Herbert C. Fyfe

CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTORY

“The submarine craft is a miracle of ingenuity though Nelson and his hearts of oak, fighting only on deck, in God’s free air, and with ‘the meteor flag of England’ fluttering overhead, would have loathed and scorned her burglarious, area-sneak dodges down below.”

In modern under-water warfare two weapons are employed, the Mine and the Torpedo. Both are explosive devices, but whilst mines are stationary, torpedoes are endowed with the power of locomotion in some form or another.

The modern submarine boat is in reality a diving torpedo-boat and like all other torpedo craft of the present day its function is to discharge automobile torpedoes.

The submarine boat is sometimes said to be the child of the torpedo-boat. As a matter of fact the earliest known torpedo vessel was designed to do its work under water.

In 1776 an attack was made on the English frigate H.M.S. Eagle, and in 1777 on the English man-of-war H.M.S. Cerberus by a submarine vessel invented by David Bushnell and provided with “torpedoes.” Although no injury was inflicted on these ships, three of the crew of a prize schooner astern of the Cerberus, in hauling one of Bushnell’s drifting torpedoes on board, were killed by its explosion.

A few years afterwards Robert Fulton occupied himself with torpedoes, and like Bushnell he came to the conclusion that a submarine boat was the best suited for the discharge of his weapons. In time of peace Fulton showed that his torpedoes could sink ships, but in actual warfare he failed to accomplish the destruction of any craft. For a while torpedo warfare received but scant attention, but on the outbreak of the American Civil War the mine and the torpedo “leapt at one bound from the condition of theory and experiment to become accepted once for all as practical and valuable factors for offence and defence.”

At this period also it is to be noted that the torpedoists considered the under-water vessel the most favourable method of utilising the spar-torpedo, the weapon of the day. Both Federals and Confederates paid much attention to submarine navigation, and success attended the efforts of the latter, for on February 17, 1864, the Federal frigate Housatonic was sunk off Charleston by a submarine boat manned by the Confederates and armed with a spar-torpedo. This is the sole occasion on which an under-water vessel has ever succeeded in sinking a hostile craft in actual warfare, and even then it was being navigated in the awash condition, and not completely submerged.

The introduction of the automobile or fish torpedo led to the building of above-water torpedo vessels by all the great Powers. The idea of discharging this weapon from a submarine boat occupied the attention of numerous inventors, amongst others of Mr. Nordenfelt, of machine-gun fame.

Greece and Turkey both bought Nordenfelt submarine boats, but although they achieved a certain amount of success and were certainly the best specimens of under-water fighting vessels extant, they failed to receive wider recognition owing to their serious disadvantages.

The possibility of utilising the electric accumulator revived the hopes of the advocates of submarine navigation, and towards the end of the eighties, France added the first under-water torpedo-boat to her navy: since then her interest in the subject has never abated, and although it would be unfair to attribute to all French naval men and officials the ideas as to the superiority of the torpedo vessel to the ironclad put forward by a certain class of writers, it cannot be denied that the question of under-water warfare has attracted more attention in France than in any other country. A few years after the launch of the first French submarine, the Gymnote, the U.S. Government purchased the Holland, and in the same year ordered six more Hollands of an improved type.

When Greece and Turkey purchased Nordenfelt boats there were not wanting those who declared that Great Britain should also add under-water vessels to her navy. The official view was however hostile to such craft. In the early part of 1900, Viscount Goschen said that while close attention had been given by the Admiralty to the subject of submarine boats, they considered that even if the practical difficulties attending their use could be overcome, they would seem to be weapons for “maritime Powers on the defensive.” It seemed to him that the reply to this weapon must be looked for in other ways than in building submarine boats ourselves, for it was clear that one submarine boat could not fight another. It would seem from this that the Admiralty had no very high opinion of the submarine as an offensive weapon. However this may be, an order was placed in the autumn of 1900 with Messrs. Vickers Sons and Maxim for five of the newest “Holland” boats, they being the agents in Europe for the Holland Torpedo-boat Company of New York, and this being the only type available. Not till the statement of the First Lord was published on March 1, 1901, was the fact of the ordering of these boats made public; the secret had indeed been well kept.

He would be a bold man who would prophesy how the question of submarine navigation will stand fifty years hence. Some declare that the under-water vessel will go the way of the dynamite gun, the circular battleship, the aerial torpedo and other inventions; others affirm that the warfare of the future will take place neither on land nor on the seas, but in the air and beneath the waves. We shall see what we shall see. At present we would prefer to go no further than the cautious statement of the First Lord. “What the future value of these boats may be in naval warfare can only be a matter of conjecture. The experiments with these boats will assist the Admiralty in assessing their true value. The question of their employment must be studied, and all developments in their mechanism carefully watched by this country.”

CHAPTER II
THE PLACE OF THE SUBMARINE IN WARFARE

“Drake would have understood Trafalgar. Neither Drake nor Nelson could understand a modern naval action.”

“Competent authorities hold that the submersible torpedo-boat is the vessel of the future rather than either the existing type, or the ‘Destroyer’” (Excubitor in the Fortnightly Review for August, 1901).

“It is not only the unstable opinions of experts, liable to sudden change, which makes the forecast of future naval war difficult; it is that the progress of invention may be, for all we know, undermining the whole position by disturbing the balance which creates existing warship design” (the late Vice-Admiral P. H. Colomb).

“Conservatism has thus far delayed the adoption of a most valuable offensive and defensive weapon, not because success was ever proved to be unattainable, but because some vessels built by inexperienced inventors happened to be failures” (Mr. J. P. Holland).

“In the dawn of the twentieth century there has entered into the history of the world’s navies a class of vessel which is probably destined to revolutionise, eventually, the whole system of maritime construction. The problem of submarine navigation, in a limited sense at least, has been solved” (Lieutenant G. E. Armstrong).

“Most torpedo destruction has been done with a bag of explosive tied to the end of a pole, and the submarine boat will permit you to get closer to the enemy with a bigger bag of explosive and with less damage to the pole. You have all the advantages of attack with almost absolute safety to the torpedo-boat itself.”

THE FIRST SUBMARINE TO FLY THE WHITE ENSIGN.
(By permission of the Admiralty and Messrs. Vickers, Sons, and Maxim.)

At the present time opinion is divided as to the part that the submarine boat is likely to play in the naval warfare of the future. Those who have expressed themselves on the subject may be roughly divided into three classes.

1. Those who have little or no faith in submarines.

2. Those who believe that submarines will revolutionise warfare, ocean locomotion, marine industries, &c., and that an epoch may come in which merchantmen will alone sail the ocean and all the warships will be submarines or submersibles.

3. Those who recognise that the submarine boat of to-day is a great improvement on the boats of twenty years ago; who believe that although at present it suffers from grave defects, its development will continue, and who are of opinion that it will find useful spheres of action in time of war.

Much of the adverse criticism which the “submarine boat” has had to encounter has been due to the popular belief that this type of craft was intended to do its work below the surface of the water. As it is impossible at present to see beneath the waves, many critics have declared the submarine to be a perfectly useless fighting vessel. It cannot be too often asserted, for the sake of overcoming prejudice, that the proper place of the submarine is at the surface, and that she only goes below for short intervals. This is now universally recognised by constructors of such craft, which it might be more correct to term “submersibles” or “diving torpedo-boats.” So far back as 1886 Mr. Nordenfelt remarked, “It is impossible to think of a submarine boat that actually manoeuvres and does its work under water. I gave that up from the very commencement.”

By the term “submarine” we mean to imply a vessel capable of manoeuvring on the surface like an ordinary torpedo boat, of running awash with her conning tower alone above water to enable her to be steered, and of totally immersing herself for short periods either to escape detection, avoid the fire of the enemy, or fire torpedoes.

The history of the submarine bears a curious resemblance to that of the torpedo and the torpedo vessel in many particulars. All three have been declared to be the weapons of the weaker power and of no possible value to a nation which must maintain the command of the seas. The first Whitehead torpedoes were certainly slow and erratic; now they are capable of running within a few inches of the required depth at a speed of over 37 miles an hour for a range up to 2,000 yards, and hitting the point aimed at with almost the same precision as a gun.

In spite of the sneers of fossilised officials, Great Britain adopted the torpedo-boat, and in the process of time evolved the destroyer, an offensive weapon of no mean value, and a type of craft which some have declared to be the fighting vessel of the future. She will soon be in the possession of nine under-water vessels, and it may be that the submarines of twenty years hence will bear the same resemblance to those of to-day, as the Albatross does to the Lightning of 1877.

The very first submarine to figure in actual warfare was the boat invented by David Bushnell. His attempt to blow up the British frigate Eagle failed, mainly owing to the incapacity of the operator, Sergeant Ezra Lee. Fulton, although he blew up several old hulks in time of peace, was afforded no opportunity of testing the capabilities of his vessel in actual warfare.

U.S. SUBMARINE “SHARK” ON THE STOCKS.

During the American Civil War there occurred the famous incident of the destruction of the Housatonic by the Confederate diving torpedo-boat David—the only occasion on which a submarine boat has succeeded in inflicting injury on a hostile vessel in a naval action. Though many lives were lost in the David, this would not have occurred had the most ordinary precautions been taken.

On February 5, 1886, Mr. Nordenfelt read a paper before the Royal United Service Institution on his Submarine Boats; in the discussion that followed many eminent naval authorities took part, and the following are extracts taken from their speeches on this occasion:—

“My opinion is that all torpedo-boats should be submarine boats” (Admiral Arthur).

“With the cupola above water the submarine boat would prove a very formidable means of attack” (Admiral Sir Astley Cooper Key).

“Mr. Nordenfelt has done much towards solving a problem which is likely to be of great importance in future naval operations” (Vice-Admiral H.R.H. Duke of Edinburgh).

“I think Mr. Nordenfelt is to be congratulated on having made an enormous step forward, and one which I am sure has a great future before it” (Admiral Selwyn).

“If you want to economically defend a port it is better to have a boat that does not show at all. The moral effect of this boat would be enormous, and I am perfectly certain that foreign war vessels would not lay off a port to intercept outward- and homeward-bound vessels if they knew that there was a submarine vessel inside that could come out without being seen” (Major-General Hardinge Stewart).

“As far as practicability for warfare is concerned this submarine boat (the Nordenfelt) is pretty well accepted by the profession.... Therefore as a craft not altogether wholly submerged, but just a boat awash for coast defence, and also for the attack of ships at sea, and especially in heavy weather, when the fast torpedo boats cannot act, I believe the vessel will be found of great practical and reliable service” (Major-General Sir Andrew Clarke).

The Nordenfelt boats, as will be seen in Chapter XV, failed to come up to the high expectations that had been formed of them, and the British Admiralty considered themselves relieved from the necessity of taking up the subject of submarine navigation.

In 1888 France added the first submarine (the Gymnote) to her navy, and proceeded to lay down a certain number of under-water craft yearly. In 1900 the United States Government bought the Holland, and in many quarters the opinion was held that the Admiralty should carefully investigate the whole question of submarine warfare.

The official mind thought otherwise, and expressed itself thus: “We know all about submarines: they are the weapons of the weaker power; they are very poor fighting machines, and can be of no possible use to the Mistress of the Seas. We are very grateful to the Governments of France and the United States for expending so much money in experimenting with these craft, and in allowing us to buy experience for nothing; if ever they produce a vessel which we consider satisfactory we shall begin to build, but not till then.” The official mind was inclined to apply to submarine warfare, the words used by Earl St. Vincent in reference to Fulton’s torpedo warfare—“A mode of war which we who command the seas do not want, and which, if successful, would deprive us of it.”

This council of sitting still and watching others experiment did not commend itself to many thinking people who saw that the French and the Americans were every year improving their vessels and converting them little by little from expensive toys into fighting machines with which we should have to reckon sooner or later. Even the Engineer, never enthusiastic about submarine boats, went so far as to remark that “the day for pooh-poohing them is past.”

The anti-submarine party replied that the French and Americans were suffering from hallucinations; that the submarine boat was of no value except for purposes of defence, as its range of action was very limited. The advent of the Holland and the Narval, each capable of making long journeys, proved the fallacy of this view.

Shifting their ground they said that the submarine would be of no use as a weapon of offence, because it was blind; that it would never be able to fire a torpedo at a moving vessel whilst itself in motion; that its speed was so small that big ships could always avoid it; that it would be unable to remain under water for long, as the effect of “potted air” on the crew would be disastrous; and that its lack of longitudinal stability was a fatal drawback to its employment in action.

The behaviour of the Gustave ZÉdÉ, the Narval, and the Holland in manoeuvres, during the course of which they have all fired fish torpedoes whilst moving, which have hit targets, again showed that such arguments could not hold water.

Now whilst it is one thing to say that the submarine boat is a useless weapon to-day, it is quite another to prophecy that it will never be of any value to a navy whose ships are intended to act on the offensive.

The introduction of gunpowder; of steam; of the screw-propeller; of iron-built ships; of high-pressure engines; of rifled ordnance; of explosive shells; of armour plating; of twin-screws; of breech-loading guns; of steel-built ships; of the locomotive torpedo; of electricity on shipboard; of quick-firing and machine guns; of collapsible boats; of wireless telegraphy; of turbine vessels; of devices for coaling ships at sea; of magazine-rifles, &c., &c., have been successively ridiculed by those responsible for the condition of the British Navy.

Officialism is, and always has been, a foe to inventive progress, and the official mind still seems incapable of realising that invention is a plant of slow growth; that improvements or innovations when first mooted do not necessarily represent their final form, and that all the great advances and revolutions in the past in the world of science, invention, and discovery have sprung from small beginnings which have grown gradually and slowly until they forced upon themselves the recognition that was their due.

Faraday, when asked by “practical people” the use of any of his experimental researches, would reply, “What is the use of a baby?” An invention resembles a baby, in that it needs to be carefully watched, tended, and cared for in its initial stages if ever it is to be of any value in the world.

We all remember the gentleman who said that he would eat the first steamboat that crossed the Atlantic; the Quarterly Reviewer who wrote with reference to the proposal to build a line to Woolwich that “he should as soon expect the people of Woolwich to suffer themselves to be fired off by one of Congreve’s ricochet rockets as trust themselves to the mercy of a high-pressure steam engine travelling at the awful speed of eighteen to twenty miles an hour”; and the wiseacres who pooh-poohed the electric telegraph and telephone, the electric light, the electric car, the pneumatic-tyred bicycle, and many other inventions which have come into general use.

Granting, as we do, that the submarine is at present in a very inefficient stage of its existence, the necessity for experiment in view of the march of science during the past century is obvious. What should we say of a professor who pleaded that his experiments were a waste of time and money, as he could arrive at his end quite as well by simply reading what other professors in foreign countries were doing?

One cannot too often insist on the fact that it is only by actual experiment that useful facts are arrived at, and that in the investigation of new devices more can, as a rule, be learnt from an experiment carefully arranged and personally carried out than from the reading of voluminous reports of the work of others.

LAUNCH OF U.S. SUBMARINE “SHARK.”

Rear-Admiral C. C. P. FitzGerald, in an article in the Empire Review for February, 1901, on “Our Naval Strength,” referring to submarines said:—“It seems a little risky to hold our hand altogether. We are said to be ‘watching,’ and no doubt it will be very convenient if we can allow others to spend their time and money on experiments and then just cut in at the right moment when the submarine boat has established itself as a practicable engine of warfare and build as many as we want with the unrivalled resources which we are so fond of talking about. But it should be remembered that secrets are better kept abroad than they are in England and that a new mechanical industry always takes some time to develop and to train the special workmen essential to its prosecution.”

Mr. Arnold Forster has himself said that an ounce of practice is worth a ton of theory, and it would be well if all officials thought as he does. There is far too little experimental work and practical trial of novel ideas both in the Army and the Navy. If we were never going to use our soldiers or our ships in actual warfare it would be both economical and prudent to wait until other nations had perfected inventions before adopting them ourselves. In this case we should never make any progress at all, for the reason that no improvement is final, and that the fleet of to-day is a totally different thing from the fleet of fifty years ago.

Si vis pacem para bellum. The essence of maritime war is, it has been well said, its suddenness, and a day gained in striking the first blow may make the difference between the fall of an empire and the annihilation of the enemy. To wait to consider to what use we can put submarine vessels and to postpone the question of discovering the most effective method of destroying the boats of the enemy until war breaks out is a suicidal policy, which, however, seemed for many years to appeal to a “Government of Amateurs.”

Had there been more experimental work before the outbreak of the Boer War our army would have probably finished its task sooner and with less loss of life. Questions such as the employment of heavy field ordnance, of telescopic sights, of shields for guns and rifles, of motors, of electricity, &c., will have to be considered when the war is over, but they should have received attention before hostilities commenced. If every nation would agree to maintain the status quo and to make no effort to keep its navy and its army abreast of the advances of modern scientific progress and invention, then the policy of our Admiralty and War Office would be excellently suited to our needs. As it is, however, Germany, France, the United States, Russia, and Japan are much more ready to improve their services than is Great Britain, whose officials, for the sake of peace and quiet, snub the inventor and smother their consciences by repeating that all is well in our army and navy. Only when great pressure is brought to bear on them will they stir themselves. Admiral Sir E. Fremantle recently suggested that there ought to be a committee on inventions always sitting, and Mr. Laird Clowes has appealed for readier official interest in certain recent inventions.

The experiments with the British submarines must be carefully watched in order that we may arrive at a well-reasoned opinion concerning their future. It may be that it will be decided that for our purposes a means of destroying the submarines of the enemy will be of more value than the boats themselves. On the other hand, the conclusion may be reached that for certain purposes this type of craft will be a useful adjunct to our fleet. Whatever the decision may be it is quite certain that the submarine boat will continue to receive improvements at the hands of inventors, and that as practical applications have been found for the RÖntgen Rays and wireless telegraphy, so uses will be found for the submarine of the future which may be as great an improvement on the submarine of to-day as the Deutschland is over the Savannah, the first steam-packet that ever crossed the Atlantic.

Those who discuss submarine navigation as if it were quite a new development are apt to forget that the earliest use of the torpedo was in an under-water vessel. Bushnell and Fulton, no less than the Confederates of a later day, saw that their best chance of success lay in attacking by stealth, and though the modern Whitehead is a very different weapon to the cases of explosive used by Bushnell and Fulton, or the spar-torpedo employed by the Confederates in their Davids, there are still the same advantages to be gained by a submarine attack.

Whilst the torpedoists of the extreme school claim that torpedo vessels can attack with a very good chance of success in daylight, the more general opinion is that they will he utilised chiefly under cover of darkness, and that the destroyer and the smaller torpedo-boat would stand no chance in broad daylight against the tremendous artillery fire to which they would be subjected by the battleships singled out for attack. Even at night, however, the flare from her funnels might betray the destroyer.

A writer in the United Service Gazette a few years ago remarked that the development of quick-firing guns brought about by the increase in the offensive and defensive power of swift torpedo-boats threatened ere long to completely abolish the use of surface torpedo-boats in marine warfare unless the latter could be rendered proof against those terribly destructive weapons, the new rapid-firing guns of large calibre. To secure this invulnerability by the aid of armour would destroy the speed and hardiness of the torpedo-boats, and it had long been the opinion amongst naval officers, more especially on the Continent and in America, that if the torpedo is to be used for successful attack it would have to be discharged from a vessel which was rendered invulnerable by being totally submerged—that is to say, from a submarine torpedo-boat.

The submarine boat of the future will be a diving torpedo-boat capable of manoeuvring (1) on the surface, (2) awash with conning tower only above the water, and (3) beneath the waves.

It will have two methods of propulsion, one for the surface, one for beneath the water, and its mode of operation will be to steam on the surface until it is within sighting range; to then take in enough water ballast to bring it to the “awash” condition, thus greatly reducing the chances of being hit; and, having approached within a certain distance of the enemy, to sink entirely beneath the waves, rising once probably for a second to take final bearings before firing its torpedo.

The nine vessels ordered for our navy are really diving torpedo-boats and are not intended for use under water except for very short intervals of time. The submarine of to-day bears a close resemblance to the torpedo-boat in the early stages of its development and appears to be of more value to a country that is desirous of defending its coasts than to one which must maintain the command of the seas.

There are signs, however, that in the process of its evolution the submarine will go through many of the same stages as did the torpedo vessel, and will develop into an offensive weapon which England will be unable any longer to despise.

That a Holland, a Narval, or a Gustave ZÉdÉ is as formidable an adversary as an Albatross or an Express few would claim, but the last word has not yet been said on submarine navigation, and the future may be expected to bring about many changes.

For purposes of coast defence the submarine may be said to have fairly established its value. The knowledge that such craft were “in being” would have a deterrent influence upon an admiral attacking a fort or contemplating a blockade, and in all probability the days of close blockade are over.

As a weapon of offence the utility of the submarine boat is not so clearly established. It is true that some of the French boats have operated at a considerable distance from their base, but its speed, its seaworthiness, and range of action must be improved before the submarine can be regarded as a useful adjunct to a fleet acting on the offensive. The radius of action at the surface of the newest Hollands is only 400 knots at 8 knots per hour, and submerged the speed is 7 knots for a four hours’ run.

THE “FULTON” RUNNING ON THE SURFACE.

Still even now there are uses to which a submarine boat might be put, such, for instance, as the attack of ships shut up in a blockaded harbour, or of vessels in port; the destruction of a mine field so that ships may enter in safety; the cutting and repairing of cables; the forcing an entrance through a boom, &c.

The late Captain Cairnes, in his book “The Coming Waterloo,” enunciated the theory that even if the British fleet destroyed the French fleet it would still be necessary for us to land an army on French soil in order to bring hostilities to a conclusion. In that case submarine boats would probably be employed, for some of the purposes above enumerated.

It has been suggested that small diving torpedo-boats might be carried on battleships, and it is said that the United States have been experimenting with vessels of this kind. The difficulties of hoisting such vessels in and out of a big ship are, however, considerable, and few naval officers favour this idea. Perhaps a special “submarine depot ship” somewhat similar to the Vulcan might be useful for conveying submarines to foreign waters.

In the opinion of many naval experts most of the naval actions of the future will be virtually decided quite outside the reach of any torpedo yet designed, and at ranges almost beyond the ken of unaided human vision, owing to the fact that with the breech-loading gun of to-day accurate practice can be made at very long range. The battle of Manila was fought and decided at a distance varying from 5,600 to 2,000 yards, and the battle of Santiago from 5,000 to 1,600. A naval battle of the future, according to a distinguished German admiral, if both adversaries are determined and energetic, will resemble a conflict between two stags, which in a moment of fury rush upon one another, entangling their antlers, and, in the end of ends, destroying one another. Or if the enemies are less determined, a naval battle will resemble a contest of athletes, the combatants moving backwards and forwards in serpentine lines; both will keep up fire from a great distance until neither has enough ammunition left to strike a decisive blow.

In the opinion of the late M. Jean de Bloch the warfare of the future will resemble the latter picture, but it will be remembered that this writer in his book, “Is War now Impossible?” laid it down that the bayonet would never be used, as troops would be unable to cross the terrible bullet-swept zone and thus come into personal contact with the enemy. The Boer War has proved on the contrary that the bayonet is still a valuable weapon, and that the bravery of the soldier, combined with artillery fire, will enable him to use it with good effect in spite of the modern rifle.

What the bayonet is in military, that the submarine is in naval warfare. The increasing range of rifle and cannon enable both combatants, if well entrenched, to blaze away at one another and do very little damage, and the necessity therefore arises, if a definite conclusion is to be reached, for some sharp and sudden blow to be delivered at close quarters that shall cause the enemy to evacuate his position and beat a hasty retreat. A bayonet charge is a desperate affair no doubt, but owing to the modern art of entrenchment, recourse must be had to it if the enemy is to be shifted.

In much the same way a submarine attack will be ordered when firing at long ranges has had no effect. There will be great risks, but the chances of a successful attack will be sufficient to warrant its being tried.

In conclusion the following extract from a recent article in the Engineer—a journal which has always regarded the submarine with suspicion—may be quoted: “We must not shut our eyes to the fact that the semi-submarine boat may be a very dangerous foe. Years have passed since we pointed this out. It seems to be admitted that a fast torpedo-boat can get within say a mile of an enemy without certainty of destruction. Indeed, up to that she is fairly safe. If now, that point reached, she descends say five feet below the surface, leaving a conning tower just level with the water, she can be steered, and the chances that she will be sunk by her enemies are very small. The five feet of water above her would deflect all projectiles from machine guns. She would have to get very close up to be hit hard even by heavier metal, and the little conning tower at the water level would be a very difficult matter to strike. A fast vessel operating thus a fleur d’eau would be no despicable enemy. And it is in this direction we think that submarine attacks will be developed with the best chance of success.”

CHAPTER III
THE MORALITY OF SUBMARINE WARFARE

“War’s a brain-spattering, wind-pipe slitting art. It is not to be ‘humanised,’ but only abolished one fine day when nations have cut their wisdom teeth.”

“Inter arma silent leges.”

“All’s fair in love and war.”

“The sea fights of the future, with improved ships, guns, and range-finders, may be fought at ranges almost beyond the ken of unaided human vision. It is to be hoped that before that time arrives the progress of civilisation, intellect, and humanity will have consigned all weapons of war to the museum of the antiquary, and that other methods than war may have been discovered for preserving the peace and virility of men and nations.”

In the early years of the nineteenth century the writer of an article in the Naval Chronicle, devoted to a consideration of Fulton’s schemes, stigmatised his torpedoes and submarine boats as “revolting to every noble principle,” their projector as a “crafty murderous ruffian,” and his patrons as “openly stooping from their lofty stations to superintend the construction of such detestable machines, that promised destruction to maritime establishments.” He went on to protest against the policy of encouraging inventions that tended to innovate on the triumphant system of naval warfare in which England excelled, and he concluded thus:

“Guy Fawkes is got afloat, battles in future may be fought under water; our invincible ships of the line may give place to horrible and unknown structures, our projects to catamarans, our pilots to divers, our hardy, dauntless tars to submarine assassins; coffers, rockets, catamarans, infernals, water-worms, and fire-devils! How honourable! how fascinating is such an enumeration! How glorious, how fortunate for Britain are discoveries like these! How worthy of being adopted by a people made wanton by naval victories, by a nation whose empire are the seas!”

It is quite evident that even in this “so-called Twentieth Century” there exist many Britons who in their heart of heart agree with this writer, and who cherish the idea, though they may not openly express it, that there is something mean and underhanded, something dishonourable and “un-English” in all methods of under-water warfare. The Englishman prides himself on being a lover of fair play, and so long as the odds are more or less equal, he is ready to enjoy any contest or sport. The average Englishman is neither a hot-headed Jingoist, nor a peace-at-any-price humanitarian; he regards wars as unfortunate necessities of modern civilisation, and he likes to see them waged fairly and squarely, each side observing the rules of the game. As regards warfare on land, it must be confessed that he has had to correct some of his ideas since the Boer war. He would have preferred the enemy to come out into the open and fight like men. Instead of this, they took every precaution to avoid being seen, and our army found that it had to face an invisible foe. From the Boers we have learnt the lesson of the value of cover and entrenchments, and now officers and men, however much they may dislike it, are forced to seek and utilise cover whenever possible, making it their aim to hit their opponents and to avoid being hit themselves.

“Let us admit it fairly as a business people should,

We have had no end of a lesson, it will do us no end of good.”

In naval warfare we have had no opportunity of learning our lesson in the light of actual experience, for we have had no big battle on the seas since Trafalgar, and our naval supremacy has not been seriously threatened since 1805; it is thus possible for men to hold different opinions as to the value of submarine fighting, and we consequently find that there are numerous people who, whilst they would not go so far as to declare mines, torpedoes, and submarine boats unlawful, yet consider them as methods better fitted to the requirements of other nations than to those of the Mistress of the Seas.

Modern submarine warfare was introduced by two Americans, David Bushnell and Robert Fulton, and forced itself into prominence during the American War of Independence. The spar-torpedo originated in America; the Whitehead torpedo was first adopted by the Austrian Government, and Norway, Sweden, Denmark, France, and Austria all began to build torpedo boats before Great Britain condescended to add them to her Navy.

As to submarine vessels Greece and Turkey purchased Nordenfelt boats in 1887. France built her first boat in 1888, and the United States purchased her first submarine, the Holland, in 1900. Great Britain, then, has followed instead of leading other nations in the matter of mines, torpedoes, and submarine boats, and has only been induced to adopt such methods of warfare because other nations forced her to do so.

Before the advent of the torpedo boat, Great Britain was secure in her position of Mistress of the Seas, so long as she possessed more line-of-battle ships than any other nation. The arrival of the torpedo-boat, the destroyer, and the submarine, all armed with the Whitehead torpedo, has given weaker nations the chance of attacking our ironclads with new weapons, and there are even those who affirm that the battleship is doomed, and must give way to a different type of craft.

The whole trend of modern invention has been to the advantage of weaker nations. Earl St. Vincent described under-water methods as “a mode of war which they, who commanded the seas, did not want, and which, if successful, would deprive them of it.” It is quite true that Great Britain would sooner trust to her guns and her line-of-battle ships than to her torpedoes and torpedo craft in actions on the high seas, but owing to other nations—admittedly weaker—having adopted the torpedo, she has no choice but to adopt it also in order to maintain her naval supremacy. So long as she provides herself not only with methods of submarine attack, but also with means of warding off the under-water attacks of the enemy, other nations are not likely to wrest the command of the seas from her.

It is idle to lament the advancement of Science. Man is an inventive animal, and is ever trying to inaugurate new devices and improve on old ones. For hundreds of years the sailing ship held the field, and guns and cannon underwent but little change. During the “Wonderful Century,” however, changes began in earnest. The wooden sailing ship disappeared, and the steam-driven ironclad took its place, whilst rifled ordnance, high explosive shells, and powerful propellants were introduced.

The fish torpedo made its appearance, and the swift torpedo vessel followed in its wake, and we are now threatened with submarine boats, turbine-driven men-of-war, and aerial machines for the launching of aerial torpedoes both on armies and on fleets.

What the future has in store none can foresee, and until the next great naval battle between first-class Powers comes to pass the value of modern engines of warfare will remain doubtful. All that is certain at present is that Great Britain cannot afford to dispense with mines, torpedoes, and submarine boats.

We may seem to have wandered a long way from the “morality of submarine warfare,” but our purpose has been to show that when certain people argue—as they do seriously in this year of grace—that torpedo warfare should be declared contrary to the laws and customs of war, they are, to a certain extent, influenced by the fact that the torpedo is a weapon which Great Britain could very well do without, provided it was tabooed by other nations.

No one, not even a member of the Peace Society, would urge the suppression of the Lee-Enfield, or the quick-firer, because Great Britain relies on these for the maintenance of her place in the front rank of the nations of the world, and the argument as to the “illegitimacy” of the torpedo depends largely on the fact that other nations gain and Great Britain loses by its adoption.

There have been persons who have argued in favour of giving no quarter to crews of torpedo boats and submarines that might fall into our hands, and have suggested that we could explain such action to the other Powers, to whose advantage it is to use such weapons, by saying that though we had been driven to employ such methods, we were forced to treat the practice with severity. Such a course of action would cut both ways, and we suspect our own torpedoists would be very much averse to it.

Strange engines of warfare and new modes of fighting are received by the bulk of a nation, whose instincts are conservative and whose minds are incapable of imagining a state of things other than that which prevails at the moment, in much the same way as are new inventions. They are first of all scouted as impossible; then, if possible, of no utility; and finally, when they have been universally adopted, they are declared to be no novelties at all. Just as many old ladies have been heard to declare that they will never travel by the Two-penny Tube, so nations have been known to disclaim all intention of using particular weapons. Yet after a time we find the old ladies in the Tube and the nations employing the weapons. Familiarity breeds contempt.

The earliest man—Homo sapiens—fought with his fists, his legs, and his teeth. Gradually he made for himself weapons, deriving his first instruction in their manufacture by observing the ways in which the animal creation fought one another. His earliest weapons were made of wood, bone, and stone, and in due course there was evolved the spear, the waddy, the boomerang, the hatchet, the tomahawk, the bow and arrow, the pike, the lance, the axe, the sword, and other implements.

It is exceedingly probable that the adoption of a new engine of warfare by a tribe would be condemned by another tribe—to whom it had not occurred to use it—as illegitimate, but it is equally probable that while sturdily protesting against the use of one weapon the tribe would be slily endeavouring to procure one more deadly still.

The first great revolution in the art of war was the introduction of gunpowder, both as a propelling agent and also as a charge for shells and bombs. Although the explosive nature of saltpetre when mixed with carbon and charcoal was doubtless known to the Chinese some centuries before the Christian era, our first knowledge of the use of gunpowder as a military agent dates from the seventh century, when it was used by the Byzantine emperors under the name of “Greek fire” in the defence of Constantinople against the Saracens.

“Greek fire,” the invention of which is commonly attributed to Callinichus in 668 A.D., consisted probably of pounded resin or bitumen, sulphur, naphtha, and nitre. There were three ways of employing it: it was poured out burning from ladles on besiegers, it was projected out of tubes to a distance, and it was shot from balistÆ burning on tow, tied to arrows. Its effect was probably rather moral than material.

Geoffrey de Vinesauf, in an account of a naval battle in the time of Richard I., writes thus of Greek fire: “The fire, with a deadly stench and livid flames, consumes flint and iron; and unquenchable by water, can only be extinguished by sand or vinegar. What more direful than a naval conflict! What more fatal, when so various a fate envolves the combatants, for they are either burnt and writhe in the flames, shipwrecked and swallowed up by the waves, or wounded and perish by arms.”

Despite the lamentations of the humanitarians of the time, Greek fire and serpents (missiles resembling rockets charged with and impelled by the slow explosion of a certain mixture) continued to be used in the navy until the reign of Richard III.

Another favourite method of early naval warfare was the “fire-ship.” Falkiner, an old writer, tells us that fire-ships were used by the Rhodians in 190 B.C. They were certainly used by the Greeks; they were employed by ourselves against the Armada, and they first appeared in our Navy List in the year 1675; they were used in the Dutch and French wars at the close of that century, but probably fell into disuse in the eighteenth. It is quite clear that with the French, as well as with ourselves, the crews of fire-ships did not expect quarter. Admiral Gambier deprecated fire-ships as being a “horrible and anti-Christian mode of warfare,” while Lord Cochrane said that if any attempts were made upon the British squadron by fire-ships they would be “boarded by the numerous row-boats on guard, the crews murdered, and the fire-ships turned in a harmless direction.”

Lord Dunsany appeared to think that this apparently cruel rule of no quarter to the crews of fire-ships worked well for humanity in practice, and he seemed to be in favour of its being extended to the crews of torpedo-boats and submarines. His Lordship pointed out, in a lecture at the Royal United Service Institution, that the crews of fire-ships would not stick to their ships to the moment of explosion, but had after firing the fuse to make their escape in boats, which boats, as they passed through the enemy’s lines, would naturally become targets, and if meanwhile some ship clasped in the deadly embrace of the fire-ship had exploded, it was all the more likely that the fugitives would be the objects of unsparing vengeance.

“Probably then the vague but fatal epithet ‘un-English’ came to attach to men who used a deadly weapon, but withdrew themselves (sometimes too quickly) from the fray. I cannot produce evidence of the facts, but I believe that officers serving in fire-ships did not stand high with their brother officers. It is some confirmation of this creed that we do not find the Boscawens, Rodneys, Howes, Jervises, Nelsons serving in fire-ships.”

The first use of gunpowder as a propelling agent was in Spain in the twelfth century, at which period both the Moors and the Christians used artillery. It was first employed in warfare in England in 1327 by Edward III. in his war against the Scotch, the cannon from which the shot was fired being termed “Crakys of war.”

There is abundant evidence that the use of artillery in battle was at first thought to be improper. When cannon was employed at Chiaggia in the fourteenth century all Italy made complaint against this manifest contravention of fair warfare; the ruling classes, seeing their armour, lances, and knightly prowess rendered useless, vigorously opposed the newly-invented arms, declaring that they were calculated to extinguish personal bravery. Perhaps this sentiment may have had some weight with our navy, for it was not until towards the close of the sixteenth century that artillery finally assumed the position of the dominant arm in the service and that musketry fire altogether displaced the arrow and the bolt.

Shells appear to have been first used by the Sultan of Gujarat in 1480, and they were in general use about the middle of the seventeenth century.

There is no doubt whatever that shells and bombs were considered highly immoral by the side which did not employ them. To those accustomed only to fire solid shot there must have been something very terrifying in the hurling of shells fitted with explosives which when they burst slew those round about and set fire to dwellings and ships.

When the Bomb Ketch, a ship firing bombs and shells, was introduced into our navy in the seventeenth century, the French were particularly angered by the “inhumanity” of the English in firing “inflammable fire balls and shells.” Again in the eighteenth century we find the Marechal de Conflans issuing an order against the use of hollow shot or incendiary shell because they “were not generally used by polite nations, and the French ought to fight according to the laws of honour.”

At the battle of the Nile in 1798 the French flagship L’Orient took fire and blew up, and when the French sailors reproached the English for using incendiary missiles the latter repudiated the charge, and mentioned that they had found such unlawful weapons in one of the prizes they had taken; thus the hollowness of the French regard for humane warfare was neatly demonstrated.

Whilst Great Britain did not scruple to fire lyddite shells at the Boers, their wives, and their children at Paardeberg, she prided herself on her abstention from the use of explosive or expanding bullets, and much abuse was heaped on the Boers for their employment of such. It may, however, be doubted whether a bullet which kills you right off at once, or at any rate which disables you permanently for a long time, is not preferable to one which is of so mild a nature that you can be shot over and over again, alternating your appearances on the battlefield with visits to the hospital.

A lecture on “Explosive Bullets and their Application to Military Purposes” was delivered before the Royal United Service Institution in 1868 by Major G. V. Fosbery, the first officer to use these projectiles in the field, systematically and to any large extent, against some of the mountain tribes of the North-West frontier of India. The lecturer tells us that the natives considered them unfair on two grounds—firstly, because they exploded in an objectionable way; secondly, because there was nothing they could collect of them afterwards, as in the case of ordinary bullets. But more civilised people complained of the use of “rifle shell” on the ground of their Satanic nature, and to these Major Fosbery replies as follows:

“The arguments which condemn a warlike instrument simply on the grounds of its destructiveness to life, provided that it neither adds keen agony to wounds nor new terrors to death itself, are, if logically pursued, simply retrogressive, and even if not recommending by implication a return to the bow and arrow, at all events point to the old times of protracted wars and deaths from fatigue and disease far exceeding in number those caused by the weapons of an enemy. We can therefore afford to set these on one side, or rather we are bound to neglect them altogether and seriously consider any invention which under the conditions above laid down promises us a more certainly destructive fire than that attainable cÆteris paribus by the arms at present included in our war material.”

In spite of opinions such as these the humanitarians have won the day, and explosive bullets are now tabooed by Great Britain. The great Duke of Wellington used to say that he should not like to see the bullet reduced in size, because it broke the bone, and the object of war was either to kill your man or else put him in hospital and keep him there. With the Mauser and the Lee-Enfield neither of these results is attained.

The prototypes of the modern submarine torpedo, although they were employed on the surface of the water and not below, were the “machine,” the “infernal,” the “catamaran,” the “powder-vessel,” &c.

“Machines” may be best described as fire-ships specially arranged so as to explode very destructively when alongside one of the enemy’s vessels. They are first found in the British Navy in the seventeenth century, but were soon discontinued, not we are afraid on humanitarian grounds, but because Bushnell and Fulton pointed the way to the more convenient explosive device known as the “torpedo.”

In the year 1650 Prince Rupert made an attempt to blow up the English Vice-admiral in the Leopard by a species of “infernal.” He sent a couple of negroes and one of his seamen in Portuguese dress alongside the Leopard in a shore boat. They carried with them what purported to be a barrel of oil, but the barrel really held an infernal machine to be fired by a pistol attachment, the trigger of which could be pulled by a string passing through the bung. The story goes that one of the crew of the boat, finding the lower deck ports closed, “uttered an exclamation” in English. This betrayed them, but Blake refused to take vengeance on them, though the trick was one he would himself have scorned to play on his adversary.

During the war between Great Britain and the United States in 1812 H.M.S. Ramilies of seventy-four tons, was so unfortunate as to be the object of attack both by a diving vessel carrying torpedoes and by a powder-ship. The Ramilies was lying off New London at anchor and maintaining the blockade. As she was known to be short of provisions the Americans fitted out a schooner and filled the hold with powder, covering it over in the hatchways with barrels of flour. By means of an ingenious piece of clockwork attached to a gunlock and a train leading to the powder its explosion was ensured at the intended time. The Ramilies suspecting nothing, but thanking Heaven for the gift, captured the vessel and the crew escaped to land. By some extraordinary chance (or was it destiny?) the schooner was ordered to anchor near another prize some distance from the Ramilies, so that when the clockwork reached the fatal hour, 2.30, the charge exploded and blew up, not the Ramilies with her captain, Sir Thomas Hardy, and crew of six hundred men, but only the prize crew who were in the schooner.

The naval historian James could not trust himself to comment upon “this most atrocious proceeding,” whilst a naval officer wrote: “A quantity of arsenic in the flour would have been so perfectly compatible with the rest of the contrivance that we wonder it was not resorted to. Should actions like this receive the sanction of Governments, the science of war and the laws of nations will degenerate into the barbarity of the Algerians, and pillage will take the place of kindness and humanity to our enemies.”

During the American Civil War a species of weapon known as a “coal torpedo” was employed. This consisted of a hollow lump of iron, fitted with a charge of dynamite. It was rubbed over with coal tar and dust, and exactly resembled a large lump of coal. Lord Dunsany thought that this certainly seemed to be on the verge of lawful, if not beyond it.

At the close of the eighteenth century David Bushnell inaugurated the era of submarine warfare by devising cases fitted with explosives, arranged to go off at a set time by clockwork. To enable these cases to be affixed to the sides of vessels, Bushnell invented the first boat capable of diving beneath the waves of which we have any definite details. His attempts to blow up the Eagle in 1776 by a case fastened on her bottom, and the Cerberus in 1777 by means of a towing torpedo, failed, owing more to the lack of skill on the part of the operator, Sergt. Ezra Lee, than to any defect in the apparatus employed. Nor was Bushnell successful in his effort to destroy vessels in the Delaware by the aid of a number of kegs filled with powder and set adrift.

The introduction of gunpowder, of Greek fire, of fire-ships, of artillery, of shells, of bombs, of machines, of infernals, of catamarans, of powder vessels having, as has been shown, been at one time or another denounced as immoral by certain “humanitarians,” it was but natural that a secret contrivance for bringing about a terrific explosion beneath an unsuspecting ship’s crew should have been believed to be an invention of the Evil One, and history affords proof that the novel modes of fighting introduced by Bushnell and Fulton were regarded with great disfavour by naval men, who considered the innovators as men “who would discredit the glorious traditions of our navy, and substitute a set of catamarans for the noble frigates that had carried our flag to victory and were the pride of the nation”; by humanitarians, who regarded the torpedoes as a “dishonest and cowardly system of warfare”; and by the public generally, who denounced the nations who attempted to compass the destruction of British ships of the line by dastardly tricks which England would never stoop to employ.

In a work written by James Kelly, and published in 1818, the author comments with great severity on “some infamous and insidious attempts to destroy British men-of-war upon the coasts of America by torpedoes and other explosive machinery.” This refers to the attacks on H.M.S. Ramilies by one of Fulton’s boats, attacks which failed, but which caused Sir Thomas Hardy to notify the American Government that he had ordered on board from fifty to one hundred American prisoners of war, “who, in the event of the effort to destroy the ship by torpedoes or other infernal inventions being successful, would share the fate of himself and his crew.” So frightened were the relations and friends of prisoners of war by these threats that public meetings were held, and petitions were presented to the American executive against the further employment of torpedoes in the ordinary course of warfare.

Those who endeavoured to perfect a system of submarine mining for the defence of harbours and coasts were abused in the same way that Bushnell and Fulton had been. Samuel Colt, the inventor of the pistol which bore his name, and one of the first to experiment with mines fired from shore by means of an electric current, was roundly denounced by John Quincy Adams, who dubbed him “that Guy Fawkes afloat.”

At the time of the Crimean War the popular term “infernal machine” was applied to the submarine mines laid down by the Russians to defend the approaches to Cronstadt. In the seventies Lieut.-Col. Martin endeavoured to establish, on the grounds of humanity, an international anti-torpedo association, while even to-day there are people found to protest against the employment of certain forms of torpedoes, as witness the following letter recently published in the Engineer. The author, Mr. Reginald Bolton, declared that while no one could object to the defensive lay torpedo or the spar torpedo, the same could not be said of the “Whitehead,” “Brennan,” or “Edison.”

“Surely,” he urges, “our forefathers’ code of morality in warfare should not be in advance of our own. All civilised nations have debarred the brutal explosive bullet, and why not the equally mean submarine torpedo? If such a remedy as Commodore Hardy’s were to be applied by any nation, could its opponent complain, and is there anything in the practice of morality to prevent, say, a thousand prisoners’ lives being presented as a bar to the use of an implement which was acknowledged to be a disgrace to its employers not less than eighty years ago?”

The methods of warfare which have most aroused the ire of humanitarians and “blatant platform orators, with their vulgar party cries of eternal peace,” are those which depend for their success on secrecy or deceit. Powder vessels, coal torpedoes, et hoc genus omne, are condemned because they pretend to be what in reality they are not, and torpedoes and submarine boats because they advance in secrecy without giving the enemy any chance of firing at them or of protecting themselves against their insidious attacks beneath the water-line.

The arguments of the humanitarians, who are doubtless well meaning enough, are inconsistent, because, while they raise no protest against certain modes of conducting war, they unreservedly condemn other methods—mainly, it must be observed, because of their novelty. Such a class of person resembles the Quaker who found himself on a vessel engaged in a conflict with another vessel. He resolutely refused to assist in fighting the guns, but at last, when the enemy attempted to board, he collared the leader and pitched him into the sea, saying as he did so, “Friend, thou hast no business here.”

Major Fosbery, in a lecture on explosive bullets, asked whether any of the deaths due to fighting were, strictly speaking, humane, and if they were not, what was this humanity of which so much was made? “Have we not heard that in the dark ages humanity beat out men’s brains with a mace, whilst cruelty used the lance, the sword, and the arrow, and that bishops of the period rode into action with the mace so as to kill without shedding blood? A very nice distinction indeed, as you will admit. In later times, were not Congreve and Shrapnel denounced as monsters for the initiation of inventions in whose perfection we rejoice to-day?”

Inconsistency indeed is the particular failing of Peace propagandists. They not only condemn the use of certain weapons while raising no protest against others equally as destructive of life, but they also pretend to be horrified at deeds committed by the enemy which they themselves would not scruple to do should opportunity offer. Particularly is this the case in savage warfare. Captain Herbert has mentioned a striking instance during the Zulu War. One day the boys were calling in the streets, “Shocking murder of a whole British regiment” (it was at Isandlewana), and a few weeks afterwards the same boys were shouting, “Great slaughter of the Zulus.” This is akin to the practice of those orators who refer to the “expansion” of England, but to the “encroachment” of Russia.

As to the “inhumanity” of the submarine vessel, Mr. Nordenfelt, it may be noted, would not admit that there was anything especially cruel or horrible in the idea of a diving torpedo boat. War altogether was cruel and horrible, and caused an enormous amount of pain and suffering, but any invention which tended to shorten a war or to protect common or private property during war would really diminish this suffering on the whole. Humanitarians had urged that there was something especially cruel in the secrecy of the submarine boat, but the whole tendency of war had, he pointed out, moved in this direction ever since the days of old, when Hector and Achilles advanced in front of their respective followers and spent half an hour in abusing their adversary’s parents and ancestors before they commenced to fight.

EMERGING TO TAKE BEARINGS.

The whole object of modern warfare is to keep the enemy ignorant of your whereabouts and your actions, and to mislead him whenever possible, and for this reason smokeless powder, torpedoes, disappearing guns, &c., have come into use, false attacks are considered admissible, and every advantage is taken of cover and entrenchments. The only “cover” possible in naval warfare is beneath the waves, and it is difficult to see any greater inhumanity in submarine than in military mining, which certainly dates from very early times. If it is lawful to sap and mine before a fortified town, and to blow up an army as it marches unsuspectingly over “mined” ground, it is surely permissible to send ships sky-high by mines and to sink them by torpedoes.

Mr. A. F. Yarrow has remarked that it seemed strange that an artilleryman behind ten or twenty feet of earthwork, hurling explosive shells at an almost unseen foe, should be held as fighting fairly, while in the case of the torpedoist, who has the pluck to accompany his missile to within a short distance of his enemy, it should be considered an unfair mode of attack.

Yet so it is, and we find in a recent number of the Engineer^[1] that submarine warfare is placed on a par with guerilla warfare and train-wrecking. “The torpedoing of a single German ironclad by a submarine would almost certainly be followed by a refusal to recognise submarines as belligerents.”

1. Engineer, October 1, 1901.

The question of the laws and usages of civilised warfare has been the subject of many books and articles, and conferences have been called to endeavour to arrive at some understanding on the subject. An International Conference on the “Usages of War,” held at Brussels in 1874 at the instance of Alexander II., considered among other things, “the means of injuring an enemy,” and suggested the prohibition of the use of poison and poisoned weapons, murder by treachery, and murder of a disarmed enemy, projectiles causing unnecessary suffering, and prohibited by the declaration of St. Petersburg in 1818; “ruses de guerre” were, however, declared permissible.

In connection with the Boer War it is interesting to note that differences arose at this Conference between the representatives of the large States possessing great standing armies, and of the minor States with small armies. The former thought that war should be the business of professional trained soldiers, that they, and as a rule they alone, should fight, that war should follow a regular course, and that the worthlessness, from a military point of view, of the sporadic efforts of partisan warfare should be recognised, and that when a battle was won and the seat of Government was in the possession of an invader the inhabitants should respect the conquerors as the de facto and de jure Government. If they interrupted communications and cut off isolated bodies of troops they were to be dealt with not as honourable combatants, but as assassins and marauders.

The “Geneva Convention” met at Geneva on August 8, 1864, and on the 22nd of the same month an International Code was adopted by all civilised powers, except the United States. The code mainly concerned itself with the succour of the wounded in time of war, and certain cruel methods of warfare, such as the use of explosive bullets, were condemned, Great Britain agreeing not to use such weapons in war against civilised nations.

The Peace Conference at the Hague was opened on May 18, 1899. Of the eight proposals submitted for discussion, the second was the prohibition of the use of new arms and explosives, the third the restriction of the use of existing explosives and the prohibition of projectiles and explosives from balloons, and the fourth the prohibition of submarine torpedo boats, and the agreement not to construct boats with rams in the future.

The final act embodying the results of the Conference contained three declarations. 1. Prohibition of the throwing of projectiles and explosives from balloons or any other analogous means. This prohibition to be in force for five years. 2. Prohibition of projectiles intended solely to diffuse asphyxiating or deleterious gases. 3. Prohibition of the use of bullets which expand easily in the human body.

It may be noted that Great Britain did not bind herself to accept any of these three declarations.

“The laws of war,” wrote Montague Bernard, “are nothing at all but the usages according to which warfare by land and sea is carried on, and the collection of the whole body of usages represents what we call the laws of war.... The student of history is apt to be a little puzzled by frequent reference to ‘laws’ with which he is tacitly assumed to be familiar. What are these laws? Where are they written? What authority do they command? They are a body of usages, for the most part conditional, which have arisen principally from motives of convenience and the extension of commerce.”

It is of course recognised that the only force which supports international law is the appeal to the conscience of the nation, for there is no international tribunal to punish countries for deeds committed in time of war. While it is unlikely that the rough game of war ever will be played (it certainly never has been in the past) in exact conformity with the rules of the jurists, there are certain methods of waging war which England would not employ, and certain acts which she would not commit in the event of hostilities breaking out between herself and a civilised country.

She would not use explosive bullets. She would not fire on undefended towns, and would endeavour to avoid the destruction of non-combatants and their property. She would not poison wells, she would not endeavour to accomplish the assassination of a commander-in-chief, she would not abuse a flag of truce, she would not murder prisoners who behaved themselves, and put to death those who surrendered.

On the other hand, she would consider herself at perfect liberty to employ submarine boats, torpedoes, and mines, both military and naval; to discharge shells filled with high explosives, whether lyddite, melinite, or other substance, from aerial machines; to intercept the enemy’s messages and to mislead him by sending false ones; to commence hostilities without issuing a declaration of war;^[2] to fire on, and if necessary sink, the merchant ships of the enemy; to starve a garrisoned town; to erect wire entanglements and similar obstructions; to offer wrecking lights as navigation lights; and to employ any “stratagem” or “ruse de guerre” which might serve some useful end. With regard to stratagems, it appears to be quite proper to disguise ships and men, and to use false signals, false colours, and neutral flags, though a British naval officer would probably not fire into his enemy before hauling down his neutral or false colours.

2. The Romans considered that no war could be just unless it was preceded by a formal declaration.

Vice-Admiral Rodney M. Lloyd pointed out in a recent letter to the Times that while in naval warfare all stratagems were admitted, expected, and provided against, in military operations, on the contrary, some acts of a similar kind appeared to be objected to. The Boers, for instance, frequently disguised themselves in British khaki uniforms, and endeavoured to delude sentries and guards.

Some writers refer to this as “the abuse of the khaki uniform” and “the treacherous use of the khaki uniform,” but if such things are permitted in naval operations it is difficult to see why they should be considered immoral if practised on land.

Apropos it may be mentioned that during some Russian naval manoeuvres the admiral’s ship was destroyed by the following trick. A party of volunteers from other squadrons came alongside the cruiser Africa, the flagship, in a Finnish coasting smack, and one of the volunteers, dressed as a peasant, came on board with a telegram. Whilst the attention of the Africa’s crew was diverted the other volunteers fastened a small buoy with the inscription, “Frigate Prince Pojarsky,” under the stern of the flagship.

BENEATH THE WAVES.

Of course there is a very thin line which separates what is considered fair and what is considered unfair warfare among civilised communities. Lord Dunsany said that he was not perfectly sure that there could not be something said in favour of poisoning wells. “We have heard something about poisoning the air. The French some time ago had what they called bullets asphyxiants. These would have utterly poisoned a whole ship’s crew. If these missiles may be used, then it comes to this: that it is lawful to poison the air, but not lawful to poison the water.”

Lyddite shells seem rather to resemble these bullets asphyxiants, for their stench is reported to be terribly stupefying to those in the immediate neighbourhood when they burst. But whereas explosive shells fired from guns are considered “legitimate,” shells fired from rifles are regarded as “illegitimate.”

Respecting the question of poisoning wells, Colonel Lonsdale Hale has remarked that so long as this was done openly, and the fact notified in some way to those who would use them, there seemed to be nothing more to be said against this forbidden practice than against the permitted practice of depriving the enemy of good water supply by filling in wells and by cutting off the good water, as the Germans did at Metz and Paris, and reducing their enemy’s water supply to the sewage-receiving Moselle and Seine. If it was permissible to starve one’s enemy by denying him solid food, it seemed to him equally permissible to starve him by denying him liquid food.

Wolff and Bynkerhoeck, two of the originators of international law, thought the use of poison in warfare perfectly legitimate. Vattel considered the practice interdicted by the law of nature which did not allow of the multiplying the evils of war beyond all bounds. To get the better of the enemy he must be struck, and if once disabled, what necessity, he asked, was there that he should eventually die of wounds.

Opinion also differs as to the morality of attacking undefended towns and injuring the property of non-combatants during a war.

The late Admiral Aube, when he was head of the French Admiralty, said the proper way of bringing this country to order was to burn Brighton and Scarborough and a few other places; and Admiral Sir J. C. Dalrymple Hay, Bart., has remarked that he could not say he thought that he was wrong. According to the latter, the object of each side is to do the greatest possible destruction to the enemy, and also to make him cave in; the whole of the country is engaged in war, they pay taxes for the war, they encourage their soldiers and sailors to fight courageously, they suffer for the war in various ways and they urge it on; and they must expect to suffer accordingly.

Humanitarians affirm that in actual war soldiers and sailors of the Dalrymple Hay school would be too human to act up to their expressed opinions; the probability is that England would only resort to such measures if the enemy were determined to employ them. Vice-Admiral Bourgois, in his book “Les Torpilleurs,” made a strong protest against the doctrines of those who advocated the bombardment of undefended towns and the sinking without warning of defenceless merchant ships. He urged that the nationality of the vessel should first be verified, and then provision made for the crew and passengers.

Apart from the “Hague enthusiasts” who are for prohibiting the employment of high explosives, aerial torpedoes, and submarine torpedo boats, there is another class of humanitarians who urge the adoption of all new and deadly engines of warfare, apparently with the idea that if war is made sufficiently terrible no nation would dare fight another. “The more terrible the anticipation of naval war,” says a writer, “as fashion and science continue the contest, the less likely will be its realisation.”

The late M. Bloch, as we know, considered war to be tactically, strategically, economically, and morally impossible, but as he assured us also in his book, “Is War Impossible?” that bayonets were quite out of date, one may be forgiven for not paying much heed to his lucubrations.

Admiral Porter, of the U.S. Navy, considered that if war was made so dangerous that every combatant would to a certainty be killed, then there would be an end of the business and the Peace Society could put up their shutters.

The newspapers, especially the halfpenny ones, are constantly informing us of the discovery of new engines of warfare of terrible potency. Mr. Tesla is going to wipe out the British Fleet by simply touching a button on his waistcoat or elsewhere. Mr. Hudson Maxim has devised a method of throwing aerial torpedoes carrying each of them one ton of high explosive which is so efficacious that one cruiser lying just out of range of our guns would destroy all our battleships with the greatest ease. Dr. Barton is building an airship which will throw explosives on the enemy below, who will be powerless to retaliate, and so on.

The wars of the future, so the halfpenny journalists inform us, will be either waged under the seas or above the clouds, and we seem to be approaching the time imagined by Lord Tennyson, whose swain (in “Locksley Hall”)—

“Heard the heavens filled with shouting, and there rain’d a ghastly dew

From the nations’ airy navies grappling in the central blue.”

If wars ever die out, it will certainly not be owing to the destructive capabilities of the weapons employed. In the eyes of old Geoffrey de Vinesauf the naval conflicts of his time were as terrible as he could well imagine them to be, but a hundred years hence a Conference will doubtless be held at Tokyo to consider what restrictions should be placed on the use of submarine boats and aerial machines in time of war.

Those who are in favour of utilising the latest resources of science for the purpose of warfare are in reality more humane in the truest sense of the word than those who seek to limit nations in their choice of weapons. Vice-Admiral Sir John Fisher, who was one of those chosen to represent Great Britain at the Hague Conference, expressed himself strongly on the cruelty of making war on “humane” or moderate principles, and it is an undoubted fact that in spite of the deadly nature of modern arms, wars, on land at least, are not so destructive of life nor do they cause so much misery and suffering as they did formerly.

We can speak with more certainty with regard to warfare on land than we can to warfare on sea, but though the next great naval fight between two nations will certainly entail terrible suffering on the combatants (especially on those whose stations are below), it may be said that on the whole they will neither cause such wholesale misery nor be so protracted as the naval battles of old.

“Every war,” said Captain Herbert in a recent lecture at the Royal United Service Institution on “The Ethics of Warfare,” “marks a step. In 1885 the Servians, when they invaded Bulgaria, paid conscientiously in good coin for every fowl or pig seized in farmhouses, for every glass of brandy drunk in village inns; and when the tables were turned, and the Bulgarians invaded Servia, the Bulgarian soldiers and the Servian traders fraternised most cordially in the alehouses of Pirot. To come to the latest European war—that between Turkey and Greece in 1897—we have the testimony of the war correspondents that the behaviour of the Ottoman soldiery was quite exemplary. If things continue in this wise we shall perchance hear in the next century of every rifle discharge being preceded by a conciliatory caution and every bursted shell being followed by a humble apology.”

Dr. J. Macdonell, in a recent lecture, has touched on this subject. “It must be owned,” he says, “that the progress in mitigating the evils of war have been immense—that acts of useless violence which were once habitual are now exceptional, and are punished or condemned by military opinion. Ask those who say, ‘Things are much as they were: the grim realities of war no better than before,’ to note the matter-of-fact way Comines de Hoissard relates cruelties as the necessary accompaniments of warfare; then compare with such passages some of the many handbooks published by European Governments for the use of their troops. It has been truly said that the difference between the methods of the Thirty Years’ War and of the War of the Spanish Succession is the difference between darkness and twilight; the difference between warfare as understood by Tilly and Pappenheim and that described in modern official Manuals is the difference between light and darkness. Everywhere is recognised that only effective injuries are justifiable. The modern soldier strikes hard, he doesn’t mutilate or destroy for the love of destruction.”

The Rev. Edmund Warre has drawn a vivid picture of the wretched plight of the slaves labouring at the oars, who suffered intense discomfort and were in continual danger.

“In a hot climate, with but very little ventilation, it must have been exceedingly trying to take part in a laborious mechanical toil with perhaps some hundred or two of human beings stark naked and packed so closely that there was not room, as Cicero says, for even one man more. The heat, the smells, the toil must have been terrible to any one undergoing it against his will—so terrible as to suggest that even death itself were better than such drudgery. A dull dead feeling of despair must have crept over man and crew in such a case, and though the lash might keep them going under ordinary circumstances, such spirits could not be relied upon in times of emergency, Besides the question of discomfort, the actual danger was very great. The crews were liable at any moment to be drowned or burnt, or, in the case of defeat, butchered by the victors—perhaps, as at Sybota, deliberately in cold blood. Conceive the moment of conflict and its horrors, when the sharp-pointed beak came crashing through the timbers, smashing them right and left along with the helpless mass of human beings, while the water followed swift upon the blow, perhaps just giving time to the Thranites (the rowers on the topmost of the three benches in the Trireme, who had the most work and the longest oars) to swarm up upon the deck, while the helpless Thalamites (the rowers on the lowest bench) were drowned at once.”

Science, although she is continually placing man in possession of weapons more terrible and more destructive than those of the previous generation, really acts for the good of humanity at large, who owe a debt of gratitude to the mechanical geniuses who have evolved modes of warfare which enable war to be waged with as little unpleasantness as possible to the peaceful populations that have no concern with it.

In one respect at least modern warfare is certainly more humane than that of olden times, and this is in the treatment of the wounded and the captured. In ancient warfare the fate of the captive was death or slavery, and in early battles no quarter was given, except to personages of great distinction, and the object of both sides was to slay as many of their opponents as possible, and as surrender only made the prisoner the perquisite of his captor, the fighting was both bloody and fierce. Even as late as 1780 a prisoner was still viewed as the property of the victor, and there was a regular scale or tariff of payments.

One instance culled from an account of a battle between Christians and Turks, written by Geoffrey de Vinesauf, must suffice.

“Drawing the hostile galley with them to the shore the victors exposed it to be destroyed by our people of both sexes who met it on land. Then our women seized and dragged the Turks by the hair, beheading them and treating them with every indignity and savagely stabbing them, and the weaker their hands so much the more protracted were the pains of death to the vanquished, for they cut off their heads not with swords but with knives.”

Dr. Macdonell has pointed out that the only notable survival of barbarism in respect to captives was the rule—abrogated apparently in some countries but retained by us for reasons never satisfactorily explained—that the crews of pirate vessels captured at sea were treated as prisoners of war.

In the next great fight on the seas, if a submarine boat should be hit by the quick-firing guns of a battleship she is endeavouring to destroy, her crew, provided they are not sunk like rats in a trap, will be picked up by the ironclad’s boats and kept as prisoners of war till hostilities are at an end.

We are reminded of some lines in Mr. Kipling’s poem, “Kitchener’s School”—

“They terribly carpet the earth with dead, and before their cannon cool

They walk unarmed by twos and threes and call the living to school.”

Those who argue in favour of the suppression of under-water warfare have pointed out that whereas the battleship can save the crew of the torpedo vessel, the latter owing to her small size can only steam away, sending the big ship to the bottom, and leave the unfortunate crew to drown or save themselves as best they can, which, with shell and shot flying about, would not be easy. A way out of the difficulty has not been found yet.

What then is the conclusion of the whole matter? It is this. Since the object of war is peace, make war as deadly as possible; since your goal is complete conquest, use all efforts to get it over as quickly as possible. We cannot do better than quote the following remarks made by a speaker during the discussion on Lord Dunsany’s lecture, above referred to.

“In conclusion I would say, save us from the cruel mercies of the weak. War—that splendid mistress for whose favours we have all longed since we reached man’s estate—must be given her full attributes and painted in her most deadly colours in order that the misery, which undoubtedly she brings to the majority of the population, may extend over as short a period as possible. Let us make her as deadly as we can, in the name of humanity and of every good feeling.”

CHAPTER IV
THE MECHANISM OF THE SUBMARINE, AND SUBMARINES OF THE FUTURE

Mr. H. G. Wells, in his “Anticipations,” confesses that his imagination, in spite even of spurring, refuses to see any sort of submarine doing anything but suffocate its crew and founder at sea. “It must involve physical inconvenience of the most demoralising sort simply to be in one for any length of time.... You may of course throw out a torpedo or so with as much chance of hitting vitally as you would have if you were blindfolded, turned round three times and told to fire revolver-shots at a charging elephant.... Given a derelict ironclad on a still night within sight of land, a carefully handled submarine might succeed in groping its way to it and destroying it; but then it would be much better to attack such a vessel and capture it boldly with a few desperate men on a tug. At the utmost, the submarine will be used in narrow waters, in rivers, or to fluster or destroy ships in harbour, or with poor-spirited crews—that is to say, it will simply be an added power in the hands of the nation that is predominant at sea. And even then, it can be merely destructive, while a sane and high-spirited fighter will always be dissatisfied if, with an undisputable superiority of force, he fails to take.”

INTERIOR OF THE FIRST BRITISH SUBMARINES (NOS. I.–V.).

We are afraid that Mr. Wells has not taken the trouble to keep himself in touch with the latest developments of submarine navigation. As we write, news comes from America of a party who spent fifteen hours under water in the Fulton without suffering any inconvenience. This does not look much like the “suffocation” Mr. Wells anticipates. As to torpedo-firing, French and American boats whilst under way have made excellent practice, both at stationary and at moving targets; while in making the assertion that the submarine will be used in narrow waters, in rivers or in harbours, it is evident that Mr. Wells is unaware of the lengthy voyages made by some of the newest boats.

The David represented the best type of under-water vessel in the sixties; that she is infinitely inferior to the newest Holland type or some of the French vessels of to-day goes without saying, and it will not be surprising if the submarine of thirty years hence bears the same resemblance to the Holland, as the Holland does to the David.

The ideal submarine boat has a speed as great as that of the fastest torpedo-boat, a very wide radius of action, excellent sea-keeping powers, unlimited quantities of air for power and for respiration by the crew; a means of directing its course by vision upon a moving object whilst itself remaining invisible beneath the surface, and is very habitable and comfortable for long periods of time.

The submarine of to-day lacks most of these attributes. It has a slow rate of speed, whether on the surface or submerged, a narrow radius of action, poor sea-keeping powers, a strictly limited quantity of compressed air, and is absolutely blind when beneath the waves. Thus it differs greatly from the ideal boat as sketched above, but its gradual improvement may be safely predicted.

We propose in this chapter to describe, in simple language, the working of a vessel intended for under-water navigation, and to consider what improvements are likely to take place.

Every submarine boat worked by a crew must of necessity be capable of floating on the surface of the water. This is a self-evident proposition, for the crew must have means of ingress and egress, and the only practical way of entering and leaving the boat is by an opening in the hull when she is on the surface.

We have no doubt that the files of the Patent Office would show that many inventors had designed boats which would sink to a certain depth directly they were placed in the water. While in such a system no time is lost in submersion, there would undeniably be difficulties in the way of coming to the surface, &c.

The first problem, then, which confronts the designer of a submarine boat is to find the most suitable method of sinking it to the depth at which it is intended to navigate.

The most fundamental law of hydrostatics, which applies to all floating bodies, and is equally true of wholly submerged vessels floating at any depth, as of ships of ordinary form, floating on the surface, having only a portion of their volume immersed, is that a ship floating freely and at rest in still water must displace a volume of water having a weight equal to her own weight.

The “displacement” of a vessel is defined as the weight of water displaced, which is equal to the weight of the vessel and that of her lading. A ship floating on the surface “displaces” a certain weight of water; in order to force her beneath the surface two methods are open.

In the first place, her weight is increased by the introduction of water ballast; thus her “displacement” is altered and she sinks until her weight is again equal to the volume of water displaced.

In the second, the weight of the boat remains constant, but the displacement is altered by the drawing in of “cylinders” or “drums;” thus she sinks until her displacement again equals her weight.

The first inventor to employ the latter method was AndrÉ Constantin, who built a vessel during the siege of Paris, which was furnished with pistons working in two cylinders; on these being drawn in from the interior the boat sank to the required depth. The actual trials were, however, not satisfactory. The Nautilus, of Messrs. Campbell & Ash, which underwent some trials in Tilbury Docks in 1888, depended also on the pulling in of cylinders (ten were employed, five on each side of the vessel), for her submersion; the results were equally discouraging, and some eminent men nearly lost their lives owing to the erratic behaviour of this craft.

THE SUBMARINE OF ANDRÉ CONSTANTIN.
(1874.)

No serious ship-constructor would nowadays think of adopting this method of submersion, and we may therefore pass on to consider those which are brought to the submerged condition by the admission of water into special reservoirs or tanks.

Submarine boats so far as their immersion is concerned may be divided into two classes.

1. Those which when submerged possess no floatability.

2. Those which in the same condition possess a small reserve buoyancy or floatability.

Modern submarines almost without exception belong to the second division, as this class has been found to possess great advantages over the first.

1. Submarines with no Floatability when Submerged.

“GOUBET II.”

Boats belonging to this division possess when submerged a total weight equal to the weight of water displaced. During immersion it has been found necessary to make the weight of the vessel and its contents slightly exceed the weight of water displaced by the total volume of the vessel; this excess of weight causes a downward motion which rapidly accelerates unless checked, and care must be taken to regulate, either automatically or otherwise, the depth, lest the vessel sink to a depth where the pressure is greater than she can withstand.

M. GOUBET ABOUT TO GO UNDER WATER IN HIS BOAT.

Although M. Goubet is a believer in the “no-floatability” idea, it has, for some time past, been regarded with disfavour. Theoretically it is possible to navigate a submarine whose total weight equals the weight of water displaced so that she keeps at a given level without rising or sinking, but the system will not work satisfactorily when put to severe and prolonged tests. It is found to be impossible to obtain perfect equality between the two weights: submarine currents, variations of atmospheric pressure and temperature, and movements inside the boat all tending to disturb its equilibrium.

2. Submarines Possessing Floatability when submerged.

Mr. Nordenfelt realised the superiority of submarines possessing a reserve buoyancy when submerged over those which possessed no buoyancy and all the most important of latter-day submarines fall under this division.

It is quite obvious that should any accident happen, such as the entry of water, the failure of the machinery, the asphyxiation of the crew (rendering the detaching of a false keel impossible), &c., the submarine with a reserve buoyancy would at once rise to the surface, while the boat with no floatability would remain where it was and then gradually commence to sink, owing to the fact that it is almost impossible to prevent the water from finding its way, little by little, into the boat.

Submarines which possess floatability when submerged have a weight which is less than their displacement and some mechanical action must be resorted to to force them below the surface. The first operation consists in introducing a certain amount of water into the tanks so that the boat is brought to the “awash” condition, with the greater part of the hull below water and only the conning tower, &c., appearing above the waves. The complete submersion of the vessel may be attained in two ways: either screws on vertical shafts are employed to “screw” the vessel below the surface, whether at rest or whilst moving; or horizontal rudders, or planes, are used to steer the boat below the surface; this latter method is only applicable to moving vessels.^[3]

3. A system of moving weights was employed by Drzewiecki and other inventors.

Immersion by Screws Mounted on a vertical Shaft.

Just as a ship is driven backwards and forwards in the horizontal plane by means of a screw or screws mounted on a horizontal shaft, so it is possible to drive a ship up and down the vertical plane by means of one or more screws immersed in the water and mounted on a vertical shaft; the boat is by this method literally “screwed down” into the liquid.

The principle of the vertical screw was adopted by Bushnell who, in the description of his submarine vessel, writes: “At the top there was likewise an oar for ascending and descending or continuing at any particular depth.... When the skilful operator had obtained an equilibrium (by means of the forcing pumps) he could row upwards and downwards or continue at any particular depth with an oar placed near the top of the vessel, formed upon the principle of the screw, the axis of the oar entering the vessel. By turning the oar one way he raised the vessel, by turning it in the other he depressed it.”

PROFESSOR TUCK’S SUBMARINE.
(1884.)

M. Gaget remarks that “it is very strange that Bushnell should have discovered and concealed with so much care the instrument of propulsion which Sauvage studied and introduced fifty years later.” The fact is, of course, that the principle of the screw-propeller was known in the seventeenth century and that in May, 1785, Joseph Bramah patented a screw-propeller, identical in general arrangement with those in use to-day. The first practical use of the screw was made by John Stevens, who in 1804 launched a steamboat eighteen feet long by fourteen feet beam with a direct acting high-pressure engine having a tubular boiler—and driving a screw with four blades. Although the principle of the screw for ship propulsion was thus recognised at this early period it was not till the thirties (of the nineteenth century) that the screw-propeller succeeded in attracting the attention of the engineering world.

Professor Tuck in his boat (1884) placed the propeller directly beneath the centre of the hull, so that it should submerge on an even keel.

Mr. Nordenfelt used vertical screws, which at first he fitted in side sponsons, but afterwards in the fore and aft line, and considered it absolutely essential that a diving boat should be kept horizontal when being submerged, as any inclination downwards with the impetus of a heavy boat would, he considered, almost to a certainty carry the boat below its safe depth, before it could be effectually counteracted by shifting weights. Such a theory was soon shown to be founded on a misapprehension.

Some inventors (Waddington, Baker, &c.) have used four screws operating in pits equidistant from the centre of the boat, two on the upper part and two on the under part, but all such methods have been discarded in the newest designs.

Immersion by Horizontal Rudders.

The ordinary vertical rudder steers the ship either to port or starboard in the horizontal plane, and the horizontal rudder can be used similarly to control its position in the vertical plane.

This method of steering a boat beneath the surface by the inclination of horizontal rudders is, of course, only applicable when the boat is moving.

The position that the horizontal rudder or rudders should occupy is a question about which much has been written, and opinion appears to be still divided on the subject. Some hold that they should be placed at the stern, others that they should be placed on either side of the vessel, and these latter again differ as to whether they should be forward, amidship, or aft. In spite of all the arguments in favour of placing the rudders forward, Captain Hovgaard considers that this disposition can hardly be recommended except in very long boats where it may prove a necessity. The Gustave ZÉdÉ has six diving rudders, two forward, two in the centre, and two aft; whilst in the Narval class there are four rudders, two forward and two aft; the Holland submarines have aft rudders only.

Control in the Vertical Plane.

That beautiful machine, the Whitehead torpedo, is maintained at a set depth below the surface by means of a pendulum and a hydrostatic valve which regulate the horizontal rudders, and also in its true course by the gyroscope. In the case of the submarine it is necessary that it should not pass a certain limit when on its downward course, and that it keep so far as is possible the same level throughout its run under water.

The control of the submarine in the vertical plane may be accomplished by the manipulation of the rudders, either automatically, by means of some such arrangement as the hydrostatic valve or pendulum, or by hand, and she can be kept on an even keel and prevented from rising to the surface or sinking to the bottom, when running beneath the waves, by the pumping of water from a reservoir situated aft to one situated forward, or vice versÂ, by the admission of water into trimming tanks, by shifting weights, &c. These operations can be carried out either automatically or by hand-operated mechanism.

It will be readily understood that while it is a comparatively simple matter to force a vessel beneath the surface to a depth previously determined, it is not so easy to ensure its keeping at this depth during the whole time it is submerged and maintaining throughout the run a perfectly even keel.

One of the greatest difficulties the inventor of submarine boats has to overcome is their lack of longitudinal stability. Submerged vessels are of two classes, those which are equal in weight to the water they displace, and those which are lighter. Both classes are subject to various disturbances which tend to upset their longitudinal stability and send them up to the surface and down towards the bottom. In Chapter XV. mention is made of the difficulties experienced by those who had to navigate the Nordenfelt.

The principal causes of disturbance have been summed up by Captain Hovgaard in a paper entitled, “The Motion of Submarine Boats in the Vertical Plane,” read before the Institution of Naval Architects at the Annual Meeting in 1901.

1. Faulty use of horizontal rudder. 2. Admission of water through leakages. 3. Expulsion of foul air and products of combustion. 3a. Firing of torpedoes and projectiles. 4. Movements of crew. 5. Existence of free surfaces of liquid. 6. Movements of loose weights, such as fuel. 7. Variations of buoyancy caused by varying density of sea water. 8. Grounding and collision. 9. Variations in speed.

Some of the most important of these disturbances may be briefly discussed.

1. Most modern submarines are provided with more than one pair of horizontal rudders, but if all the rudders should refuse to act and the boat is running down an inclined plane, the only thing to be done is to pump the water out of the tanks and thus bring the boat to the surface.

2. By the careful construction of the hull, and by strict control of all sea-valves, the admission of water may be prevented. If the boat is stove in and water enters in any quantity, she will inevitably sink. As an escape some inventors have provided their submarines with detachable boats.

3. Usually the length of the run under water will not be so great that the foul air will need to be got rid of. If necessary it can be expelled by drawing on the store of compressed air, and as the substances withdrawn will always be small, no change in longitudinal balance need be feared if precautions are taken. As all modern submarines are driven by electricity beneath the surface, the expulsion of products of combustion need not be considered.

3a. In the earliest submarine boats the torpedoes consisted of charges of explosive in cases, which were attached to the outside of the vessel to be attacked, or were towed against her sides.

Those who had little faith in the future of under-water warfare declared that a torpedo could never be fired from a tube in a submerged vessel without disastrous effects. The Nordenfelt boats were certainly not successful in discharging torpedoes, for as a general rule they as nearly as possible stood up vertically on their tails and proceeded to plunge to the bottom stern first on these occasions.

However, since then, submarines have fired torpedoes quite satisfactorily under water.

The expulsion of a torpedo from a vessel totally submerged in the water, whether equal to or less than the weight to the water displaced, naturally reduces her weight and tends to send her up towards the surface. This tendency can best be counteracted by the admission of a certain quantity of water ballast into the boat.

The method now usually followed is to allow the surrounding water to enter the tube immediately after the launch of the torpedo, and as the weight of the volume of water admitted will be about equal to that of the missile ejected, the longitudinal stability of the submarine should not be disturbed. When the second torpedo comes to be placed in the tube, the volume of water already in it must of necessity be ejected, and a compensating reservoir may be used to receive it. As each torpedo is fired a certain amount of water, corresponding to the weight of the projectile, must be allowed to enter the compensating reservoir. This may be done automatically.

The Engineer in a leader on January 18, 1901, said: “The discharge of a bow torpedo (by a submarine) would be instantly followed by the rise of the bow; relieved of the weight the boat would tend to stand on end. If going ahead at the time she would immediately come to the surface to be destroyed. If going astern she would plunge downwards and the consequences might be equally serious.... Torpedoes must be fired when the submarine is at rest.”

In spite of this dogma submarines have fired torpedoes whilst in motion with success, and in modern submarines ample provision is made for the loss of weight occasioned by the discharge of the torpedo.

4. Reference has been made to the fact that when the Nordenfelt boat was moving along on an even keel, and a greaser walked forward a couple of feet in his engine room, her head would go down a little, the water would surge forward in the tanks, and she would plunge to the bottom, unless checked in time. It has been said that one man going forward in a submarine boat would cause her to dive to a depth of thirty-six feet in one minute. The movements of the crew may be compensated for by automatic arrangements, but the ideal method would be one in which every one remained immovable at his post during the submerged run.

Steering Below Water.

Quite early in the history of submarine navigation it was found that the compass was not so reliable when the boat was navigating under water as it was when she was on the surface. This is not to be wondered at, for the compass of a submarine is placed in the interior of a tightly-closed metallic shell and in close proximity to an electro-motor and powerful currents capable of influencing it considerably, if not of rendering it altogether useless.

The principal causes of the unreliability of the compass on a submerged boat are:—

1. The currents normally produced by the electric motor.

2. The abnormal currents flowing in certain unknown parts of the hull owing to lack of proper insulation.

3. The permanent or transitory magnetisation of the hull if made of a magnetic metal.

The best position for the compass on a submarine has been a much debated point, but it is now generally agreed to be in the centre of the hull. The conning tower of the first British submarine was made of steel, but it was afterwards replaced by one of brass.

M. M. Gaget in his book^[4] states that so entirely untrustworthy and impracticable has steering by compass in French submarines been found, that the gyroscope has been requisitioned. He inclines to the belief that this instrument is the best indicator of route that has yet been devised, yet he points out the want of some reliable method by which the distance made by a submerged boat could be gauged with accuracy.

4. “La Navigation Sous-Marin.”

Motive Power.

The question of the best method of propulsion for submarine boats must be considered under two heads, namely, propulsion on the surface and below the water.

It will be quite evident that the conditions under which a motor in a submarine works differ according as the boat is running above or beneath the surface; and we arrive at the conclusion that if the same motor is to serve for both conditions special arrangements will have to be made to permit it to work under abnormal conditions. Should this be found impracticable a new method of propulsion will have to be found for under-water travelling.

Every heat engine consumes both air and fuel (whether coal, oil, gas, &c.), and the process of absorption of the fuel is accompanied by the giving out of a certain weight of the substance in the form of gas. Whilst the boat is proceeding beneath the water its weight is continually being modified, and it is practically impossible to compensate for this change by the addition of water to the reservoirs. Besides this difficulty the combustion of the fuel not only absorbs a large quantity of the air which is so precious a quantity in a submerged vessel, but also sets free deleterious gases which naturally have prejudicial effects on the health of the crew. It may therefore be asserted that a submarine can only be propelled under water by means of a motor capable of working without combustion or loss of weight. It remains therefore to discover the most suitable method fulfilling these conditions.

1. By Mechanical Means such as Clockwork, Springs, &c.—The Howell torpedo is driven by means of a heavy flywheel in the interior which is spun up to 10,000 revolutions a minute before discharging by means of special machinery. While all these methods are practicable they must be put aside as unsuitable owing to the slowness of the speed which a boat thus propelled can attain.

2. Compressed Air.—In order that a submarine may be driven at a high rate of speed for a considerable distance, such a large store of compressed air would have to be carried if this method were adopted, that little space would be left in the vessel for any other purposes. In addition to this such a store of compressed air would be a source of danger.

3. Manual Power.—The earliest submarines were of course driven by hand power, but no one nowadays would think of adopting this method.

4. Steam from Heated Water.—Mr. Nordenfelt propelled his boats beneath the surface by means of the steam given off by the heated water in the cisterns, and this was found sufficient for a distance run of 14 knots. He disliked accumulators, and this is not to be wondered at, for in his time they were very far from perfect; were he designing a submarine to-day, however, it is probable that he would choose electricity for sub-surface working.

5. Chemical Engines.—Dr. Payerne, d’Allest, and others, by means of a chaudiÈre pyrotechnique, burnt, in hermetically closed furnaces, combustibles containing in themselves the oxygen necessary for their combustion, and got rid of the products of combustion by ingenious devices.

6. Electricity.—All modern submarines rely on an electric motor for under-water propulsion, the current being derived from accumulators. The ideal primary battery and the ideal accumulator are still to seek, but the latter improves yearly, and there is little doubt that some few years hence the current available will enable the submarine to make long voyages under water with greatly increased speed. It is said that the Holland has on no fewer than four occasions burned up the armature of her motor, and some device seems to be wanted to keep the armature cool.

7. Carbonic Acid.—Many attempts have been made to construct an engine which can be worked by liquid carbonic acid, but the general result, as some one has said, has hitherto been that the inventors have been more or less broken up in body and mind.

8. Liquid Air has been suggested as a propelling agent for submarines, but up till now it has not been applied for such a purpose. A motor-car propelled by liquid atmospheric air was shown at the Agricultural Hall in April last, and some energetic Americans are endeavouring to “boom” this elusive substance in this country. More sober investigators have, however, little faith in an immediate commercial future for liquid air.

Propulsion of the Surface.

While the “Holland” boats for the British and United States navies are driven on the surface by a gasoline engine, this type of motor has not yet been used on the French boats, a steam engine fed with liquid fuel being employed in the Narval and vessels of this class, while in the Gustave ZÉdÉ, Morse, &c., electricity is the sole motive power both above and below the waves. Le Yacht states that France has always avoided the use of gasoline owing to the danger which arises from its presence on board submarine craft.

(a) The Steam Engine.—In the Nordenfelt boat steam was raised, when running on the surface, by the burning of coal, but of late the advances that have been made by the employment of liquid fuel have led to the employment of this combustible for submarine boat propulsion in preference to coal.

The great drawback at present to the use of the steam engine is the length of time necessary for the unshipping of the chimney, the cooling of the engines, &c.

(b) The Oil Engine.—At the present time there is no oil motor in existence of sufficient power to give even moderate speed to a large boat, but the ingenuity of the engineer will probably overcome this drawback.

Those who make the dogmatic assertion that the submarine boat cannot be very fast because she cannot be endowed with much power, remind one of the wiseacres who were so convinced that steamboats would never replace sailing-vessels, nor steam locomotives the horse-drawn coach.

“The power required to impel a vessel through the water is augmented by her submergence. If 5,000 1–h.p. are required to drive a displacement of 120 tons at 28 knots, then rather more power will be required to drive 120 tons wholly submerged at the same speed.”

This statement appeared in the Engineer in the early part of 1901, but it appears that an exactly opposite opinion is held by many eminent authorities. For instance, at the discussion which followed the reading of Mr. Nordenfelt’s paper on Submarine Boats at the Royal United Service Institution in 1886, Mr. Anderson, C.E., stated that it was well known through the late Mr. Froude’s investigation that a fish-shaped vessel under water was in much more favourable circumstances for obtaining high speed than any vessel on the surface of the water, because it had been established theoretically that a vessel of easy lines completely submarine met with no resistance at all except the skin friction of the water, no resistance, that was to say, such as that which arose from the bow wave.

Mr. Anderson went on to say that he believed that if Mr. Nordenfelt would apply a little more ingenuity and perseverance to the perfecting of his boat, the result would be the attainment of a very high speed under water, and consequently a most formidable vessel. Mr. Nordenfelt himself said that it was absolutely proved that the speed below for a given consumption of fuel for a given boat must be greater than the speed above, and Mr. J. J. Thornycroft recently explained to an interviewer that the resistance is less for a completely submerged body than one travelling on the surface, because no waves are created. “The water that is displaced in front,” he said, “simply closes in behind and helps to push the body forward. A boat moving on the surface throws out waves in front and on either side, and that means an absolute loss of energy. You will find that for this reason a ‘Whitehead’ torpedo travels faster under the water than on the surface.”^[5]

The armament of the boats designed by Bushnell and Fulton was a case of explosive; the armament of the David that sank the Housatonic was a spar-torpedo, but the armament of all modern submarines is the automobile fish torpedo. Mr. Holland in his earlier designs provided his boats with guns, but submarine cannon firing heavy shells have since been discarded.

In the new British submarines one torpedo expulsion tube is fitted at the extreme forward end of the vessel, opening outward 2 feet below the light water-line. Five Whitehead torpedoes, each 11 feet 8 inches long, are carried.

Safety and Habitability.

It may safely be said that no difficulty will be found in getting sailors to form the crew of a submarine boat in time of war. Great Britain, the United States, France, and other great naval Powers have only to call, and hundreds of brave fellows will volunteer, however great the odds against which they may have to fight. This being the case, our naval constructors must see to it that every precaution is taken to make the boats as safe and as habitable as possible.

The accidents to which a submarine is subject are many. The most serious is passing the safe limit of depth. If she descends beneath this limit the pressure will increase; her hull will be battered in; she will diminish in volume; her downward course will be rapidly accentuated, and there must inevitably follow the crushing in of the boat and the death of the crew.

For every boat there is a limiting depth, beyond which she must not go. While it is quite possible to construct a boat strong enough to resist the pressure at depths of 50 fathoms and over, it will not be necessary to go deeper than 5 to 6 fathoms, or enough to clear the keel of a big ship. Still it will be well to give the boat a hull capable of resisting pressures greater than those she will normally encounter. By means of a hydrostatic valve or some similar arrangement, the submarine may be kept from diving to too great depths.

It is said that the “Goubet” boats can withstand the pressure at a depth of about 5,000 feet, or very nearly a mile beneath the surface; the “Holland” boats can navigate with safety at 150 feet, a depth quite sufficient for all practical purposes.

The French submersible Silure was recently sunk to a depth of 134½ feet, and it was found that the hull was compressed to the extent of 1–25th of an inch. No inconvenience was felt by the crew greater than that experienced at a depth of 20 feet.

Submarines possessing floatability have the power of rising to the surface should any accident happen to the motive power, steering gear, machinery, &c., and automatic arrangements are provided for working the horizontal rudders in order to keep the boat on an even keel. Some accident might, however, cause the boat to begin to sink, and the advisability of the submarine carrying a false bottom or detachable keel has been pointed out, as this could be dropped in an emergency, causing the vessel to rise at once to the surface.

The vessel Le Plongeur carried a detachable boat, and Captain Hovgaard in his design also supplied such a boat. It was made to stand the same pressure as the submarine itself, and rested on a saddle-shaped packing, against which it was tightly pressed down by means of a number of clips. Inside the packing was a circular door in the boat and a corresponding and smaller one in the ship arranged in such a way that it was possible to get up into the boat, close the lower lid in the ship, and then the lid in the boat. This done, all the handles of the clips were turned and the water would probably enter the space inside the packing, and if not it might be made to do so through a small pipe leading from the outside to the space, and provided with a stopcock. The boat would now have a certain buoyancy, but would hang on in two main clips, placed one at each end of the detachable boat on mechanical connection with each other so that they could only be let go both at the same time, thereby preventing jamming. When these clips were opened the boat would ascend to the surface; communication with the vessel, if somebody should be left behind, might be kept up by telephonic connection.

M. Goubet, M. Drzewiecki, and other inventors provided their vessels with means for being propelled by the crew, working either oars or pedals, in the event of the machinery failing to act.

Respiration, or breathing, is a part of the life of all organisms, whether animal or vegetable. Air is taken into the lungs; the oxygen is absorbed, while the carbonic acid is given back again to the atmosphere. The respiration of human beings or animals in closed chambers to which the air is denied access is not possible beyond a certain period. The oxygen is sooner or later, according to the size of the chamber, used up, and the air becomes so vitiated with the carbonic acid expelled by the lungs that the vital functions of the body are arrested.

Many of the earlier submarine boats carried no reserve of air, as the time that they were intended to remain under water was not long.

Reference is made in old writings to the “chymicall liquor” supposed to have been used by Cornelius Drebbel to restore the purity of the air in his under-water vessel, but what its composition was we shall never know.

The air required for respiration in a submarine vessel may be supplied in two ways.

1. By some chemical method which purifies and regenerates the vitiated air.

2. By compressed air or oxygen carried in special reservoirs.

3. By pipes leading down from the surface to the submerged vessel through which fresh air is drawn and the foul air expelled.

4. By the return of the boat to the surface and the taking in of a fresh supply of air.

Such substances as caustic soda, lime, bromide of magnesium, &c., are capable of absorbing carbonic acid, and have been used, but modern submarine vessels rely on compressed-air compartments. M. Calmette, in his account of his voyage under water in the Morse, says that thanks to the labours of a commission formed by M. de Lanessan the difficulty of respiration has been satisfactorily overcome, with the result that the crew can remain for sixteen hours under water without the slightest strain. This may refer to the discovery by M. Georges Jaubert of a chemical substance of comparatively light weight which in one single operation can not only completely remove from vitiated air the carbonic acid, water vapour, and other non-respirable products, but can also automatically restore to it in exchange the exact mathematical quantity of oxygen which it lacks. In other words the substance when placed in contact with air vitiated by respiration can completely regenerate it and restore to it its original qualities. This wonderful substance, the composition of which has not yet been made public, has been the subject of some communications by Dr. Laborde to the Paris Academy of Sciences. In these it is mentioned that experiments were being made under the auspices of the Minister of Marine, and that these had proved that with 3 to 4 kilos of this new product it was possible for a man to live for twenty-four hours in an hermetically closed chamber.

Vision When Submerged.

When completely submerged the submarine boat is practically blind, and it is impossible to steer it by direct vision through the water. However slow its course the steersman would be unable to stop it before an obstacle which rose suddenly into the restricted circle of his aquatic vision, and he is therefore obliged to steer his course by means of bearings taken before descending.

At one time inventors believed that some light would come down through the water to help the steersman, but it is now acknowledged that once below the surface the boat is in impenetrable darkness. Some have proposed the use of a powerful electric projector which would emit a beam of light sufficient to light up a path 50 to 60 metres long in front of the submarine.

Unfortunately such an arrangement is not possible in practice. In the first place, such a projector would be of great size and weight and would require a considerable amount of current, but even if it were installed on a submarine it would be of no use to those on board for the reason that they would be placed immediately behind it and would be able to distinguish nothing owing to the great glare. The projector’s light would also be likely to betray the position of the submarine owing to the rays finding their way to the surface.

A submarine boat when navigating as an ordinary torpedo-boat on the surface or in the “awash” condition can be steered from a cupola or conning tower fitted with windows, which is affixed to the top of the hull, and which remains above the water when the hull is below.

It was asserted that such a cupola would not only be of no use beneath the waves, but would also be a disturbing element in the equilibrium of the boat, reducing its speed. For this reason the Gymnote and the Gustave ZÉdÉ were provided with telescopic domes capable of being pushed up or down at will. The arrangement was very complicated, and did not give good results, so it was abandoned, and all modern submarines carry a fixed dome on their deck platform.

When the submarine is submerged to a depth not greater than 10 to 12 feet such aids to vision as the optical tube and the periscope may be employed, but when the depth exceeds this limit the helmsman must rely on his compass, coming from time to time to the surface to verify, and, if necessary, rectify his route.

The periscope (from the Greek pe??, around, and s??pe??, look) is applied to an instrument by which objects in a horizontal view may be seen through a vertical tube. It may be said to consist of a vertical tube with a lenticular total-reflection prism at the top by which horizontal rays are projected downward through the tube and brought to a focus, after which they are received by a lens, the principal focus of which coincides with that point. The vertical cylindrical beam thus formed is converted into a horizontal one again by a mirror inclined at 45° from the vertical axis of the tube, and is thus conveyed to an eyepiece through which, by turning the tube on its vertical axis with its attached prism, a view of all the supernatant objects around the vessel may be obtained. A screen or diaphragm operated by a tangent screw is used to cut off the view of the vertical plane in which the sun is. When used on a submarine boat the top of the periscope floats on the surface.

The optical tube with which the Gustave ZÉdÉ was at first provided before she carried a periscope consisted of a lens and a prism on the top of a tube, and the image of the surface was thrown on to a surface of paper. By the aid of the picture on the sheet of white paper the steersman could, under certain circumstances, tell approximately where he was going.

A writer in a recent number of the Debats has something to say about vision below water.

“We certainly possess these vessels capable of navigating under water, which is no small advantage, but in order that they may be able to fight under these conditions and become really effective fighting machines the question of vision will have to be perfectly solved. The Moniteur de la Marine affirms that the periscope, the apparatus intended to secure this power of vision, perfectly fulfils its object. It gives, six metres under water, a good enough view of what is going on upon the surface to enable a boat to steer towards the enemy’s vessel without the necessity of rising to the surface to make observations which quick-firing guns would render dangerous. No less an assertion than this is necessary to shake certain doubts on this point which will be shared by all who have been in a position to observe the troubles caused to the vision by the water and vapour on ground glasses. Only those who have used this instrument have the right to say with Polycente, ‘Je vois, je sais, je crois, je suis illuminÉ.’

“We who have not seen cannot go so far as this. It is also necessary that the images given by the periscope should be susceptible of rapid measurement, sufficiently accurate for the officer in command to be able to know if he is near enough for his torpedo to prove effective.

“In a word, the Sous-Marin and the Submersible are at present marvels of applied mechanics. They will be fighting machines only when the problems of vision and accurate measurement of distances are fully solved. If this result is reached we shall not long be kept in the dark, for with modern parliamentary methods all over the world we shall witness the simultaneous appearance in all naval budgets of demands for considerable sums in order to construct these vessels.”

A device for submarine vision, termed the cleptoscope, and invented by Messrs. Russo and Laurenti, is reported to be used on the Italian submarine Delfino. In its original form the instrument, according to the Lega Navale, gave an exact view in a closed chamber of all that was to be seen round about a submarine to any one applying his eye to a small eyepiece. In its later form it gives the same image much enlarged, and visible to both eyes at once at some distance from the chamber.

As an illustration of the disadvantages arising from the fact that the submarine is blind, the following story may be told, the accuracy of which cannot however be vouched for.

An Italian submarine went out on one occasion for practice. All at once the crew found that they could neither go ahead nor astern, nor could they rise to the surface. They pumped out the spare water that was provided to give additional buoyancy, but with no effect. The heavy lead keel provided for an emergency was at last detached; still the boat refused to rise, and the crew gave themselves up for lost.

The Port-guardship was riding in the anchorage, and fortunately her captain heard a scraping and knocking which could not be accounted for at the bottom of his ship. It occurred to him at last to signal to the station on shore asking if the submarine boat was out for practice, and on being told it was, he shifted his anchorage, whereupon the submarine boat came to the surface with a rush like a cork, and the crew were rescued in a very exhausted condition.

The optical instrument used on the new British submarines is termed the “Hyphydroscope,” and is the invention of Sir Howard Grubb, F.R.S.

“The Torpedo has brought into the Navy a fresh zest, a new romance, and possibilities more daring than were ever existent before its adoption.”

“A blending of the heroic, the marvellous, the mysterious, and the imaginative in actions, manners, ideas, language or literature; tendency of mind to dwell upon or give expression to the heroic, the marvellous, the mysterious or the imaginative.”

Such is one of the definitions given in the “Century Dictionary” for the word “romance,” and as in the following pages there will be much of “the heroic, the marvellous and the mysterious,” there is every justification for using the term in connection with under-water warfare.

Some months since the writer was standing on the pier at Kyle of Loch Alsh, a tiny village in South-west Rosshire, waiting for the boat going south to Oban.

The sky was leaden, and ever and again a squall swept over from Skye and blotted out the landscape for a time. Presently a little shiver of excitement ran through the group of tourists, fisher folk, and idlers gathered at the pier head. All eyes were directed up Loch Alsh, and for a few minutes it was difficult to discover what it was that was attracting so much attention.

Gradually there came into sight the first of a little flotilla of torpedo boats, making their way, in single column, line ahead, to the open sea. Each was painted black from bow to stern, each bore a number in place of a name, and each crept along like a snake, surprised at finding itself observed, and anxious to escape from the haunts of men. One by one they passed by, gathering speed as they went, and in a little while the last had disappeared into the mist and the rain and nothing remained to show that they had passed save a few white patches of foam scattered over the sullen waters.

What were the thoughts uppermost in the minds of those who watched these tiny engines of destruction? Were they not of the next occasion on which Great Britain shall require her navy to assume the offensive and “to take arms” against the foe that dares to threaten her proud supremacy?

Were they not of the fate of the crews of these vessels in the next great battle on the seas, and of the part they will be destined to play when the “Real Thing” comes?

The torpedo boats and the destroyers of His Majesty’s Navy are manned by brave and fearless officers and men, who take a keen interest in their work and who mean to show of what their ships are capable if ever they get the chance, while the torpedo lieutenant on a battleship, in spite of the good-humoured sneers of his brother in arms, the gunnery lieutenant, is not a whit less determined to inflict some injury with the weapon which is his especial care. The commander of a destroyer when he lies down at night in his “duffle suit” and endeavours to take his well-earned repose dreams of a naval action in which he plays a prominent part. It is a night attack, and the destroyers have orders to seek the enemy and torpedo him. As silently, and withal as speedily as possible, the mosquito fleet starts on its deadly mission. The pace is tremendous and our commander, his nerves braced, his heart beating, and his mouth set, peers forth from the conning tower into the darkness. His funnels are flaming slightly but he dare not slacken speed, and all he can do is to pray Heaven that they do not betray him. Suddenly the foremost ship begins to signal. The quarry is discovered! Onward rush the destroyers, and out to meet them come the destroyers of the enemy. The twelve-pounders and the six-pounders are brought into play, and the fight between the opposing forces waxes fierce. So far our commander and his craft have escaped injury and the boat tears along, dodging its foes like a three-quarter in Rugby football. He has set his heart on torpedoing a mighty ironclad steaming ahead with her consorts at some sixteen knots speed, and he means to get past the hostile destroyers or die in the attempt. Shells are bursting all around and his armoured conning tower has been hit, but so far luck has favoured him. Will the gods be kind and allow him to accomplish his desire? He is now within torpedo range, and the moment has arrived for the firing of the first torpedo. Out of its tube rushes the Whitehead, plunges beneath the waves and is seen no more. A few anxious seconds and then the commander knows that it has missed its prey. Another must be fired, but the ironclad is unpleasantly near, and her quick-firing guns are already discharging on him a heavy and continuous fire.

The second torpedo is fired, and the destroyer waits not another second but makes away at topmost speed. But “her mission is through.” The sound of a mighty explosion is heard and the commander knows that he has accounted for one of the battleships of the enemy.

The lieutenant of to-day thanks his stars for the opportunities that the torpedo has afforded him of assuming the command of a torpedo-boat or a destroyer at an early age, or of acting as torpedo lieutenant on a big ship. There is no fear of his rusting or of his finding his life uneventful while such posts as these are open to him, and there is also the chance of his acquiring great fame when the day of battle comes.

“... They are young,” says Mr. Rudyard Kipling, “on the destroyers,—the chattering black decks are no place for the middle aged—they have learned how to handle 200 feet of shod death that cover a mile in two minutes, turn in their own length, and leap to racing speed almost before a man knows he has signalled the engine room. In these craft they risk the extreme perils of the sea and make experiments of a kind that would not read well in print. It would take much to astonish them when, at the completion of their command, they are shifted say to a racing cruiser. They have been within spitting distance of collision and bumping distance of the bottom; they have tested their craft in long-drawn channel jobs, not grudgingly or of necessity because they could not find harbour, but because they ‘wanted to know, don’t you know,’ and in the embroilment have been very literally thrown together with their men. This makes for hardiness, coolness of head, and, above all, resource.”

There is yet another dream that is dreamed by the younger of our young naval lieutenants, and this relates to an engagement in which the diving torpedo-boat plays a part.

Great Britain is at war with a rival Power; hostilities have barely commenced, and one of the enemy’s swiftest cruisers has been sent to gather information as to the probable movements of the British squadron. Her captain is noted for his daring and resource, and he has succeeded in obtaining news of a valuable character respecting the condition of our ships and their immediate destination. Accompanied by two first-class torpedo-boats, he has come, has seen, and is now making off to join his fleet and to relate his news to the Admiral. It is of the utmost importance that his message should not be delivered; the British fleet is not quite ready to strike, and it does not wish the enemy to know this. Onward steams the cruiser, the fastest vessel of her class in the world. It is broad daylight, and she can be seen by our own cruisers who, unhappily, are half a knot slower than she is. British destroyers have attempted to torpedo her as she steams quickly by, but her quick-firing guns and her attendant torpedo craft have so far foiled their purpose and the daylight is against them.

There is only one chance—the submarine flotilla.

It is lying off a port which the cruiser must soon pass on her way down channel, and a wireless message which the cruiser is powerless to intercept has been sent to the commander of the “mother ship,” a torpedo gunboat, to send out his tiny fleet and endeavour to torpedo the cruiser. The “catcher” has no chance herself against the enemy’s swift torpedo-boats, so she keeps in the background ready to render assistance to her “ducklings” should they happen to require it.

The cruiser and her attendants is sighted, and the order to dive is at once given. In a few moments there is nothing to be seen of the five boats, and the look-out on the cruiser is in blissful ignorance of his hidden foes. Suddenly Submarine No. 1 comes to the surface to take bearings. She is observed by the look-out, the quick-firers are immediately trained on her, and the torpedo-boats, with booms slung out, rush to the attack. But she has disappeared before they can reach her, and no one has any idea which direction she has taken. The excitement is intense. The hearts of the cruiser’s captain and crew beat fast, and eager eyes scan the face of the waters for any sign of the submarines, but there is nothing to be seen. All at once a lieutenant on the cruiser gazing down into the water shouts to his captain. He has seen a submarine missile, but it is too late! The torpedo strikes, an explosion ensues, and the cruiser’s fate is sealed. Her satellites dart hither and thither like policemen in chase of a burglar, but their prey has eluded them and is now making off to fort. The commander of the submarine flotilla has done his work well. After coming momentarily to the surface he dived below and by wireless telegraphy communicated to the other vessels the position of the cruiser, her speed and her direction: calculations were made, and at a given signal all five discharged their torpedoes. Four missed, but one was more fortunate and was enough to encompass the destruction of the enemy. After the explosion the commander threw his tiny periscope on the surface and as a glance assured him that the cruiser would float no more, he made off with his boats to the shelter of port.

The two destroyers did not escape; hunting for the submarines they forgot to consider the possibility of an attack on themselves, and it was only when they saw four British destroyers at no great distance that they sought refuge in flight. But they had delayed too long. The four point sevens had something to say to them, their own three-pounders were quickly silenced, and they were soon drifting about channel, hopeless wrecks.

CHAPTER VI
THE MORAL INFLUENCE OF UNDER-WATER WARFARE

“I think that the enthusiasm with which in some countries, the studies and the building of submarine boats have been accompanied is in great part due to the feeling implanted in human nature, by which danger appears the greater in proportion as it is more mysteriously and insidiously able to threaten the existence of its adversaries” (Rear-Admiral Bettolo, in “All the World’s Fighting Ships,” 1901).

It was once said that the principal value of all methods of submarine warfare was analogous to that of the notice board which tells the would-be burglar to “Beware of the dog.”

In the face of a warning such as this the burglar is forced to take a rapid survey of the situation. In the first place, he cannot tell whether there really is any dog on the premises at all, and secondly he has no means of discovering whether the animal, if there be one, is old, blind, or decrepit and thus worthy of being disregarded. Which is his best plan? to take his chance and trust to luck or leave the place severely alone and look out for some other establishment where no such notice meets his eye?

Some burglars might take one course and some another, according to their individual temperament, but at any rate the warning serves this purpose, that it causes the would-be house-breaker to pause before he commits his crime, even if it does not act as a complete deterrent.

What the notice board is to the burglar, the mine, the torpedo, or the submarine boat is to the naval officer, and in laying his plans he must take into consideration the possibility of being blown up by one or other of these methods of under-water attack. “The King’s Navee” has no lack of brave men ready to risk their lives at a moment’s notice, and a British officer if told to accomplish any task would as soon think of replying that there were mines, torpedo-boats, and submarines in the path of his advance as he would of going into action in a frock coat and a silk hat.

He will undertake his task cheerfully and instantly, and he knows he can rely on the support of his crew, but at the same time it is impossible both for captain and crew to disregard absolutely the unseen dangers that may lie in their way.

Though this will not prevent a British warship from going wherever it is bid, yet the knowledge that they may at any moment be sent to the bottom by the explosion of a submarine mine or by the blow of a Whitehead torpedo, must of necessity make them nervous and will very likely have a bad influence on their powers of shooting straight. “The presence of mines,” says a naval writer, “has a moral effect upon crews which does not altogether improve their shooting.”

So great has been the recent improvement in the matÉriel of under-water warfare that we have no chance of gauging accurately its potential effect from a moral point of view. The mines, torpedoes, and submarines hitherto employed in naval engagements are excessively crude when compared with their modern equivalents, and the countries which have used them have not been those most skilled in the practice of such weapons. There is, however, sufficient evidence both from naval wars and also from mimic battles to show that the mine, the torpedo and the submarine will exercise a considerable moral influence when the next great fight on the seas takes place.

There have been those who have declared that those who handle such weapons will be far more subject to moral and indeed physical effect than those against whom they are directed, and though this may be true of certain navies it is certainly not true of the British.

It would be possible to quote many instances, both of cases in which submarine defences have prevented the carrying out of certain operations and also of other cases where they have been disregarded. Just as there have been audacious burglaries in spite of “Beware of the dog” notices, so there have been daring attacks in spite of known submarine defences. There is always in warfare the possibility that the mine may fail to act at the critical moment, that the torpedo may not succeed in firing its mark and that the submarine boat may miss its prey.

The first occasion on which the moral influence of modern under-water methods of warfare made itself felt was during the American Civil War.

The story of Admiral Farragut’s entrance into Mobile Bay, on August 5, 1864, is a well-known instance of a commander advancing in spite of known dangers beneath the waves. It has been admirably told in the life of the Admiral by Captain A. T. Mahan. The channel was known to be sown with mines and one of his ships, the Tecumseh, had been sent to the bottom already by one of these unseen weapons. The Admiral reasoned thus: “The chances are that I shall lose some of my vessels by torpedoes or the guns of the enemy, but with some of my fleet afloat I shall eventually be successful. I cannot lose all. I will attack regardless of consequences and never turn back.” As the Hartford passed the Brooklyn a warning cry came from the latter that there were torpedoes ahead.

