CHAPTER IX.

THE HISTORY OF SHIPS AND SHIPPING INTERESTS (_continued_).

The Ironclad Question—One of the Topics of the Day—What is to be

their Value in Warfare?—Story of the Dummy Ironclad—Two Real

Ironclads vanquished by it—Experience on board an American

Monitor—Visit of the _Miantonoma_ to St. John’s—Her Tour round the

World—Her Turrets and Interior Arrangements—Firing off the Big

Guns—Inside the Turret—“Prepare!”—Effects of the Firing—A

Boatswain’s-mate’s Opinion—The _Monitor_ goes round the World

safely—Few of the Original American Ironclads left—English

Ironclads—The _Warrior_—Various

Types—Iron-built—Wood-built—Wood-covered—The Greatest Result yet

attained, the _Inflexible_—Circular Ironclads—The “_Garde

Côtes_”—Cost of Ironclads—The Torpedo Question—The Marquis of

Worcester’s Inventions—Bishop Wilkins’ Subaqueous Ark—Fulton’s

Experiments—A Frightened Audience—A Hulk Blown Up—Government Aid

to Fulton—The _Argus_ and her “Crinoline”—Torpedoes successfully

foiled—Their use during the American War—Brave Lieut. Cushing—The

_Albemarle_ Destroyed—Modern Torpedoes: the “Lay;” the

“Whitehead”—Probable Manner of using in an Engagement—The Ram and

its Power.

Early in these chapters, allusion was made to one of the most important of

all vital topics connected with shipping interests—the ironclad

question—and as it concerns the well-being of the Royal Navy, it concerns

that of the nation itself, and no excuse can be needed for its discussion

here. Day by day we hear of new types of armoured vessels, single

specimens costing the price of a small fleet of former days. That, under

certain conditions, they must prove very formidable, there can be no

doubt. But, it must be asked, are the bulk of them seaworthy ships? How

far is torpedo warfare to interfere with their employment? Are they worth

their price to the nation?

Their history so far has been one as much, and indeed far more, of failure

than success. “Our submarine fleet” has become a byword, while none of

their exploits have excelled those of the _Merrimac_ and _Monitor_, two of

the very earliest examples constructed. Indeed, the writer knows no more

successful results attained than by an improvised “dummy” ironclad during

the American war. The ridiculous often merges into or mingles with the

important and the sublime, and the story, little known in England, is

inserted here to show how much may sometimes be done in warfare with

insignificant means.

[Illustration: PEACE AND WAR.]

The incident occurred in February, 1863. An old coal barge(42) adrift had

been picked up in the James River, and the brilliant idea seized some of

Admiral Porter’s men to convert her into a “monitor.” The whole scheme was

carried out in twelve hours. In fact, her construction was hardly more

solid than the “paper forts” built of canvas and boards by the Chinese

during our war with them, and which collapsed after a shot or two as

readily as would the “Rock of Gibraltar” or “Mount Vesuvius” at a firework

display. The barge was built up high with boards, while funnels and

turrets constructed of pork-barrels reared above, and two old canoes did

duty for quarter-boats. A small house, taken from the back yard of a

planter’s dwelling, stood for the pilot-house. Her furnaces were built of

mud or clay; they were only intended to make smoke, not steam. Then a good

coat of black paint or pitch; her furnaces were filled with pitch and

other inflammable materials, and she was ready. As soon as the “dummy”

turned adrift on the Mississippi came in range of the Vicksburg batteries,

the alarmed garrison opened fire upon it. The black monitor glided down

the stream, belching out fire and smoke, but gave not a shot in return.

With amazement the Vicksburg soldiers found that they could not make the

slightest impression on the turreted monster. They did not know that it

was full of water, and had not a man on board! In ominous and silent

disdain she seemed to be making for the Confederate ironclads; one of

them, the _Queen of the West_, leaving part of her crew ashore,

incontinently fled, with all her steam power, making the best of her way

to the Red River. The _Indianola_, a vessel previously captured from the

Northerners, was lying aground, and not to be taken by this ruthless

monster of a monitor, was ordered to be blown up, which was accordingly

done. Thus was this bloodless victory gained by the dummy ironclad. It is

not impossible that we may hear of similar tricks in future warfare, as

all is fair therein.

The following experiences on board an American monitor are kindly sent to

the writer by a friend, formerly in the Royal Navy.

“Great, indeed, was the excitement caused by the deeds of the _Monitor_

and _Merrimac_ amongst the officers and men of Her Majesty’s North

Atlantic Squadron. Whether dancing in Halifax, chasing French fishermen on

the Newfoundland coast, or ‘sunning’(43) in St. George, there was always

to be found some one, from captain to loblolly boy, with a new story of

the prowess of these formidable monsters of the _shallows_! I write

‘shallows’ advisedly, for if the experience which I am about to narrate

proves anything, it will be that as a ‘deep water’ or sea-going craft the

_Monitor_ is practically useless.

