One Enemy vs. Twenty-Five Million Friends

The American public took a lively interest in the smallest details of the enterprise of the Gun Club. It followed day by day the discussion of the committee. The most simple preparations for the great experiment, the questions of figures which it involved, the mechanical difficulties to be resolved—in one word, the entire plan of work—roused the popular excitement to the highest pitch.

The American public took a keen interest in every detail of the Gun Club’s project. People followed the committee’s discussions day by day. Even the simplest preparations for the great experiment excited them. So did the calculations involved and the mechanical problems that had to be solved. In short, the entire plan stirred public excitement to its highest pitch.

The purely scientific attraction was suddenly intensified by the following incident:

The scientific interest suddenly grew stronger because of the following incident:

We have seen what legions of admirers and friends Barbicane’s project had rallied round its author. There was, however, one single individual alone in all the States of the Union who protested against the attempt of the Gun Club. He attacked it furiously on every opportunity, and human nature is such that Barbicane felt more keenly the opposition of that one man than he did the applause of all the others. He was well aware of the motive of this antipathy, the origin of this solitary enmity, the cause of its personality and old standing, and in what rivalry of self-love it had its rise.

We have seen how many admirers and friends Barbicane’s project had gathered around him. Yet in all the states of the Union, one man alone protested against the Gun Club’s attempt. He attacked it fiercely at every opportunity. And such is human nature that Barbicane felt that one man’s opposition more keenly than everyone else’s applause. Barbicane knew well why the man disliked him. He knew why the hatred was personal and long-standing, and how it had begun in a rivalry of pride.

This persevering enemy the president of the Gun Club had never seen. Fortunate that it was so, for a meeting between the two men would certainly have been attended with serious consequences. This rival was a man of science, like Barbicane himself, of a fiery, daring, and violent disposition; a pure Yankee. His name was Captain Nicholl; he lived at Philadelphia.

The president of the Gun Club had never seen this persistent enemy. Fortunately, the two men had never met, for a meeting would certainly have had serious consequences. Like Barbicane, this rival was a man of science. He was fiery, daring, and violent, a pure Yankee. His name was Captain Nicholl, and he lived in Philadelphia.

Most people are aware of the curious struggle which arose during the Federal war between the guns and armor of iron-plated ships. The result was the entire reconstruction of the navy of both the continents; as the one grew heavier, the other became thicker in proportion. The Merrimac, the Monitor, the Tennessee, the Weehawken discharged enormous projectiles themselves, after having been armor-clad against the projectiles of others. In fact they did to others that which they would not they should do to them—that grand principle of immortality upon which rests the whole art of war.

Most people know about the curious contest between guns and armor on ironclad ships during the Civil War. It led to a complete rebuilding of the navies of both continents. As the guns grew heavier, the armor grew thicker to match. The Merrimac, the Monitor, the Tennessee, and the Weehawken fired enormous projectiles. They had also been clad in armor to protect them from other ships' projectiles. In fact, they did to others what they would not have others do to them. That is the great principle of immortality on which the whole art of war rests.

Now if Barbicane was a great founder of shot, Nicholl was a great forger of plates; the one cast night and day at Baltimore, the other forged day and night at Philadelphia. As soon as ever Barbicane invented a new shot, Nicholl invented a new plate; each followed a current of ideas essentially opposed to the other. Happily for these citizens, so useful to their country, a distance of from fifty to sixty miles separated them from one another, and they had never yet met. Which of these two inventors had the advantage over the other it was difficult to decide from the results obtained. By last accounts, however, it would seem that the armor-plate would in the end have to give way to the shot; nevertheless, there were competent judges who had their doubts on the point.

Barbicane was a great maker of shot, while Nicholl was a great maker of armor plates. One cast shot night and day in Baltimore, while the other forged plates day and night in Philadelphia. Whenever Barbicane invented a new shot, Nicholl invented a new plate. Each followed a line of thinking directly opposed to the other. Fortunately for these citizens, who were so useful to their country, fifty to sixty miles separated them. They had never met. It was hard to tell from their results which inventor had the advantage. By the latest reports, however, it seemed that armor plate would eventually have to give way to shot. Even so, some qualified judges doubted it.

