we arrived in Crown Point it was Saturday evening and we found the iron works open for a public showing of the magnet. Thomas was so eager to see it, he even paid the penny for my admission fee.
“When we got inside, Thomas acted like a crazy man. He bounded about the magnet, observing every detail. We watched the horseshoe raise a 200-pound anvil from the floor when the cups were immersed in earthen mugs of acid. When the cups were lifted out of the solution, the anvil dropped to the ground with a thud. The owners charged each visitor a pence to see the demonstration, because, they said, the cups had to be replaced after a time and zinc was expensive.
“’What a wonder of nature and of Providence! A new kind of magnetic power!’ Thomas had exclaimed. ‘How are the cups made? How are they connected? What is the solution in the earthen mugs?’ But the men demonstrating the magnet knew nothing about how it worked.
“‘Why don’t you cut the wire instead of raising the cups? That will cause the magnet to release the anvil just the same as raising the cups,’ Thomas had suggested.
“That sounds just like Thomas--always wanting to find a better way,” agreed Emily. “Did they let him do it?”
“No. They told him, ‘Old Man Penfield will have our hides if anything happens to this device. If you want to experiment, you’ll have to buy your own.’”
“‘Is there another one?’ Of course, Thomas had to know.
“Can you believe it--the price of that little thing was $75.00.”
Emily shrieked. “Do you mean we just took destroyed something that cost $75.00?”
“Yup,” replied Oliver.
“But Thomas didn’t have that much money. How did he buy it?”
“Well, I tried to persuade Tom to leave, but he said ‘No, I must have the magnet. Oliver, you can sell goods from your peddler’s cart and raise the rest of the money.’
“I caved in. I figured we weren’t going to leave Crown Point without one of those magnets so I began auctioneering and the goods sold pretty well. I should have known something was fishy. I sold a pan for three shillings, supposing it was 50 cents. But those scoundrels were paying me in York shilling, not good Vermont coin. But it didn’t really matter. I couldn’t raise the money even with honest buying. Tom figured this out before I did so while I was hawking my wares, Tom took my horse and swapped it for a homely nag. With the proceeds from the auction and the horse trade, Tom scraped together enough money for the magnet.
“Emily, that horse is so old that I can out run, out pull and even out eat the poor thing. Tom promised to make it good to me but I fear I’ve given away my whole livelihood for the folly of this thing.”
“Oh, Oliver, Thomas is so single-minded when he’s excited. He wasn’t trying to exploit you,” Emily interjected.
“I know but I’m sick of this whole business. We didn’t even have money enough to buy a dinner on the way home. But you know Tom. He just said, ‘Never mind, maybe we shan’t want any’ because he was so happy with the magnet.’
“I’m sorry. I should have asked you if you were hungry when you came. I’ll make something now.”
“I’m much obliged, Emily. You know, my notion was that we exhibit the magnet and make some money but it seems you and Tom have other ideas. Do you want to be poor the rest of your lives?”
“Oliver, you’ve been so generous. We will make it up to you. Oh, there’s Thomas. I don’t have time to cook now. Help yourself to the biscuits and cheese in the cupboard.”
Thomas came running into the house wearing a large U- shaped iron around his neck like an oxen collar.
Now, he and Emily began to make a new magnet. They first coated the surface of the iron with glue. Then, Emily read her notes, “The original magnet was covered with a layer of silk after that, and every successive layer was separated by a layer of silk.”
Thomas picked up the frayed strips of silk pulled from the old magnet but as he tried to wrap the wires, the silk tore.
“It’s no use. We need strong, new silk.” Thomas couldn’t make silk in his blacksmith forge. “Emily, we can’t go on until we can afford to buy silk.” He admitted defeat as his head sank wearily onto the table.
Quietly, Emily slipped from the room and took something off the hook in the bedroom. Hearing her footsteps, Thomas looked up and saw his beautiful bride dancing toward him, holding her wedding dress up to her body. Without a word, Emily pulled up the hem of the dress. Slowly she ripped off a piece of the cloth and handed it to Thomas. Hesitantly, Thomas held out his trembling hand. Emily laid the silk in his palm and for a moment his fingers held hers covered with a layer of silk. Then Thomas carefully wrapped the silk onto the magnet.
Layer upon layer, they separated the wires with strips of Emily’s wedding dress. Together, they created a grand specimen of an electromagnet and a great shambles of a dress. Thomas looked up from the finished magnet to see Emily’s smiling face. “You will have many fine dresses someday,” he promised.
Holding hands, they walked to where Oliver had fallen back to sleep. “Wake up,” they nudged. “We need your help to set up the apparatus.”
The threesome carried the grand magnet to the smithy and suspended it above the anvil. They brought the mugs of acid from the peddler’s wagon and placed them on the floor. Fumbling with nervous fingers, Thomas straightened the wires and connected them to the magnet. Carefully he immersed the cups into the acid. In silence, they waited. . .and the giant anvil rose into the air.
“We’ve done it!” exclaimed Thomas and Emily as they embraced.
“It will lift a ton a minute!” gloated Oliver in the morning air.
“Now that I do have my own magnet, I can try cutting the wire instead of lifting the cups,” mused Thomas.
As he began refining the device, Emily returned to the house. What would life bring now? Would Oliver be able to make a wheel revolve with the magnet as he believed he could? Would machinery someday run on magnetism?
Authors’ Note: While some of the dialogue in this story is fictionalized, all the events are historically accurate, based on an interview with Oliver when he was 90 years old.
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