BEGINNINGS OF SUBMARINE INVENTION
10:56 PM // 0 comments // sb blogger // Category: Aircraft , THE SUBMARINE BOAT , War , Weapons //In September, 1914 the British Fleet in the North Sea had settled down to the monotonous task of holding the coasts of Germany and the channels leading to them in a state of blockade. The work was dismal enough. The ships tossing from day to day on the always unquiet waters of the North Sea were crowded with Jackies all of whom prayed each day that the German would come from hiding and give battle. Not far from the Hook of Holland engaged in this monotonous work were three cruisers of about 12,000 tons, each carrying 755 men and officers. They were the Cressy, Aboukir, and Hogue—not vessels of the first rank but still important factors in the British blockade. They were well within the torpedo belt and it may be believed that unceasing vigilance was observed on every ship. Nevertheless without warning the other two suddenly saw the Aboukir overwhelmed by a flash of fire, a pillar of smoke and a great geyser of water that rose from the sea and fell heavily upon her deck. Instantly followed a thundering explosion as the magazines of the doomed ship went off. Within a very few minutes, too little time to use their guns against the enemy had they been able to see him, or to lower their boats, the Aboukir sank leaving the crew floundering in the water.
In the distance lay the German submarine U-9—one of the earliest of her class in service. From her conning tower Captain Weddigen had viewed the tragedy. Now seeing the two sister ships speeding to the rescue he quickly submerged. It may be noted that as a result of what followed, orders were given by the British Admiralty that in the event of the destruction of a ship by a submarine others in the same squadron should not come to the rescue of the victim, but scatter as widely as possible to avoid a like fate. In this instance the Hogue and the Cressy hurried to the spot whence the Aboukir had vanished and began lowering their boats. Hardly had they begun the work of mercy when a torpedo from the now unseen foe struck the Hogue and in twenty minutes she too had vanished. While she was sinking the Cressy, with all guns ready for action and her gunners scanning the sea in every direction for this deadly enemy, suddenly felt the shock of a torpedo and, her magazines having been set off, followed her sister ships to the ocean's bed.
In little more than half an hour thirty-six thousand tons of up-to-date British fighting machinery, and more than 1200 gallant blue jackets had been sent to the depths of the North Sea by a little boat of 450 tons carrying a crew of twenty-six men.
The world stood aghast. With the feeling of horror at the swift death of so many caused by so few, there was mingled a feeling of amazement at the scientific perfection of the submarine, its power, and its deadly work. Men said it was the end of dreadnoughts, battleships, and cruisers, but the history of the war has shown singularly few of these destroyed by submarines since the first novelty of the attack wore off. The world at the moment seemed to think that the submarine was an entirely new idea and invention. But like almost everything else it was merely the ultimate reduction to practical use of an idea that had been germinating in the mind of man from the earliest days of history.
We need not trouble ourselves with the speculations of Alexander the Great, Aristotle, and Pliny concerning "underwater" activities. Their active minds gave consideration to the problem, but mainly as to the employment of divers. Not until the first part of the sixteenth century do we find any very specific reference to actual underwater boats. That appears in a book of travels by Olaus Magnus, Archbishop of Upsala in Sweden. Notwithstanding the gentleman's reverend quality, one must question somewhat the veracity of the chapter which he heads:
"Of the Leather Ships Made of Hides Used by the Pyrats of Greenland."
He professed to have seen two of these "ships," more probably boats, hanging in a cathedral church in Greenland. With these singular vessels, according to his veracious reports the people of that country could navigate under water and attack stranger ships from beneath. "For the Inhabitants of that Countrey are wont to get small profits by the spoils of others," he wrote, "by these and the like treacherous Arts, who by their thieving wit, and by boring a hole privately in the sides of the ships beneath (as I said) have let in the water and presently caused them to sink."