“Notwithstanding a certain eagerness to behold a specimen of their

floating batteries, curiosity was not destined to be gratified until

nearly two years after the close of the American War, when the United

States Government determined on sending a representative—the

_Miantonoma_—to make a tour of the world. The object of this resolution

was to prove that the American invention was not a mere floating battery,

but was destined to revolutionise the system of armour-plated ships. The

_Miantonoma_ was accompanied when she made her appearance in the harbour

of St. John’s, Newfoundland, by two tenders, one a second-class corvette,

the other a captured blockade-runner, which had been mounted with a single

‘Parrot’ pivot gun, throwing a spherical shot of 180 lbs. This projectile

was dubbed ‘the Devil’ by those on board, who were by no means anxious to

hear its voice, for the lightly-built blockade-runner trembled in every

knee at each discharge. Nevertheless, such a vessel properly built is

destined to play an important part in the navy of the future, when our

present unwieldy ironclads shall have been relegated to that bourne where

torpedoes cannot terrify.

[Illustration: THE “MIANTONOMA.”]

“The _Miantonoma_ was a twin-turreted monitor, carrying two of Parrot’s

480 pounder smooth-bore. Her spar-deck, which was flush fore and aft, was

about two and a half to three feet above the surface of the water in

harbour. What we would call the gun-deck was below the water-line some

eight feet, and here at sea during any sort of rough weather, the men were

compelled to live. Air was supplied (faugh! what an atmosphere it was,

even in harbour!) by means of pipes which ran up to a scaffolding—I can

find no better name for the structure—elevated above the spar-deck fifteen

feet. Here were the wheel-house and a place for the look-out. But as it

was apprehended that the first respectable gale would take charge of the

flimsy structure and sweep it all away, a ‘preventer’ steering apparatus

worked below, and knowledge was gained of what was going on in the upper

world by means of reflectors. Two things struck the eye of an observant

stranger on gaining the side. The first was the formidable appearance of

the turrets—the latter, _mirabile dictu_, the number of spittoons! At once

it became evident that such a craft as that which, if you please, we are

now aboard of, could never be taken by boarding. Given the flush deck

filled with an armed host; one of these terrible turrets would slowly turn

round, the shield protecting the embrasure would fly back, a gaping

volcano would belch forth, a whirlwind of flame and smoke only—no need,

indeed, would there be for iron orbs at such quarters—and, ere its shield

had once more covered grinning death, the armed host would have been swept

away.

[Illustration: INTERIOR OF A TURRET SHIP.]

“It is Her Majesty’s birthday, and the _Miantonoma_ steams away with those

who have been invited on board to witness the firing of the big guns. The

salute cannot be fired in the little harbour, else surely every pane of

glass from the block-house to Riverhead will pay the penalty. So

Freshwater Bay is to have the honour of hearing man’s thunder

reverberating along its hill-girded shores.

“Bang, bang—pop, pop, bang. You hear the Armstrongs and old field-pieces

go off from Her Majesty’s men-of-war in harbour, and Her Majesty’s Fort

William and water batteries. Then you descend to utter silence. You ascend

again through a trapdoor, and find yourself in a circular room, some

twelve feet in diameter, padded from top to bottom like the interior of a

carriage. By your side is a huge mass of iron. You are inside the turret.

A glimmering lamp sheds its feeble light on the moving forms around you,

and from below comes the faint whispering of the men, until the trap is

shut and you are again in utter silence.

“‘_Prepare!_’ The gunner’s mates stand you on your toes, and tell you to

lean forward and thrust your tongue out of your mouth. You hear the

creaking of machinery. It is a moment of intense suspense. Gradually a

glimmer of light—an inch—a flood. The shield passes from the opening—the

gun runs out. A flash, a roar—a mad reeling of the senses, and crimson

clouds flitting before your eyes—a horrible pain in your ears, a sense of

oppression on your chest, and the knowledge that you are not on your

feet—a whispering of voices blending with the concert in your ears—a

darkness before your eyes—and you find yourself plump up in a heap against

the padding, whither you have been thrown by the violence of the

concussion. Before you have recovered sufficiently to note the effects I

have endeavoured to describe, the shield is again in its place and the gun

ready for re-loading. They tell you that the best part of the sound has

escaped through the port-hole, otherwise there would be no standing it,

and our gunner’s mate whispers in your ear: ‘It’s all werry well, but they

busts out bleeding from the chest and ears after the fourth discharge, and

has to be taken below.’ You have had enough of it too, and are glad that

they don’t ask you to witness another shot fired.

“Since the _Miantonoma’s_ time vast improvements have been made in the

matter of turret firing. The guns are now discharged by means of an

electric spark, which obviates the necessity for having anyone in the

turret, and is certainly a great blessing.

“‘And what do you think of her?’ I asked a boatswain’s-mate. ‘Think of

her, sir!’ he replied. ‘I think, sir, that she’s a floating coffin, and I

would as soon live in ——. Every time we’re out of harbour she goes under

water, and don’t come up till we get in again, as the saying is. We are

just cooped up here waiting for a big wave to come and swallow us, for she

don’t rise to the waves, she goes through ’em.’ Then, becoming more

confidential, ‘Tower of the world be hanged, sir! None of us believe we’ll

ever see Queenstown, and if we only had a chance to get ashore, there

ain’t a man but what would desert, I guess.’

