Chapter 140: New Product
On July 12, 1868, the Berlin Electric Company presented to the world its latest research achievement. Because of earlier publicity in the newspapers, this experiment attracted a large crowd.
The demonstration took place in Berlin, drawing many dignitaries and notables. Before the experiment began, Berlin Electric Company's advertising described it as an invention on par with the electric lamp.
The weather that day was clear.
In the city center, the Berlin Electric Company built a temporary site, setting aside positions for Berlin's high society and various reporters.
At ten o'clock in the morning, the area buzzed with voices; many Berlin residents had come out of curiosity. The staff pulled away the covering that hid the experimental apparatus.
Two half-open pavilions, spaced about a hundred meters apart, came into view.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Berlin Electric Company's launch of our newest product. We promise once again to amaze you. The Berlin Electric Company was founded…"
Holding a loudspeaker, the host began describing the company's illustrious history and range of business.
"As everyone knows, technology advances with each passing day, and Berlin and the German lands are the center of civilization. This experiment will prove once more that Germans lead the world…"
Seeing the audience grow impatient, the host cut to the main topic, refocusing on the experiment.
"Now, we'll have the staff remove the red covers. We are about to witness history."
At the host's signal, workers on both sides of the pavilions pulled away the cloth on the tables, revealing a set of oddly shaped devices.
"Can anyone guess what these might be?" the host asked the crowd.
A planted shill in the audience shouted, "They look like they have nothing to do with our daily lives—just from the look, who can tell what they do? Is it some kind of electric toy?"
The exchange indeed piqued the spectators' curiosity: what could these strange things be?
"Well then," said the host, "since everyone's curious what these devices do, I'll give you a clue: they're called 'telephones.' Can anyone guess their purpose from that name?"
From the audience, the planted shill yelled, "Telefon—sound from afar?" (In German, borrowed from Greek.)
"Sir, that you understand the meaning behind the word is wonderful. Indeed, it's derived from ancient Greek," the host and the shill bantered in their little performance.
If one looked deeper, their exchange wouldn't stand up to much scrutiny, but as this was a product launch, no one cared about such details. A company can name its device however it pleases.
"This device works similarly to the telegraph, yet differs in that a telegraph sends only electric signals, while a telephone can transmit speech over distance," the host revealed.
An uproar swept the crowd.
"Are you saying it's something for talking?" someone asked skeptically.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the telephone uses a line to carry people's voices across great distances, so naturally it can be used for conversation. If you doubt it, we'll do a live demonstration. Is there anyone willing to test it themselves?"
Someone in the audience raised a hand.
"You, sir! May I have your name?"
"I'm Baron Akela from Saxony."
"Baron, would you care to try the experiment in person?"
"Certainly!" the baron answered politely.
"Please come this way!" A staffer led the baron to the telephone apparatus.
"This is the earpiece, which you hold to your ear. Below is the mouthpiece. In a moment, when we power it on, you can speak something into the mouthpiece, and our colleague at the other end will record whatever you say," explained the staffer, handing him the receiver and microphone.
The staff then connected a circuit. After flipping a switch, one said, "Baron, you may begin."
The baron thought a moment, then pronounced a string of digits: "18450214."
At the distant pavilion, upon hearing the baron's numbers, the staff wrote them on a board, then held it up for all to see.
"Baron Akela! Are these the words you spoke?" the host asked.
"Yes, though I still can't believe it. Could you have them send that same phrase back through the machine for me to hear? Then I'll be convinced," said the baron.
"Of course, sir. Please hold the receiver again." The staffer directed him.
The baron complied. A staffer ran to the opposite pavilion, picked up the microphone, and spoke back: "Hello, Baron! 18450214—can you hear me?"
"Incredible! I can indeed hear you!" the baron exclaimed, thoroughly impressed.
Seeing his astonished reaction, the crowd all wanted to try it themselves.
"Gentlemen, feel free to come and experience this revolutionary invention," the host said deferentially to the VIPs and journalists.
The nobles were, after all, potential customers of Berlin Electric Company, and the reporters would spread the news of the telephone. As with the electric lamp, only the wealthy could afford such a luxury product at this stage. True, the lamp was getting cheaper, and though commoners couldn't use it at home, city governments in larger towns could finance public lighting.
So the dignitaries and journalists at the demonstration eagerly tested this device called a telephone.
Actually, for truly top-tier nobility, they'd seen it days earlier. The Prussian and Austrian courts had already begun installing telephone systems. King Wilhelm I, upon first sight, recognized its strategic value—he planned to introduce it in the Prussian army. Telegraphs offered a similar function, but required specialized operators, whereas a telephone only needed an officer to connect a call and speak orders directly.
As for the phone's invention, Ernst took advantage of a shortcut: Antonio Meucci was its true creator. An Italian-American from 1850 to 1862, Meucci built several models of long-distance voice transmitters—"telephonic devices"—but lacked the $250 fee for patent filing and thus never secured telephone rights. America apparently never recognized the telephone's immense value; Meucci had already published his invention in an Italian-language newspaper there, but nobody paid attention, so no company bought his patent.
Knowing from a past-life memory that Meucci had posted in an Italian newspaper, Ernst arranged for someone to search for him in the United States. Sure enough, that small Italian community recognized Antonio Meucci's name, so the Hechingen consortium quickly found him and purchased his patent.
Unlike in Meucci's earlier public mention of the phone, this time Berlin Electric Company's robust influence, courtesy of its success with electric lamps, meant its product launch drew society's full attention.
Sadly, after receiving the money, Antonio Meucci declined Berlin Electric's invitation, preferring to take his wife back to Italy for a rural life. Exhausted by years of financial struggle for his research, Meucci wanted to make it up to his wife, so he returned home to the countryside, no longer pursuing inventions.
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