Leaving the tale of the Archbishop where we think it must belong in the realm of fiction, we may note that it was not until the beginning of the seventeenth century that the first submarine boat was actually built and navigated. A Hollander, Cornelius Drebel, or Van Drebel, born in 1572, in the town of Alkmaar, had come to London during the reign of James I., who became his patron and friend. Drebel seems to have been a serious student of science and in many ways far ahead of his times. Moreover, he had the talent of getting next to royalty. In 1620 he first conceived the idea of building a submarine. Fairly detailed descriptions of his boats—he built three from 1620-1624—and of their actual use, have been handed down to us by men whose accuracy and truthfulness cannot be doubted. The Honorable Robert Boyle, a scientist of unquestioned seriousness, tells in his New Experiments, Physico-Mechanical touching the Spring of the Air and its Effects about Drebel's work in the quaint language of his time:
But yet on occasion of this opinion of Paracelsus, perhaps it will not be impertinent if, before I proceed, I acquaint your Lordship with a conceit of that deservedly famous mechanician and Chymist, Cornelius Drebel, who, among other strange things that he perform'd, is affirm'd, by more than a few credible persons, to have contrived for the late learned King James, a vessel to go under water; of which, trial was made in the Thames, with admired success, the vessel carrying twelve rowers, besides passengers; one which is yet alive, and related it to an excellent Mathematician that informed me of it. Now that for which I mention this story is, that having had the curiosity and opportunity to make particular inquiries among the relations of Drebel, and especially of an ingenious physician that married his daughter, concerning the grounds upon which he conceived it feasible to make men unaccustomed to continue so long under water without suffocation, or (as the lately mentioned person that went in the vessel affirms) without inconvenience; I was answered, that Drebel conceived, that it is not the whole body of the air, but a certain quintessence (as Chymists speak) or spirituous part of it, that makes it fit for respiration; which being spent, the remaining grosser body, or carcase, if I may so call it, of the air, is unable to cherish the vital flame residing in the heart; so that, for aught I could gather, besides the mechanical contrivances of his vessel, he had a chymical liquor, which he accounted the chief secret of his submarine navigation. For when, from time to time, he conceived that the finer and purer part of the air was consumed, or over-clogged by the respiration and steam of those that went in his ship, he would by unstopping a vessel full of this liquor, speedily restore to the troubled air such a proportion of vital parts, as would make it again, for a good while, fit for respiration whether by dissipating, or precipitating the grosser exhalations, or by some other intelligible way, I must not now stay to examine, contenting myself to add, that having had the opportunity to do some service to those of his relations that were most intimate with him, and having made it my business to learn what this strange liquor might be, they constantly affirmed that Drebel would never disclose the liquor unto any, nor so much as tell the nature whereof he had made it, to above one person, who himself assured me what it was.
This most curious narrative suggests that in some way Drebel, who died in London in 1634, had discovered the art of compressing oxygen and conceived the idea of making it serviceable for freshening the air in a boat, or other place, contaminated by the respiration of a number of men for a long time. Indeed the reference made to the substance by which Drebel purified the atmosphere in his submarine as "a liquor" suggests that he may possibly have hit upon the secret of liquid air which late in the nineteenth century caused such a stir in the United States. Of his possession of some such secret there can be no doubt whatsoever, for Samuel Pepys refers in his famous diary to a lawsuit, brought in the King's Courts by the heirs of Drebel, to secure the secret for their own use. What was the outcome of the suit or the subsequent history of Drebel's invention history does not record.
Throughout the next 150 years a large number of inventors and near-inventors occupied themselves with the problem of the submarine. Some of these men went no further than to draw plans and to write out descriptions of what appeared to them to be feasible submarine boats. Others took one step further, by taking out patents, but only very few of the submarine engineers of this period had either the means or the courage to test their inventions in the only practicable way, by building an experimental boat and using it.
In spite of this apparent lack of faith on the part of the men who worked on the submarine problem, it would not be fair to condemn them as fakirs. Experimental workers, in those times, had to face many difficulties which were removed in later times. The study of science and the examination of the forces of nature were not only not as popular as they became later, but frequently were looked upon as blasphemous, savouring of sorcery, or as a sign of an unbalanced mind.