“I must draw the reader’s attention to the fact that I give this sailor’s

statement for what it is worth. The officers, one and all, as far as my

memory serves me, stated that she was a very good sea boat; better,

indeed, than they expected, though somewhat sluggish in the water. I may

add that the _Miantonoma_ not only reached Queenstown, but _did_ succeed

in making a tour of the world. Yet it was alleged that her crew, with the

exception of some twenty men, were put into the tenders, and that she was

towed across the ‘herring pond’ and round the Horn by them. From these

facts and rumours the reader may form his own opinion as to the

seaworthiness of the American monitor. My belief is, that for a sea-fight,

especially should one occur in a gale of wind, they are practically as

useless as a hay-barge, while for harbour defences they have proved

themselves invaluable. Of all the splendid fleet of monitors possessed by

America at the close of the Federal and Confederate war, there are scarce

any left to keep up the reputation of the United States as a naval power.

They were contract built, of green oak. The Philadelphia and San Francisco

navy yards afford ample proof that a decade has sufficed to destroy what

shot and shell found almost invulnerable. Such splendid specimens of naval

architecture as the _Brooklyn_ and _Ohio_ alone are left to keep up the

appearance of America’s naval strength on foreign stations. But let us

hope that her ‘shoddy’ monitors, like her shoddy blankets or wooden

nutmegs, have passed away with her convalescence from intestine wounds,

and that the next decade may witness the Stars and Stripes floating

powerfully and peacefully side by side with the Union Jack, omnipotent for

good.”

Any such expression of feeling in regard to the safety of English

ironclads, in spite of the terrible loss of the _Captain_, and that of the

_Vanguard_ (only less serious inasmuch as no lives were sacrificed), would

not be echoed by any British sailor on board them. The accommodations,

barring the general darkness and sense of gloom inside, only partially

illumined by the fitful light of lamps, are generally good, and it is by

no means certain that when the electric light has attained that perfection

at which its promoters are aiming, there can be any complaint on that

score at all. Still, until some grand success has been attained by

ironclads, it is very questionable whether they can be thoroughly popular,

except to courageous, scientific, and ambitious officers, of whom the

service, the writer is certain, does not stand in need. We have had a “Man

of iron” ashore, and we shall have him afloat when the occasion requires.

The first types of ironclads introduced into the Royal Navy, as for

example, the _Warrior_ and _Black Prince_, were nearly identical in

general appearance to the war-ships of the day. Now _all_ British

ironclads are built with sides approaching the upright or vertical above

water. At first they only attempted broadside fire; now bow and stern guns

are common. The _Warrior_, as the earliest example of an ironclad in the

Royal Navy, deserves special mention. She is doing duty to-day, and is by

no means an effete example, but an excellent and useful vessel. She is

armoured at the middle only, in the most exposed parts. In other words,

her engines and leading guns are protected, while the rest of her hull,

though strong, is not armour-covered. _Now_, whatever weight of armour

this central, or “box-battery,” as it has been termed, may have, there is

always a continuous belt of iron extending from stem to stern, and

protecting the region of the water-line and steering gear, the counter of

the ship being carried below the water in order to screen the rudder-head.

This improvement is due to Sir Spencer Robinson. The _Warrior’s_ armour

was uniform in thickness; now it is strongest in the vital parts. The

_Warrior_ had only a main-deck battery armour plated; recent ships have

had a protected upper-deck battery given them. The _Warrior_ carried a

large number of guns in an outspread battery; all later ships, of whatever

type, have had a _concentrated_ battery of much heavier guns. This early

armoured ship is long; nearly all later examples are much shorter in

proportion to their breadth.

And now to the armour itself, which is sometimes affixed to an iron and

sometimes to a wooden hull, and in a few cases has wood _outside_ it.

These facts, by no means generally known, must be studied, for it can

hardly yet be said to be determined which is the better form. It may be

said, in general terms, that the “adoption of armour-plating was

accompanied in this country by the introduction of iron for the

construction of the hulls of ships of war, and our ironclad fleet is for

the most part _iron-built_. We have, it is true, a number of wood-built

ironclads, but most of these are converted vessels.”(44) Several were

built of wood (and then armoured) for the purpose of utilising the large

stocks of timber accumulated in the dockyards. In the future it is

probable that nearly all will be of iron, with wood backing. The armour of

the _Warrior_ is only 4½ inches thick, with, however, a “backing” of 18

inches of timber. This type includes the _Black Prince_, _Achilles_,

_Defence_, _Hector_, _Valiant_, and _Prince Albert_. Then we come to

another series, of which the _Bellerophon_, _Penelope_, _Invincible_,

_Audacious_, _Swiftsure_, _Triumph_, _Iron Duke_, and unfortunate

_Vanguard_ furnish examples. They average 6 inches of iron-plating to 10

inches of wood backing. The lost _Captain_ was somewhat heavier in both

plating and backing. Then again we advance to a still heavier type—12

inches of iron to 18 inches of wood: the _Glatton_, _Thunderer_, and

_Devastation_ furnish examples. Then there is the _wood-built_ class, the

thickness of their (wooden) sides ranging from 19½ to as high as 36

inches, with 4½ to 6 inches of armour. The _Royal Sovereign_ (a turret

ship) is a leading example of this class; she has 5½ inches of armour,

covering 36 inches of wood.

