BEGINNINGS OF SUBMARINE INVENTION
In September, 1914 the British Fleet in the North Sea had settled
down to the monotonous task of holding the coasts of Germany and the
channels leading to them in a state of blockade. The work was dismal
enough. The ships tossing from day to day on the always unquiet
waters of the North Sea were crowded with Jackies all of whom prayed
each day that the German would come from hiding and give battle. Not
far from the Hook of Holland engaged in this monotonous work were
three cruisers of about 12,000 tons, each carrying 755 men and
officers. They were the _Cressy_, _Aboukir_, and _Hogue_--not
vessels of the first rank but still important factors in the British
blockade. They were well within the torpedo belt and it may be
believed that unceasing vigilance was observed on every ship.
Nevertheless without warning the other two suddenly saw the
_Aboukir_ overwhelmed by a flash of fire, a pillar of smoke and a
great geyser of water that rose from the sea and fell heavily upon
her deck. Instantly followed a thundering explosion as the magazines
of the doomed ship went off. Within a very few minutes, too little
time to use their guns against the enemy had they been able to see
him, or to lower their boats, the _Aboukir_ sank leaving the crew
floundering in the water.
In the distance lay the German submarine U-9--one of the earliest of
her class in service. From her conning tower Captain Weddigen had
viewed the tragedy. Now seeing the two sister ships speeding to the
rescue he quickly submerged. It may be noted that as a result of
what followed, orders were given by the British Admiralty that in
the event of the destruction of a ship by a submarine others in the
same squadron should not come to the rescue of the victim, but
scatter as widely as possible to avoid a like fate. In this instance
the _Hogue_ and the _Cressy_ hurried to the spot whence the
_Aboukir_ had vanished and began lowering their boats. Hardly had
they begun the work of mercy when a torpedo from the now unseen foe
struck the _Hogue_ and in twenty minutes she too had vanished. While
she was sinking the _Cressy_, with all guns ready for action and her
gunners scanning the sea in every direction for this deadly enemy,
suddenly felt the shock of a torpedo and, her magazines having been
set off, followed her sister ships to the ocean's bed.
In little more than half an hour thirty-six thousand tons of
up-to-date British fighting machinery, and more than 1200 gallant
blue jackets had been sent to the depths of the North Sea by a
little boat of 450 tons carrying a crew of twenty-six men.
The world stood aghast. With the feeling of horror at the swift
death of so many caused by so few, there was mingled a feeling of
amazement at the scientific perfection of the submarine, its power,
and its deadly work. Men said it was the end of dreadnoughts,
battleships, and cruisers, but the history of the war has shown
singularly few of these destroyed by submarines since the first
novelty of the attack wore off. The world at the moment seemed to
think that the submarine was an entirely new idea and invention.
But like almost everything else it was merely the ultimate reduction
to practical use of an idea that had been germinating in the mind of
man from the earliest days of history.
We need not trouble ourselves with the speculations of Alexander the
Great, Aristotle, and Pliny concerning "underwater" activities.
Their active minds gave consideration to the problem, but mainly as
to the employment of divers. Not until the first part of the
sixteenth century do we find any very specific reference to actual
underwater boats. That appears in a book of travels by Olaus Magnus,
Archbishop of Upsala in Sweden. Notwithstanding the gentleman's
reverend quality, one must question somewhat the veracity of the
chapter which he heads:
"Of the Leather Ships Made of Hides Used by the Pyrats of
Greenland."
He professed to have seen two of these "ships," more probably boats,
hanging in a cathedral church in Greenland. With these singular
vessels, according to his veracious reports the people of that
country could navigate under water and attack stranger ships from
beneath. "For the Inhabitants of that Countrey are wont to get small
profits by the spoils of others," he wrote, "by these and the like
treacherous Arts, who by their thieving wit, and by boring a hole
privately in the sides of the ships beneath (as I said) have let in
the water and presently caused them to sink."
