Chapter Three: In A Hastings Attic

The early history of the subject of television dates back to 1817. The Swedish scientist Berzelius discovered selenium, a metalloid in the oxygen group with electrical properties. Then in 1873 a telegraph operator named Joseph May, working at the Velentia Cable Station in the West of Ireland, accidentally discovered that some selenium rods, which were used as resistances, altered in value under the influence of strong sunlight. The photosensitive properties of selenium led to the possibility of converting light waves into electrical impulses. This discovery was communicated to the Society of Telegraph Engineers and created widespread interest. Very soon selenium “cells” were constructed by Bell, Siemens and others, and these appeared to open up immense possibilities. In 1875 George R. Carey of Boston, Mass. outlined a suggestion for television based on the functioning of the human eye, but it wasn't until 1881 that another American, Shelford Bidwell, demonstrated a method for transmitting silhouettes.

There were many attempts and suggestions for transmitting moving pictures through the ether before the end of the century and many predicted that in a short time it would be possible to obtain vision over an ordinary telephone line. Paul Nipkov's disc scanner made use of the selenium cell, but like other inventors and demonstrators around at that time his equipment lacked the means of amplifying the impulses. It appeared that the capabilities of selenium to respond to the stupendous speed of signalling involved were greatly overrated. Speed was the essential thing in television, for the whole idea was to transmit images with such rapidity that they appeared instantaneous to the eye, with movements as smooth and natural as that seen on a cinema screen.

Selenium had not been the only means of turning light into electricity available to the earlier television experimenters, for in 1888 Hertz and Hallwach made discoveries which led to the construction of photo-electric cells. These new cells seemed at first to offer an alternative to the sluggish selenium as they were capable of being instantaneous in their action. However, the photoelectric cells proved insufficiently sensitive and would not respond to the small amount of light available. It was discovered that a human face, brilliantly illuminated by a powerful bank of lamps, reflected back less light than that of one candlepower.

So the problem of television, so simple in theory, had proved insurmountable in practise, and by the time John Logie Baird decided to begin experimenting with it once again (?), something like fifty years had passed with no appreciable progress being made. Not that the subject had been neglected. Indeed, skilled professionals had wrestled with the complex problems and many attempts had been made by research workers of various nationalities to find a workable system.

And so we are asked to believe that it was at No. 8 Queen’s Arcade, Hastings, that John Logie Baird, an amateur inventor who had left his scientific career behind some years before, commenced his first serious attempt to solve the problem of television. He occupied a small attic room over a lock-up artificial flower shop, had scant funds at his disposal, nothing in the way of professional laboratory equipment, and was dogged by ill-health. The one thing that he didn’t lack though was ingenuity, which he had in abundance.

In his little room the first crude television apparatus of makeshift objects was assembled on the washstand that he used as his workbench. His equipment is described in Ronald F. Tiltman's book: "An old tea chest, purchased for a few pennies formed the base that carried a motor, which rotated the exploring disc, while an empty biscuit box housed the projection lamp. Scanning discs were cut out of cardboard, and the mountings consisted of darning needles and old scrap timber. The necessary lenses on the optical side of the apparatus were procured from bicycle shops at a cost of fourpence each, while electric motors ready for the scrap-heap were pressed into service on duties for which they were never intended. At the time there were a great deal of ex-Government wirelesses available for a very minimal cost, and Baird bought scraps of these for his own use, adapting them to his needs. One or two old hat boxes were also utilised, and the whole conglomeration of bits and pieces was precariously held together with glue, sealing wax and odd lengths of string. These early experiments also demanded a high use of electricity and this was supplied by accumulators, (storage batteries similar to those used in motor vehicles), for lighting."

Although Baird was confident with the theory of creating an apparatus suitable to transmit pictures, he was less sure about actually building it and so, on June 27th 1923, he took out a small advertisement in 'The Times' Personal Column, which read: SEEING by WIRELESS. –Inventor of apparatus wishes to hear from someone who will assist (not financially) in making working model. –Write Box S.686; The Times, E.C.4

In spite of the advertisement, funds were limited and for months Baird laboured patiently in his attic, often visiting the local library to browse through technical books whenever he ran against snags in branches of science that were beyond his knowledge. Baird considered that the theory of television was quite simple. Tiltman's book says: "All the requirements seemed to be two optical exploring devices rotating in synchronisation, a light-sensitive cell of some sort, and a controlled light source, capable of extremely rapid variation, and all of these appeared to be, to use a Patent Office term, “already known to the art.” The problem of synchronisation appeared to have been practically solved in multiplex telegraphy: a number of optical exploring devices were known; the photo-electric cell in conjunction with the thermionic valve appeared to be a suitable light-sensitive device; and the glow discharge lamp seemed to be an ideal light source."

At the same time, Baird realised that despite the theoretical simplicity of the task, it had continually confounded many experimenters over the years as they tried to bring their designs to practical accomplishment. He found that the main difficulty lay in the light sensitive cell and therefore concentrated all his efforts on that part of the system.

In this he enlisted help, in some part from Victor Mills. In an article in the 'Hastings and St Leonards Observer' dated 4th November 1978, Mills described Baird’s recruiting method. Baird had read reports of a sophisticated wireless set built by a schoolboy at Hastings Grammar School. One day, in February 1923, Baird turned up on the doorstep of Mr Mills’ family home in Hughenden Road. Called to the door by his mother, Victor Mills encountered Baird for the first time with the inventor telling him about his work on television. “What’s television?” enquired young Victor. “Seeing by wireless,” replied Baird. “You probably know something about resonance. I’m getting a picture but can’t do anything with it. I’m getting too much noise.”

Mills soon became a frequent caller to Baird’s Queen’s Avenue address. “He had a collection of junk,” said Mills some years later. “I wouldn’t give you two pounds to sell the lot.” Mills claimed that he soon discovered the cause of Baird’s problem was that his selenium cells were too big. Mills also claims that on his second trip to Baird’s makeshift laboratory he took some of his own radio equipment with him. Whilst making adjustments, Mills put his hand in front of the illuminated apparatus. “I decided I’d got it right and just then Baird yelled out, “It’s here, it’s here!” And according to Mills the first pictures ever transmitted were of his hand.

This is yet another example of a contradictory account to what is held as popular history, which tells us that following months of unremitting work on his crude apparatus, Baird’s faith that he was pursuing the right line of investigation finally paid off when one afternoon, in early 1924 he got his various bits of equipment to hold together long enough to transmit the tiny pink flickering image of a Maltese cross over a distance of two to three yards, thereby achieving what no one had achieved before -the first image transmitted by television. But this would be at least twelve months after the Mills discovery. So had Baird successfully transmitted a television picture before 1924? Had he in fact been successful long before that in Bath Street between 1918 and 1919, or in the West Indies the following year? And if he had made such a crucial, groundbreaking leap forward in television development before 1924, then how could the news of such a monumental discovery be suppressed for anything up to six years?

There is no secret in the fact that Baird was very protective of his work. Even when his inventions went on public display or were photographed for publication in the press they were altered in some respect. As McArthur and Waddell expressed in their book 'The Secret Life of John Logie Baird' “Pictures for public consumption rarely portrayed his equipment as used.” These were, of course, pioneering days and its fairly certain that Baird would not want to give his competitors an edge in being the first to perfect television by revealing how he obtained his own results. However, this alone would not explain the secrecy behind Baird’s work.

Chapter Four: Secret Experiments

Article: Laurence Marcus 2003 - 2007.

http://www.teletronic.co.uk