Better yet, for one full hour he was able to maintain the contest with his thirty-two small guns against sixty-four large ones. He was wounded, but he refused to allow his men to carry him below, and while he was thus directing the battle from the quarter-deck, the powder in the Randolph’s magazine was in some way fired, and the ship was literally blown out of the water. Pieces of the wreck, in flames, fell on the Yarmouth, while an American ensign, rolled up ready to be sent aloft, in case the one flying should be shot away, fell, unsinged, upon her forecastle.
It was at 10 o’clock on the morning of March 7, 1778, that this disaster occurred. The Randolph had on board 315 men at the time. The people of the Yarmouth supposed that all hands had perished, and made sail after the rest of the Yankee squadron, though without success. On March 12th the Yarmouth happened back over the very water where the fight had taken place, and there found a piece of the Randolph floating about with four seamen upon it, who were, of course, picked up. Captain Vincent of the Yarmouth reported five men killed and twelve wounded.
The little brig Cabot, of fourteen guns, that made such a brave fight in the first cruise of the first squadron, came to grief on the coast of Nova Scotia. She was in command of Capt. Joseph Olney. The British frigate Milford, with which John Paul Jones had had so much fun, happened along, and as the Cabot was even slower than she, Captain Olney ran her ashore to keep her from the enemy. The crew barely had time to get ashore, but they fired the Cabot before leaving. Once on shore, they were, of course, afoot and friendless in the enemy’s country, but Captain Olney and his men captured a schooner and returned home in her.
This occurred in March, 1777. On April 9th, following, Capt. Dudley Saltonstall, in the Trumbull of twenty-eight guns, captured two British transports off New York harbor that were laden with military stores for the British army, and so more than retrieved the loss of the Cabot. The Trumbull lost seven killed and eight wounded. The only record of the loss on the transports says that “the enemy suffered severely.”
The year 1777 was noted for the building of the first American submarine torpedo boat. David Bushnell, of Saybrook, Connecticut (he moved to Peekskill, New York, later), a most ingenious mechanical engineer, devised a turtle-shaped cask large enough to hold a man and carry a torpedo containing 150 pounds of powder, with mechanism to fasten it to the wooden bottom of a ship and to fire it when so fastened. Because this was the first attempt to use a submarine vessel for the purposes of war, and because Bushnell’s invention, fearsome as it was, is not even yet developed to anything like the degree of which it is capable, the description which he wrote of the thing is well worth giving in full, as follows:
“GENERAL PRINCIPLES AND CONSTRUCTION OF A SUBMARINE VESSEL, COMMUNICATED BY DAVID BUSHNELL, OF CONNECTICUT, THE INVENTOR, A LETTER OF OCTOBER, 1787, TO THOMAS JEFFERSON, THEN MINISTER PLENIPOTENTIARY OF THE UNITED STATES AT PARIS.
“The external shape of the submarine vessel bore some resemblance to two upper tortoise shells of equal size, joined together; the flue of entrance into the vessel being represented by the openings made by the swells of the shells at the head of the animal. The inside was capable of containing the operator, and air sufficient to support him thirty minutes, without receiving fresh air. At the bottom opposite to the entrance was fixed a quantity of lead for ballast; at one edge, which was directly before the operator, who sat upright, was an oar for rowing forward or backward; at the other edge was a rudder for steering. An aperture, at the bottom, with its valve, was designed to admit water for the purpose of descending, and two brass forcing-pumps served to eject the water within, when necessary for ascending. At the top there was likewise an oar, for ascending or descending, or continuing at any particular depth. A water-gauge or barometer determined the depth of descent; a compass directed the course, and a ventilator within supplied the vessel with fresh air, when on the surface. The entrance into the vessel was elliptical, and so small as barely to admit one person. This entrance was surrounded by a broad elliptical iron band, the lower edge of which was let into the wood whereof the body of the vessel was made, in such a manner as to give its utmost support to the body of the vessel against the pressure of the water. Above the upper edge of this iron band there was a brass crown or cover, resembling a hat with its crown and brim, which shut water-tight upon the iron band. The crown was hung to the iron band with hinges, so as to turn over sideways when opened. To make it perfectly secure when shut, it might be screwed down upon the band by the operator, or by a person without.
“There were in the brass crown three round doors, one directly in front and one on each side, large enough to put the hand through. When open they admitted fresh air. Their shutters were ground perfectly tight into their places with emery, and were hung with hinges and secured in their places when shut. There were likewise several glass windows in the crown for looking through and for admitting light in the daytime, with covers to secure them. There were two air-pipes in the crown; a ventilator which drew fresh air through one of the air-pipes, and discharged it into the lower part of the vessel.
“The fresh air introduced by the ventilator expelled the impure air through the other pipe. Both air-pipes were so constructed that they shut themselves, whenever the water rose near their tops, so that no water could enter through them. They opened themselves immediately after they rose above the water. The vessel was chiefly ballasted with lead fixed to its bottom. When this was not sufficient, a quantity was placed within, more or less, according to the weight of the operator. Its ballast rendered it so solid that there was no danger of its oversetting. The vessel, with all its appendages and the operator, was of sufficient weight to settle it low in the water. About two hundred pounds of the lead at the bottom for ballast, could be let down forty or fifty feet below the vessel. This enabled the operator to rise instantly to the surface of the water in case of accident.
“When the operator desired to descend, he placed his foot upon the top of a brass valve, depressing it, by which he opened a large aperture in the bottom of the vessel, through which the water entered at his pleasure. When he had admitted a sufficient quantity, he descended very gradually. If he admitted too large a quantity, in order to obtain an equilibrium, he ejected as much as was necessary by the two brass forcing-pumps which were placed at each end. Whenever the vessel leaked, or he desired to ascend to the surface, he also made use of these forcing-pumps. When the skilful operator had obtained an equilibrium, he could row upward or downward, or continue at any particular depth, with an oar placed near the top of the vessel, formed upon the principle of the screw, the axis of the oar entering the vessel. By turning the oar in one direction he raised the vessel, by turning it the other way he depressed it. A glass tube, eighteen inches long and one inch in diameter, standing upright, its upper end closed, and its lower end, which was open, screwed into a brass pipe, through which the external water had a passage into the glass tube, served as a water-gauge or barometer.