Kadel & Herbert. A Gas Attack Photographed from an Airplane |
In Prance, two priests, Fathers Mersenne and Fournier, published in 1634 a small book called Questions Théologiques, Physiques, Morales et Mathématiques, which contained a detailed description of a submarine boat. They suggested that the hull of submarines ought to be of metal and not of wood, and that their shape ought to be as nearly fishlike as possible. Nearly three hundred years have hardly altered these opinions. Ancient French records also tell us that six years later, in 1640, the King of France had granted a patent to Jean Barrié, permitting him during the next twelve years to fish at the bottom of the sea with his boat. Unluckily Barrié's fish stories have expired with his permit. In 1654, a French engineer, De Son, is said to have built at Rotterdam a submarine boat. Little is known concerning this vessel except that it was reported to have been seventy-two feet long, twelve feet high, and eight feet broad, and to have been propelled by a paddlewheel instead of oars.
Borelli, about whom very little seems to be known, is credited with having invented in 1680 a submarine boat, whose descent and ascent were regulated by a series of leather bottles placed in the hull of the boat with their mouths open to the surrounding water. The English magazine, Graphic, published a picture which is considered the oldest known illustration of any submarine boat. This picture matches in all details the description of Borelli's boat, but it is credited to a man called Symons.
Twenty-seven years later, in 1774, another Englishman, J. Day, built a small submarine boat, and after fairly extensive experiments, descended in his boat in Plymouth harbour. This descent is of special interest because we have a more detailed record of it than of any previous submarine exploit, and because Day is the first submarine inventor who lost his life in the attempt to prove the feasibility of his invention. The Annual Register of 1774 gives a narration in detail of Day's experiments and death and inasmuch as this is the first ungarbled report of a submarine descent, it may be quoted at length.
"Sir,
"I found out an affair by which many thousands may be won; it is of a paradoxical nature, but can be performed with ease; therefore, sir, if you chuse to be informed of it, and give me one hundred pounds of every thousand you shall win by it, I will very readily wait upon you and inform you of it. I am myself but a poor mechanic and not able to make anything by it without your assistance.
"Your's, etc.
Photo by International Film Service. A French Nieuport Dropping a Bomb. |
In some short time afterwards the vessel was finished, and Mr. Day still continued eager for the carrying of his plan into execution; he was uneasy at the idea of dropping the scheme and wished for an opportunity to convince Mr. Blake that he could perform what he had undertaken. He wrote from Plymouth that everything was in readiness and should be executed the moment Mr. Blake arrived. Induced by this promise, Mr. Blake set out for Plymouth; upon his arrival a trial was made in Cat-water, where Mr. Day lay, during the flow of tide, six hours, and six more during the tide of ebb; confined all the time in the room appropriated for his use. A day for the final determination was fixed; the vessel was towed to the place agreed upon; Mr. Day provided himself with whatever he thought necessary; he went into the vessel, let the water into her and with great composure retired to the room constructed for him, and shut up the valve. The ship went gradually down in 22 fathoms of water at 2 o'clock on Tuesday, June 28, in the afternoon, being to return at 2 the next morning. He had three buoys or messengers, which he could send to the surface at option, to announce his situation below; but, none appearing, Mr. Blake, who was near at hand in a barge, began to entertain some suspicion. He kept a strict lookout, and at the time appointed, neither the buoys nor the vessel coming up, he applied to the Orpheus frigate, which lay just off the barge, for assistance. The captain with the most ready benevolence supplied them with everything in his power to seek for the ship. Mr. Blake, in this alarming situation was not content with the help of the Orpheus only; he made immediate application to Lord Sandwich (who happened to be at Plymouth) for further relief. His Lordship with great humanity ordered a number of hands from the dock-yard, who went with the utmost alacrity and tried every effort to regain the ship, but unhappily without effect.
Thus ended this unfortunate affair. Mr. Blake had not experience enough to judge of all possible contingencies, and he had now only to lament the credulity with which he listened to a projector, fond of his own scheme but certainly not possessed of skill enough to guard against the variety of accidents to which he was liable. The poor man has unfortunately shortened his days; he was not however tempted or influenced by anybody; he confided in his own judgment, and put his life to the hazard upon his own mistaken notions.
Many and various have been the opinions on this strange, useless, and fatal experiment, though the more reasonable part of mankind seemed to give it up as wholly impracticable. It is well-known, that pent-up air, when overcharged with the vapours emitted out of animal bodies, becomes unfit for respiration; for which reason, those confined in the diving-bell, after continuing some time under water are obliged to come up, and take in fresh air, or by some such means recruit it. That any man should be able after having sunk a vessel to so great a depth, to make that vessel at pressure, so much more specifically lighter than water, as thereby to enable it to force its way to the surface, through the depressure of so great a weight, is a matter not hastily to be credited. Even cork, when sunk to a certain depth will, by the great weight of the fluid upon it, be prevented from rising.
The English of the Annual Register leaves much to be desired in clarity. It makes reasonably clear, however, that the unfortunate Mr. Day's knowledge of submarine conditions was, by no means, equal to Mr. Blake's sporting spirit. Even to-day one hundred feet is an unusual depth of submersion for the largest submarines.
The credit for using a submarine boat for the first time in actual warfare belongs to a Yankee, David Bushnell. He was born in Saybrook, Connecticut, and graduated from Yale with the class of 1775. While still in college he was interested in science and as far as his means and opportunities allowed, he devoted a great deal of his time and energy to experimental work. The problem which attracted his special attention was how to explode powder under water, and before very long he succeeded in solving this to his own satisfaction as well as to that of a number of prominent people amongst whom were the Governor of Connecticut and his Council. Bushnell's experiments, of course, fell in the period during which the Revolutionary War was fought, and when he had completed his invention, there naturally presented itself to him a further problem. How could his device be used for the benefit of his country and against the British ships which were then threatening New York City? As a means to this end, Bushnell planned and built a submarine boat which on account of its shape is usually called the Turtle.
General Washington thought very highly of Bushnell, whom he called in a letter to Thomas Jefferson "a man of great mechanical powers, fertile in inventions and master of execution." In regard to Bushnell's submarine boat the same letter, written after its failure, says: "I thought and still think that it was an effort of genius, but that too many things were necessary to be combined to expect much against an enemy who are always on guard."
During the whole period of the building of the Turtle Bushnell was in ill health. Otherwise he would have navigated it on its trial trip himself for he was a man of undoubted courage and wrapped up alike in the merits of his invention and in the possibility of utilizing it to free New York from the constant ignominy of the presence of British ships in its harbour. But his health made this out of the question. Accordingly he taught his brother the method of navigating the craft, but at the moment for action the brother too fell ill. It became necessary to hire an operator. This was by no means easy as volunteers to go below the water in a submarine boat of a type hitherto undreamed of, and to attach an explosive to the hull of a British man-of-war, the sentries upon which were presumably especially vigilant, being in a hostile harbour, was an adventure likely to attract only the most daring and reckless spirits. In a letter to Thomas Jefferson, other portions of which we shall have occasion to quote later, Bushnell refers to this difficulty in finding a suitable operator and tells briefly and with evident chagrin the story of the failure of the attempts made to utilize successfully his submarine:
Photo by U. & U. A Bomb-Dropping Taube. |
After various attempts to find an operator to my wish, I sent one who appeared more expert than the rest from New York to a 50-gun ship lying not far from Governor's Island. He went under the ship and attempted to fix the wooden screw into her bottom, but struck, as he supposes, a bar of iron which passes from the rudder hinge, and is spiked under the ship's quarter. Had he moved a few inches, which he might have done without rowing, I have no doubt but he would have found wood where he might have fixed the screw, or if the ship were sheathed with copper he might easily have pierced it; but, not being well skilled in the management of the vessel, in attempting to move to another place he lost the ship. After seeking her in vain for some time, he rowed some distance and rose to the surface of the water, but found daylight had advanced so far that he durst not renew the attempt. He says that he could easily have fastened the magazine under the stem of the ship above water, as he rowed up to the stern and touched it before he descended. Had he fastened it there the explosion of 150 lbs. of powder (the quantity contained in the magazine) must have been fatal to the ship. In his return from the ship to New York he passed near Governor's Island, and thought he was discovered by the enemy on the island. Being in haste to avoid the danger he feared, he cast off the magazine, as he imagined it retarded him in the swell, which was very considerable. After the magazine had been cast off one hour, the time the internal apparatus was set to run, it blew up with great violence.