To speak of all the types of armour-clad ships would most undoubtedly

weary the reader. Let us examine a leading example. The _Inflexible_

(double turret ship) is probably the greatest result yet attained. She is

an ironclad of 11,400 tons, with 8,000 horse-power, her estimated first

cost being considerably over half a million sterling. She is 320 feet

long, and has armour of 16 to 24 inches thick, with a backing of 17 to 25

inches of wood. She has no less than 135 compartments, while her engines

are so completely isolated that if one breaks down the other would be

working. “But already, as if to show the impossibility of attaining the

stage of finality as regards the construction of our men-of-war, there is

every reason to believe that she has been excelled.... Designed,” says our

leading journal,(45) “as an improvement upon the Russian _Peter the

Great_, she will herself be surpassed by the two Italian frigates which

are building at La Spezzia and Castellamare.... While the _Inflexible’s_

turrets are formed of a single thickness of 18-inch armour, and her

armament consists of four 81-ton guns, the turrets of the _Dandolo_ and

the _Duilio_ are built of plates 22 inches thick, and are armed with four

100-ton guns.” The writer then enlarges on recent gunnery experiments,

showing that even the enormous thickness of the _Inflexible’s_ iron sides

have been pierced, and concludes by saying that, “so far as the exigencies

of the navy are concerned, the limit of weight seems to have already been

reached, for the simple reason that the buoyancy of our ironclads cannot

with safety be further diminished by the burden of heavier armour and

armaments.” The leading feature in this vessel is the situation of the

turrets. In most turret ships afloat these batteries are placed on the

middle line, and in consequence only one-half the guns can be brought to

bear on an enemy either right ahead or directly astern. In the

_Inflexible_ the turrets rise up on either side of the ship _en échelon_

within the citadel walls, the fore turret being on the port side and the

after turret on the starboard side. By these means the whole of the four

guns can be discharged _simultaneously_ at a ship right ahead or right

astern, or, in pairs, towards any point. What vessel could withstand such

a fire rightly directed?

[Illustration: THE “INFLEXIBLE.”]

As we have seen, the forms and proportions of ironclads have undergone

enormous changes from the days when the success of the plated floating

batteries at Kinburn called the special attention of Europe to the

possibility of successfully protecting vessels in the same way. The shot

of the enemy had no effect on these batteries. A special correspondent of

the _Times_ said: “The balls hopped back off their sides without leaving

an impression, save such as a pistol-ball makes on the target of a

shooting gallery. The shot could be heard distinctly striking the sides of

the battery with a ‘sharp smack,’ and then could be seen flying back,

splashing the water at various angles according to the direction in which

they came, till they dropped exhausted.”

One of the greatest novelties is the _circular_ ironclad, proposed long

ago by Mr. John Elder, in a paper read before the United Service

Institution, and carried out by Admiral Popoff, of the Russian navy, who

designed one which was afterwards constructed and was christened the

_Novgorod_. She was 100 feet in diameter, with curved deck, the highest

point of which was only five or six feet above the water. She carried two

28-ton guns. Its model might be described as a floating saucer with a

comparatively flat covering. It is even asserted that a good speed is

attainable with such vessels, and that they are steerable, if hydraulic

machinery is employed. Mr. Elder’s plan was as follows:—When a revolving

pilot-house on the vessel turned, a jet of water was ejected in a backward

line to the very course proposed to steer. The pilot or steersman—having a

complete control of the movements of the pilot-house, and a clear look out

a-head—only arranged to steer in a particular direction, and the water jet

propelled the vessel to its destination. Such vessels are fit for nothing

better than river or harbour protection.

The _Alexandra_, whose batteries we show on the opposite page, is one of

the most efficient of our English armour-plated ships. She was built at

Chatham, and launched in 1875. She was specially built for speed, and

carries the maximum weight of armour consistent with sea-going qualities.

She is armed with three guns of twenty-five tons each and nine of eighteen

tons.

[Illustration: SECTION OF THE “ALEXANDRA.”]

A new form of ironclad, destined for coast duty, has also been introduced

in Holland and France. These Governments consider that for the defence of

a coast-line, fixed land batteries are not sufficient. They have,

therefore, adopted a ponderous form of turreted ironclad, which the French

term _garde-côtes_. They are not supposed to be adapted for long sea

voyages, as they are veritable floating iron castles, carrying not merely

heavy guns, but whole batteries of smaller guns. They have good engine

power, and can, therefore, be moved to any part of the coast with ease.

The cost of ironclads to this country has been very serious. Mr. Reed puts

it down at a million sterling a year since their inauguration.(46) For the

eighteen years preceding 1876, they cost £16,738,935, and with the cost of

wear and tear, repair, and maintenance, not less than £18,000,000.

£300,000 was required for repairs and maintenance alone in one year,

perhaps an exceptional case. The _Warrior_, built in the year 1860, cost,

to 1876, for maintenance and repair, no less than £124,245, or about a

third of her original cost. She is the earliest type of ironclad, and of

small tonnage compared with several of her successors. What _they_ may

cost to maintain is a still more serious problem. Single ironclads have

cost the country half a million sterling; the _Inflexible_, £600,000.

