TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE

The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.

Obvious typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within the text and consultation of external sources.

More detail can be found at the [end of the book].

THE SUBMARINE IN
WAR AND PEACE

THE SUBMARINE IN
WAR AND PEACE

ITS DEVELOPMENTS AND ITS POSSIBILITIES

BY

SIMON LAKE, M.I.N.A.

WITH 71 ILLUSTRATIONS
AND A CHART

PHILADELPHIA AND LONDON
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
1918

COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY

PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
AT THE WASHINGTON SQUARE PRESS
PHILADELPHIA, U. S. A.

DEDICATED

TO

LEBBEUS B. MILLER

OF ELIZABETH, NEW JERSEY

An honest and patriotic man, who took up a poor young man, and who, through his thorough grasp of things mechanical, was among the first to see practical possibilities in the dreams of a young inventor. With his financial means he was able to assist materially in the development and perfection of an important weapon for the defence of his country, thus rendering a valuable service to the nation.

Without his assistance much of the development work described in this volume would have been impossible of accomplishment.

No greater tribute can be paid to him than to remark of him that he is one—and there are but few of whom this may be said—who has steadfastly refused to take advantage of conditions which offered him the opportunity to increase his personal fortune at the expense of other individuals or of the welfare of his country.

[FOREWORD]

Some twenty years ago the author began to collect data with the idea of publishing a book on the submarine at a future time. There was very little information concerning submarines available at that date, as the early experiments in this field of navigation were generally conducted in secrecy. There had been constructed, up to that time, no submarine vessel which was entirely successful, and for this reason inventors and designers were disinclined to reveal the features of the vessels upon which they were experimenting.

Since then there has been considerable dissemination of facts about the submarine; much of this knowledge has found its way into print, some in short historical sketches published by the author and other designers. However, most of the publications on this subject have come from the hands of professional writers and newspaper men, some of whom have not had the engineering knowledge to sift the practical from the impractical, and who have not had any actual first-hand acquaintance with the facts. They have not understood the mechanical details of the submarine and the principles governing its operation well enough to comprehend or to elucidate the various phases of the development of this type of vessel. The result has been that many inaccuracies have been published, both in respect to the history of the development of the submarine and in regard to the practical operation of such vessels.

There have been published one or two good works dealing with this subject in a very complete and intelligible manner, but intended for those engaged in engineering pursuits. One of the best of these was "The Evolution of the Submarine Boat, Mine and Torpedo, from the Sixteenth Century to the Present Time," by Commander Murray F. Sueter, of the Royal British Navy, published in 1907.

When this book first appeared the present writer felt that the subject had been so fully covered that there was no need for him to publish his own information. However, since the beginning of the world-war the prominent part played by the submarine has led to a demand for more knowledge about the workings of this weapon of mystery, and for information concerning its future possibilities.

The aim of this work, therefore, is to present to the reader in a simple, interesting way the facts relating to the submarine; its mechanical principles; the history of its development; its actual operation; the difficulty of combating it; and its industrial possibilities. These facts are presented, together with descriptions of the experience of the author and other inventors, in order to clarify in the reader's mind the difficulties, the trials and tribulations of both the submarine operator and the inventor. Furthermore, the narrative is not restricted to a discussion of the submarine question from a mechanical standpoint. The submarine to-day is a factor in the political and industrial life of the world. The submarine problem transcends a mere matter of mechanical detail, and a book upon this topic must, of necessity, deal with it in its broadest aspects.

Simon Lake

[CONTENTS]

[ILLUSTRATIONS]

THE SUBMARINE IN WAR AND PEACE

[INTRODUCTION]

Jules Verne, in 1898, cabled to a New York publication: "While my book, 'Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea,' is entirely a work of the imagination, my conviction is that all I said in it will come to pass. A thousand-mile voyage in the Baltimore submarine boat (the Argonaut) is evidence of this. This conspicuous success of submarine navigation in the United States will push on under-water navigation all over the world. If such a successful test had come a few months earlier it might have played a great part in the war just closed (Spanish-American war). The next war may be largely a contest between submarine boats. Before the United States gains her full development she is likely to have mighty navies, not only on the bosom of the Atlantic and Pacific, but in the upper air and beneath the waters of the surface."

The fantasy of Verne is the fact of to-day.

Admiral Farragut, in 1864, entered Mobile Bay while saying: "Damn the torpedoes—four bells; Captain Drayton, go ahead; Jouett, full speed!"

An admiral, in 1917, damns the torpedoes and orders full speed ahead, but not toward those points guarded by submarine torpedo boats.

While the British Admiralty once held that the submarine "is the weapon of the weaker power and not our concern," to-day the British naval officers in the North Sea operations somewhat discredit the former official Admiralty stand that "we know all about submarines; they are weapons of the weaker power; they are very poor fighting machines and can be of no possible use to the mistress of the seas."

Even as late as 1904 the submarine was not considered by naval authorities as a weapon of much value. A British admiral expressed his views on the submarine at that time in these words: "In my opinion, the British Admiralty is doing the right thing in building submarines, as in habituating our men and officers to them we shall more clearly realize their weaknesses when used against us. Even the weapon they carry (the Whitehead torpedo) is, to all intents and purposes, of unknown value for sea fighting."

However, from the very outbreak of the war now being carried on in Europe, the submarine has made its presence felt as a most effective weapon. German submarines have translated into actuality the prophecies of Verne, and have altered the views not only of the English but of the world as to the efficacy of the submarine as a naval weapon.

THE PIGMY CONQUERER OF THE SEA.

A drawing made by the author in 1893 to illustrate the possibilities of his submarine boat, and called "The Pigmy Conquerer of the Sea."

On March 10, 1915, a former chief constructor in the French Navy, M. Lauboeuf, stated: "An English fleet blockades the German coast, but at such a distance that a German division was able to go out and bombard Scarborough. When the English tried a close blockade at the beginning of the war, the German submarines made them pay dearly by torpedoing the Pathfinder, Cressy, Hogue, and Aboukir. Similarly the French fleet in the Adriatic was compelled to blockade Austrian ports from a great distance, and the battleships Jules Ferry, Waldeck Rousseau, and Jean Bart had fortunate escapes from the Austrian fleet."

As I write, the submarines of Germany are holding the navies of the Allied Powers in check. The British fleet dares not invade German waters or attempt a close blockade of German ports. In spite of the mighty English navy, the German U-boats—the invisible destroyers—are venturing forth daily into the open Atlantic and are raising such havoc with merchant shipping that the world is terrified at the prospect. It is the German U-boat which to-day encourages the Central Powers to battle almost single-handedly against the rest of the world's great nations.

