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Authors: Emily Barton

Brookland (47 page)

BOOK: Brookland
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Pearl drew her skirts closer toward her as she walked forward to join him near the center of the span. Her lips were slightly pursed.

“And you, Miss Winship?”

Prue went to stand at Ben's other side. She imagined she felt the bridge give under her weight, though it could not have. Now all three of them were standing on it, and it hadn't even squeaked. She was relieved it hadn't broken; they had, after all, tested it only minimally, and were unsure of its ultimate strength with its abutments thus moored to the platform and not anchored in solid ground.

Now the gentlemen were talking out of turn again. Mr. Stryker was once more asking for order.

“And if half the men in this room wanted to climb on, too,” Ben said, “it would support them. Are there any takers?” Not one of the men volunteered, but Ben waved to some of the porters. “Come, might as well. A number of you can fit.”

In fact, the bridge held every one of them; Prue imagined they must all resemble rooks lined up along the eaves of a barn. They stood there, some still and some hopping up and down; the fellow beside Prue was chuckling to himself, as was Mr. Stryker. “Have you further questions, Ulster County?” he asked.

“For the nonce, I have none,” Mr. Pierrepont said, and sat down.

As they climbed off and returned to their places, Prue felt a moment of exultation that it had held, and another stab of jealousy that it was not she presenting it. Pearl also looked bothered by something; perhaps she, too, who had given so much to the model and elevation, wished she might contribute to Ben's exposition.

“Representative from Chenango?” Stryker said.

“Yes, sir. I seek to know by what method such a structure can even be built.”

“A good question,” Stryker said, and turned to Ben with an affable expression.

Ben did not appear the least bit nervous. This vexed Prue, though she was delighted he could present their case so eloquently. She recalled her own dry throat when she'd stood before the people of Brooklyn and she fumed at his composure. “A good question, indeed, Mr. Assemblyman,” Ben said. “As you perhaps all well know, each arch of a traditional bridge must be built over a wooden centering, which supports it until its keystone is set in place and can bear the weight of its two arms. Such a centering involves great expenditure both in timber and in labor. In a bridge of this size, once it was floated into place it would block off the river and both ports altogether.

“Some of the great bridge builders of our time have built admirable structures upon this plan. Mr. Telford and Mr. Pritchard of Great Britain have constructed numerous arched masonry bridges whose elegant lines bespeak their strength. Almost twenty years ago now, Mr. Pritchard, in connection with a metalsmith named Mr. Abraham Darby, successfully built at Coalbrookdale a similar bridge with its members made up entirely of cast iron—a feat many naysayers had thitherto pronounced impossible. Mr. Thomas Pope of Philadelphia is even now constructing a large-span timber and masonry bridge over the Schuylkill River. Need I ask if, as proud New Yorkers, we should allow Pennsylvania to be the first state to fund such a bold and salutary public works?”

“No, sir,” one of the assemblymen cried out, “but we should first bridge the cataract at Niagara Falls! That would put Pennsylvania to shame.”

Mr. Stryker hit his gavel on the table once more. “Representative from Niagara County, you will not speak out of turn!”

“Apologies, Mr. Speaker, Mr. Horsfield,” the assemblyman said.

Ben gave a gracious nod; Prue once again remarked upon his apparent ease. “Niagara's claim is pressing indeed,” Ben said, “but I respectfully argue that the East River's is even more so. The traffic to and from the deepwater ports at Brookland and New York is at present the greatest
in the nation; if we can connect them by so magnificent a means, their allure to foreign and domestic shippers will surely increase.