Leaving the tale of the Archbishop where we think it must belong in
the realm of fiction, we may note that it was not until the
beginning of the seventeenth century that the first submarine boat
was actually built and navigated. A Hollander, Cornelius Drebel, or
Van Drebel, born in 1572, in the town of Alkmaar, had come to
London during the reign of James I., who became his patron and
friend. Drebel seems to have been a serious student of science and
in many ways far ahead of his times. Moreover, he had the talent of
getting next to royalty. In 1620 he first conceived the idea of
building a submarine. Fairly detailed descriptions of his boats--he
built three from 1620-1624--and of their actual use, have been
handed down to us by men whose accuracy and truthfulness cannot be
doubted. The Honorable Robert Boyle, a scientist of unquestioned
seriousness, tells in his _New Experiments, Physico-Mechanical
touching the Spring of the Air and its Effects_ about Drebel's work
in the quaint language of his time:
But yet on occasion of this opinion of Paracelsus, perhaps it
will not be impertinent if, before I proceed, I acquaint your
Lordship with a conceit of that deservedly famous mechanician and
Chymist, Cornelius Drebel, who, among other strange things that
he perform'd, is affirm'd, by more than a few credible persons,
to have contrived for the late learned King James, a vessel to go
under water; of which, trial was made in the Thames, with admired
success, the vessel carrying twelve rowers, besides passengers;
one which is yet alive, and related it to an excellent
Mathematician that informed me of it. Now that for which I
mention this story is, that having had the curiosity and
opportunity to make particular inquiries among the relations of
Drebel, and especially of an ingenious physician that married his
daughter, concerning the grounds upon which he conceived it
feasible to make men unaccustomed to continue so long under water
without suffocation, or (as the lately mentioned person that went
in the vessel affirms) without inconvenience; I was answered,
that Drebel conceived, that it is not the whole body of the air,
but a certain quintessence (as Chymists speak) or spirituous part
of it, that makes it fit for respiration; which being spent, the
remaining grosser body, or carcase, if I may so call it, of the
air, is unable to cherish the vital flame residing in the heart;
so that, for aught I could gather, besides the mechanical
contrivances of his vessel, he had a chymical liquor, which he
accounted the chief secret of his submarine navigation. For when,
from time to time, he conceived that the finer and purer part of
the air was consumed, or over-clogged by the respiration and
steam of those that went in his ship, he would by unstopping a
vessel full of this liquor, speedily restore to the troubled air
such a proportion of vital parts, as would make it again, for a
good while, fit for respiration whether by dissipating, or
precipitating the grosser exhalations, or by some other
intelligible way, I must not now stay to examine, contenting
myself to add, that having had the opportunity to do some service
to those of his relations that were most intimate with him, and
having made it my business to learn what this strange liquor
might be, they constantly affirmed that Drebel would never
disclose the liquor unto any, nor so much as tell the nature
whereof he had made it, to above one person, who himself assured
me what it was.
This most curious narrative suggests that in some way Drebel, who
died in London in 1634, had discovered the art of compressing oxygen
and conceived the idea of making it serviceable for freshening the
air in a boat, or other place, contaminated by the respiration of a
number of men for a long time. Indeed the reference made to the
substance by which Drebel purified the atmosphere in his submarine
as "a liquor" suggests that he may possibly have hit upon the secret
of liquid air which late in the nineteenth century caused such a
stir in the United States. Of his possession of some such secret
there can be no doubt whatsoever, for Samuel Pepys refers in his
famous diary to a lawsuit, brought in the King's Courts by the heirs
of Drebel, to secure the secret for their own use. What was the
outcome of the suit or the subsequent history of Drebel's invention
history does not record.
Throughout the next 150 years a large number of inventors and
near-inventors occupied themselves with the problem of the
submarine. Some of these men went no further than to draw plans and
to write out descriptions of what appeared to them to be feasible
submarine boats. Others took one step further, by taking out
patents, but only very few of the submarine engineers of this period
had either the means or the courage to test their inventions in the
only practicable way, by building an experimental boat and using it.
In spite of this apparent lack of faith on the part of the men who
worked on the submarine problem, it would not be fair to condemn
them as fakirs. Experimental workers, in those times, had to face
many difficulties which were removed in later times. The study of
science and the examination of the forces of nature were not only
not as popular as they became later, but frequently were looked upon
as blasphemous, savouring of sorcery, or as a sign of an unbalanced
mind.
[Illustration: © Kadel & Herbert.
