Some burglars might take one course and some another, according to their individual temperament, but at any rate the warning serves this purpose, that it causes the would-be house-breaker to pause before he commits his crime, even if it does not act as a complete deterrent.
What the notice board is to the burglar, the mine, the torpedo, or the submarine boat is to the naval officer, and in laying his plans he must take into consideration the possibility of being blown up by one or other of these methods of under-water attack. “The King’s Navee” has no lack of brave men ready to risk their lives at a moment’s notice, and a British officer if told to accomplish any task would as soon think of replying that there were mines, torpedo-boats, and submarines in the path of his advance as he would of going into action in a frock coat and a silk hat.
He will undertake his task cheerfully and instantly, and he knows he can rely on the support of his crew, but at the same time it is impossible both for captain and crew to disregard absolutely the unseen dangers that may lie in their way.
Though this will not prevent a British warship from going wherever it is bid, yet the knowledge that they may at any moment be sent to the bottom by the explosion of a submarine mine or by the blow of a Whitehead torpedo, must of necessity make them nervous and will very likely have a bad influence on their powers of shooting straight. “The presence of mines,” says a naval writer, “has a moral effect upon crews which does not altogether improve their shooting.”
So great has been the recent improvement in the matériel of under-water warfare that we have no chance of gauging accurately its potential effect from a moral point of view. The mines, torpedoes, and submarines hitherto employed in naval engagements are excessively crude when compared with their modern equivalents, and the countries which have used them have not been those most skilled in the practice of such weapons. There is, however, sufficient evidence both from naval wars and also from mimic battles to show that the mine, the torpedo and the submarine will exercise a considerable moral influence when the next great fight on the seas takes place.
There have been those who have declared that those who handle such weapons will be far more subject to moral and indeed physical effect than those against whom they are directed, and though this may be true of certain navies it is certainly not true of the British.
It would be possible to quote many instances, both of cases in which submarine defences have prevented the carrying out of certain operations and also of other cases where they have been disregarded. Just as there have been audacious burglaries in spite of “Beware of the dog” notices, so there have been daring attacks in spite of known submarine defences. There is always in warfare the possibility that the mine may fail to act at the critical moment, that the torpedo may not succeed in firing its mark and that the submarine boat may miss its prey.
The first occasion on which the moral influence of modern under-water methods of warfare made itself felt was during the American Civil War.
The story of Admiral Farragut’s entrance into Mobile Bay, on August 5, 1864, is a well-known instance of a commander advancing in spite of known dangers beneath the waves. It has been admirably told in the life of the Admiral by Captain A. T. Mahan. The channel was known to be sown with mines and one of his ships, the Tecumseh, had been sent to the bottom already by one of these unseen weapons. The Admiral reasoned thus: “The chances are that I shall lose some of my vessels by torpedoes or the guns of the enemy, but with some of my fleet afloat I shall eventually be successful. I cannot lose all. I will attack regardless of consequences and never turn back.” As the Hartford passed the Brooklyn a warning cry came from the latter that there were torpedoes ahead.
“Damn the torpedoes!” shouted the Admiral in the exaltation of his high purpose. “Four bells! Captain Drayton, go ahead. Jouett, full speed!” The Hartford and her consort crossed the line about 500 yards from Mobile Point, well to the westward of the buoy and of the spot where the Tecumseh had gone down. As they passed between the buoys the cases of the torpedoes were heard by many on board knocking against the copper of the bottom, and many of the primers snapped audibly, but no torpedo exploded.