So it is in this surprising manner that the submarine torpedo boat has emerged from its swaddling clothes and has begun to speak for itself. Its progress and development have been retarded for many years by the lack of appreciation of its possibilities on the part of those who have had the planning of naval programs. These have been, for the most part, men of ripe years and experience, and perhaps because of these years of experience they have become ultra-conservative and have been inclined to scoff and doubt the capabilities of any new device until it has been tried out by the fire of actual experience. Notwithstanding the fact that the problem of submarine navigation has been successfully solved for the past fifteen years, it has been only within the past four years that any great naval authority has unqualifiedly endorsed submarines as being of paramount importance in naval affairs.

Admiral Sir Percy Scott, in a strong letter to the London Times shortly previous to the beginning of the present war, stated: "The introduction of the vessels that swim under water has, in my opinion, entirely done away with the utility of the ships that swim on top of the water."

He stated further: "If we go to war with a country that is within striking distance of submarines, I am of the opinion that the country will at once lock up their dreadnoughts in some safe harbor and we shall do the same. I do not think the importance of submarines has been fully recognized, neither do I think that it has been realized how completely their advent has revolutionized naval warfare. In my opinion, as the motor has driven the horse from the road, so the submarine has driven the battleship from the sea."

Sir Percy Scott, however, is an inventor, being the man who devised the "spot" method of gun firing, and has, therefore, the type of mind which is able to foresee and to grasp the value of new devices.

Sir A. Conan Doyle, another man of great vision and imagination, was so impressed with the potentialities of the submarine that he wrote a story which prophesied, with such accuracy as to make his tale almost uncanny, the events which are actually taking place to-day around the coast of England in the prosecution of Germany's submarine blockade.

In these pages, therefore, I may make claims for submarines which have not yet been publicly proved by actual performance, and such claims may impress many as being as visionary as the destructive capabilities of submarines appeared to be until Lieutenant Weddingen, of the German Navy, shocked the conservatives and put the submarine on the map as a naval weapon by sinking, single-handed, three cruisers within one hour of each other.

I shall be careful, however, not to make any claim for submarines which is not warranted by experiments actually made during my twenty-two years' continual study and experience in designing and building submarine boats and submarine appliances in the United States and abroad.

To men of imagination and of inventive faculties these claims will not appear preposterous. The achievements of the submarine, in the face of all the ridicule, scepticism, and opposition which surrounded its development, will, I hope, commend these advanced ideas of mine to the attention, if not the respect, of the more conservative.

[CHAPTER I]

WHAT THE MODERN SUBMARINE IS

What is a modern submarine boat? A modern submarine vessel is a complex mechanism capable of being navigated on the surface of the water just as is any boat, but with the added faculty of disappearing at will beneath the surface, and of being operated beneath the surface in any desired direction at any desired depth. Some submarines are able to wheel along the bottom itself, and are also provided with diving compartments from which members of the crew, encased in diving suits, may readily leave and re-enter the vessel during its submergence.

The principal use to which the submarine vessel has thus far been turned has been that of a naval weapon, for scouting and for firing explosive automobile torpedoes, either for defensive or offensive purposes. Its full capacity has by no means been realized up to the present time.

All submarines, regardless of their design, have certain essential features which will be described in the order of their importance.

The Hull.—This must be watertight and capable of withstanding a pressure corresponding to the depth at which the vessel is designed to operate. The hull in most submarines is circular in cross-section; the circular form is best adapted for withstanding pressure. In some cases this circular hull is surrounded by another hull or is fitted with other appendages which will both increase the stability and seaworthiness of the submarine and add to its speed.

Superstructure.—Most of the early military submarines built for the French, Spanish, United States, and English governments were circular in cross-section and of cigar-or spindle-shaped form in their longitudinal profile view. It is difficult, in vessels of this form, to secure sufficient stability to make them seaworthy. They are apt to roll like a barrel when light, due to a diminishing water plane, and when under way the water is forced up over their bows, making a large "bow wave" which absorbs power and causes such vessels to dive at times when least expected. In some instances this tendency to dive has caused loss of the vessel, and, in some cases, of the lives of the crew as well.

They are also very wet for surface navigation, as the seas break over their inclined sides like breakers on a beach. These difficulties led to the invention of the buoyant superstructure, first used on the Argonaut. This is a watertight structure built of light-weight plating—in some cases it has been built of wood—with valves which admit free water to the interior of the superstructure before submerging.

By the admission of the water, danger of collapse is prevented. By this expedient the pressure upon these light plates is equalized when the vessel is submerged. This combination of a circular pressure-resisting inner structure, surmounted by a non-pressure-resisting outer structure of ship-shaped form, is now common to all modern submarines of all navies of the world. This superstructure adds to the seaworthiness and habitability of submarine vessels and increases their speed, both in the light and submerged conditions, as it admits of better stream lines.

Stability.—The stability of a vessel refers to its ability to keep upright and on a level keel. It is desirable to have great stability in a submarine in order that it may not assume excessive angles when submerged. The measure of stability is expressed in inches of metacentric height. The metacentric height of a vessel when submerged is the distance between the centre of buoyancy—or submerged volume—of the vessel and the centre of all the weights of hull, machinery, stores, and equipment contained within the vessel. This distance between the centre of buoyancy and the centre of gravity must be determined very accurately in order to obtain conditions of ideal stability in a submarine.

The metacentric height of a vessel is a term used in naval architecture to express the stability of the ship. In surface ships the term may be used to express either the longitudinal or transverse stability of the vessel, and varies according to the load line and trim or heel of the ship. On the other hand, in submarine boats when submerged the metacentric height is constant and expresses the distance between the centre of gravity and the centre of buoyancy of the vessel, and is the same either in the transverse or longitudinal plane of the vessel. In other words, the centre of buoyancy of the vessel when submerged must be directly over the centre of gravity of the vessel to cause her to submerge on a level keel.

We then get the effect of a pendulum, the length of the pendulum arm being the distance between the two points, and the weight of the pendulum equalling the weight of the ship. Therefore, if a submarine has a submerged displacement of five hundred tons, with a metacentric height of twelve inches, her stability, or ability to remain upright, is equal to a pendulum of five hundred tons hung by an arm twelve inches long, and it would require the same force to incline the ship as it would to incline the pendulum. Therefore it is evident that the greater the metacentric height the more stable the ship, and the less likely she is to make eccentric dives to the bottom or "broach" to the surface.