_A Gas Attack Photographed from an Airplane._]
England and France supplied most of the men who occupied themselves
with the submarine problem between 1610 and 1760. Of the
Englishmen, the following left records of one kind or another
concerning their labours in this direction. Richard Norwood, in
1632, was granted a patent for a contrivance which was apparently
little more than a diving apparatus. In 1648, Bishop Wilkins
published a book, _Mathematical Magick_, which was full of rather
grotesque projects and which contained one chapter on the
possibility "of framing an ark for submarine navigation." In 1691,
patents were granted on engines connected with submarine navigation
to John Holland--curious forerunner of a name destined to be famous
two hundred years later--and on a submarine boat to Sir Stephen
Evance.
In Prance, two priests, Fathers Mersenne and Fournier, published in
1634 a small book called _Questions Théologiques, Physiques, Morales
et Mathématiques_, which contained a detailed description of a
submarine boat. They suggested that the hull of submarines ought to
be of metal and not of wood, and that their shape ought to be as
nearly fishlike as possible. Nearly three hundred years have hardly
altered these opinions. Ancient French records also tell us that six
years later, in 1640, the King of France had granted a patent to
Jean Barrié, permitting him during the next twelve years to fish at
the bottom of the sea with his boat. Unluckily Barrié's fish stories
have expired with his permit. In 1654, a French engineer, De Son, is
said to have built at Rotterdam a submarine boat. Little is known
concerning this vessel except that it was reported to have been
seventy-two feet long, twelve feet high, and eight feet broad, and
to have been propelled by a paddlewheel instead of oars.
Borelli, about whom very little seems to be known, is credited with
having invented in 1680 a submarine boat, whose descent and ascent
were regulated by a series of leather bottles placed in the hull of
the boat with their mouths open to the surrounding water. The
English magazine, _Graphic_, published a picture which is considered
the oldest known illustration of any submarine boat. This picture
matches in all details the description of Borelli's boat, but it is
credited to a man called Symons.
Twenty-seven years later, in 1774, another Englishman, J. Day, built
a small submarine boat, and after fairly extensive experiments,
descended in his boat in Plymouth harbour. This descent is of
special interest because we have a more detailed record of it than
of any previous submarine exploit, and because Day is the first
submarine inventor who lost his life in the attempt to prove the
feasibility of his invention. The _Annual Register_ of 1774 gives a
narration in detail of Day's experiments and death and inasmuch as
this is the first ungarbled report of a submarine descent, it may be
quoted at length.
_Authentic account of a late unfortunate transaction, with
respect to a diving machine at Plymouth._
Mr. Day (the sole projector of the scheme, and, as matters have
turned out, the unhappy sacrifice to his own ingenuity) employed
his thoughts for some years past in planning a method of sinking
a vessel under water, with a man in it, who should live therein
for a certain time, and then by his own means only, bring himself
up to the surface. After much study he conceived that his plan
could be reduced into practice. He communicated his idea in the
part of the country where he lived, and had the most sanguine
hopes of success. He went so far as to try his project in the
Broads near Yarmouth. He fitted a Norwich market-boat for his
purpose, sunk himself thirty feet under water, where he continued
during the space of twenty-four hours, and executed his design to
his own entire satisfaction. Elated with this success, he then
wanted to avail himself of his invention. He conversed with his
friends, convinced them that he had brought his undertaking to a
certainty; but how to reap the advantage of it was the difficulty
that remained. The person in whom he confided suggested to him,
that, if he acquainted the sporting Gentlemen with the discovery,
and the certainty of the performance, considerable betts would
take place, as soon as the project would be mentioned in company.
The Sporting Kalendar was immediately looked into, and the name
of Blake soon occurred; that gentleman was fixed upon as the
person to whom Mr. Day ought to address himself. Accordingly, Mr.
Blake, in the month of November last, received the following
letter:
"SIR,
"I found out an affair by which many thousands may be won; it is
of a paradoxical nature, but can be performed with ease;
therefore, sir, if you chuse to be informed of it, and give me
one hundred pounds of every thousand you shall win by it, I will
very readily wait upon you and inform you of it. I am myself
but a poor mechanic and not able to make anything by it without
your assistance.
"Your's, etc.
"J. DAY."