“But I must return to the specifics of my plan, and to the impracticability of building an arch of such size over a wooden centering, thus blocking ingress to both ports. I ask you, esteemed assemblymen, to recall that unlike a traditional arched bridge, the two sides of my bridge do not thrust their weight in toward their central keystone, but
outwards
, toward the anchorages, exactly as a springboard thrusts its weight not toward its tip but toward its support. It should be immediately apparent from this circumstance alone that my bridge will require no centering crutch. Continue along this line of reasoning and you will deduce the method by which I propose to construct this bridge: which is to
begin from
its anchorages and to progress thence from the strongest parts of the levers out to their slender tips. During its construction it will be
entirely self-supporting
, from beginning to end. The two arms will grow out from the banks simultaneously, and one day simply meet in midair, high above the river. Traffic upon the straits will not be disturbed for a single day—unless you count the disturbance caused by the captains of ships pausing to gawp at such an awesome sight.”

Some of the gentlemen chuckled again. Prue did not know how Ben had brought them to this point, but knew she could never have done so herself, even had she been a man.

“The timber for each day's work can be floated by barge to its appropriate location and, by means of a crane operated by the strength of one or two men, hoisted to its position.” They did not yet have a drawing of the crane; it was their good luck no one asked to see it.

Mr. Pierrepont continued to nod, as if he had been called upon to concede some point. Prue looked around to see if she could intuit the opinions of those around him; and while some still appeared angry or bewildered, many were scanning the drawings with interest. “Mr. Horsfield,” Pierrepont said, “has it not occurred to you that were it
possible
to build a bridge upon your plan, the great architects would have done so long ago?”

Prue was glad Pearl was not taking part in this discussion, and equally glad Tem was in Brooklyn.

“Quite the contrary,” Ben said with ease. “Had no one ever attempted
to build something that had not been built before, there should be no great bridges, nor cathedrals, nor the Pyramids at Giza. It is through experimentation that science progresses; and the same is true for these homely arts that follow in science's wake.”

“But it is all well and good to build a doll-model,” Mr. Pierrepont said. “How do you know the thing itself would stand?”

Ben paced back and forth before Stryker's desk. Prue thought he must have been catching his breath. “As King's County's surveyor, I believe I have more ability to judge the plan's practicability, if you will excuse my saying so, than any other man present. I have myself surveyed the site, examined the quality of the soil, rock, and sand on which the foundations are to rest, projected the bridge's course, and measured the speed and strength of the winds and currents in the vicinity. I have conducted numerous experiments to determine the relative strengths of timbers in tension and compression, and conclude that my calculations will allow me to build a bridge to withstand any stresses likely to be placed upon it by traffic, the structure's intrinsic weight, or exigencies of weather. The model itself cannot prove that such a bridge would hold; the actual bridge would be two hundred fifty times the length of the one you see before you, but its weight would be exponentially greater. My design accounts for this, of course. I propose that my next step in realizing the bridge should be to build one at a twenty-fifth the size of the eventual structure—ten times as large as the model you see before you. This would allow me to test the methods of construction and to ascertain that the principles hold true at a greater magnitude.”

“Further questions?” Stryker asked.

Garret Willemsen stood. “What do you reckon this bridge will cost, sir?”

Ben cleared his throat. “As you know, Mr. Willemsen, most of Brookland's great timber was harvested during the late war by our enemies, for their fortresses and ships. Thus, timber will have to be floated downriver, and the costs in that regard may prove high. But the New York and Brookland Bridge should prove a veritable boon for the timber merchants of northern New York.” He smiled around to the assemblymen and senators; he was surely correct in supposing this was how some of those present had made their fortunes. “Assuming the workers to be paid a fair wage for the proposed period of two years, the total sum, in timber,
iron, and men, should be in the vicinity of three hundred thousand dollars.”

The legislators burst out with more complaints and questions, and Stryker banged his table again. “Order!” he called, more irritably than before. It took a moment, but the representatives complied. “If the men of this assembly agree to pass your request along to the governor, how much of that sum will you ask him to supply?”

“I would ask him to supply it nearly entire, sir.” Ben took a deep breath, straining the new buttons of his coat. “It is a public work, for the public weal. It must be funded with public money.”

“But sir,” Mr. Stryker said, his face showing real concern, “we cannot even agree on an appropriation to build ourselves a state government. And believe me, that would require a far smaller sum than the one you seek.”

