"Ha! ha! that's a good thing. The enemy used to be so fond of the word 'rebel' that they would attach it to the most trifling things, when speaking of our people. Judge Hopkinson ridicules that in fine style," remarked old Harmar.
"It ought to be sung to the tune of the 'Hoosier's Ghost,'" said Wilson.
"Who is the Sir Erskine alluded to in the song?" inquired Mrs. Harmar. "Sir William Erskine, one of Sir William Howe's officers," replied old Harmar. "This song created much merriment among the whigs at the time it was written, so that, however much the enemy were right, we had the laugh on our side."
"But what were the circumstances which gave rise to it?" inquired Mr.
Jackson Harmar, impatiently.
"I was about to tell you," replied his father. "A Mr. David Bushnell had invented several ingenious articles of submarine machinery, for the purpose of destroying the British vessels stationed in the Delaware. Among these was the American torpedo, a machine shaped like a water tortoise, and managed by a single person. It contained sufficient air to support respiration thirty minutes without being replenished, valves to admit or reject water for the purpose of rising or sinking, ballast to keep it upright, and a seat for the operator. Above the rudder was a place for carrying a large powder magazine, constructed from two pieces of oak timber, and capable of carrying one hundred and fifty pounds of powder, with the apparatus for firing it. Within the magazine was an apparatus constructed to run any proposed length of time under twelve hours, after which it sprung a strong lock similar to that of a gun, which gave fire to the powder. This apparatus was so secured that it could be set in motion only by the casting off of the magazine from the vessel.
"With this machine a skilful operator could swim so low on the surface of the water, as to approach at night very near to a ship without being discovered. After sinking quickly, he could keep at any necessary depth, and row to a great distance in any direction, without coming to the surface. Bushnell found, however, that much trial and instruction were required for a man of common ingenuity to become a skilful manager. It was first tried by his brother, who, unfortunately, was taken ill at the time when he had become an able operator. Another person was procured, and the first experiment tried upon the Eagle, a sixty-four, which Lord Howe commanded in person. He went under the ship, and attempted to fix the wooden screw into her bottom, but struck, as was supposed, a bar of iron running from the rudder-hinge. Not being well skilled in the management of the machine, he lost the ship in attempting to move to another place; and, after seeking her in vain for some time, rowed a little distance and rose to the surface. Daylight had now advanced so that the attempt could not be renewed, and, fearing he was discovered, he detached the magazine from his vessel and escaped. In an hour the powder exploded, throwing a vast column of water to an amazing height, and leaving the enemy to conjecture whether it was caused by a bomb, a water-spout, or an earthquake. Want of resources obliged Mr. Bushnell to abandon his schemes for that time; but, in 1777, he made an attempt from a whale-boat against the Cerberus frigate, by drawing a machine against her side with a line. It accidentally became attached to a schooner and exploded, tearing the vessel in pieces. Three men were killed, and one dangerously wounded.
"In December, 1777, Mr. Bushnell contrived another ingenious expedient for accomplishing his favorite object. He charged a number of kegs with powder, arranging them so as to explode on coming in contact with anything while floating along the tide. This squadron was launched at night on the Delaware river, above the English shipping; but, unfortunately, the proper distance could not be well ascertained, and they were set adrift too far from the vessels, so that they became obstructed and dispersed by the floating ice. On the following day, however, one of them blew up a boat, and others exploded, occasioning the greatest consternation among the British seamen. The troops were aroused, and, with the sailors, manned the wharves and shipping at Philadelphia, discharging their cannon and small-arms at everything they could see floating in the river during the ebb tide.
"The scene must have been a very ridiculous one, and we cannot wonder at Judge Hopkinson making such comic use of it. The British must have imagined that every keg was the visible part of a torpedo, intended for their destruction."
"We cannot wonder at their consternation, while in constant danger of being blown into the air," said Mr. Jackson Harmar. "Just place yourself in their position; and, knowing that several attempts had been made to blow up the ships, how would you have acted?"
"I should have made quite as much noise, I suppose," replied old Harmar; "but then it was so laughable. I don't think the folks aboard of those ships slept for a week after finding that there was powder in the kegs. That, I believe, was Bushnell's last attempt to destroy the fleet."