Mr. Blake had no conception of Mr. Day's design, nor was he sure
that the letter was serious. To clear the matter up, he returned
for answer, that, if Mr. Day would come to town, and explain
himself, Mr. Blake would consider of the proposal. If he approved
of it, Mr. Day should have the recompence he desired; if, on the
other hand, the plan should be rejected, Mr. Blake would make him
a present to defray the expences of his journey. In a short time
after Mr. Day came to town; Mr. Blake saw him and desired to know
what secret he was possessed of. The man replied, "that he could
sink a ship 100 feet deep in the sea with himself in it, and
remain therein for the space of 24 hours, without communication
with anything above; and at the expiration of the time, rise up
again in the vessel." The proposal, in all its parts, was new to
Mr. Blake. He took down the particulars, and, after considering
the matter, desired some kind of proof of the practicability. The
man added that if Mr. Blake would furnish him with the materials
necessary, he would give him an occular demonstration. A model of
the vessel, with which he was to perform the experiment, was then
required, and in three or four weeks accomplished, so as to give
a perfect idea of the principle upon which the scheme was to be
executed, and, in time, a very plausible promise of success, not
to Mr. Blake only, but many other gentlemen who were consulted
upon the occasion. The consequence was, that Mr. Blake, agreeably
to the man's desire, advanced money for the construction of a
vessel fit for that purpose. Mr. Day, thus assisted, went to
Plymouth with his model, and set a man in that place to work upon
it. The pressure of the water at 100 feet deep was a circumstance
of which Mr. Blake was advised, and touching that article he gave
the strongest precautions to Mr. Day, telling him, at any
expence, to fortify the chamber in which he was to subsist,
against the weight of such a body of water. Mr. Day set off in
great spirits for Plymouth, and seemed so confident, that Mr.
Blake made a bett that the project would succeed, reducing,
however, the depth of water from 100 yards to 100 feet, and the
time from 24 to 12 hours. By the terms of the wager, the
experiment was to be made within three months from the date; but
so much time was necessary for due preparation, that on the
appointed day things were not in readiness and Mr. Blake lost the
bett.
[Illustration: Photo by International Film Service.
_A French Nieuport Dropping a Bomb._]
In some short time afterwards the vessel was finished, and Mr.
Day still continued eager for the carrying of his plan into
execution; he was uneasy at the idea of dropping the scheme and
wished for an opportunity to convince Mr. Blake that he could
perform what he had undertaken. He wrote from Plymouth that
everything was in readiness and should be executed the moment Mr.
Blake arrived. Induced by this promise, Mr. Blake set out for
Plymouth; upon his arrival a trial was made in Cat-water, where
Mr. Day lay, during the flow of tide, six hours, and six more
during the tide of ebb; confined all the time in the room
appropriated for his use. A day for the final determination was
fixed; the vessel was towed to the place agreed upon; Mr. Day
provided himself with whatever he thought necessary; he went into
the vessel, let the water into her and with great composure
retired to the room constructed for him, and shut up the valve.
The ship went gradually down in 22 fathoms of water at 2 o'clock
on Tuesday, June 28, in the afternoon, being to return at 2 the
next morning. He had three buoys or messengers, which he could
send to the surface at option, to announce his situation below;
but, none appearing, Mr. Blake, who was near at hand in a barge,
began to entertain some suspicion. He kept a strict lookout, and
at the time appointed, neither the buoys nor the vessel coming
up, he applied to the _Orpheus_ frigate, which lay just off the
barge, for assistance. The captain with the most ready
benevolence supplied them with everything in his power to seek
for the ship. Mr. Blake, in this alarming situation was not
content with the help of the _Orpheus_ only; he made immediate
application to Lord Sandwich (who happened to be at Plymouth) for
further relief. His Lordship with great humanity ordered a number
of hands from the dock-yard, who went with the utmost alacrity
and tried every effort to regain the ship, but unhappily without
effect.
Thus ended this unfortunate affair. Mr. Blake had not experience
enough to judge of all possible contingencies, and he had now
only to lament the credulity with which he listened to a
projector, fond of his own scheme but certainly not possessed of
skill enough to guard against the variety of accidents to which
he was liable. The poor man has unfortunately shortened his days;
he was not however tempted or influenced by anybody; he confided
in his own judgment, and put his life to the hazard upon his own
mistaken notions.
Many and various have been the opinions on this strange, useless,
and fatal experiment, though the more reasonable part of mankind
seemed to give it up as wholly impracticable. It is well-known,
that pent-up air, when overcharged with the vapours emitted out
of animal bodies, becomes unfit for respiration; for which
reason, those confined in the diving-bell, after continuing some
time under water are obliged to come up, and take in fresh air,
or by some such means recruit it. That any man should be able
after having sunk a vessel to so great a depth, to make that
vessel at pressure, so much more specifically lighter than water,
as thereby to enable it to force its way to the surface, through
the depressure of so great a weight, is a matter not hastily to
be credited. Even cork, when sunk to a certain depth will, by the
great weight of the fluid upon it, be prevented from rising.
