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THE

DAILY

MIRROR

Wednesday, July 21, 1937

Marconi is d e a d . Marconithe genius wlio d i d n e a r l y everything for wireless e x c e p t discover t h e a c t u a l principle a n d t h e o r y of wireless w a v e s . He b r o u g h t happiness t o millions all over t h e w o r l d . H e saved lives at sea by his inventions. H e was always fighting to b r i n g new blessings to m a n kind. But h e h a d o n e GREAT FAILURE. T h e blessing h e w a n t e d t o b e s t o w ^ h e could n o t . . . .

There Were Tears in His Eyes When He Said:

DISILLUSIONED..

"N'

O, I have no miracles to-day," he said," but please come m. I had never listened to his soft, slow words before that day, and I have never listened to them since. Just fortj treasured minutes I passed.in his presence; no mors

than that. But in those forty minutes I learned moreso much moreabout the modest genius \vhom MussoUni has enthroned as The Magician of Space than from ali I had ever read or studied of !iis life.

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Side by side we were standing in a rose-tinted suite on the very top floor of a vast hotel. " A charming view, isn't it ? " he said. " My wife likes it herehigh up: high up in the clouds." We talked; looked up at the burning sun, then down upon the crazy confusion of roofs that is London. The Marchese was visiting "Italy worships your very name. England once more with the graceful Marchesa. "You are the weaver of spells and the For businessfor pleasure; for work to him was maker of miracles, a man they think of as a life itself, and idleness a living death. god. But . . . are you happy ? " " That world below has bestowed upon you It was an intimate question. And I waited more honours than upon any other living for an honest answer. scientist," I said. " The universities of every " Yes," said the Senator. " I think I can say great capital have been proud to lay their I am. degrees at your feet, and crown you with their " I have seen my dreams come true, yet fidoration. know that there can never be an end to my

By Hugh Cudlipp

dreaming. I have a lovely wifeand lovely children. And there is my country to serve. My yacht to enjoy, andwell, why shouldn't I be happy ? " We discussed his years of labour, the experiments upon which he had slaved all his life. And then I came to my last question. " Look at that world below. That world is proud of you, Marconi. Is Marconi proud of himself ? " The gentle smile faded, and he turned to me a little shyly. " No one," he said, " has ever asked me that question before, and I am sorry that you have asked me now." " Thenis there no answer ? " " "^es," he said. " And that answer is ' No.' Marconi Is not proud. Marconi is ashamed."
This.

WIFE NEVER If KNOW!

a solemn pledge. He swore that he would work to bring the world Peacework hard and lovingly, all his life, for the ideal that seemed to him so sweet, so just, so wonderful.

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From the lips of the first man to visualise and materialise the huge commercial possibilities of wireless waves. This confession, Fi'om the brilliant scientist who had made the Radio into the great world force tiiat has now become so terrifying in its vastness. The Radio that made a new world . ; . andwho knowsmay plunge it soon into the hoiTor and bloodshed of another hellish war. These tears. Prom Senator the Marchese Guglielmo Marconi, "the man who was wireless." He told me then the secret of his sorrow, the secret that I shall tell to you. But fli^t, please read this little story . . , It is the morning of Thursday, December 12, 1901; a wild wintry day. A young man of twenty-seven Is waiting in an old army barracks on a hill in Newfoundland, his face aflame with hope; and on his lips a prayer to God for victory. Pour hundred feet above, battered to and fro by the fury of the wind, there flies a kite, and hanging from it is an aerial. Two thousand miles away, on the coast of Cornwall, is the transmitter which Marconi and Dr. Fleming had set up five months before the fateful day. . It is 12 noon, now: the,time for the signal to be sent across the ether. Just three magic " dots "the Morse symbols " If only the experiment succeeds ! " Marconi looks at the grim, determined faces of his two assistants. Then Brr . . , brr . . . brr. He had heard a faint sound. " Listen, Kemp ! " Err . . . brr . . . brr. " Do you hear it, Kemp ? " " YesI d o ! The message Is through I It works!" Marconi had bridged the great Atlantic. Marconi had conquered the world. " T h a t was what I thought," said the inventor as we still looked down upon the city.

I linew now the secret of his sorrow. Remembercd the headlines that had recorded the fruits of Iiis Inbours. " Marconi's Great New War Invention." " Death Ray. Marconi's Latest." And so on. Marconi, the young idealist, became swept up in the afSairs of state. He wanted to become the saviour of the world. Instead he became a citizen of Italy, a soldier of Mussolini. " I cannot speak of these things," he said to me. " But please do not ask me If I am proud. . . . " We were Interrupted then by the tovel/ Marchesa, the scientist's wife. " I will go and get the new snapshots of the yacht," she said. " Here are our childrcn-^see them ? And this one is of Mussolini photographed with them. And here you see my husband receiving the honour bestowed upon him by . . ," It was time to leave. And Marconi saw me to the door. " I do not want the JVIarchesa to knoiv of what I have been gpeaking," he said. " It is too late now to do anything. I am, after all, an old man. She must never know .how I have failed." He showed me then the little treasure of which he was proudest. " This medalit is made of goldwas given to me by the survivors of the Titanic. " I got that medal for saving lives," he said,

PROUD.

" I thought I had conquered the world for manliind."

But no. Mankind had conquered him. As he sat in that hut, he told me, he made She showed mc pictures
liiisi>!iiid."

ol ber