Ballast Tanks.—All submarines are fitted with tanks which may be filled with water so that the vessel will submerge; these are called ballast tanks. When the vessel is navigating on the surface she has what is called "reserve of buoyancy," the same as any surface vessel. It is this reserve of buoyancy which causes the vessel to rise with the seas in rough weather. It means the volume of the watertight portion of the vessel above the water line. In surface cruising a vessel with great buoyancy will rise to the seas, while if the "reserve" is small the vessel is termed "loggy" and will not rise to the sea. In the latter case the seas will break over the vessel just as they break over a partially submerged rock in a storm. On such a vessel the men cannot go on deck in a storm; in a sea-going submarine a large reserve of buoyancy is therefore essential.

Now in a modern submarine, of five hundred tons submerged displacement, for instance, this reserve should be about one hundred and twenty-five tons, according to the best practice. This means that before the vessel could sink beneath the surface the ballast tanks must be filled with one hundred and twenty-five tons of water. On the surface these tanks are filled with air. The water is permitted to enter by the opening of valves for that purpose. These ballast tanks are located within the main hull and in the superstructure.

Propelling Machinery.—When on the surface the submarine may be propelled by steam, internal-combustion engines, or any other kind of motive power adapted to the propulsion of surface ships. For propulsion when submerged many types of engine have been tried: compressed air engines; steam engines drawing the steam from boilers in which water has been stored at high temperatures; carbonic acid gas engines, and the internal-combustion engines receiving their air supply from compressed-air tanks. Most modern submarines use internal-combustion engines for surface navigation and storage batteries delivering current to electric motors for submerged propulsion. The internal-combustion engine is best suited for surface work because it can be started or stopped instantly, which is a desirable feature in submarine work. It is not fitted for submerged operation because of its great noisiness, and also because its spent gases must be discharged from the boat, in which case these gases ascend to the surface in the form of bubbles and thus betray the presence and position of the submarine. The storage battery, on the contrary, permits the use of practically noiseless machinery and does not require any outboard discharge of gases, as the battery gives off no material quantity of gases when delivering its stored-up power.

I was the first to use successfully an internal-combustion engine in a submarine boat, the Argonaut. This first engine was a heavy-duty engine of rugged construction, and gave but little trouble. This type of engine, with but slight modifications, was installed in six other boats built subsequent to the Argonaut. They also worked satisfactorily for several years, and so long as I had knowledge of them they always gave satisfactory and reliable service.

The first gasolene (petrol) internal-combustion engines installed in the Holland boats were also of rugged construction, and I have been informed by various officers in our submarine service that they were reliable and gave but little trouble. It is known that, after twelve years' service, some of them are still doing good work. The boats in which these engines were installed were slow-speed boats, making only from eight to nine knots on the surface.

A natural desire on the part of the governments of various nations was to secure increased speed. They sent out requirements to submarine boat builders calling for increased speeds within certain limits of cost. The submarine boat builders said: "Certainly we can give you increased speed if the engine builders can give us engines of the necessary power to go into the available space, and within a certain weight, to thus enable us to get the power plant within a certain size vessel possessing the fine lines necessary to give the required speed." The engine builders said they could do it.

The first, as I remember, to break away from the slow-speed, heavy-duty type was a celebrated Italian firm. Then two large and well-known German firms followed; then a celebrated English firm, and certain American firms claimed that they could build reliable, compact, high-speed engines on very much less weight than we had been using. I remember one American firm which offered engines as low in weight as twenty pounds per horsepower. Fortunately, we had sense enough to refuse to accept an engine so light as that, but we, as well as all other submarine boat builders both in this country and abroad, did accept contracts which required engines very much less in weight than the old, slow, heavy-duty type first used, and there has been "wailing and gnashing of teeth" both by the submarine boat builders and by the engine-room forces in the world's submarine navies ever since.

The first light-weight engines built by the Italian firm "smashed up" in short order. The German engines followed suit, and the losses to this firm, or to the shipbuilders, must have been enormous, as a large number of engines were built by them before a set was tested out in actual service. The test of an engine in the shop, on a heavy foundation, open to inspection on all sides, and with expert mechanics in constant touch with the engine, does not mean that this same engine will prove satisfactory in the restricted space available in a submarine boat when run by other than expert engine-building mechanics. I was present at a shop test of one of the German engines referred to, and under shop conditions it appeared to work very well—so well, in fact, that I took an option for my firm to build from the same designs in America. When the engine was tried out, however, in one of the German submarines it rapidly deteriorated and pounded itself into junk in a few weeks. Cylinders and cylinder heads cracked, bed-plates were broken, and crank-shafts twisted or broken. It was evident that the design was too light all the way through.

There are some destructive actions in connection with large, high-speed, light-weight internal-combustion engines which practically all designing engineers have failed to grasp. Otherwise, engineers of all nationalities would not have failed to the extent they have; and I do not believe that there is a submarine engine in service to-day which has fully met the expectations of its designers and builders.

It is unfortunate for the engineering profession that government policy will not permit of a full disclosure of the defects of engines and other equipment in government-owned vessels. Were a frank disclosure made, other inventors and engineers would, in all probability, take up the problems and they might the sooner be solved.

All the earlier submarines were equipped with engines which used gasolene (petrol) as a fuel, but the gas from this fuel, when mixed with a proper proportion of air, is highly explosive. A number of serious explosions occurred in submarines due to this gas escaping from leaky tanks, pipings, or valves. Some of them were accompanied by loss of life. The most disastrous was that on board the Italian submarine Foca, in which it is reported that twenty-three men were killed. Therefore, several years ago, all governments demanded the installation of engines using a non-explosive fuel; and builders then turned to the "Diesel" engine as offering a solution of the problem.

As early as 1905 I had anticipated that such a demand would ultimately be made, so during that year I built, in Berlin, Germany, an experimental double-acting heavy-oil engine; but unfortunately the engineer in charge of the work was taken ill and eventually died. This engine was later completed and showed great flexibility in its control and in reversing. It, however, has never been put on a manufacturing basis.

In the meantime, others took up the work of developing the heavy oil Diesel engine for submarines. The first of the Diesel type engines to be installed in a submarine were built by a well-known French firm of engine builders. As we were then in the market for heavy-oil submarine engines, plans of these engines were submitted to me, but I found it impossible to install them in any boat we then had under construction, owing to their size and weight. I have been advised that engines of this design were installed in some of the French submarine boats. I have also been informed that the shock and vibrations produced by them were such as to cause the rivets in the boats to loosen, and this started the vessels to leaking so badly that it was found necessary to take them out. These engines differed only slightly from the vertical Diesel land engine.

The engine is the most important element in the submarine. Without this it is impossible to make long surface runs, and in the event of its disablement it is impossible to charge the storage batteries to enable the submarine to function submerged, which is, of course, what she is built for doing.