The English of the _Annual Register_ leaves much to be desired in
clarity. It makes reasonably clear, however, that the unfortunate
Mr. Day's knowledge of submarine conditions was, by no means, equal
to Mr. Blake's sporting spirit. Even to-day one hundred feet is an
unusual depth of submersion for the largest submarines.
The credit for using a submarine boat for the first time in actual
warfare belongs to a Yankee, David Bushnell. He was born in
Saybrook, Connecticut, and graduated from Yale with the class of
1775. While still in college he was interested in science and as far
as his means and opportunities allowed, he devoted a great deal of
his time and energy to experimental work. The problem which
attracted his special attention was how to explode powder under
water, and before very long he succeeded in solving this to his own
satisfaction as well as to that of a number of prominent people
amongst whom were the Governor of Connecticut and his Council.
Bushnell's experiments, of course, fell in the period during which
the Revolutionary War was fought, and when he had completed his
invention, there naturally presented itself to him a further
problem. How could his device be used for the benefit of his country
and against the British ships which were then threatening New York
City? As a means to this end, Bushnell planned and built a submarine
boat which on account of its shape is usually called the _Turtle_.
General Washington thought very highly of Bushnell, whom he called
in a letter to Thomas Jefferson "a man of great mechanical powers,
fertile in inventions and master of execution." In regard to
Bushnell's submarine boat the same letter, written after its
failure, says: "I thought and still think that it was an effort of
genius, but that too many things were necessary to be combined to
expect much against an enemy who are always on guard."
During the whole period of the building of the _Turtle_ Bushnell was
in ill health. Otherwise he would have navigated it on its trial
trip himself for he was a man of undoubted courage and wrapped up
alike in the merits of his invention and in the possibility of
utilizing it to free New York from the constant ignominy of the
presence of British ships in its harbour. But his health made this
out of the question. Accordingly he taught his brother the method of
navigating the craft, but at the moment for action the brother too
fell ill. It became necessary to hire an operator. This was by no
means easy as volunteers to go below the water in a submarine boat
of a type hitherto undreamed of, and to attach an explosive to the
hull of a British man-of-war, the sentries upon which were
presumably especially vigilant, being in a hostile harbour, was an
adventure likely to attract only the most daring and reckless
spirits. In a letter to Thomas Jefferson, other portions of which we
shall have occasion to quote later, Bushnell refers to this
difficulty in finding a suitable operator and tells briefly and with
evident chagrin the story of the failure of the attempts made to
utilize successfully his submarine:
[Illustration: Photo by U. & U.
_A Bomb-Dropping Taube._]
After various attempts to find an operator to my wish, I sent one
who appeared more expert than the rest from New York to a 50-gun
ship lying not far from Governor's Island. He went under the ship
and attempted to fix the wooden screw into her bottom, but
struck, as he supposes, a bar of iron which passes from the
rudder hinge, and is spiked under the ship's quarter. Had he
moved a few inches, which he might have done without rowing, I
have no doubt but he would have found wood where he might have
fixed the screw, or if the ship were sheathed with copper he
might easily have pierced it; but, not being well skilled in the
management of the vessel, in attempting to move to another place
he lost the ship. After seeking her in vain for some time, he
rowed some distance and rose to the surface of the water, but
found daylight had advanced so far that he durst not renew the
attempt. He says that he could easily have fastened the magazine
under the stem of the ship above water, as he rowed up to the
stern and touched it before he descended. Had he fastened it
there the explosion of 150 lbs. of powder (the quantity contained
in the magazine) must have been fatal to the ship. In his return
from the ship to New York he passed near Governor's Island, and
thought he was discovered by the enemy on the island. Being in
haste to avoid the danger he feared, he cast off the magazine, as
he imagined it retarded him in the swell, which was very
considerable. After the magazine had been cast off one hour, the
time the internal apparatus was set to run, it blew up with great
violence.
