Submarine torpedo-boats are actual, practical working vessels to-day, and already they have to be considered in the naval plans for attack and defense.
Though the importance of submarines in warfare, and especially as a weapon of defense, is beginning to be thoroughly recognised, it took a long time to arouse the interest of naval men and the public generally sufficient to give the inventors the support they needed.
Americans once had within their grasp the means to blow some of their enemies' ships out of the water, but they did not realise it, as will be shown in the following, and for a hundred years the progress in this direction was hindered.
It was during the American Revolution that a man went below the surface of the waters of New York Harbour in a submarine boat just big enough to hold him, and in the darkness and gloom of the under-water world propelled his turtle-like craft toward the British ships anchored in mid-stream. On the outside shell of the craft rested a magazine with a heavy charge of gunpowder which the submarine navigator intended to screw fast to the bottom of a fifty-gun British man-of-war, and which was to be exploded by a time-fuse after he had got well out of harm's way.
Slowly and with infinite labour this first submarine navigator worked his way through the water in the first successful under-water boat, the crank-handle of the propelling screw in front of him, the helm at his side, and the crank-handle of the screw that raised or lowered the craft just above and in front. No other man had made a like voyage; he had little experience to guide him, and he lacked the confidence that a well-tried device assures; he was alone in a tiny vessel with but half an hour's supply of air, a great box of gunpowder over him, and a hostile fleet all around. It was a perilous position and he felt it. With his head in the little conning tower he was able to get a glimpse of the ship he was bent on destroying, as from time to time he raised his little craft to get his bearings. At last he reached his all-unsuspecting quarry and, sinking under the keel, tried to attach the torpedo. There in the darkness of the depths of North River this unnamed hero, in the first practical submarine boat, worked to make the first torpedo fast to the bottom of the enemy's ship, but a little iron plate or bolt holding the rudder in place made all the difference between a failure that few people ever heard of and a great achievement that would have made the inventor of the boat, David Bushnell, famous everywhere, and the navigator a great hero. The little iron plate, however, prevented the screw from taking hold, the tide carried the submarine past, and the chance was lost.
David Bushnell was too far ahead of his time, his invention was not appreciated, and the failure of his first attempt prevented him from getting the support he needed to demonstrate the usefulness of his under-water craft. The piece of iron in the keel of the British warship probably put back development of submarine boats many years, for Bushnell's boat contained many of the principles upon which the successful under-water craft of the present time are built.
One hundred and twenty-five years after the subsurface voyage described above, a steel boat, built like a whale but with a prow coming to a point, manned by a crew of six, travelling at an average rate of eight knots an hour, armed with five Whitehead torpedoes, and designed and built by Americans, passed directly over the spot where the first submarine boat attacked the British fleet.
The Holland boat Fulton had already travelled the length of Long Island Sound, diving at intervals, before reaching New York, and was on her way to the Delaware Capes.
She was the invention of John P. Holland, and the result of twenty-five years of experimenting, nine experimental boats having been built before this persistent and courageous inventor produced a craft that came up to his ideals. The cruise of the Fulton was like a march of triumph, and proved beyond a doubt that the Holland submarines were practical, sea-going craft.
At the eastern end of Long Island the captain and crew, six men in all, one by one entered the Fulton through the round hatch in the conning tower that projected about two feet above the back of the fish-like vessel. Each man had his own particular place aboard and definite duties to perform, so there was no need to move about much, nor was there much room left by the gasoline motor, the electric motor, storage batteries, air-compressor, and air ballast and gasoline tanks, and the Whitehead torpedoes. The captain stood up inside of the conning tower, with his eyes on a level with the little thick glass windows, and in front of him was the wheel connecting with the rudder that steered the craft right and left; almost at his feet was stationed the man who controlled the diving-rudders; farther aft was the engineer, all ready for the word to start his motor; another man controlled the ballast tanks, and another watched the electric motor and batteries.