Matthew at Large

"Science of Sounds" (1891)

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About This Text

This is the 9th in a series of articles written in 1890 and 1891 by William Wordsworth Goodrich (1841-1907), professionally known as W.W. Goodrich, an architect who practiced in Atlanta between 1889 and 1894.

By now Goodrich's approach to writing is fairly predictable: posit yourself as an expert on a specific topic, weave in a few technical terms faintly recalled from some book or article, sprinkle in several imagined anecdotes and a heaping scoop of condescension. It doesn't have to make any sense as long as it sounds knowledgeable, right?

And on the subject of sounds, here Goodrich pontificates on the limited range of sound detectable to the human ear — he was after all, not just a fraudulent architect, but also an amateur acoustician. The article references several songs that would be mostly unfamiliar to modern readers — links to explanatory pages are provided.

For some reason, Goodrich tells a clearly fabricated story about encountering desert tarantulas in Arizona that would jump "by actual measurement eleven to fifteen feet to sting us with their deadly poisonous fangs". That is a longstanding myth which is completely false — tarantulas can generally only jump a few inches. As for his claim that "we would beat them to death with beaver tails", no comment is necessary.

The article also references a minor character from an obscure fairy tale by the Brothers Grimm, and theorizes that mules can hear quarter tones and half tones, based on a visual assessment of their "auricular appendages", by which he means ears.

Goodrich concludes with a description of the "multitudinous roar" and "brazen noises" of 1890s Atlanta: "braying mules", "the negro driver upon his dray", "steam whistles shrieking", and so forth. He opines that the fictional Prince Fine Ear "would go stark staring mad" in the cacophony of a 19th-century city, and concludes rather discordantly: "The less we cultivate our sense of hearing, the better it will be for the condition of your nerves."

Originally published in the Atlanta Journal newspaper on April 18, 1891, this article has been lightly edited to correct for spelling and grammatical errors.

Science of Sounds.

The Great Acoustic Possibilities.
One of Humanity's Finer Lenses.
Do the Auricular Nerves Convey Sound More Distinctly in the Present Day Than When Pre-historic Man Inhabited Caves and Trees?

Written for the Journal.

Eight musical notes cover the entire range of harmonious sounds which we are physiologically capable of appreciating.

It is true that this statement is to be modified, since music recognizes what are known as half tones, but they are only adjuncts or auxiliaries, and their general proposition is not affected materially by them.

With the eight notes or sounds, sub-divided into half tones, "only by the clearest of voices," all the music of the world has been sung, from the first gruesome sounds of the Adamite man to the exquisite renditions of "Jesus, Lover of My Soul", of our superb prima donna and leading sopranos of our many charming choirs. With these few notes, or tones, all the music of the world has been played, from the most stately symphony to the tune of the ragged waif, as his puckered lips whistles the melodies of the minstrel's lay, which have a certain crisp and charming rendition, at the gatherings of the street urchins. And who has not listened to these urchins' happy styles of vocalization, as perchance some dozen of them were fishing on a wharf after nightfall, and the calliope of some passing steamer was playing "Coming Through the Rye", or "My Old Kentucky Home, Good Night". With these few tones the great masters of harmony and melody brought into existence, enrapturing, grand, noble, soul inspiring melodies that have awakened in the human brain such longing and intensified desires to be like the meek and lowly Savior, as no other agent could possibly produce.

But suppose that by some process of cultivation or evolution, or electrical phenomena, the human ear should or could acquire such a delicacy and refinement of sensibility, as to be able to detect and classify quarter tones or eighth tones or tones beyond and outside of the present range of music. What a vast new field would be opened for the lover of music for music's sake.

The capacity of the composer would be increased in geometrical ratio, and the permeations and combinations which would be possible would baffle the skill of the most profound mathematician to compute.

And such an idea is not visionary. We have abundant and positive reason to believe that many of the lower orders of animals can hear sounds that are entirely inaudible to us.

There are insectoria that communicate with each other by means of sound, what we can not hear; and even mankind, in occasional instances, have acuteness of hearing which we believe prove that the auditory nerves have never been educated to their ultimate possibilities.

The tarantulas of Arizona in frequent instances which we have seen, before we could possibly see them, would get in right angle positions to which we were coming, even with our moccasins treading on the softest possible places, would present a fighting front and would jump by actual measurement eleven to fifteen feet to sting us with their deadly poisonous fangs. Only raw hide leggings prevented them from killing us and our party. As they would fasten into the soft raw hide we would beat them to death with beaver tails.

The fairy story of Prince Fine Ear, who could hear the grass growing, may be only a survival of an earlier age when the senses of mankind were unblunted by misuse or not dulled by disuse, and when there were myriads of sounds to which we are now wholly deaf.

Surely the variety of sounds one hears in riding in our street cars, as the lazy mule and obnoxious car go jolting along, are not conducive to musical melody, yet quarter and half tones might possibly be distinguishable “to the mules,” judging from the way they lay their auricular appendages backward for sounds.

There is, however, this objection to the acoustic evolution spoken of that in proportion of delicacy of hearing should be gained, the consciousness of discordant sounds would be greatly intensified, and probably the tension on the nerves would be vastly magnified.

Imagine a musician of the future with an ear finely attuned to the sweet concourse of rounds and capable of distinguishing tones which to our ears are soundless and meaningless, compelled to listen to the multitudinous roar of this great city, with all its brazen noises, its braying mules, clashing and clanging of machinery and locomotive engines, the negro driver upon his dray furiously and vociferously caressing his team with a black rawhide whip, steam whistles shrieking, and bells tolling out their early morning harshness to awaken the sick and tired body of the overworked and careworn woman attending her sickly babe, wagons rumbling over our rough belgian blocks, dogs growling and snarling, thomas cats mewing for the zephyrs of symphony of mamma cat on the back yard fences, roosters crowing the rising sun. In such a babble as this, Prince Fine Ear would soon go stark staring mad. And have to be deported for his own safety. As a whole, we are better off as we are. We may miss the music of the unheard, but we would escape the sounds which would be acute agony to the more delicate and sensitive ear. Unless we can bring all varied noises of this city into concord. The less we cultivate our sense of hearing, the better it will be for the condition of your nerves.

W.W. Goodrich