[Illustration: PREPARING FOR TORPEDO EXPERIMENTS AT PORTSMOUTH.]

Connected intimately with the ironclad question is the torpedo movement.

From an early date schemes have been devised for injuring an enemy’s

vessel by submarine apparatus and otherwise than by guns. In the

seventeenth century, we find the celebrated Marquis of Worcester

describing such apparatus. The ninth of his “Century of Inventions”

describes a small engine, portable in one’s pocket, which might be carried

and fastened on the inside of the ship, and at any appointed time, days or

weeks after, at the will of the operator, it should explode and sink that

vessel.

In his tenth invention, the Marquis of Worcester describes “a way from a

mile off to dive and fasten a like engine to any ship, so as it may

punctually work the same effect, either for time or execution.” The

details of construction and working are left to the reader’s imagination.

Bishop Wilkins, in a curious work on “Mathematical Magick,” published in

1648, describes a possible submarine vessel, or “ark,” as he terms it. He

says that it “may be effected beyond all question, because one Cornelius

Dreble hath already experimented on it here in England.” Of Dreble very

little is known; but it is on record that he constructed a subaqueous

boat, which he exhibited before James I., which carried twelve rowers and

some passengers, and further, that that monarch was so pleased with it

that he sent a duplicate as a present to the grand Duke of Muscovy

(Russia). The bishop discusses the matter very fully. The boat is, of

course, to be watertight, all openings being sealed for the nonce by

leather bags, with two sets of fastenings. The oars were to project also

through leather bags, giving freedom of motion and yet excluding the

water. A serious difficulty—the lack of fresh air on board—is partially

slurred over; but he considers that the sailors, “by long use and

custome,” will practically get used to it. The raising or lowering of the

vessel is to be accomplished by the lifting or depression of an enormous

stone hung to its keel. He considered that the steering would be easier

than on the surface, there being no contrary winds or atmospheric

disturbances to interfere. The vessel is to be well manned by artisans,

and children are to be born in the “ark:” one of the points specially

mentioned being their inevitable astonishment when they for the first time

behold the light of day at the surface, and are landed on _terra firma_!

The log is not merely to be written but is to be printed on board. “Among

the many conveniences of such a contrivance, it may be of very great

advantage against a navy of enemies, who, by this means, may be undermined

in the water and blown up.”

Another old writer, Schott, in a rare and curious work, entitled

“Mirabilia Mechanica,” offers several schemes for submarine vessels, and

gives a drawing of one with a paddle-wheel as the propelling power. The

wheel, worked by men, was to work in a watertight box in the centre of the

vessel, the paddles projecting below the keel. A Frenchman built a vessel

of this description at Rotterdam in 1653, and publicly exhibited it.

Pepys, in his “Diary,” writes, on the 14th of March, 1662: “This afternoon

came the German Dr. Knuffler, to discourse with us about his engine to

blow up ships. We doubted not the matter of fact—it being tried in

Cromwell’s time—but the safety of carrying them in ships; but he do tell

us that when he comes to tell the King his secret (for none but kings

successively, and their heirs, must know it) it will appear of no danger

at all.” We have before described Fulton’s submarine boat, the _Nautilus_,

and his torpedo experiments in France and England; let us now follow him

to the New World.

Fulton arrived in America in December, 1806, and so far from being

discouraged by the apathy displayed towards his inventions in Europe,

inaugurated fresh experiments, under Government sanction, a certain

expenditure being authorised. An amusing account of one of his semi-public

exhibitions is given by his biographer:(47)—“In the meantime, anxious to

prepossess his countrymen with a good opinion of his project, he invited

the magistracy of New York and a number of citizens to Governor’s Island,

where were the torpedoes and the machinery with which his experiments were

to be made; these, with the manner in which they were to be used and were

expected to operate, he explained very fully. While he was lecturing on

his blank torpedoes, which were large empty copper cylinders, his numerous

auditors crowded round him. At length he turned to a copper case of the

same description, which was placed under the gateway of the fort, and to

which was attached a clockwork lock. This, by drawing out a peg, he set in

motion, and then said to his attentive audience, ‘Gentlemen, this is a

charged torpedo, with which, precisely in its present state, I mean to

blow up a vessel; it contains one hundred and seventy pounds of gunpowder,

and if I were to suffer the clockwork to run fifteen minutes, I have no

doubt but that it would blow this fortification to atoms!’ The circle

round Mr. Fulton was very soon much enlarged, and before five of the

fifteen minutes were out there were but two or three persons remaining

under the gateway; some, indeed, lost no time in getting at the greatest

possible distance from the torpedo with their best speed, and did not

again appear on the ground till they were assured it was lodged in the

magazine.” Fulton, of course, displayed the utmost coolness, knowing that

his torpedo could not explode till the clockwork had run its allotted

time, and of course taking care that it should be stopped long before the

expiration of the fifteen minutes.

