“Where’s my husband?” She asked, “Dinner has been ready for ages.”
“Sorry Mam,” the maid replied, “I think he is in the workshop.”
Sarah shook her head, their first Christmas together and he was working. He had seemed distracted all though the service that morning and had left her as soon as they returned home.
She walked down the narrow stairs to his workshop. He was seated on a tall stool by his workbench, watching something. Curious she approached, there was a strange buzzing, like a trapped fly. Then she saw what he was looking at, in front of him a wire was spinning round rapidly.
“Michael,” he didn’t seem to hear her, “Michael Faraday.” She said much louder and tapped him on his shoulder, he seemed to wake out of a trance.
“Oh, Sarah, I’ve done it.” For a moment he smiled at her, then turned again to the spinning wire.
“What have you done?”
“You see, the current flows through this wire and creates a magnetic field which works against the field in this magnet ….”
“And makes the wire move.” She completed.
“Yes.” He was watching his invention dreamily again.
“Will it keep moving if you leave it for an hour or so?”
“Yes, the motive force will last as long as there is power in the battery.”
“Then come and have dinner, it is Christmas after all.”
She took his hand and led him, reluctantly, from the room, behind them the first electric motor, another Christmas baby with an amazing future, kept on spinning.
Michael Faraday, when he invented the motor
And that, more or less, is the tale I was told many years ago.