I think the demand for increased speed has come too rapidly. It is more important to have reliability than speed. The criticisms which have been made regarding United States submarines, if traced to their source, may be found to be justified so far as they apply to the engines, but the Navy Department cannot be held responsible, and neither can the designers of submarines. They have both searched the world's markets and secured the best that could be purchased. All naval departments were undoubtedly right when they decided to abandon the gasolene (petrol) engine and substitute therefor the heavy-oil engine. Eventually a successful heavy-oil engine will be produced.

STORAGE BATTERY CELL

A SUBMARINE CELL COMPLETELY ASSEMBLED READY FOR INSTALLATION

Storage batteries as used in modern submarines have been especially developed to meet the special needs of submarine-boat service. The requirements for this service are much more severe than those for any other service to which the storage battery has been applied. The batteries as first introduced in submarines were entirely too frail to stand up to their work, and the gases given off from them while being charged were the cause of much distress and danger to the crew, and have been in some cases responsible for the loss of both vessel and crew.

The Diesel engine, weighing practically five hundred pounds or more per horsepower, has functioned satisfactorily in land installations and has come into very general use, especially in Germany, but when the attempt was made to change this slow-speed engine of five hundred pounds per horsepower into high-speed engines of approximately fifty pounds per horsepower, all designers "fell down." It was but natural that naval authorities throughout the world should call for increased speed; they cannot be criticised for that, as it is a desirable thing, but experience has shown that they called for it too early in the game.

The expense of the development of a new type of motive power, such as the high-speed, heavy-oil-burning engine, for use in vessels whose prime purpose is to preserve the autonomy of the country, should be borne by the government rather than by individuals or private corporations. Millions of dollars have been expended in the development work of engines, but, although vast improvements are now in progress, the successful engine is not yet on the market.

Dr. Diesel has stated that he worked seven years before he succeeded in getting his first engine to make one complete revolution. Governments and the people must therefore content themselves to accept what they can get in a heavy-oil engine, imperfect though it may be, until such time as a satisfactory engine is evolved, built, and tested out under service conditions.

Storage Batteries.—It is impossible in a book of this character to go into much detail regarding the development of the storage battery. There have been two types in general use. They are both lead batteries, one known as the Planté type, in which metallic lead is used to form both the positive and negative plates. The other type employs what is commonly known as pasted plates, in which various compositions of materials are worked up into a paste and forced into metallic grids to form the positive and negative plates. The pasted type has greater capacity per pound of material used, but much shorter life.

In both of these batteries sulphuric acid solutions are used as the excitant between the elements. In charging, hydrogen gas is given off in the form of bubbles, the skin of the bubbles being composed of sulphuric acid solution. These bubbles, when taken in one's lungs, are very irritating, and if they collect in any quantity, or break up and allow the hydrogen gas to mix with the air, there is always danger of creating an explosive mixture within the hull of the vessel or in the battery tanks, which a spark would set off at any time.

The best method of installing batteries on a submarine boat is to have them isolated from the living quarters of the vessel in separate watertight compartments. The elements of the battery should be contained in non-metallic containers and sealed to prevent spilling of the electrolyte under excessive rolling or pitching of the vessel. Means should be provided to discharge the hydrogen gases from the boat as rapidly as formed. Special care should be taken to prevent leakages between the adjacent cells. Circulation of air to keep the cells dry is the best means of preventing this.

Mr. Edison has been working for a number of years on a storage battery suitable for submarine work, and it has recently been stated that he has finally solved the problem of producing a battery that will stand up longer than the lead type of battery, and that it has the further advantage in that it will not give off chlorine gas in case salt water should get into the cells. It should, however, be contained in a separate compartment, which should be ventilated during the charging period, as I understand the Edison battery gives off hydrogen gas the same as the lead batteries. Chlorine gas, as given off from the lead battery when salt water has got into it, has undoubtedly caused the loss of some lives. Mr. Edison claims that his battery, when immersed, will not give off poisonous gases of any kind.

METHOD OF CONTROL IN DIVING TYPE BOATS

Horizontal rudder set down aft inclines the vessel down by the bow, in which condition, with only a small reserve of buoyancy, she will "dive." When she reaches the desired depth a lesser inclination of the diving rudder is supposed to reduce her angle of inclination sufficiently so that the pressure on the top of her hull will offset the tendency to rise due to her positive buoyancy. To be successful there must be no movable ballast, and variable stream line effect requires expert manipulation of the diving rudder.

Depth Control.—Practically all modern submarines use hydroplanes with a horizontal rudder for the control of depth when under way. Hydroplanes might be said to correspond to the side fins of a fish. They are substantially flat vanes that extend from either side of the vessel. They are set on shafts that may be partially rotated by mechanism in control of a man within the vessel. They readily control the depth of the vessel with a certain amount of either positive or negative buoyancy. For instance, submarines are usually submerged with a small amount of positive buoyancy. If a vessel has positive buoyancy she will float. We have seen that in a surface condition the five-hundred-ton submarine has about one hundred and twenty-five tons of positive buoyancy.

METHOD OF CONTROLLING HYDROPLANE BOATS

Showing a proper arrangement of hydroplanes and horizontal rudders. C B represents the centre of buoyancy of the vessel when submerged. G represents centre of gravity, which lies directly beneath centre of buoyancy. Now if hydroplanes are located at equal distances fore and aft their up or down pull is always balanced and does not cause the vessel to dive or broach, but holds her to a level keel. If stream line pull tends to upset this level keel, horizontal rudders may be used to correct it.

Now to prepare the vessel for a submerged run, we admit, say, one hundred and twenty-four tons of water; the positive buoyancy is then reduced to one ton. Now if the forward edges of the hydroplanes are inclined downward (see diagram), and the vessel is given headway, the pressure of the water on top of the inclined hydroplanes, combined with the tendency for a vacuum to form under the planes, will overcome the one ton of positive buoyancy and will pull the vessel bodily under the water. When the desired depth is reached the operator sets the inclination of the hydroplanes so as to just balance the upward pull of the one ton of positive buoyancy, and the vessel proceeds at the desired depth. On modern boats the control of depth is most remarkable; it is very common for submarines to make continuous runs of several hours' duration without varying their depth more than a couple of feet. When the headway or motive force of the submarine is stopped, if she has reserved some positive buoyancy she will come to the surface. If she has negative buoyancy she will sink, but while under way with as much as a ton of positive or negative buoyancy the hydroplanes will absolutely control the depth of the vessel.

HOW HYDROPLANES CONTROL DEPTH OF SUBMERSION

The vessel being "under way" in the course of the arrow, the water contacting against the upper surface of the hydroplanes, as in the upper view, its course is thus diverted and adds weight to the upper surface of the planes. There is also a tendency to form a vacuum under the plane. Both these forces tend to overcome the positive buoyancy of the boat and force her under water and on a level keel if these forces are properly distributed fore and aft of the centre of buoyancy and gravity of the vessel.