Afterwards there were two attempts made in Hudson's River, above
the city, but they effected nothing. One of them was by the
aforementioned person. In going towards the ship he lost sight
of her, and went a great distance beyond her. When he at length
found her the tide ran so strong that, as he descended under
water for the ship's bottom, it swept him away. Soon after this
the enemy went up the river and pursued the boat which had the
submarine vessel on board and sunk it with their shot. Though I
afterwards recovered the vessel, I found it impossible at that
time to prosecute the design any farther.
The operator to whom Bushnell had entrusted his submarine boat was a
typical Yankee, Ezra Lee of Lyme, Connecticut. His story of the
adventure differs but little from that of Bushnell, but it is told
with a calm indifference to danger and a seeming lack of any notion
of the extraordinary in what he had done that gives an idea of the
man. "When I rode under the stern of the ship [the _Eagle_] I could
see the men on deck and hear them talk," he wrote. "I then shut down
all the doors, sunk down, and came up under the bottom of the ship."
This means that he hermetically sealed himself inside of a craft,
shaped like two upper turtle shells joined together--hence the name
of the _Turtle_. He had entered through the orifice at the top,
whence the head of the turtle usually protrudes. This before sinking
he had covered and made water-tight by screwing down upon it a brass
crown or top like that to a flask. Within he had enough air to
support him thirty minutes. The vessel stood upright, not flat as a
turtle carries himself. It was maintained in this position by lead
ballast. Within the operator occupied an upright position, half
sitting, half standing. To sink water was admitted, which gathered
in the lower part of the boat, while to rise again this was
expelled by a force pump. There were ventilators and portholes for
the admission of light and air when operating on the surface, but
once the cap was screwed down the operator was in darkness.
In this craft, which suggests more than anything else a curiously
shaped submarine coffin, Lee drifted along by the side of the ship,
navigating with difficulty with his single oar and seeking vainly to
find some spot to which he might affix his magazine. A fact which
might have disquieted a more nervous man was that the clockwork of
this machine was running and had been set to go off in an hour from
the time the voyage was undertaken. As to almost anyone in that
position minutes would seem hours, the calmness of sailor Lee's
nerves seems to be something beyond the ordinary.
When he finally abandoned the attempt on the _Eagle_ he started up
the bay. Off Governor's Island he narrowly escaped capture.
When I was abreast of the Fort on the Island three hundred or
four hundred men got upon the parapet to observe me; at length a
number came down to the shore, shoved off a twelve oar'd barge
with five or six sitters and pulled for me. I eyed them, and when
they had got within fifty or sixty yards of me I let loose the
magazine in hopes that if they should take me they would likewise
pick up the magazine and then we should all be blown up together.
But as kind providence would have it they took fright and
returned to the Island to my infinite joy.... The magazine after
getting a little past the Island went off with a tremendous
explosion, throwing up large bodies of water to an immense
height.
During the last quarter of the eighteenth and during the first half
of the nineteenth century France was the chief centre for the
activities of submarine inventors. However, very few of the many
plans put forward in this period were executed. The few exceptions
resulted in little else than trial boats which usually did not live
up to the expectations of their inventors or their financial backers
and were, therefore, discarded in quick order. In spite of this lack
of actual results this particular period was of considerable
importance to the later development of the submarine. Almost every
one of the many boats then projected or built contained some
innovation and in this way some of the many obstacles were gradually
overcome. Strictly speaking the net result of the experimental work
done during these seventy-five years by a score or more of men, most
of whom were French, though a few were English, was the creation of
a more sane and sound basis on which, before long, other men began
to build with greater success.
The one notable accomplishment of interest, especially to Americans,
was the submarine built in 1800-01 by Robert Fulton. Fulton, of
course, is far better known by his work in connection with the
discovery and development of steam navigation. Born in Pennsylvania
in 1765, he early showed marked mechanical genius. In 1787 he went
to England with the purpose of studying art under the famous painter
West, but soon began to devote most of his time and energy to
mechanical problems. Not finding in England as much encouragement as
he had hoped, he went, in 1797, to Paris and, for the next seven
years, lived there in the house of the American Minister, Joel
Barlow.
As soon as he had settled down in France, he offered his plans of a
submarine boat which he called the _Nautilus_ to the French
Government. Though a special commission reported favourably on this
boat, the opposition of the French Minister of the Marine was too
strong to be overcome, even after another commission had approved a
model built by Fulton. In 1800, however, he was successful in
gaining the moral and financial support of Napoleon Bonaparte, then
First Consul of the French Republic.