“Damn the torpedoes!” shouted the Admiral in the exaltation of his high purpose. “Four bells! Captain Drayton, go ahead. Jouett, full speed!” The Hartford and her consort crossed the line about 500 yards from Mobile Point, well to the westward of the buoy and of the spot where the Tecumseh had gone down. As they passed between the buoys the cases of the torpedoes were heard by many on board knocking against the copper of the bottom, and many of the primers snapped audibly, but no torpedo exploded.

The Hartford went safely through, the gates of Mobile Bay were forced, and as Farragut’s flag cleared the obstructions his last and hardest battle was virtually won.

Mines had been plentifully sown by the Confederates, and across the deep water 180 had been placed in a double line. The most effective were those made of lager beer kegs coated with pitch and fitted with a number of sensitive primers; the others had tin or iron covers, but they corroded in the water and quickly became harmless. In addition, there were three electro-contact mines which were to be exploded from Fort Morgan. Had the mines been in an efficient state Admiral Farragut and his fleet would assuredly have gone to the bottom. He took the risk—and won.

Turning now to the other side of the picture it will be found that hidden enemies are always the most dreaded, and that the history of naval operations affords many examples of their moral influence hindering the carrying out of certain operations.

In the actions off Charleston, in the American Civil War, the mines and obstructions so influenced Admiral Dupont that he was content to maintain the blockade instead of risking his ships against them.

One of the clearest cases of the moral influence of submarine mines occurred during the Franco-Prussian War, when the French fleet were prevented from entering Prussian harbours simply through fear of submarine dangers. The naval campaign of 1870 consisted solely of the watching by a strong French squadron of North German ships which had taken refuge behind a reputed impassable barrier of subaqueous defences.

“The power of the French steamships,” writes Admiral Cyprian Bridge, “to stand in within practicable range of their heavy guns, and do enormous mischief to the rising naval establishment of the Bund as it then was, was completely set at nought by the subaqueous defensive system which the weaker force had devised to redress the inequality between it and its rival. We shall do well to mark the results; the stronger navy did and could do practically nothing; the smaller one preserved itself from injuries, and at the close of the war still existed intact, as a nucleus for that splendid force, which is now (October, 1878) third amongst the navies of the world.”

During the Franco-German war the French fleet was kept off a fort by a harbour protected by dummy mines. The story goes, that when the mines arrived, the burgomaster was afraid to charge them, and laid them out empty. At the completion of the war, when the dummies were taken up, the burgomaster was congratulated by several consuls on the masterly way in which he had performed his perilous task, no loss of life having been caused.

There are so many instances of mines failing to explode or if exploding, doing no damage, that naval officers may well declare that the submarine mine is nothing but a “military bugbear.” In 1863, during the American Civil War, the New Ironsides halted off Fort Sumner, and just over a submarine mine containing 2,000 lbs. of powder, which failed to explode when fired from the battery, as one of the wires had been accidentally severed by a waggon passing over it.

Instances of the moral influences of the torpedo are afforded by the two most recent naval wars, the Chino-Japanese and the Spanish-American, and by the manoeuvres of the fleets of Great Britain, France, Germany, and Russia.

Although the Chinese officers were quite unable to use the torpedo with any effect, and evidently regarded the weapon as of more potential danger to themselves than to the enemy, the Japanese commanders on more than one occasion decided against certain movements, owing to a fear of the Chinese torpedo flotilla.

During the Spanish-American war, the Americans suffered severely from “torpedoites,” and were continually fancying they saw Spanish torpedo-boats, and firing on them, when in reality there were none present.

As an American officer remarked, “whatever the actual shortcomings of a torpedo-boat flotilla, it must always act at least as an admirable anti-soporific.” As to the Spaniards they appeared to dread the mines they had themselves laid more than did the Americans.

One of the most amusing cases of the moral influences of torpedo warfare was related by Vice-Admiral Sir Nowell Salmon at the Royal United Service Institution in 1892.

Sir Nowell was discussing the question of the value of the electric searchlight on battleships in warding off torpedo attack. He was inclined to think that he would rather not have it at all, for on any occasion that he had seen, whether it had been at a fixed station on shore or whether it had been a fixed station on board, making a quadrangle within which ships might lie, the torpedo station had always been the point of attack, and had always suffered. In one case in which he put a squadron inside four ships to make a path of light round them, the ships showing the light were of course at once the point of attack, and were all attacked and sunk; one commander indeed said that he was sunk no less than seven times.

“I can remember a little incident in which I took part. It shows how very curiously the electric light may act in some cases. The squadron inside the rectangle of light was in total darkness, and my boat in which I was inspecting the preparations happened to get within the beam of one of the ships showing the light. Just as this happened, I saw a boat inshore of me. I thought she was one of the attacking boats steaming up inshore. Of course I set to work to cut her off, as I was commanding the defending squadron. I steamed as hard as ever I could. I got my muskets ready and so on. Still she went past me, going inshore as I thought, and it was not until I recognised my own shadow shaking its fist at the engineer for not clapping on more steam, that I found I was chasing the shadow of my own boat thrown on the cliff. In a very few seconds I should have been hard and fast ashore.”

“The real strength of the destroyer,” wrote a special correspondent with the British fleet during the 1901 manoeuvres, “consists not so much in what she can do against large ships, certainly not in what she ever has done so far, but in the fear entertained by her adversaries of the harm she is held to be capable of doing. Her menace is tremendous, and really paralysing to some minds.” This probably applies quite as much to submarines as to destroyers.

Once, and only once, has a submarine boat succeeded in inflicting any damage on an enemy in actual warfare. This was during the American Civil War when one of the Confederate Davids succeeded in blowing up the Federal frigate Housatonic, and in annihilating itself at the same time.

Before this event under-water vessels had attempted to destroy hostile craft, but with no success.

In 1776 Bushnell’s diving torpedo-boat made an attack on the English frigate Eagle, and in 1777 on the English man-of-war Cerberus and other vessels. Although it failed to inflict any injury on a single vessel, three of the crew of a prize schooner astern of the Cerberus, hauling one of Bushnell’s drifting torpedoes on board, were killed by the explosion.

In 1801 Fulton attempted to destroy one of the English Channel Fleet off Boulogne by means of his drifting torpedoes, but owing to the ship altering her position at the moment of setting the torpedo adrift, the attack failed. In 1804–5, Fulton, who had now joined the British forces, attacked some of the French ships, but the torpedoes exploded harmlessly. From the death of Fulton to the commencement of the American Civil War, numerous inventive minds built or projected submarine craft of all shapes and sizes, but none of these ever participated in an actual engagement.

The exploits of the diving torpedo-boats known by the generic name of David, during the contest between the Federals and the Confederates, have been fully described in Chapter XII., and there is therefore no need to dwell further on this period in the history of under-water warfare. Since then no submarine boat has ever been taken into battle, although during the Spanish-American war Spain might have used the Peral, and the United States the Holland. In mimic warfare submarines have played their part, and although no very definite conclusions respecting their possible value in time of war can be drawn from their performances in peace manoeuvres, still it may not be unprofitable briefly to note the various occasions on which some of the new submarine torpedo-boats have been used.

The first of these occasions was in September, 1900, during the manoeuvres of the U.S. North Atlantic Squadron off Newport, Rhode Island, when the Holland made an attack upon the fleet by herself, without convoy, at a distance of seven miles out from the mouth of the harbour, and, with her own crew alone in her, torpedoed the flagship of the squadron, the Kearsarge, commanded by Capt. Wm. M. Folger. Lieut. Caldwell, who commanded the Holland on this occasion, wrote regarding the incident:—

“The Holland was not seen by any vessel of the blockading fleet or torpedo-boat, although she was within torpedo range of three of the former and several of the latter. I consider the attack was a success because the Holland could in all probability have torpedoed three blockading vessels without being discovered.”

It must be added that Admiral O’Neil, who has but a poor opinion of the value of submarines in war, has written as follows: “.... On September 25, 1900, during some manoeuvres of the North Atlantic Fleet off Newport, Rhode Island, the Holland, on a very fine evening and under exceptionally favourable circumstances, steamed seven miles as a surface boat only outside Newport harbour, and like the torpedo-boat Porter, claims to have put the battleship Kearsarge out of action, which was not allowed by the umpire, as it was decided that the Kearsarge had already been put out of action by the torpedo-boat Dahlgren.”

Since this exploit of the Holland, no American submarine has taken part in manoeuvres with the fleet.

From 1898 onwards French under-water vessels have often engaged in mimic warfare, and many of the French papers have published glowing accounts of their wonderful performances, but one has to accept such statements with caution. In the following story of their doings care has been taken so far as possible to represent what really took place.

The torpedoing of the Magenta in December, 1898, by the Gustave ZÉdÉ is a famous chapter in the history of French submarines, and one of which all Frenchmen are naturally proud.

M. Lockroy in his book “La DÉfense Navale” has recorded the incident.

The manoeuvre commenced at 3.17 in the afternoon, and the torpedo was fired at 3.28. The Gustave ZÉdÉ plunged at 3.20 for the first time; she emerged five times, and the longest appearance was 1 min. 30 secs., the shortest 30 secs.

The three cruisers, Magenta, Neptune, and Marceau, knew the exact moment when the attack would take place, and also the exact position of the Gustave ZÉdÉ, yet though they trained their quick-firing guns upon the submarine, the judges decided that she would not have been hit.

M. Lockroy says that if the boat had carried her optical arrangements she would not have needed to come to the surface.

“The eyes of all on board were fixed on the sea; officers and men stood watching the crest of the waves, and every minute there were exclamations, or some one fancied he had seen the submarine. We imagined we saw it everywhere, and it was nowhere.

“In point of fact it was proceeding quietly and invisibly towards its mark.

“Suddenly a precise and exact observation was made. The cupola of the Gustave ZÉdÉ had just appeared 400 yards away, still abreast of us, notwithstanding the distance which we had covered.

“Immediately orders were issued. The guns were brought to bear upon her, and the quick-firers depressed in her direction. The submarine was no longer there. She was hidden from our fire and from our view. A minute elapsed. Though orders were given to the engineers to put on steam, and the Magenta had gone some considerable distance in the sixty seconds, the Admiral and I, leaning over the railing of the bridge, saw approaching us with lightning speed an elongated body shining like gold.

“It was the torpedo of the Gustave ZÉdÉ! It struck the ship about four yards below the water-line, and was smashed on the iron armour, but if it had been charged the Magenta would have been sunk.”

The Majenta was twice successfully torpedoed, once while at anchor and once whilst steaming at ten knots, and the Gustave ZÉdÉ showed that it was quite possible for a submarine to discharge torpedoes below the water without having its equilibrium disturbed.

To accomplish the second of these feats the vessel came five times to the surface to take bearings, but on no occasion was her conning tower in view for more than 1½ minutes. The last time just before discharging her torpedo the conning tower was only seen for 30 seconds. The torpedo struck the battleship on the port side just forward of the bow barbette.

After her trial the submarine proceeded unaided from Toulon to Marseilles, a distance of 41 miles in a rough sea at 6 knots, thus showing her sea-going qualities.

When Englishmen took up their morning papers on July 5, 1901, there met the gaze such headings as “Submarine’s great feat;” “How the Gustave ZÉdÉ torpedoed a big battleship;” “New Naval Warfare;” “French Navy the most powerful in the world.”

The Paris correspondent of the Daily Express sent the following telegram to his journal:—

“The feat performed in Ajaccio Harbour by the submarine Gustave ZÉdÉ in hitting the great battleship JaurÉguiberry with a dummy torpedo without her approach being even suspected, has produced a deep impression in naval circles. That the act was a brilliant piece of seamanship and gunnery tactics now admits of no question, though full details are not yet forthcoming. The facts, according to the concurring testimony of the Paris journals, are shortly these: The Mediterranean division of Admiral Gervais’ great fleet, which is under Admiral de Maigret, and has its headquarters at Algiers, had put into Ajaccio to provision, and yesterday morning steamed from the harbour in three lines, the torpedo-boat flotilla leading, then the cruisers, and the two battleships Charles Martel and the JaurÉguiberry in rear. All the other ships had got well under way, and the JaurÉguiberry had just moved from her moorings, when she was struck by a dummy torpedo by an invisible enemy. Instantly the quick-firing machine guns were set to sweep the sea, and signals sent the torpedo flotilla scouring in all directions to search for the mysterious foe. The chase being quite fruitless, the division finally steamed away, and then, the coast being clear, there popped up to the surface, like a dark spectre from the nether world, the submarine Gustave ZÉdÉ. Vice-Admiral Menard, who commands the Northern Squadron, with headquarters at Toulon, hearing that his adversary was provisioning at Ajaccio, had despatched the submarine from Toulon on Tuesday night on the mission which was to put the efficacy of submarines in practical warfare to a supreme test. The sequel shows that she had accomplished her voyage, taken her observations, gone under water, and after allowing the whole division to pass, had struck with unerring aim, and with complete success, at the most formidable vessel in it. This perfect mastery of the position shown by the submarine constitutes the most striking part of the achievement, which can only be minimised by assuming on the part of the Mediterranean squadron a degree of carelessness difficult to understand, considering that the order had been given to act in all things as in real war. After every deduction has been made, however, there is no disputing the fact that the submarine has proved its tremendous possibilities in warfare. In consequence of this success of the Gustave ZÉdÉ the French are suffering from a bad attack of naval fever. Some would call it ‘tÊte montÉe.’ ‘Where is Britain’s naval supremacy now?’ is a question which was often asked to-day. ‘C’est magnifique!’ say the papers, describing France’s submarine fleet. ‘By reason of her submarine division the navy of France is the most dread and powerful in the world.’”

The enthusiasm of the French was somewhat lessened by the subsequent accounts of the exploits of the submarine. It appeared that it was the battleship Charles Martel which received the Gustave ZÉdÉ’s torpedo, and that the latter, after her feat, crossed the bows of the JaurÉguiberry so closely that the last named had to turn in her whole length to avoid colliding with the submarine, which in war would have been destroyed. It was also stated that the success of the Gustave ZÉdÉ was considerably minimised by the fact that Ajaccio was an “inviolate” port and that the enemy had no necessity to keep a sharp look-out when they knew themselves to be in absolute security, that the Gustave ZÉdÉ belonged to the same side as her “victim,” and that the manoeuvres did not commence officially until Wednesday night, whereas the incident in question took place on Wednesday morning.

Certain cynical folk declared that the whole business was a stage-managed affair designed to gratify the popular affection the French had for the submarine, and to justify the naval department which had exploited the engine of war. The majority of the French papers, however, made the most of the Gustave ZÉdÉ’s “splendid accomplishment,” and seemed to imagine that the British Admiralty were terror-stricken at the notion of what French submarines would be able to accomplish in war.

The Patrie published an interview a correspondent had at Toulon with Lieutenant Jobart, who was in command of the Gustave ZÉdÉ. The officer stated that the enemy were perfectly well aware of the departure of the Gustave ZÉdÉ from Toulon in tow of the tug Utile. As Ajaccio was neared, Lieutenant Jobart dismissed the Utile, and lay on the surface of the ocean waiting for the appearance of the enemy. He soon saw two cruisers leave their anchorage, and he sank his vessel until they had passed out of sight. On coming again to the surface, he saw that the battleships were still at anchor, so he crept nearer, only sinking when he saw the big vessels moving, and after he had taken his bearings for an attack on the Charles Martel, and when the battleship passed over the Gustave ZÉdÉ, the torpedo was fired which struck the vessel, and thus warned the Fleet that a submarine was in the harbour. The lieutenant asserts that none of the look-out men on the warship observed him, but when the torpedo had been fired he rose to the surface, whereupon two shots were fired from the Fleet, and he sank at once, remaining below the surface until the last vessel of the Fleet was out of the harbour, and the submarine was beyond range. The Journal stated that Admiral Gervais had indirectly warned the squadron of the participation of the Gustave ZÉdÉ by recommending it to act as if threatened by an attack of submarines.

The Paris correspondent of the Times wrote as follows:—

“What will be the result of these exercises it is impossible at present to foresee, but meanwhile an event of singular, and one might even add, of grave suggestiveness has occurred—of a character, indeed, which may render these manoeuvres historic. I refer to an exploit of the Gustave ZÉdÉ, which suddenly turned up in the port of Ajaccio, unheralded but safe and sound, and so completely in fighting trim, in spite of the long voyage from Toulon, that she dared even to torpedo the battleship JaurÉguiberry as the latter was leaving her moorings. The unexpected arrival of the submarine created consternation. She had passed nearly the whole day at sea out of sight of land. She left Toulon in company with a tug, and may for a time have utilised the assistance thus furnished in order to economise her store of electricity. But she arrived, at all events, quite alone at Ajaccio with enough electricity at her disposal to torpedo one of the enemy’s vessels, escaped from the torpedo-boats which she surprised in her daring exploit, and again disappearing below the surface, returned without being detected to port. She entered the bay of Ajaccio completely submerged, sighted by none of the signal-stations, and was thus able to traverse the entire line of war vessels in the bay. This feat is regarded as conclusive as to the practical utility of the French submarine. It sets one speculating on the revolution which the invention of these submarine craft may, after all, make in naval warfare, in spite of incredulous over-Channel critics.”

The Temps somewhat detracts from the glory of the performance by pointing out that the Gustave ZÉdÉ was towed most of the way from Toulon, but added that there could be no two opinions as to the value of the subsequent success. The fleet had no suspicion of what had happened until the JaurÉguiberry was struck by the torpedo. Even then it was a mystery, as the destroyers dashed hither and thither, seeking in vain for the hidden foe. When they had returned, baffled and perplexed, the submarine rose to the surface and steamed slowly alongside the great battleship, whose crew lined the sides and cheered with wild enthusiasm at the brilliant achievement which had vindicated the glory of the unconquerable submarine.

With regard to the tug which accompanied the Gustave ZÉdÉ, it was stated that she was sent with the submarine as an additional precaution, in order that she might be assured of help in case of accident, but the Gustave ZÉdÉ could have reached Ajaccio by her own motor-power. She accomplished the voyage, moreover, in a sea with waves nine to twelve feet high, but notwithstanding the rough passage, her rolling was comparatively slight.

Those who had been most insistent in arguing the value of submarine warships declared that the torpedoing of the Charles Martel proved that instead of simply serving to defend the coast, a submarine could put to sea and assail the coasts of an enemy.