At the last experiment the cylindro-conical projectiles of Barbicane stuck like so many pins in the Nicholl plates. On that day the Philadelphia iron-forger then believed himself victorious, and could not evince contempt enough for his rival; but when the other afterward substituted for conical shot simple 600-pound shells, at very moderate velocity, the captain was obliged to give in. In fact, these projectiles knocked his best metal plate to shivers.

In the last experiment, Barbicane's cylindrical projectiles with conical tips stuck in Nicholl's plates like pins. That day, the Philadelphia ironworker believed he had won and could hardly show enough contempt for his rival. But afterward, Barbicane replaced the conical shot with simple 600-pound shells fired at a very moderate speed. The captain was forced to admit defeat. The shells shattered his best metal plate.

Matters were at this stage, and victory seemed to rest with the shot, when the war came to an end on the very day when Nicholl had completed a new armor-plate of wrought steel. It was a masterpiece of its kind, and bid defiance to all the projectiles of the world. The captain had it conveyed to the Polygon at Washington, challenging the president of the Gun Club to break it. Barbicane, peace having been declared, declined to try the experiment.

At this point, the projectile seemed to have won. Then the war ended on the very day Nicholl completed a new armor plate made of wrought steel. It was a masterpiece, able to withstand all the projectiles in the world. The captain had the plate taken to the Polygon in Washington and challenged the president of the Gun Club to break it. But since peace had been declared, Barbicane declined to try.

Nicholl, now furious, offered to expose his plate to the shock of any shot, solid, hollow, round, or conical. Refused by the president, who did not choose to compromise his last success.

Nicholl, now furious, offered to let any projectile strike his plate, whether solid, hollow, round, or conical. The president refused because he did not want to risk his latest success.

Nicholl, disgusted by this obstinacy, tried to tempt Barbicane by offering him every chance. He proposed to fix the plate within two hundred yards of the gun. Barbicane still obstinate in refusal. A hundred yards? Not even seventy-five!

Nicholl was disgusted by Barbicane's stubbornness and tried to tempt him by giving him every advantage. He offered to place the plate within two hundred yards of the gun. Barbicane still refused. A hundred yards? Not even seventy-five!

“At fifty then!” roared the captain through the newspapers. “At twenty-five yards! and I’ll stand behind!”

“At fifty, then!” the captain roared through the newspapers. “At twenty-five yards! And I’ll stand behind!”

Barbicane returned for answer that, even if Captain Nicholl would be so good as to stand in front, he would not fire any more.

Barbicane replied that he would not fire again, even if Captain Nicholl were kind enough to stand in front.

Nicholl could not contain himself at this reply; threw out hints of cowardice; that a man who refused to fire a cannon-shot was pretty near being afraid of it; that artillerists who fight at six miles distance are substituting mathematical formulae for individual courage.

Nicholl could not contain himself at this reply. He hinted at cowardice, saying that a man who refused to fire a cannon was almost afraid of it. He said that artillerymen who fight from six miles away substitute mathematical formulas for personal courage.

To these insinuations Barbicane returned no answer; perhaps he never heard of them, so absorbed was he in the calculations for his great enterprise.

Barbicane did not answer these insinuations. Perhaps he never heard them, because he was so absorbed in the calculations for his great undertaking.

When his famous communication was made to the Gun Club, the captain’s wrath passed all bounds; with his intense jealousy was mingled a feeling of absolute impotence. How was he to invent anything to beat this 900-feet Columbiad? What armor-plate could ever resist a projectile of 30,000 pounds weight? Overwhelmed at first under this violent shock, he by and by recovered himself, and resolved to crush the proposal by weight of his arguments.

When the famous announcement was made to the Gun Club, the captain’s anger knew no bounds. His intense jealousy was mixed with a feeling of complete helplessness. How could he invent anything to surpass this 900-foot Columbiad? What armor plate could ever withstand a 30,000-pound projectile? At first, the shock overwhelmed him. But he soon recovered and resolved to crush the proposal with the force of his arguments.

He then violently attacked the labors of the Gun Club, published a number of letters in the newspapers, endeavored to prove Barbicane ignorant of the first principles of gunnery. He maintained that it was absolutely impossible to impress upon any body whatever a velocity of 12,000 yards per second; that even with such a velocity a projectile of such a weight could not transcend the limits of the earth’s atmosphere. Further still, even regarding the velocity to be acquired, and granting it to be sufficient, the shell could not resist the pressure of the gas developed by the ignition of 1,600,000 pounds of powder; and supposing it to resist that pressure, it would be less able to support that temperature; it would melt on quitting the Columbiad, and fall back in a red-hot shower upon the heads of the imprudent spectators.

