Robert Fulton and the Submarine

by William Barclay Parsons

The house in which the Barlows lived in Paris and where Fulton lived with them for much of the time, was No. 59, Rue Vaugirard. The above quotation gives a suggestion of what the Barlows must have been to Fulton during his struggles in a foreign land, with visions of success almost attained alternating with bitter disappointments. It was but natural that the affection of Joel Barlow should be reciprocated and, consequently, when facing in 1806 the then not inconsiderable danger of a transatlantic voyage, it was to Barlow that he entrusted the task of publishing the results of the discoveries and of his labors, should he be lost at sea.

Fulton, as we know, reached America safely and, therefore, Barlow was not called on to publish the “drawings and descriptions” that Fulton had left behind in England. Due to the fact that Fulton lived for some years and became very prominent in the successful development of steam navigation, the drawings and accompanying manuscripts of a device that had not attained practical recognition seemed to have for the moment comparatively small value or importance and were put aside, perhaps after the death of Consul Lyman. They made no appearance until 1870, when they were sold at auction by a Mr. Andrews of Swarland Hall, Felton, Northumberland, and apparently without attracting any comment. Then for a period of 50 years, they rested quietly and unknown to the general public in the family of the purchaser. In 1920, they once more changed owners and passed into the possession of the writer. Now after a lapse of 116 years, the request of Fulton to his dearest friend, Barlow, a request that he realized when he made it might be his last, will be complied with, and the interesting story of his work through several years be made of record.

Could Fulton have foreseen the development that his conception of submarine navigation would attain, it is well within the limit of probability that he would have preferred that publication of his plans be withheld until the basic principle had reached its present status of complete application. Though he lived more than eight years after writing his letter to Barlow, he made no effort to publish his plans, nor did he in any of his subsequent writings refer to his submarine idea nor what he had done in England. Apparently his sole thought of publishing was in the event of his being lost at sea on his return. If he could not carry his conception of submarine attack into actual execution, he apparently preferred that his plans be allowed to rest quietly in some English private library until the idea that he had espoused had taken actual practical form, and the principles that he advocated had been proved true. Absorbed at first on his return to America in the construction of his steamboat, perhaps he realized in the interval between 1806 and his death in 1815, that the world was not yet ready to receive the innovation of sub-surface navigation, that the state of the art of engine construction had not yet been advanced sufficiently to render the theory feasible and, consequently, that publication might have detracted from his fame as an engineer by apparently showing that he was a dreamer. Sometimes it is a misfortune to be ahead of the times. Better to wait until proved facts entitle one to be accorded praise as a man of vision, rather than through premature publication to be classed as a visionary man.

Robert Fulton was born on the 14th November, 1765, on his father’s farm on Conowingo Creek in Little Britain Township, Pennsylvania. His father, Robert Fulton, Sr., was of Scottish descent. To his mother, Mary Smith, a woman of force and intelligence, young Robert owed his early education, and from her he derived the personal qualities that were to make him distinguished. His father was not successful as a farmer, so that when he died in 1768 he left his widow and five children in very straightened circumstances. Of the five children, three were girls, and of the boys, Robert was the elder.

This story is not concerned with the history of the Fulton family which has been thoroughly set forth by others, except to recall those salient steps in Robert’s career that led to his investigation of the possibilities of submarine navigation, and the designing of a boat to accomplish the end so far as the then state of the art of boat and engine construction would permit.

At school he did not excel in his studies which he neglected for sketching and mechanical experiments. When he was seventeen years of age, he set out to make his own career. As the village of Lancaster, where he was living with his mother, offered narrowly limited opportunities, he went to Philadelphia, then in many respects the most important city in the colonies. Not much is known of his early struggles, though apparently he devoted part of his time to art, because the City Directory in 1786, puts him down as a miniature painter, and some of his miniatures are in existence. Under the patronage of Benjamin Franklin, he made progress and earned enough money to purchase a farm for his mother.

But the spirit that was within him—the spirit that was to record his name indelibly in history—led him to think of the greater world that lay beyond the colonies, even though the colonies were at last successful in their struggle for independence and were then engaged in the equally difficult and more prolonged struggle to weld themselves into a nation. In 1786, he sailed for England provided only with a letter from his protector, Franklin, to Benjamin West. At that time West was approaching the height of his career as painter in London, being chosen president of the Royal Academy in 1792. Under the guidance of and probable instruction by West, Fulton made progress as an artist, the Royal Academy accepting some of his pictures.

The path of a young artist is rarely a smooth one. It is no smoother when the young artist is working in a foreign land without fame, friends or private means. What Fulton did and how he lived in London during the first four years of his stay in England, is best told by himself in his own words, in a letter to his mother under date of January 20, 1792, a letter given at full length by Dickenson.

... And I must now Give Some little history of my life since I Came to London. I Brought not more than 40 Guineas to England and was set down in a strange Country without a friend and only one letter of Introduction to Mr. West—here I had an art to learn by which I was to earn my bread but little to support whilst I was doing it And numbers of Eminent Men of the same profession which I must Excell before I Could hope to live—, Many Many a Silant solitary hour have I spent in the most unnerved Studdy Anxiously pondering how to make funds to support me till the fruits of my labours should sifficant to repay them. Thus I went on for near four years—happily beloved by all who knew me or I had long ear now been Crushed by Poverties Cold wind—and Freezing Rain—till last Summer I was Invited by Lord Courtney down to his Country seat to paint a picture of him which gave his Lordship so much pleasure that he has introduced me to all his Friends—And it is but just now that I am beginning to get a little money and pay some debtt which I was obliged to Contract so I hope in about 6 months to be clear with the world or in other words out of debt and then start fair to Make all I Can.

In 1793, when he was on the very threshold of a successful career as an artist, he suddenly, and without any explanation that is known, gave up the art of painting and turned to the science of engineering as his life’s vocation. It is an interesting fact that two great American engineers—Fulton who made steam navigation practical, and Morse who did the same for the electric telegraph—were both artists before they became engineers. The only hint as to the cause of his change of occupation is given by himself in the introduction to his first and greatest literary production, “A Treatise on the Improvement of Canal Navigation,” which appeared in 1796. In this introduction he said: “On perusing a paper descriptive of a canal projected by the Earl of Stanhope in 1793, where many difficulties seem to arise, my thoughts were first awakened to this subject.”