Action of the Hydroplanes.—The diagrams are intended to demonstrate how it is that the Lake and other hydroplane boats can be so easily held at a predetermined depth and controlled vertically on an even keel.

The hydroplanes are symmetrically disposed on two sides of the vessel. They should be equal distance forward and aft of amidships. This symmetrical disposition, with equal forces acting on each hydroplane, compels the boat either to rise or sink on an even keel, depending upon which face of the hydroplanes is presented to the passing water during the boat's progress.

In the upper diagram the entering edges of the hydroplanes are inclined downward, and the force of the passing stream lines strikes upon the upper face of the blades. This exerts a downward force which causes the boat to sink, as indicated by the arrows marked "A, A." The opposite of this takes place when the forward ends of the hydroplanes are lifted. This brings the force of the stream lines against the under side of the hydroplanes, and the resultant is a lifting impulse in the direction of the line of least resistance, which is here indicated by the arrows marked "B, B." It is the lifting force so applied that makes it possible to raise hydroplane boats from the bottom even when having considerable negative buoyancy.

ON PICKET DUTY

This is a field of service to which the anchoring weights and the diving compartment of the Lake boats lend themselves conjointly with especial fitness. The illustration represents a submarine doing picket duty on an offshore station. A junction box is placed in a known locality with telephone or telegraph cables leading therefrom to the shore. The submarine, having taken her position on the surface, lowers her anchoring weights, reduces her reserve buoyancy to the desired extent, and then draws herself down to the bottom by winding in again on the cables connecting with the anchoring weights. Having reached the bottom, the diving door is opened and a diver passes out and makes the necessary connections between that junction box and the instruments in the boat.

Holding Depth When Not Under Way.—If it is desired to bring the boat to rest while submerged, but when no motive force is being used, other methods must be used than that just described. One method is to have an anchor or anchors to hold the vessel at the desired depth. If it is desired to lie at rest off the entrance of the enemy's harbor to wait for her ships to come out, the submarine proceeds to her station submerged with a small amount of buoyancy,—which is the usual method of navigating submerged. When she arrives at the desired station the speed is reduced and an additional amount of water is gradually admitted to give her a small amount of negative buoyancy. At the same time her anchoring weights are paid out until they touch bottom. As soon as they do so water is forced out of the ballast tanks by compressed air until positive buoyancy is restored and the vessel stops sinking and remains at rest anchored between the surface and the bottom, like an anchored buoyant mine. By winding in on the anchor cables a submarine may then be hauled down nearer the bottom, and by paying out the cables she may rise nearer the surface. On picket duty off harbor entrances she remains sufficiently near the surface to project her telescoping periscope occasionally above the crest of the waves to keep watch and see that an enemy ship does not enter or clear. In this condition there is no necessity to have any machinery running on board the submarine, therefore she can remain for weeks at a time on station without exhausting her fuel supply. It is only necessary for her to renew the air supply now and then, which can be done at night. Another method for holding a vessel at rest is by taking in and forcing out alternately small quantities of water so as to keep her in equilibrium between positive and negative buoyancy. Another method is to use vertical propellers operating in wells extended from the sides, and by running these it is possible to exert an upward or downward pressure and so hold her at a depth. Neither of these methods is as satisfactory, however, as the anchor weights, because the vessel will not hold a definite position on station, but will drift off with the current. They also make a drain on the storage battery and require constant attention on the part of the members of the crew. By the anchor weights scheme the vessel may stay on station as long as the food and fuel supply holds out.

SHOWING VARIOUS CONDITIONS IN WHICH A SUBMARINE OF THE LEVEL KEEL TYPE FITTED WITH BOTTOM WHEELS, MAY NAVIGATE

1, running light on surface; 2, awash, ready for submergence; 3, submerged, depth controlled by hydroplanes; 4, running on bottom.

The above facts set forth simply the outstanding mechanical principles upon which the operation of the submarine is based. The submarine of to-day, however, has many auxiliaries, to describe which in detail would require several volumes of technical description.

I will briefly enumerate a few of the more important of these devices and describe their function as applied to the war submarine.

THE LOWER PORTION OF GALILEO PERISCOPE

THE PERISCOPE IS THE EYE OF THE SUBMARINE.
(See description.)

The Periscope.—The periscope is the eye of the submarine. In its simpler form it consists of a stiff metallic tube, from fifteen to twenty feet in length and about four inches in diameter. Referring to Figure 1, on [page 23], it is made up of an object glass, A, which "views" or takes an impression of all objects within its range or field of vision, and transmits an image of such object through the right-angle prism, B, which turns the image so that it appears some distance down the tube, say, for purposes of description, at C. If a piece of ground glass were held at the focus of the objective lens at C, the image could be seen. The lens D, located farther down the tube, in turn now "views" the image and transmits it still farther down the tube, where it is turned through the right-angle prism, E, and where the image is again turned into an erect position. A piece of ground glass located at F would show the image in the same manner as an image is shown on the ground glass of a camera. The magnifying eyepiece G magnifies the image so that distant objects appear of natural size.

Other figures show a periscope as made by the Officina Galileo in Florence, Italy. This firm makes periscopes with binocular eyepieces. The success of any periscope depends upon the character of the material used in the lenses and prisms and the accuracy of the workmanship. This firm, which is probably the oldest optical manufacturing house in the world, said to have been founded by Galileo himself, turns out instruments of the most beautiful workmanship. The flange of the instrument is bolted to the top of the conning tower, or deck, and a gate valve is arranged between the deck and the eyepiece so that in case the tube should be carried away the gate valve can be closed and thus prevent water from entering the vessel. A hand wheel arranged below the binocular eyepiece permits of easy rotation of the instrument. Provision is made for introducing dry air; this prevents condensation forming on the lenses or prisms within the tube.

Owing to the fact that there is a certain loss of light in transmitting the image through the various prisms and lenses, it is customary to magnify the image so that it appears to be about one-quarter larger than when viewed by the natural eye. This has been found by experience to give, when viewed through the periscope alone from a submerged vessel, the impression of correct distance.

Previous to 1900 there was no instrument which would give through a long tube normal vision and a correct idea as to distance. At this time I took up with various opticians the question of producing such an instrument. They all contended that it was impossible to produce an instrument that would give through a long tube a field of vision equal to the natural eye or that would convey a correct idea as to the distance of an object when viewed through a long tube. The camera lucida which Mr. Holland and others had used in the earlier submarines simply threw a picture of the object on a bit of white paper, usually located on a table. This did not give to the observer any more idea of the correct distance of an object than a photograph would. Believing, however, that a solution could be found, I then purchased a variety of lenses and started making experiments.