He then fiercely attacked the Gun Club’s work and published several letters in the newspapers. He tried to prove that Barbicane knew nothing of the basic principles of gunnery. He argued that it was absolutely impossible to give any object a speed of 12,000 yards per second. Even at that speed, he claimed, a projectile of such weight could not escape the earth’s atmosphere. Furthermore, even if the projectile could reach that speed and the speed were sufficient, the shell could not withstand the gas pressure produced by igniting 1,600,000 pounds of powder. And even if the shell withstood that pressure, it would be even less able to withstand the heat. It would melt as it left the Columbiad and fall in a red-hot shower on the heads of the reckless spectators.

Barbicane continued his work without regarding these attacks.

Barbicane continued his work, ignoring the attacks.

Nicholl then took up the question in its other aspects. Without touching upon its uselessness in all points of view, he regarded the experiment as fraught with extreme danger, both to the citizens, who might sanction by their presence so reprehensible a spectacle, and also to the towns in the neighborhood of this deplorable cannon. He also observed that if the projectile did not succeed in reaching its destination (a result absolutely impossible), it must inevitably fall back upon the earth, and that the shock of such a mass, multiplied by the square of its velocity, would seriously endanger every point of the globe. Under the circumstances, therefore, and without interfering with the rights of free citizens, it was a case for the intervention of Government, which ought not to endanger the safety of all for the pleasure of one individual.

Nicholl then considered other aspects of the question. Without even discussing how useless the experiment was from every point of view, he called it extremely dangerous. It endangered the citizens whose presence might lend approval to such a shameful spectacle. It also endangered the towns near this deplorable cannon. He observed that if the projectile failed to reach its destination, it would inevitably fall back to earth. Reaching its destination, he said, was absolutely impossible. The impact of such a mass, multiplied by the square of its velocity, would seriously endanger every point on the globe. Under these circumstances, the government should intervene without interfering with the rights of free citizens. It should not endanger everyone’s safety for the pleasure of one individual.

In spite of all his arguments, however, Captain Nicholl remained alone in his opinion. Nobody listened to him, and he did not succeed in alienating a single admirer from the president of the Gun Club. The latter did not even take the pains to refute the arguments of his rival.

Despite all his arguments, however, Captain Nicholl stood alone in his opinion. Nobody listened to him, and he failed to turn a single admirer against the president of the Gun Club. The president did not even bother to challenge his rival’s arguments.

Nicholl, driven into his last entrenchments, and not able to fight personally in the cause, resolved to fight with money. He published, therefore, in the Richmond Inquirer a series of wagers, conceived in these terms, and on an increasing scale:

Driven into a corner and unable to fight for his cause in person, Nicholl decided to fight with money. So he published a series of wagers in the Richmond Inquirer, each for a larger sum than the last:

No. 1 ($1,000).—That the necessary funds for the experiment of the Gun Club will not be forthcoming.

No. 1 ($1,000): The funds needed for the Gun Club’s experiment will not be raised.

No. 2 ($2,000).—That the operation of casting a cannon of 900 feet is impracticable, and cannot possibly succeed.

No. 2 ($2,000): Casting a 900-foot cannon is impractical and cannot possibly succeed.

No. 3 ($3,000).—That is it impossible to load the Columbiad, and that the pyroxyle will take fire spontaneously under the pressure of the projectile.

No. 3 ($3,000). It is impossible to load the Columbiad, and the pyroxyle will ignite spontaneously under the projectile's pressure.

No. 4 ($4,000).—That the Columbiad will burst at the first fire.

No. 4 ($4,000): That the Columbiad will burst when first fired.

No. 5 ($5,000).—That the shot will not travel farther than six miles, and that it will fall back again a few seconds after its discharge.

No. 5 ($5,000): The shot will travel no farther than six miles. It will fall back a few seconds after being fired.

It was an important sum, therefore, which the captain risked in his invincible obstinacy. He had no less than $15,000 at stake.

So the captain was risking a large sum because of his unyielding stubbornness. He had no less than $15,000 at stake.

Notwithstanding the importance of the challenge, on the 19th of May he received a sealed packet containing the following superbly laconic reply:

Despite the importance of the challenge, he received a sealed packet on May 19 containing this wonderfully brief reply: