A SUCCESSFUL DIVING BOAT
From the time of Fulton to the outbreak of the American Civil War there were few attempts at submarine navigation. On the opening of this war, however, efforts were made to perfect diving boats; and these efforts were so well directed that eventually one of these boats succeeded in destroying the Federal boat Housatonic in Charleston Harbor on the night of February 17, 1864.
The submarine that accomplished this was one of the most remarkable boats ever constructed. It was cigar shaped, about sixty feet long, and carried a crew of nine men. It was submerged partly by means of ballast tanks and partly by lateral fins. As a weapon it carried a spar torpedo fastened to its blunt nose. It was propelled by hand-power, eight of the nine members of the crew working on a crank which actuated the propeller. The ninth man, crouching in the bow, steered the boat. No reserve air was carried, and consequently the length of time the boat could remain submerged was limited to a very few minutes. On account of this, and because of its unfortunate career, it was aptly called the "peripatetic coffin"; and it justified this name by sinking five different times, drowning thirty-five out of forty of the members of its different crews. Nevertheless it succeeded in destroying an American war vessel, thus demonstrating that this feat is possible under condition of actual warfare.
The submarines of the Civil War came to be known by the general name of "Davids," and several of them of different types were built. The only successful attack of any of these Davids, however, was the one which destroyed the Housatonic. In his book, The Naval History of the Civil War, Admiral Porter described this attack upon the Housatonic as follows:—
"At about 8.45 P.M. the officer of the deck on board the unfortunate vessel discovered something about one hundred yards away, moving along the water. It came directly toward the ship, and within two minutes of the time it was first sighted was alongside. The cable was slipped, the engines backed, and all hands called to quarters. But it was too late—the torpedo struck the Housatonic just forward of the mainmast, on the starboard side, in a line with the magazine. The man who steered her knew where the vulnerable spots of the steamer were, and he did his work well. When the explosion took place the ship trembled all over as if by the shock of an earthquake, and seemed to be lifted out of the water, and then sunk foremost, heeling to port as she went down.
"Her captain, Pickering, was stunned and somewhat bruised by the concussion, and the order of the day was 'Sauve qui peut.' A boat was despatched to the Canandaigua, not far off, and that vessel at once responded to the request for help, and succeeded in rescuing the greater part of the crew.
"Strange to say the David was not seen after the explosion, and was supposed to have slipped away in the confusion; but when the Housatonic was inspected by divers, the torpedo-boat was found sticking in the hole she had made, and all her crew were dead in her. It was a reckless adventure these men had engaged in, and one in which they could scarcely have hoped to succeed. They had tried it once before inside the harbor, and some of the crew had been blown overboard. How could they hope to succeed on the outside, where the sea might be rough, when the speed of the David was not over five knots, and when they might be driven out to sea! Reckless as it might be, it was the most sublime patriotism, and showed the length to which men could be urged on behalf of a cause for which they were willing to give up their lives and all they held most dear."