Without any special knowledge of optical science, one day quite by accident I secured the desired result and found that it was possible to secure practically normal vision through a tube of considerable length. About the same time, Sir Howard Grubb, of England, brought out an instrument in which he accomplished the same result. I then continued in my experimental work and brought out an instrument which was designed to give a simultaneous view of the entire horizon.

This instrument was called an "omniscope." It was first called a "skalomniscope," which was a word coined with the idea of describing the function of the instrument and which, translated, means "to view and measure everything." A scale was used in connection with this instrument which would convert it into a range finder by measuring the image of an abject of known dimensions, such as the length of a ship or the height of its smokestack, and give simultaneous reading as to its distance.

For a time it was necessary for us to manufacture our own sighting instruments, but later, when the optical houses understood the principle of the periscope, they took up the matter of manufacture and have so greatly improved them that it is now possible to secure instruments of great accuracy and fine definition.

The periscope, however, is faulty, in that it is only an instrument for day use. As soon as dusk comes on the periscope becomes useless. The passing of the image down the tube and through the various lenses and prisms reduces the brilliancy of the image to such an extent that, even though it is finally magnified to above normal, the image is so thin at night that it cannot be seen. This forces the submarine to become vulnerable in making an attack at night, as it is necessary for the conning tower to be brought a sufficient distance above the surface of the water to permit the commanding officer to secure natural vision.

With the powerful searchlights and rapid-fire guns, the submarine would have little opportunity to approach a surface war vessel at night without great danger of being discovered and destroyed.

THE VOICE AND EAR OF THE SUBMARINE

A Fessenden oscillator, before being installed. The flange of the oscillator is riveted to the shell of the ship and its diaphragm is caused to vibrate by the sound waves, which pass through water more distinctly than they do through the air. To send out signals it is caused to vibrate mechanically by electrical apparatus.

Invisible Conning Tower.—For night observation it has been proposed to use transparent conning towers built of clear glass, in which the commander takes his station and just sticks his head above the crest of the waves in order to direct his vessel against the enemy. This has not as yet come into general use because of the difficulty of securing sufficiently clear glass in the desired form. Experiments have been made, however, which show that quite a large transparent conning tower cannot be seen on a submarine at rest even when within a couple of hundred yards; the application of these conning towers will greatly increase the submarine's efficiency for night work.

Submarine Sound Receivers.—All modern submarines are fitted with devices which enable the commanders of submarines to communicate with each other when running under water even when considerable distances apart. One of these outfits consists of a signal bell and a powerful receiver with which sounds may be transmitted and heard. Conversations may be carried on by the Morse and other codes for distances of ten or twelve miles.

TORPEDO TUBES ASSEMBLED READY FOR INSTALLATION IN A SUBMARINE BOAT

Left view, the breech end of the tube. Right view, the outboard doors, which must first be opened before the torpedo is expelled from the tube by compressed air. When the torpedo is expelled it starts a compressed-air engine supplied with air stored at high pressure within the torpedo, and will run several thousand yards under its own power.

A later device, called the Fessenden oscillator, will transmit or receive sounds a distance of twenty miles. The principle of its operation is that of setting up wave vibrations by very large transmitters; these vibrations are carried by the water and taken up by receivers on other submarines. It has been found that the human voice will set up vibrations in the Fessenden transmitter so clearly that wireless conversation may be carried on under water for several hundred yards. I discovered in my earlier experiments that when a submarine was lying submerged, with all machinery shut down, the noise of the machinery in an approaching ship could be detected quite a distance off without the use of any special kind of receivers. In this way the commander of a submarine can always note the approach of an enemy simply by shutting down his own machinery. The warning thus given him comes long before he could sight the enemy ship were he on the surface. After a little experience one can tell the type of ship approaching from the sound, as every type of ship has sounds peculiar to her class. The smash of paddle wheels, the deep, slow pound of the heavy merchant ships or battleships, the clack and the whir of the higher speed machinery on destroyers or torpedo boats, are all easily recognizable when one becomes familiar with them. At the present time all the larger submarines are fitted with wireless outfits on their decks which they may use when on the surface to communicate with other submarines or with their base.

Torpedo Tubes.—These are used to start the automobile torpedo on its course toward the enemy. In simple form they are tubes about eighteen inches in diameter and seventeen feet long, placed in line with the axis of the vessel. They are fitted with doors both internal and external to the submarine. The inboard door of the tube opens into the interior of the vessel and permits the loading of the torpedo. When the torpedo is to be discharged the inboard door is closed and securely fastened. The outer door is then opened, and through the operation of quick-opening valves compressed air is admitted back of the torpedo and the torpedo is driven out of the tube in the same manner that the bullet is driven out of an air rifle or the cork out of a pop-gun. Some of the larger modern submarines carry several torpedo tubes firing in line with the axis of the vessel both forward and aft. Some carry torpedo tubes on their decks which may be made to train to fire broadside on either side of the vessel.

A WHITEHEAD TORPEDO

Courtesy of the Scientific American

The forward end of the torpedo is the war head filled with guncotton or trinitrotoluol. A detonator is screwed into the end of the war head to set off the main charge on contact. An air flask forms the middle portion of the torpedo. Aft of this is the depth-control mechanism, in which a diaphragm controls the diving rudder by the pressure of the water against a spring set for the desired depth. A pendulum controls the levelling mechanism and a gyroscope its direction in the horizontal plane, tending to keep it on the course by its control of the vertical rudder.

REAR END OF THE WHITEHEAD TORPEDO

Courtesy of the Scientific American

Showing compressed air engine and twin propeller with their control gear.

Automobile Torpedoes.—These are the projectiles which are used to destroy the enemy's ship. They are called automobile torpedoes because they will, on being ejected from the torpedo tubes, continue running in the direction in which they are aimed, from power and mechanism contained within themselves. They are wonderful pieces of mechanism and cost several thousand dollars each. They are virtually miniature submarine boats. The essential features of the automobile torpedo are the airflask, the warhead, the depth control, and steering and propelling machinery. The airflask forms the central section, which is a steel tank containing compressed air stored at high pressure; about twenty-five hundred pounds per square inch is the present practice. When the torpedo is expelled from the torpedo tube this air is automatically turned on to run the engines. It passes through reducing valves and heaters to drive either a multiple cylinder or a turbine engine, and revolves two propellers, running one clockwise and the other counterclockwise, set in tandem at the stern of the torpedo. The propellers, running in opposite directions, thus enable the torpedo to be more easily steered by the delicate automatic steering machinery. A diaphragm operated by the pressure of the water operates control mechanism which regulates the depth. An instrument called the "Obry gear" steers it in the horizontal plane. The essential feature of the "Obry gear" is a gyroscope which is started when the torpedo is ejected from the tube. It is instantly speeded up either by a powerful spring or an air turbine to about fifteen thousand revolutions per minute. The peculiarity of the gyroscope is that it has a tendency to hold the direction in which it is started. Hence, if the torpedo starts swerving either to the right or left from the direction in which it is aimed, the gyroscope causes certain valves to function which will automatically set the steering rudder to bring the torpedo back into its original course. The "Gyro" will continue this control until the torpedo has completed its course, which in some of the latest types is said to be about five miles.