The operator to whom Bushnell had entrusted his submarine boat was a typical Yankee, Ezra Lee of Lyme, Connecticut. His story of the adventure differs but little from that of Bushnell, but it is told with a calm indifference to danger and a seeming lack of any notion of the extraordinary in what he had done that gives an idea of the man. "When I rode under the stern of the ship [the Eagle] I could see the men on deck and hear them talk," he wrote. "I then shut down all the doors, sunk down, and came up under the bottom of the ship."
This means that he hermetically sealed himself inside of a craft, shaped like two upper turtle shells joined together—hence the name of the Turtle. He had entered through the orifice at the top, whence the head of the turtle usually protrudes. This before sinking he had covered and made water-tight by screwing down upon it a brass crown or top like that to a flask. Within he had enough air to support him thirty minutes. The vessel stood upright, not flat as a turtle carries himself. It was maintained in this position by lead ballast. Within the operator occupied an upright position, half sitting, half standing. To sink water was admitted, which gathered in the lower part of the boat, while to rise again this was expelled by a force pump. There were ventilators and portholes for the admission of light and air when operating on the surface, but once the cap was screwed down the operator was in darkness.
In this craft, which suggests more than anything else a curiously shaped submarine coffin, Lee drifted along by the side of the ship, navigating with difficulty with his single oar and seeking vainly to find some spot to which he might affix his magazine. A fact which might have disquieted a more nervous man was that the clockwork of this machine was running and had been set to go off in an hour from the time the voyage was undertaken. As to almost anyone in that position minutes would seem hours, the calmness of sailor Lee's nerves seems to be something beyond the ordinary.
When he finally abandoned the attempt on the Eagle he started up the bay. Off Governor's Island he narrowly escaped capture.
When I was abreast of the Fort on the Island three hundred or four hundred men got upon the parapet to observe me; at length a number came down to the shore, shoved off a twelve oar'd barge with five or six sitters and pulled for me. I eyed them, and when they had got within fifty or sixty yards of me I let loose the magazine in hopes that if they should take me they would likewise pick up the magazine and then we should all be blown up together. But as kind providence would have it they took fright and returned to the Island to my infinite joy.... The magazine after getting a little past the Island went off with a tremendous explosion, throwing up large bodies of water to an immense height.
During the last quarter of the eighteenth and during the first half of the nineteenth century France was the chief centre for the activities of submarine inventors. However, very few of the many plans put forward in this period were executed. The few exceptions resulted in little else than trial boats which usually did not live up to the expectations of their inventors or their financial backers and were, therefore, discarded in quick order. In spite of this lack of actual results this particular period was of considerable importance to the later development of the submarine. Almost every one of the many boats then projected or built contained some innovation and in this way some of the many obstacles were gradually overcome. Strictly speaking the net result of the experimental work done during these seventy-five years by a score or more of men, most of whom were French, though a few were English, was the creation of a more sane and sound basis on which, before long, other men began to build with greater success.
The one notable accomplishment of interest, especially to Americans, was the submarine built in 1800-01 by Robert Fulton. Fulton, of course, is far better known by his work in connection with the discovery and development of steam navigation. Born in Pennsylvania in 1765, he early showed marked mechanical genius. In 1787 he went to England with the purpose of studying art under the famous painter West, but soon began to devote most of his time and energy to mechanical problems. Not finding in England as much encouragement as he had hoped, he went, in 1797, to Paris and, for the next seven years, lived there in the house of the American Minister, Joel Barlow.
As soon as he had settled down in France, he offered his plans of a submarine boat which he called the Nautilus to the French Government. Though a special commission reported favourably on this boat, the opposition of the French Minister of the Marine was too strong to be overcome, even after another commission had approved a model built by Fulton. In 1800, however, he was successful in gaining the moral and financial support of Napoleon Bonaparte, then First Consul of the French Republic.