Fulton immediately proceeded to build the _Nautilus_ and completed
the boat in May, 1801. It was cigar-shaped, about seven feet in
diameter and over twenty-one feet in length. The hull was of copper
strengthened by iron ribs. The most noticeable features were a
collapsible mast and sail and a small conning tower at the forward
end. The boat was propelled by a wheel affixed to the centre of the
stern and worked by a hand-winch. A rudder was used for steering,
and increased stability was gained by a keel which ran the whole
length of the hull.
[Illustration: © U. & U.
_A Captured German Fokker Exhibited at the Invalides._]
Soon after completion the boat was taken out for a number of trial
trips all of which were carried out with signal success and finally
culminated, on June 26, 1801, in the successful blowing up of an old
ship furnished by the French Government. Although the _Nautilus_
created a great sensation, popular as well as official interest
began soon to flag. Fulton received no further encouragement and
finally gave up his submarine experiments.
[Illustration: © U. & U.
_A British Seaplane with Folding Wings._]
In 1806 he returned to America. By 1814 he had built another
submarine boat which he called the _Mute_. It was, comparatively
speaking, of immense size, being over eighty feet long, twenty-one
feet wide, and fourteen feet deep and accommodating a hundred men.
It was iron-plated on top and derived its peculiar name from the
fact that it was propelled by a noiseless engine. Before its trials
could be completed, Fulton died on February 24, 1815, and no one
seemed to have sufficient interest or faith in his new boat to
continue his work.
In the middle of the nineteenth century for the first time a German
became seriously interested in submarines. His name was Wilhelm
Bauer. He was born in 1822 in a small town in Bavaria and, though a
turner by trade, joined the army in 1842. Bauer was even in his
youth of a highly inventive turn of mind. He possessed an
indomitable will and an unlimited supply of enthusiasm. Step by step
he acquired, in what little time he could spare from his military
duties, the necessary mechanical knowledge, and finally, supported
financially by a few loyal friends and patrons, he built his first
submarine at Kiel at a cost of about $2750. It sank to the bottom on
its first trial trip, fortunately without anyone on board. Undaunted
he continued his efforts.
When he found that his support at Kiel was weakening, he promptly
went to Austria. In spite of glowing promises, opposition on the
part of some officials deprived Bauer of the promised assistance. He
went then to England and succeeded in enlisting the interest of the
Prince Consort. A boat was built according to Bauer's plans, which,
however, he was forced by the interference of politicians to change
to such an extent that it sank on its first trial with considerable
loss of life.
Still full of faith in his ability to produce a successful
submarine, Bauer now went to Russia. In 1855, he built a boat at St.
Petersburg and had it accepted by the Russian Government. It was
called _Le Diable Marin_ and looked very much like a dolphin. Its
length was fifty-two feet, its beam twelve feet five inches, and its
depth eleven feet. Its hull was of iron. A propeller, worked by four
wheels, furnished motive power. Submersion and stability were
regulated by four cylinders into which water could be pumped at
will.
The first trial of the boat was made on May 26, 1856, and was
entirely successful. In later trials as many as fourteen men at a
time descended in _Le Diable Marin_. It is said that Bauer made a
total of 134 trips on his boat. All but two were carried out
successfully. At one time, however, the propeller was caught in some
seaweed and it was only by the quickest action that all the water
was pumped out and the bow of the boat allowed to rise out of the
water, so that the occupants managed to escape by means of the
hatchway. Like Fulton in France, Bauer now experienced in Russia a
sudden decrease of official interest. When he finally lost his boat,
about four weeks later, he also lost his courage, and in 1858 he
returned to Germany where he later died in comparative poverty.
Contemporary with Bauer's submarines and immediately following them
were a large number of other boats. Some of these were little more
than freaks. Others failed in certain respects but added new
features to the sum-total of submarine inventions. As early as 1854,
M. Marié-Davy, Professor of Chemistry at Montpellier University,
suggested an electro-magnetic engine as motive power. In 1855 a
well-known engineer, J. Nasmith, suggested a submerged motor, driven
by a steam engine. None of the boats of this period proved
successful enough, however, to receive more than passing notice, and
very few, indeed, ever reached the trial stage. But before long the
rapid development of internal-combustion engines and the immense
progress made in the study of electricity was to advance the
development of submarines by leaps and bounds.