The warhead is the forward portion of the torpedo and contains usually wet gun-cotton, which is a safe high explosive and can be exploded only by a detonating charge of the more sensitive explosives. This detonating charge is placed in a tube screwed into the forward end of the torpedo. Extending out from the forward end of the tube is a small propeller, the purpose of which is to set the firing mechanism after the torpedo has run a certain distance from the vessel from which it has been fired. This is a safety device to prevent the torpedo from being exploded near its own ship. The torpedo running through the water causes the propeller to revolve, which turns a shaft. After the shaft makes a certain number of revolutions it sets a firing pin, and then if it hits an object it will explode. Many modern torpedoes are loaded with trinitrotoluol. This is a much more powerful explosive. According to experts, the explosion of two hundred and fifty pounds of T-N-T, as it is called, will destroy any battleship ever built.

RAPID-FIRING GUNS

Courtesy of the Scientific American

Rapid-fire disappearing guns may be quickly elevated above armored turret when the submarine rises to the surface.

Divers' Compartment.—Some submarines are fitted with a divers' compartment, from which compartment mines may be planted, either when on the surface or when submerged. This compartment is fitted with a door which opens outwardly in the bottom of the boat. It is shut off from the living and machinery rooms of the vessel by an air lock and heavy pressure-resisting doors. The divers' door may be opened when the vessel is submerged and navigating on the bottom, and no water will come into the vessel when the door is opened. This is accomplished in the following manner: The members of the crew who wish to go outside the vessel first go into the diving compartment. They close the door which shuts them off from other parts of the vessel. They then turn compressed air gradually into the compartment until the air pressure in the compartment equals the water pressure outside. If the depth is one hundred feet the air pressure in the compartment would need to be 43.4 pounds per square inch; if the depth is two hundred feet, twice that, or 86.8 pounds per square inch, etc. When the air pressure in the compartment equals the water pressure outside, at any depth, the door in the bottom may be opened and the water will not rise up into the compartment, because the air pressure keeps it out. Tests have been made which show that it is safe for divers to go out from compartments of this kind in depths up to two hundred and seventy-five feet.

DIVING COMPARTMENT

This view shows the diving compartment being used for the purpose of grappling for the electric cables controlling fields of submarine mines. Operating in this manner, the diving compartment becomes a veritable travelling diving-bell, and when the air pressure in the diving chamber is made to balance with the water pressure outside the diving door may be opened and yet the water will not enter the working chamber.

Dangers.—Years of painstaking development work have eliminated most of the dangers connected with the operation of submarines in times of peace. The experienced designers have learned the importance of having great submerged stability, so that no modern craft is likely to make an unexpected headfirst dive into the mud, hard sand, or rocks on the bottom. This was a common occurrence not many years ago. Another danger to be avoided is that of asphyxiation by the escape of noxious gases from the engines. The blowing up of the vessel by the ignition of hydrogen fumes from the battery is another risk to be guarded against. In the latest vessels the noxious gases from the engine are not permitted to escape into the engine-room; gasolene is rapidly giving place to heavy-oil engines which do not use an explosive fuel, and the hydrogen gas given off during the charging of batteries is pumped overboard as rapidly as it is generated. Consequently modern submarines, when navigating on the surface, are as safe as any surface ship. In fact, they are safer, from the fact that they are so much more strongly built and that they are divided into compartments. Any one of these compartments could be filled by water in an accident and the remaining compartments would keep the ship afloat. In submerged peace-time navigation the dangers are those of collisions with surface vessels, uncharted rocks, or sunken ships. The danger of collisions with surface ships may be avoided by keeping below the depth of keel of the deepest draft surface ship, when long under-water runs are being made, and always stopping machinery to listen for the sound of surface ships before rising to the surface. If running near the surface where periscopic vision is possible, constant vigilance must be maintained, as there are no rules of the road or right of way which may be claimed by the submarine commander, owing to the fact that the lookout on the surface craft, in all probability, cannot see his little periscope in time to avoid collision.

A MODERN SUBMARINE CRUISER, OR FLEET SUBMARINE (LAKE TYPE)

The parts indicated by numbers in this illustration are as follows: 1, main ballast tanks; 2, fuel tanks; 3, keel; 4, safety drop keel; 5, habitable superstructure; 6, escape and safety chambers; 7, disappearing anti-aircraft guns; 8, rapid-fire gun; 9, torpedo tubes; 10 torpedoes; 11, twin deck torpedo tubes; 12, torpedo firing tank; 13, anchor; 14, periscopes; 15, wireless; 16, crew's quarters; 17, officers' quarters; 18, warhead stowage; 19, torpedo hatch; 20, diving chamber; 21, electric storage battery; 22, galley; 23, steering gear; 24, binnacle; 25, searchlight; 26, conning tower; 27, diving station; 28, control tank; 29, compressed-air flasks; 30, forward engine room and engines; 31, after engine room and engines; 32, central control compartment; 33, torpedo room; 34, electric motor room; 35, switchboard; 36, ballast pump; 37, auxiliary machinery room; 38, hydroplane; 39, vertical rudders; 40, signal masts.

How the Submarine Works.—Reference to the diagrammatic view of a modern submarine will probably make clear the following explanation of the operation of a submarine. We will assume that our submarine leaves her own harbor with fuel, stores, and torpedoes on board, wireless and signal masts erected. She is bound to a station farther down the coast, but receives word by wireless that an enemy fleet has been seen approaching the coast in such a direction as to indicate an attack on New York. She receives instructions to return and take up a station fifteen miles off Sandy Hook, the entrance to New York Harbor, and also that she is to coöperate with the smaller harbor-defense submarines that are permanently located in New York. She therefore puts back to the station designated. All deck fittings and lines are stowed except the ventilators and the deck wireless outfit; the latter is left standing so as to keep in touch with the scout ships and destroyers which are reporting the approach of the enemy. Shortly after arriving at her station, the commander notes smoke on the horizon and orders are given to "prepare to submerge." Each member of the crew then proceeds to his particular task; the wireless masts and ventilators are quickly housed, and all hatches are closed and secured. The quartermaster and submerged-control man who controls the steering and hydroplane operating gear take their stations in the control department. The engines are uncoupled by means of the rapid operating clutch, the electric motor is coupled, the hydroplanes are unfolded, the valves are opened, and the word is passed to the commander, "All ready for submergence!" All this is done in a modern vessel in less than two minutes.