On the 20th of July, 1807, he attempted to blow up with torpedoes, in the

harbour of New York, a large hulk brig which had been provided for the

purpose. Several unsuccessful attempts were made at first, owing to some

derangements connected with the locks of the exploding apparatus. At

length, however, the explosion took place, and was a thorough success. He

has left a full account of it in his own work.(48) Nothing was left of the

brig; all that was seen in her place was a high column of water, smoke,

and fragments. It showed, as Fulton always believed, that the torpedo

should, if possible, be exploded _under_ the vessel to be blown up. In his

cool but yet enthusiastic way he says: “Should a ship of the line

containing five hundred men contend with ten good row-boats, each with a

torpedo and ten men, she would risk total annihilation, while the boats,

under the cover of the night and quick movements, would risk only a few

men out of one hundred.”

Fulton, after this, lectured frequently before the members of Congress,

and so favourably impressed them that a sum of 5,000 dollars was voted in

aid of his experiments. One of the plans he proposed was to couple by a

line two torpedoes, then letting them drift on the bow of the vessel to be

destroyed, the line would catch on the cable or bows, and the torpedoes

would drift towards the vessel on either side. He also proposed “block

ships” of 50 or 100 tons, with cannon-proof sides and musket-proof decks

(_i.e._, virtually ironclads), to be propelled by machinery, _which was to

be worked by the crew_. “On each quarter and bow she was to be armed with

a torpedo fastened to a long spar, the interior end of which was to be

supported and braced by ropes from the yards.... By means of these spars

the torpedoes were to be thrust under the bottom of the vessel to be

destroyed.” Half the many plans proposed for torpedo warfare may be traced

back to Robert Fulton at the end of the last and beginning of the present

century. Among his inventions was a “cable-cutting machine,” a description

of which would occupy an undue amount of space in a popular work. Suffice

it to say that by its means he succeeded in cutting, several feet below

the surface of the water, the cable—a 14-inch one—of a vessel lying at

anchor.

One of the most important experiments made at this time was his attempt,

under sanction of Government, to blow up the sloop-of-war _Argus_, and the

case demonstrates very clearly the ingenuity of the _defence_, and the

means taken to foil the assailing torpedo. We have heard quite recently of

propositions to defend a vessel by means of a kind of “crinoline,” as it

has been termed, a strong network, &c., surrounding the whole or a part of

the vessel at some distance from it, which should prevent the torpedo from

exploding near the hull. Such was actually the means devised by Commodore

Rodgers, of the United States Navy, in the year 1809, and which proved

entirely successful in foiling Fulton’s torpedo. Colden says:—“She had a

strong netting suspended from her spritsail-yard, which was anchored at

the bottom; she was surrounded by spars lashed together, which floated on

the surface of the water, so as to place her completely in a pen; she had

grappling-irons and heavy pieces of the same metal suspended from her

yards and rigging, ready to be plunged in any boat that came beneath them;

she had great swords, or scythes, fastened to the ends of long spars,

moving like sweeps, which unquestionably would have mowed off as many

heads as came within their reach.”

[Illustration: THE OLD STYLE AND THE NEW (A THREE-DECKER AND A TORPEDO

BOAT).]

By these devices the torpedo-boat was unable to get near the _Argus_,

while the netting, anchored to the bottom of the harbour, prevented any

probability of the torpedo being fired under the vessel. The Government

had practically said to Fulton, “Do your best, and we’ll do our best to

defeat you.” The experiment was not one-sided, as are so many. Fulton, far

from complaining, thus wrote: “I will do justice to the talents of

Commodore Rodgers. The nets, booms, kentledge, and grapnels which he

arranged around the _Argus_ made a formidable appearance against one

torpedo-boat and eight bad oarsmen. I was taken unawares. I had explained

to the officers of the navy my means of attack; they did not inform me of

their means of defence. The nets were put down to the ground, otherwise I

should have sent the torpedoes under them. In this situation, the means

with which I was provided being imperfect, insignificant, and inadequate

to the effect to be produced, I might be compared to what the inventor of

gunpowder would have appeared had he lived in the time of Julius Cæsar,

and presented himself before the gates of Rome with a four-pounder, and

had endeavoured to convince the Roman people that by means of such

machines he could batter down their walls. They would have told him that a

few catapultas casting arrows and stones upon his men would cause them to

retreat; that a shower of rain would destroy his ill-guarded powder; and

the Roman centurions, who would have been unable to conceive the various

modes in which gunpowder has since been used to destroy the then art of

war, would very naturally conclude that it was a useless invention; while

the manufacturers of catapultas, bows, arrows, and shields would be the

most vehement against further experiments.”

[Illustration: LIEUT. CUSHING’S ATTACK ON THE “ALBEMARLE.”]

Torpedoes were used extensively during the civil war in America, but

almost entirely for rivers or harbour defence. One of the most prominent

examples was the following:—The ironclad ram _Albemarle_(49) had been

carrying all before it, till Lieutenant Cushing, a brave young officer,

scarcely twenty-one years of age, took a steam-launch, equipped as a

torpedo-boat, on the night of October, 1864, up the Roanoake River. He had

with him thirteen men. The launch was steered directly for the ironclad,

which lay at one of the wharfs of Plymouth, protected by a raft of logs

extending thirty feet. The enemy’s fire was at once very severe, but the

torpedo-boat went bravely on, and succeeded in pressing in the logs a few

feet. Cushing, in his despatch, says—“The torpedo was exploded at the same

time that the _Albemarle’s_ gun was fired. A shot seemed to go crashing

through my boat, and a dense mass of water rushed in from the torpedo,

filling and completely disabling her. The enemy then continued to fire at

fifteen feet range, and demanded our surrender, which I twice refused.”