Fulton immediately proceeded to build the Nautilus and completed the boat in May, 1801. It was cigar-shaped, about seven feet in diameter and over twenty-one feet in length. The hull was of copper strengthened by iron ribs. The most noticeable features were a collapsible mast and sail and a small conning tower at the forward end. The boat was propelled by a wheel affixed to the centre of the stern and worked by a hand-winch. A rudder was used for steering, and increased stability was gained by a keel which ran the whole length of the hull.
A Captured German Fokker Exhibited at the Invalides. |
Soon after completion the boat was taken out for a number of trial trips all of which were carried out with signal success and finally culminated, on June 26, 1801, in the successful blowing up of an old ship furnished by the French Government. Although the Nautilus created a great sensation, popular as well as official interest began soon to flag. Fulton received no further encouragement and finally gave up his submarine experiments.
A British Seaplane with Folding Wings. |
In 1806 he returned to America. By 1814 he had built another submarine boat which he called the Mute. It was, comparatively speaking, of immense size, being over eighty feet long, twenty-one feet wide, and fourteen feet deep and accommodating a hundred men. It was iron-plated on top and derived its peculiar name from the fact that it was propelled by a noiseless engine. Before its trials could be completed, Fulton died on February 24, 1815, and no one seemed to have sufficient interest or faith in his new boat to continue his work.
In the middle of the nineteenth century for the first time a German became seriously interested in submarines. His name was Wilhelm Bauer. He was born in 1822 in a small town in Bavaria and, though a turner by trade, joined the army in 1842. Bauer was even in his youth of a highly inventive turn of mind. He possessed an indomitable will and an unlimited supply of enthusiasm. Step by step he acquired, in what little time he could spare from his military duties, the necessary mechanical knowledge, and finally, supported financially by a few loyal friends and patrons, he built his first submarine at Kiel at a cost of about $2750. It sank to the bottom on its first trial trip, fortunately without anyone on board. Undaunted he continued his efforts.
When he found that his support at Kiel was weakening, he promptly went to Austria. In spite of glowing promises, opposition on the part of some officials deprived Bauer of the promised assistance. He went then to England and succeeded in enlisting the interest of the Prince Consort. A boat was built according to Bauer's plans, which, however, he was forced by the interference of politicians to change to such an extent that it sank on its first trial with considerable loss of life.
Still full of faith in his ability to produce a successful submarine, Bauer now went to Russia. In 1855, he built a boat at St. Petersburg and had it accepted by the Russian Government. It was called Le Diable Marin and looked very much like a dolphin. Its length was fifty-two feet, its beam twelve feet five inches, and its depth eleven feet. Its hull was of iron. A propeller, worked by four wheels, furnished motive power. Submersion and stability were regulated by four cylinders into which water could be pumped at will.
The first trial of the boat was made on May 26, 1856, and was entirely successful. In later trials as many as fourteen men at a time descended in Le Diable Marin. It is said that Bauer made a total of 134 trips on his boat. All but two were carried out successfully. At one time, however, the propeller was caught in some seaweed and it was only by the quickest action that all the water was pumped out and the bow of the boat allowed to rise out of the water, so that the occupants managed to escape by means of the hatchway. Like Fulton in France, Bauer now experienced in Russia a sudden decrease of official interest. When he finally lost his boat, about four weeks later, he also lost his courage, and in 1858 he returned to Germany where he later died in comparative poverty.
Contemporary with Bauer's submarines and immediately following them were a large number of other boats. Some of these were little more than freaks. Others failed in certain respects but added new features to the sum-total of submarine inventions. As early as 1854, M. Marié-Davy, Professor of Chemistry at Montpellier University, suggested an electro-magnetic engine as motive power. In 1855 a well-known engineer, J. Nasmith, suggested a submerged motor, driven by a steam engine. None of the boats of this period proved successful enough, however, to receive more than passing notice, and very few, indeed, ever reached the trial stage. But before long the rapid development of internal-combustion engines and the immense progress made in the study of electricity was to advance the development of submarines by leaps and bounds.