After her “brilliant exploit” the Gustave ZÉdÉ left Ajaccio at 6 o’clock one evening, and arrived at Toulon at 11 o’clock the following morning, her speed averaging 8 knots.

A Petit Journal correspondent at Marseilles said:—

“I mentioned this morning that the Gustave ZÉdÉ had arrived at 11 o’clock in the old port while still under warfare. I should like to call attention to the feat accomplished by this little boat. The Gustave ZÉdÉ had not been perceived by any of the coast signal stations, although the sea was calm, and the pilot steamer the Sentinelle went out to meet the tug Utile without suspecting that the submarine was immersed near at hand, navigating under water. Its presence was shown above water only by the tiny tricolour flag, the size of a sheet of paper, just above the surface. The Gustave ZÉdÉ entered the port and was moored at the quay among the other vessels without its presence being detected, save by reason of the little flag. This shows what service this submarine can render in time of war, and how natural and patriotic is the interest taken in it.”

On July 27, 1901, during a sham fight at Toulon, the Gustave ZÉdÉ was reported to have approached the Bouvet, on which were MM. Waldeck-Rousseau and De Lanessan, unseen, and to have fired a torpedo at the battleship whilst the Ministers and the Admiral were peacefully eating their dinners.

Commenting on this “feat,” a correspondent of the Matin said:—

“About 5 o’clock in the evening the fleet arrived at the entrance to the Salins d’HyÈres. The Gustave ZÉdÉ, which was lying under the shelter of one of the islands which close the Roads, at once got under way, and from the bridge of the Bouvet, M. Waldeck-Rousseau could see it plunge, and then make its way beneath the surface straight for the Bouvet, without deviating once.

“When about three hundred yards off, the Gustave ZÉdÉ launched a torpedo, which came towards the flagship in an absolutely straight line, showing that its course had been as admirably directed as it had been aimed. The Bouvet was struck on the starboard beam, three yards below the water-line. All those who were on the bridge saw the torpedo strike the hull, and they even heard the sound caused by the shock, and felt the slight trepidation usual in such cases, for it needs very little to cause vibration on board ships constructed entirely of steel.

“What is curious is that the torpedo, probably on account of its velocity, immediately after striking the Bouvet, glanced forward and was lost to sight. Thrown out of order by the sudden shock, it must have sunk to the bottom, for it has never been found.”

M. Waldeck-Rousseau subsequently went on board the Gustave ZÉdÉ, and after spending three-quarters of an hour on her he went away “in an enthusiastic frame of mind.”

M. Camille Pelletan, reporter of the Budget of the Ministry of Marine, said:—

“That a submarine should plunge beneath the surface of the water, and that it should then be able to discharge a torpedo, does not prove very much. There is no vessel of this description, however indifferent it may be, which does not accomplish as much. The whole question is to know its navigable sea-going and manoeuvring qualities. If the Gustave ZÉdÉ, therefore, in or near a harbour, torpedoed an ironclad, that, I repeat, proves nothing. The unfortunate thing is that it does not appear to have accomplished even that on the occasion referred to, for all efforts to find the torpedo have failed, and it is thus permissible to suppose that it missed its mark. I do not think that M. Waldeck-Rousseau could have seen the submarine effect its submersion and make for the Bouvet. The foremost quality of a submarine—its special guarantee of security—is that of being invisible. The Gustave ZÉdÉ will speedily have to be laid up if she betrays her presence so clumsily, but I have not much difficulty in reassuring myself. At the most, the Gustave ZÉdÉ could only have been seen when, instead of the vessel being nine feet below the surface, her optic tube, and probably even her cupola, were emerging above the water, an operation which is necessary for the discharge of the torpedo in the desired direction.”

In July, 1901, the Morse made an attempt to torpedo the coast-defence ship Jocyte. According to one report the Morse was ordered to sail from Cherbourg to Havre, and go for the gunboat Coeyte, which would be found moored in the Roads. Reaching Havre at night-time, the Morse, while still an hour’s run out, plunged, and continuing her voyage at eight knots an hour, approached the Coeyte unperceived, and launched three torpedoes against, her with success. The Morse then came to the surface, and was recognised by Admiral Fournier, who was on board the Coeyte. A feature of this particular experiment was the long preliminary voyage made by the submarine. Reuter, however, sent the following message relating to the same experiment: “The attempt made by the submarine Morse last night to torpedo the coast-defence ship Jocyte (sic) did not succeed, owing to the state of the sea, but the manoeuvre gave certain results as showing the ability of the submarine to approach without detection. The swell prevented any torpedo from being fired.” A Dalziel message is still more emphatic as to the failure. It states that the gunboat knew long enough ahead of the approach of the submarine to repel the attack. No torpedo could be discharged because of the swell.

In December, 1901, the Narval and Morse defended Cherbourg from an attack by the coast-defence ships Bouvines and Valmy, and torpedoed these vessels, those on board not being aware of the presence of the submarines until they rose to the surface.

During some manoeuvres at Cherbourg in January, 1902, the two guardships Bouvines and TrÉhouart, and the torpedo-boat destroyer Cassini were attacked by the five submarines, Morse, Narval, Triton, Espadon and FranÇais.

The Bouvines was hit at 100 yards by a torpedo fired from the Morse, which steered by periscope without showing above the surface; the TrÉhouart was attacked by the Triton and the Espadon; the former came to the surface as a fishing boat got in her way, and she was put out of action; the latter fired a torpedo, which hit the TrÉhouart. The Cassini evaded the Morse, but passed within range of the FranÇais, and was torpedoed by her.

Thus of the five submarines one was put out of action, whilst all three warships were destroyed.

In March, 1902, combined manoeuvres of the coast-defence ships Valmy and Jemmapes, and the submarines Algerien and FranÇais, took place; the Algerien was able unperceived to torpedo the Valmy, while the FranÇais succeeded in directing a torpedo at the Jemmapes. In May, 1902, the Gustave ZÉdÉ in an experimental attack on the battleship JaurÉguiberry off HyÈres grounded, but was subsequently refloated.

Mr. John P. Holland, in an article which he contributed to the North American Review for December, 1900, wrote as follows:—

“When the first submarine torpedo-boat goes into action she will bring us face to face with the most puzzling problem ever met in warfare. She will present the unique spectacle, when used in attack, of a weapon against which there is no defence. You can pit sword against sword, rifle against rifle, cannon against cannon, ironclad against ironclad; you can send torpedo-boat destroyers against torpedo-boats, and destroyers against destroyers, but you can send nothing against the submarine boat, not even itself. You cannot fight submarines with submarines. The fanciful descriptions of the submarine battle of the future have one fatal defect. You cannot see under water. Hence you cannot fight under water. Hence you cannot defend yourself against an attack under water except by running away. If you cannot run away you are doomed. Wharves, shipping at anchor, the buildings in seaport towns, cannot run away, therefore the sending of a submarine against them means their inevitable destruction. No; as nearly as the human mind can discern now, the submarine is indeed a ‘sea-devil’ against which no means that we possess at present can prevail. It is no use for the defence to mine, for the submarine would countermine, and torpedo nets would be of no use, for it would blow a hole through them, and any attempt to discover the position of the boat when below the surface is about as promising a pursuit as dredging with a butterfly-net for a half-dollar that had been thrown into New York Bay.”

In the present state of the science of submarine warfare it is certainly impossible to fight submarines with submarines, and it is recognised that the best chance of destroying an under-water vessel is when it comes to the surface to take a momentary glance at the position of its victim before launching its torpedo.

When a means of distinguishing objects beneath the waves has been evolved then it will be time enough to discuss the possibility of constructing a submarine boat destroyer which shall itself go beneath the surface and seek out the submarine to deal it its deathblow.

Every advance in military and naval science that tends to strengthen the attack has been met by some invention or device calculated to enable the defence to withstand it.

In the early days men went into battle wearing heavy armour, but nowadays, although bullet-proof cuirasses and bullet-proof shields have been suggested, the foot soldier carries no protection on his person, but relies instead upon entrenchments and fortifications.

It may be remembered that when the hostilities in South Africa commenced, certain experts declared that the new lyddite shells would annihilate the Boers in a very short space of time. The capabilities of the enemy for defending himself had been underestimated by these gentlemen, and the terrible slaughter which was predicted at Paardeberg did not occur owing to the wonderful entrenchments beneath which the Boers and their families sheltered.

Any system of entrenchment is of course impossible upon the high seas, and therefore men-of-war have to carry armour plate to protect their sides from the effects of shell and shot.

But no sooner had metallic armour been applied to the sides of war vessels than the manufacturers set to work to increase the size and destructive capacity of the shot, and for years past a duel has been in progress between the projectile and the plate; each improvement in the one has led to an improvement in the other, and all the resources of science have been requisitioned to render the projectile more deadly and the plate more impervious to its attack and lighter than before.

The advent of the torpedo as an effective weapon of attack brought about the “torpedo-boat,” which was met first by the “torpedo-catcher,” and then by the “torpedo-boat destroyer;” while as protection against the torpedo itself, nets and crinolines have been devised for the purpose of foiling the objects of the attack. A net-cutter on the bows of the torpedo has, however, made its appearance, and it is now considered unlikely that nets will be of much protection to a ship, even when stationary.

“The practice of “Submarine Mining” has led to “Counter-mining,” and the adoption of the searchlight on shipboard has caused the invention of a device whereby the rays of light are reflected away from the attacking vessel, thus enabling it to advance unobserved.”

The destructive effects of explosive shells have been met by the shipbuilders by the subdivision of the air space of a warship into watertight compartments, and the desire of the enemy’s gunners to inflict injury upon the boilers, the engines, or the propellers, has led numerous inventors to devise a type of warlike craft that shall be almost entirely destitute of armour, but constructed on such a principle-both as to hull and machinery—that she can be raked fore and aft and shot through in all directions without becoming either water-logged or deprived of her motive power.^[6]

So far as we are aware the only nation that has seriously taken up the question of an antidote to submarines is Great Britain. At present the submarine boat, owing to its slow speed and narrow radius of action, is more suited for defence than attack, though as it is year by year improving it may soon become a valuable attacking weapon. France has preferred to build torpedo-boats and Great Britain destroyers, and on January 15, 1901, France had 235 torpedo-boats and 9 destroyers, and Great Britain had 95 torpedo-boats and 89 destroyers, and in the same way while France is rapidly constructing a flotilla of submarines, Great Britain, although building a few submarines, is also devoting attention to the best method of meeting under-water attack.

The means of attack against submarines at present are:—

1. By quick-firing guns.

2. By firing shells full of high explosive, which bursting in the water near the boat, will beat it in.

3. By firing explosives at the end of a spar.

When running awash, the submarine presents a very small target; the hull is 3 to 5 feet below the surface, which would deflect all projectiles from machine guns, and the armoured conning tower, which is alone visible, would be a difficult object to hit.

After running awash for some distance the submarine will submerge herself, but in spite of periscope and optical tube she will most probably have to come to the surface once or twice to take a short sharp look round before firing her torpedo. This is the moment when the attack must be made upon the diving vessel, and the idea is to destroy her either by firing a shell from a gun, or an outrigger torpedo from a swiftly moving vessel. In so much as it is difficult to make a shell burst with certainty at the right instant, the second method is the one that seems most to commend itself to the authorities.

The Lords of the Admiralty in the course of their visit to Portsmouth in June, 1901, witnessed the working of a method of destroying submarines that had been devised by the Vernon’s staff. The trials took place at a considerable distance from shore, and were confidential, and therefore no official account of what took place has appeared. Still from various sources it is possible to piece together a “story,” the moral of which (according to some writers) seems to be that a satisfactory method of destroying the enemy’s submarine boats has been found, and that henceforth the British fleet has nothing to fear from the attacks of these “marine devils.”

In the present state of the science, they say, a submarine attacking a ship is bound to come to the surface to take bearings or else to betray her presence by optic tube or periscope. With the new invention that has been evolved on the Vernon, the sighting of a submarine entails her almost certain destruction. Sighting is said to be now practically certain, though it is not to the public benefit that the means which will be employed should be stated, as the principle has other and varied uses.

The experiments were made with H.M. torpedo-boat destroyer Starfish. On the starboard side certain plates had been strengthened, and above there was a crutch upon which worked a spar or outrigger torpedo. A spar-torpedo is really a movable observation mine. In the present instance it consisted of a stout pole some 42 feet in length, at the end of which was an explosive charge of 32 lbs. of wet gun-cotton, explodable by an electric current by the crew in the boat. Normally this boom stows inboard and forward, but on going into action it is slung out well forward and immersed in the water in the proper moment. This immersion carries the boom end downward and aft, and it is exploded directly the submarine is past. The idea is that the speed of the destroyer will carry her past the centre of the explosion before the full effects reach her. Her strengthened plates add to her safety, and it is thought that in any case destroyers are too light and “cork-light” to be seriously affected. As for the submarine below the waves, the men of the Vernon make out a pitiable case for her. She will experience the full force of the terrific concussion. Within from 50 feet to 100 feet or more of the centre of explosion, according to the charge employed, the sides of the submarine should be compressed sufficiently to cause fatal leaks, while even at a greater distance stability should be destroyed.

At the Portsmouth experiment the “dummy” submarine consisted of a barrel sunk some 10 feet below the surface of the water to represent a submerged boat. This was attacked and destroyed by the torpedo-boat destroyer Starfish in the following way. When within striking distance of the barrel, the boom was dropped and the gun-cotton exploded by electrical contact. The officers who carried out the experiment are reported to have said that any submarine within an area of 60 feet of the outrigger boom when the explosion occurred must infallibly have been annihilated by the bursting of the charge, and that if a submarine came up to within a 1,000 yards of a boom-fitted destroyer, it would certainly be done for.

It was stated that the single experiment carried out at Portsmouth was not enough to indicate exactly the best position for the boom, and the first boats to be fitted will probably vary somewhat between having it in the quarter or right aft. The additional weight of the boom is slight; in the case of the Starfish, the destroyer experimentally fitted, the weight had been more than compensated for by fitting her with aluminium, instead of the usual torpedo tubes.

To say that if a submarine rises anywhere near a destroyer armed with a spar, her destruction is absolutely certain, is, we think, going too far. To blow up a stationary barrel is not a very difficult task, but it must not be forgotten that if the destroyer sights the submarine, the submarine will also sight the destroyer and will endeavour to launch a torpedo at the destroyer before the latter can explode its weapon. Besides this the submarine having sighted the destroyer can dive and make off in a direction which the latter cannot foretell, and there would seem to be a good chance of her escaping.

Submarines will probably act in conjunction with torpedo-boats and destroyers, and the object of these vessels will be to ward off the attacks of hostile torpedo-boats and destroyers.

It has been said that in action the moral effect of the submarine would probably outweigh its practical effect, and it is now urged that the moral influence of this new antidote to submarines will be very great.

“The risks of ordinary submarine work,” says a writer, are not so great as many people imagine; and they can in a great measure be overcome by practice. But the deadly spar will quite alter this. The men in the submarine cannot acquire familiarity with this in peace; not till war will it operate. Then, whenever they are rising, they will know that a destroyer may be within reach, and that, if so, absolute annihilation is certain, and annihilation in a particularly horrible form.

“Excitement may sustain them; they may figure it out that their chances of life and death are on a par with those of the soldier in a frontal attack, but it is at least doubtful. It is difficult to make the analogy; and, moreover, there is the chill of the water to consider. Nerves and courage both suffer from cold, and the interior of a submarine has always the chill of a tomb. Inside it men sit, and may not move without endangering the craft’s stability. It will need a high courage thus to sit absolutely without means of knowing whether a painful annihilation is coming in a few minutes; it will certainly render it difficult to take careful observations—and careful observations are a vital necessity. And the Frenchman, of all races of men, seems least fitted to be calm under such circumstances. It must further be remembered that if a destroyer is within a thousand yards she will be easily able to steam up and destroy the boat, for a thousand yards a minute is now destroyer speed. The boat, on the other hand, cannot, save under favourable circumstances, see a distance of a thousand yards, certainly not in a hasty rise and plunge again. She might just distinguish a big ship, but that is about all. On the verge of a frightful death it will take a very cool man even to see that.”^[7]

The French appear to have considered the possibility of some “antidote,” for the submersible Narval has a double hull, and in the space between the two, sea water is allowed to circulate freely. Whether this device will enable the boat to resist the force of an explosion is a question which can only be satisfactorily decided in actual warfare. Meanwhile the bomb-proof hull will certainly receive attention.

So far the periscope and the optical tube have not done away with the necessity for the submarine to come to the surface to correct her course and take her bearings, but there are those who claim that even if the necessity were removed, the whereabouts of the submarine would be revealed by tell-tale foam and bubbles.

Many inventors have lately been devoting their attention to the steering of torpedoes without the need of connecting wires, and some consider that wireless torpedoes would be an efficient antidote to submarine boats. That such weapons can be produced there is little doubt, but that they will be sufficient to drive submarines from the seas, appears extremely doubtful—at any rate just at present.

The possibility of a battleship or a cruiser being able to inform herself of the advance of a submarine vessel must be considered. Water is an excellent conductor of sound, and a microphone or some similar apparatus could be arranged to give notice of the approach of an invisible ship, even when it was some way away. The ironclad could then surround herself with her torpedo nets, or steam away leaving the submarine powerless to overtake her.

The French are very naturally watching with intense interest the attitude of the British navy towards submarine boats, and the experiments that have lately been carried out by the officers of H. M. S. Vernon with a view to discovering the most effective method of destroying under-water craft, have been carefully followed by our neighbours over the channel.

According to a recent article in Le Yacht we are endeavouring to get submarines prohibited as unfair weapons, but being doubtful of such a “happy result,” have devised a torpedo that is fired the instant one is sighted. We have also perfected a “RÖntgen ray device” whereby the British sailor will be enabled to scan the ocean depths and sight the submarine even if it lurk at a depth of 20 feet below the surface. Le Yacht, however, thinks this device would cut both ways, and would enable the submarine to find its prey without coming to the surface at all. No official information regarding the RÖntgen ray device has up till now been vouchsafed, and it may after all exist nowhere else than in the heated imagination of French writers who hate perfidious Albion more than ever since she has considered the question of accomplishing the destruction of France’s submarine flotilla.

M. Lockroy, in a recent article in the Matin, suggested that it would only be possible to fight against submarines when the steering of balloons had been discovered, the black form of the vessel being very easily distinguished in the water from a certain height.