Cushing leaped into the water and, with one of his party, made good his

escape. The rest of the little crew were either captured, killed, or

wounded. The object of the attack was, however, successful, and the

_Albemarle_ was found to be a complete wreck. Torpedoes were also employed

with great effect by the Paraguayans in their war against the Brazilians

in 1866.

[Illustration: PARAGUAYAN TORPEDO BLOWING UP A BRAZILIAN IRONCLAD.]

Great are the varieties of torpedoes invented at various times in late

years, and a technical description of them, which would be wearying to the

reader, would fill a large volume. An ingenious kind, known as the “Lay”

torpedo, after the name of its inventor, comes from the New World. It is

of cylindrical form, with conical ends, the forward cone calculated to

hold a hundred pounds of some explosive substance—dynamite,(50) probably,

being used. A forward section of the main cylinder holds a powerful gas,

condensed into _liquid_ form, and used as the motive power, and connected

with the machinery by a valve operated by electricity. The torpedo has a

cable coiled as harpoon-ropes are arranged in whaling-vessels, which may

be of any length, the wires connected with the battery following its

course. This instrument of destruction is entirely under the control of

the operator, who may be stationed with his small portable battery on the

shore or on a vessel. It is said that they have been sent out half a mile

and brought back to the starting-point at a rate of twelve miles an hour,

and that the rapidity and precision with which the machine obeyed the

operator demonstrated them to be among the most formidable weapons ever

invented for naval warfare.

[Illustration: _Porter Torpedo Boat. Fulton’s Torpedo Boat._

_ Spar Torpedo. (Front and Side Views.) Lay Torpedo._

DIFFERENT FORMS OF TORPEDOES.]

These subaqueous weapons have never been used in an engagement between

fleets. In an interesting essay(51) on the subject by Commander Noel,

R.N., he recommends or proposes that four torpedo vessels should accompany

a fleet, and describes their probable operations as follows:—

[Illustration: TORPEDO EXPERIMENTS AT PORTSMOUTH, WITH THE ELECTRIC

LIGHT.]

“Let us imagine ourselves, then, on board a rakish little craft, fitted

for Harvey torpedo work; we can steam sixteen knots; we tow a torpedo on

each quarter; and we are so admirably fitted with steel-protecting

mantelets that neither officer nor man is exposed either to view or to

rifle fire. Our instructions are that on the approach of a hostile force

we and our three consorts are to hold ourselves in readiness to charge the

enemy’s line, passing through at full speed, and doing all the damage that

lies in our power: these orders to be carried into effect in obedience to

a preconcerted signal. The enemy is observed approaching, and apparently

moving at about ten knots’ speed. The torpedo vessels are let loose, and,

choosing the centre of the enemy’s fleet, rush on, steering for a

flag-ship leading a column in line ahead. Heavy guns are fired at us as we

near, but we are so small and rapid in our movements that no shot takes

effect; we are reducing our distance at the rate of a mile in two and a

half minutes; soon comes the time of suspense; in a second or two we are

passing the flag-ship; the port torpedo is dipped—will it strike her?

Suddenly a tug on the wire towing-rope, and it parts. Her bow has been

protected, and our torpedo is torn away harmless. However, another mine

tows on the opposite quarter, still in working order; we are in the midst

of the enemy’s fleet, rushing past one after another at half-minute

intervals; our only chance of using our other torpedo is in breaking

through the line; our commander is eminent for his skill, courage, and

confidence. Little choice is given us, but he observes a rather great

interval astern of the fourth ship. ‘Starboard’ is the order, and we break

through under her stern; our starboard torpedo is at the same time dipped,

and passes under the fifth ship. Owing to a combination of luck and good

management, the torpedo takes effect and the enemy is blown up. The other

torpedo vessels have thrown the enemy into considerable disorder, but none

have succeeded in using their torpedoes with effect. One of them has been

struck by a heavy shell and totally disabled, but the whole fleet has

passed on without finding it possible to capture or sink her without

losing their position in station and being left behind; the thought

foremost in every captain’s mind also being that the enemy’s fleet is

almost in contact with them, and that the moment to act has arrived.

“This is an example of an attack with ‘Harvey’ torpedoes from ahead and

across the bow.... In my opinion, it would invariably be rendered

fruitless if the bows of the ships attacked were protected by an iron

framework of the simplest description.

“But let us return to our little craft, in which we have already run the

gauntlet of the hostile fleet. Having cleared the enemy with little or no

damage, we look back and see our fleet of ironclads breaking through their

lines, which have been so shaken by our assault. When through, our fleet

re-forms and wheels for the next charge. We must be at work again; our

torpedoes are replaced, and everything is in working order. This time we

follow our ironclads to the charge. We are, if anything, more hopeful of

success. The enemy will not see us till we are at them; our blood is

warming to the work, and we feel that we have gained experience and

confidence by the first charge. Pressing on, we observe the second charge

of the fleet, amidst smoke, confusion, and thundering of cannon. The enemy

is prepared, and it is a case of ‘Greek meeting Greek.’ Our vessel is put

at full speed, and, with our consorts (now reduced to two), we go at the

enemy. However, in the charge that is made only one of us succeeds in

exploding a torpedo, and that without much damage to the enemy; one of our

consorts is run down and sunk, and we pass through, only dipping one

torpedo, and that too late to take effect. The enemy are not in the steady

line they were in before, and consequently we have not such an opportunity

of creating disorder, and have more difficulty in manœuvring to use our

weapon. Passing on, fortune still favours us. We come across an enemy

disabled, stern on to us with her ensign flying. ‘At her!’ is the order.