“I understand,” Ben said. “But in truth, a bridge is a matter of pressing importance, and if it is to be built, there is no other way. Miss Winship has graciously agreed to donate land for the bridge's Brookland footing and to assume a share of the costs. I myself shall do the same, though my assets as a private man are perforce smaller than those of Winship Gin. Beyond that, I propose to sell subscriptions in New York and Brookland, that interested parties might contribute to the cost of the works and reap the profits in tolls later on.

“Let me be clear, however, that before we undertake such a vast expenditure, we shall begin with a smaller one: the building of the second model bridge at the aforementioned scale. While this project too will come at its cost—fourteen thousand dollars, if I reckon true—it is only a fraction of the cost of a bridge itself, and I believe the most prudent course of action, as it will allow a more detailed and intricate study of the laws of natural philosophy as they pertain to such a structure. If you gentlemen and Governor Jay would consent to grant me monies sufficient for that endeavor, I would have far more solid evidence of the plan's feasibility when the time comes to request funding for an actual bridge.

“If I may add one thing more: The citizens of Brookland are strongly in favor of this project. When Miss Winship and I presented it to them a few weeks since, they were packed tight as salt cod in a barrel, and offered hundreds of their signatures in testimony, which we have since submitted for your perusal. Mayor Varick and the aldermen of New York
City have likewise written to you of their support. I know that Niagara County and others to our state's far north may wonder why they should allocate such vast sums to a project their constituents will never see. I argue that the New York and Brookland Bridge will redound to the honor of every man in this state; that it will stand as a monument to our fortitude, and that it will increase revenues so greatly, it will improve the fortunes of every New Yorker. That is all I shall say in my own defense, though I shall remain in Albany, should you wish to question me further on any aspect of the proposal. I thank you for taking the time to hear our cause.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Stryker said. He placed one long hand on a sheaf of papers that looked to be the petition. “Are there further questions?” he asked once more of the room. A younger representative stood and raised his hand. “Representative from Saratoga?”

“I only wish to say, sir, that although I represent the north, I think the bridge beautiful.” He nodded and sat back down.

“Thank you, Mr. Gannon.” Stryker turned to Ben and said, “We shall begin discussion of this matter this very afternoon. May I ask you to leave this facsimile and these plans here, that we may observe them during our discussion?”

“By all means, sir,” Ben answered.

“If that is all, gentlemen?” Stryker said, and people began to rustle and murmur as if it was. “Thank you, Mr. Horsfield, Miss Winship, Miss Pearl. I promise you nothing, but you will have word from us as soon as is feasible.”

Pearl and Prue curtsied again, and followed Ben back out to the hall. The senators who stood nearest the door made way for them; and many of them, as well as the assemblymen, grumbled as they passed. Few would meet their eyes. Willemsen, however, nodded to Prue as she walked past him; she wasn't certain she could read his expression, but she thought his acknowledgment a good sign. Willemsen's driver and beautiful horses had gone off to wherever they were stabled, and it seemed to have become an ordinary, sunny day in a busy district.

Ben waited until they were well out into the street to turn to them, grinning, and shout, “It went admirably, do you not think?”

“You did not allow me a word,” Prue said, and quickened her stride.

“Prue?”

“And never once mentioned Pearl's contribution. Why in Heaven's name do you suppose they thought she was standing there? For the pathos of it?” She was mortified that this had been her original reason for desiring Pearl's presence.

Ben caught up to them, and interposed himself between them. “I am sorry, Prue, Pearl; but you must agree with me, it went well. They were impressed by the proposal. I should not be at all surprised to find it on Governor Jay's desk in the next few days.”

“It is not entirely a question of how the interview went,” Prue said, charging ahead into an intersection. A man driving his team swerved to avoid her, and shouted curses at her over his shoulder. “I agree, Ben: You explained my dreams as eloquently as I could hope. The assembly's decision is their own, and depends upon circumstances none of us can envisage, let alone control. I simply hadn't reckoned on feeling such jealousy as you made the presentation.”

BOOK: Brookland
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