The Atlantic Monthly | Page 4

this gear-drill-stock, upon a larger ring, one inch in
diameter and three eighths of an inch in width, in a groove upon its
periphery one fourth of an inch in width, and across the sides of the
ring in two directions, I wound three thousand four hundred and
eighty-four yards, or nearly two miles, of silk. The length was estimated

by accurately determining the different dimensions of the ring where
wound upon, and multiplying by this the number of revolutions of the
cylinder per minute (170), and this product again by the number of
minutes of actual winding (285), deducting from the gross time of
winding (about nine hours) each moment of stoppage for any cause.
This was late in the fall of 1864, and, our specimens being sent home,
further experiments, and even thoughts upon the subject, were
prevented by the expedition against the Charleston and Savannah
Railroad, and the many changes of station that followed the disastrous
battle of Honey Hill. But, when I was at the North in February, 1865, a
friend expressed to me his confident belief that this new silken product
could be made of practical utility, and advised me to make inquiries on
the subject. So, before presenting it to the scientific societies, I tested
the strength of the silk by attaching to a fixed point one end of a thread
one four-thousandth of an inch in diameter, and tying the other end
upon the arm of an accurate balance: weights were then dropped in to
the amount of fifty-four grains before the line was broken. By a
calculation from this, a solid bar of spider's silk, one inch in diameter,
would sustain a weight of more than seventy tons; while a similar bar of
steel will sustain only fifty-six, and one of iron twenty-eight tons. The
specimens were then exhibited to Professors Wyman, Agassiz, and
Cooke, of Harvard University, to all of whom the species of spider was
unknown, though Professor Wyman has since found a single specimen
among some insects collected at the South; while to them as well as to
the silk-manufacturers the idea of reeling silk directly from a living
insect was entirely new. The latter, of course, wished to see a quantity
of it before pronouncing upon its usefulness. So most of my furlough
was spent in making arrangements for securing a number of the spiders,
and reeling their silk during the coming summer. These comprised six
light wooden boxes with sliding fronts, each eighteen inches wide and
high and one foot deep, and containing six tin trays one above another,
each of which, again, held twenty-four square paper boxes two and a
half inches in diameter, and with lids closed by an elastic. Into these the
spiders were to be put for transportation. Then I had made a costly
machine for reeling the silk, which, however, proved of no practical
value.

In March, with these and other real or fancied adjuvants, (some of
which proved even less useful and trustworthy than the machine,) but,
above all, with a determination to put this matter to the test of actual
experiment, I rejoined the regiment at Charleston, which had just fallen
into our hands. It was not until April, however, that we were so situated
that I could make any attempt to get spiders. Of course it was not
expected that the full-grown ones should be found at that season, but
the eggs or young should be abundant where the spiders had been in the
summer.
Before recounting my adventures in pursuit of my spinster friends, it
may be well to say a few words of the locality which they inhabited.
[Illustration: Fig. 2. Map of Charleston and Vicinity.]
Charleston stands upon the extremity of a narrow peninsula, between
the Cooper and the Ashley Rivers. Charleston Harbor, supplied by
these and some smaller streams, lies between Mt. Pleasant and
Sullivan's Island on the northeast, and James and Morris Islands on the
southwest. One cannot but be struck with the resemblance, so great as
to be almost symmetrical, between the two sides of the harbor. Mt.
Pleasant and James Island are quite high land,--high at least for the
coast of South Carolina,--and are separated from the mainland, the one
by the Wando River, the other by Wappoo Creek; while Sullivan's
Island, where stand Fort Moultrie and other Rebel batteries,
corresponds almost precisely to Morris Island, both being low and
sandy, and being, as it were, bent inland from the sea, with sharp points
looking toward the city, their convex shores forming a rounded
entrance to the harbor. Extending southward from Morris Island, and
separated from it by Lighthouse Inlet, is Folly Island; and in exact
correspondence to the latter, north of Sullivan's Island, and separated
from it by Breach Inlet, is a similar