Another moment and we are close to her, our torpedo in beautiful position,

and the enemy helpless. Down comes her ensign, just in time; we are able

to let go the torpedo so as to clear her—now a lawful prize.

“So it is that I believe a torpedo vessel will be handled in an action. It

will be ticklish work; and all I can say is that the men who undertake it

should be gifted with coolness and courage above their fellows, as well as

with the utmost proficiency in handling their vessels.”

Perhaps the most formidable _ocean-going_ torpedo vessel yet constructed

is the American despatch-vessel _Alarm_, designed by Admiral David Porter,

of the United States Navy. It is 172 feet long, including a ram of

twenty-seven feet in length. One of her special qualities is the power of

launching torpedoes from almost any point, from cylinders specially

constructed for the purpose, that at the bow being thirty-two feet in

length. A torpedo-boat, built by the Messrs. Yarrow, of Poplar, for the

Russian Government during the late war, appears to have special merits. It

is built of light steel, with what is called a “whale-back”—a

semi-circular covering, which resists any ordinary shot and throws off any

sea whatever. The funnel is not in the centre, but towards the side, in

order not to interfere with the steersman’s view nor with the torpedo

boom. It has a boom which can be lowered in the water, the torpedo being

submerged ten feet before it is started off on its deadly errand. And,

finally, it can be projected from the stern, which gives it a splendid

chance of leaving before the final explosion.

In the late Turko-Russian war torpedoes were often attached to logs of

wood or clumps of brushwood, and floated into the stream of the Danube.

These often attracted little attention; and when they came into contact

with any obstacle the mine exploded by means of percussion, the blow being

delivered by a projecting arm or other contrivance driven back upon some

detonating substance within. The Harvey torpedo, one of the leading types,

consists of a stout wooden casing, strengthened on the outside with iron

straps, and containing a metal shell, which holds the powder charge. The

largest size of this weapon measures 4 feet 6 inches in length by 2 feet

in depth, and 2 feet 6 inches in width, and carries 100 lbs. of dynamite.

The torpedo is fired by being brought into hugging contact with an enemy’s

ship, when one or other of two projecting levers acts upon an exploding

bolt causing the ignition of the charge. The exploding apparatus consists

of a tube containing a chemical agent and a bulb holding another. The

nature of these chemicals is such that when they combine violent

combustion ensues, which explodes the charge. These torpedoes are towed at

the end of a long hawser, connected to a spar, so arranged that the

torpedo itself, instead of following immediately in the wake or trail of

the vessel towing it, diverges in the same manner that an otter float

does: from which device Captain Harvey took his idea. Attached to the

torpedo are two large buoys, for the purpose of supporting it when the

vessel is not moving through the water, or when the towing-line is

slackened. Another variety is fired by electricity.

The Whitehead, or “fish” torpedo, is a cigar-shaped steel cylinder 14 to

19 feet in length, and from 14 to 16 inches in diameter. It is sent off,

requiring no crew, against the ship to be destroyed; and if one torpedo

fails to deal the death-blow it can be followed up by another, or yet a

third. It consists of three compartments. The head contains the

explosive—say 360 lbs. of gun-cotton; the centre holds the machinery; and

the tail the highly-condensed air which works the engine. The engine is

about thirty-five pounds weight, and can be worked to forty horse power!

The explanation of this is simply that the working pressure of the

condensed air is 1,000 lbs. per square inch. The tail holds compressed air

sufficient to propel the torpedo 200 yards, at a rate of twenty-five miles

an hour, or 1,000 yards at the rate of seventeen miles.

The “battle of the guns” has not yet been fought; but how about the rams?

They have been proved the deadliest weapons of destruction in modern

times. The lessons of Lissa have been already cited in these pages; so

have the lessons taught by the loss of the _Vanguard_ and the _Grosser

Kurfurst_. In the latter cases it was friends that struck the blow. Some

of our greatest authorities consider that nothing can exceed the power of

the ram of a modern ironclad, properly applied. Admiral Touchard, of the

French Navy, says: “The ‘beak’ (_i.e._ ‘ram’) is now the principal weapon

in naval combats—the _ultima ratio_ of maritime war.” Captain Colomb, a

distinguished English authority, says: “Let us just recall the fact that

the serious part of a future naval attack does not appear to be the guns,

but the rams.” Yet again another authority, Captain Pellew, says: “Rams

are the arm of naval warfare to which I attach the chief importance. In my

opinion, the aim of all manœuvring and preliminary practice with the guns

should be to get a fair opportunity for ramming.”

The Sea: Its Stirring Story of Adventure, Peril, & Heroism. Volume 2 · 第 9 / 22 章