The command is then given: "Fill main ballast!" Quick-opening valves are opened and the water rushes into the ballast tanks and superstructure at the rate of fifty or sixty tons per minute. The order is then given: "Trim for submergence!" Sufficient water is then admitted into the final adjustment and trim tank to give the desired buoyancy and trim, and the vessel is now ready to submerge on signal from the commander, who now takes his station at the periscope. The gunners have also taken their stations at the torpedo tubes to prepare to load the tubes as soon as the torpedoes already in the tubes are discharged. The whole time consumed from the time word to "prepare to submerge" until the vessel is running under water has probably not been over two or three minutes. In the meantime the enemy has been rapidly approaching and her superstructure is already above the horizon. The commander of the submarine notes that if the enemy holds its course it will be advantageous to change his position to intercept the oncoming fleet. He therefore gives word to submerge to the desired depth and gives the quartermaster the course, and the vessel proceeds, entirely submerged, to get nearer the enemy's line of approach. The commander then brings his submarine to rest before extending his periscope above the surface. As soon as the enemy is found to be coming within range he manœuvres his ship so that his torpedoes will bear the proper distance in advance of the ship he selects to destroy. To make a hit it is necessary to fire in advance of the oncoming ship to allow for the time the torpedo takes to reach the point where the enemy will be. Range finders, torpedo directors, and rapid calculators enable the commander to calculate this to a nicety. If the distance is only a thousand or fifteen hundred yards, a hit is pretty certain to be made, but the greater the distance the less the chance of success and the greater the opportunity for error.

[CHAPTER II]

COMEDY AND TRAGEDY IN SUBMARINE DEVELOPMENT

One of the first queries which laymen usually direct at the submarine navigator is, "Are you not afraid that the boat will never come up?" and other variants on the same theme. Most people are surprised and many are very sceptical when they are informed that there is no sensation at all connected with the act of going under water in a boat except that due to one's own imagination. The fact is that if one were going down inside the vessel in some of the modern submarines he could not readily tell whether the vessel was running on the surface or navigating in a submerged condition.

I remember the time when it was first decided to give a public exhibition of the Argonaut in 1897. Various newspapers were permitted to send their representatives to make a submerged trip in the vessel. Quite a large number of newspaper men were present, and among the reporters was one young lady representing a New York newspaper. This being the first time that the newspaper fraternity had been given the opportunity to make a submarine trip, speculation ran rife as to the outcome of the venture. So great a number of reporters came that all could not be permitted to board the vessel. Lots were therefore cast as to who should go. The lady claimed the privilege of her sex, and all agreed that she should be one of the party. When the lots were drawn, one of those who had drawn a lucky number suddenly recalled that he was afflicted with a very diseased heart, and he did not feel it wise to go. Another discovered that his life insurance had just expired, and he gave up his opportunity to a friend. Finally the party was made up and the boat started away from the dock. They were all invited down into the cabin, where a general conversation ensued as to the possibilities of submarine navigation proving a success, upon the sensation of going under water, and other related subjects; I had given the signal to submerge, in the meantime, several minutes before they had finished visiting with each other. Soon one of them asked me when I expected to submerge. They were all greatly surprised when I informed them that we had already been under water for several minutes, and they would hardly believe it until I took them into the conning tower, where they could see the dark green of the water through the glass of the eye-ports. Two of the party promptly discovered that they had each a bottle of champagne concealed about their persons. It was their opinion that it was time to drink to the health of the lady and to the success of the Argonaut. After we had rummaged around and finally found an old rusty tin cup, this was done.

All first experiences, however, have not been so pleasant as that of the Argonaut's trial. The submarine Hunley (page 150) suffocated and drowned four different crews during her brief career. Twice she was found standing on end with her bow stuck in the mud in the bottom of the river, with a crew of nine men dead in her fore part, where they had been thrown when she dived to the bottom. In these two instances the men were suffocated, due to lack of air, as no water was found in the boat when she was raised. The gradual exhaustion of the air and final unconsciousness which overtook these brave volunteers can only be left to the imagination.

When experimenting with the Argonaut, I received a visit from the late Col. Charles H. Hasker, of Richmond, Va. He had volunteered as one of the party to try the Hunley after she had suffocated her second crew. On the trial, for which Mr. Hasker volunteered, she started away from the dock in tow of the gunboat Ettawan by a line thrown over the hatch combing. She had been trimmed down so that she had very little freeboard, and as she gained headway she started to "shear," due to her peculiar flatiron-shaped bow. Lieutenant Payne, who was in command, attempted to throw the towline off the hatch combing, but got caught in the bight of the line. On his struggle to free himself he knocked a prop from under the tiller of the horizontal diving rudder, which had been set to hold the bow up. As soon as the prop was knocked out the tiller dropped down and inclined the horizontal rudder to dive, and the vessel dove with her hatches open. Lieutenant Payne freed himself, and Colonel Hasker managed to get partly out of one of the hatches before the vessel sank, but the inrushing force of the water closed the hatch door, which caught him by the calf of his leg, and he was carried with the vessel to the bottom in forty-two feet of water. However, he maintained his presence of mind, and when the vessel became full it balanced the pressure so that he could release himself from the hatch cover. He was a good swimmer and escaped to the surface. Two men escaped from the other hatch. The other five members of the crew were drowned in the vessel.

Notwithstanding that this was the third time she had sunk and killed a number of men, she was again raised and a crew of nine other brave men was found to man her. Under command of Lieutenant Dixon, on the night of February 17, 1864, she was brought alongside of the United States battleship Housatonic and sank her, but Lieutenant Dixon and his crew went down with the Hunley at the same time. Thus, in the various attempts to operate this vessel in a submerged condition, a total of thirty-two lives were lost.

The New Orleans submarine boat was also built by the Confederates during the Civil War. A friend who took the photograph of this vessel told me the following story as related to him by a Southern gentleman who was familiar with the history of the boat. It appears that this submarine was the conception of a wealthy planter who owned a number of slaves. He thought that it would add considerable interest to the occasion of her launching if, when the vessel left the ways, she should disappear beneath the waves and make a short run beneath the surface before coming up. So he took two of his most intelligent slaves and instructed them how to hold the tiller when the vessel slid down the ways, and in which way to turn the propeller for a time after she began to lose her launched speed. He told them when they got ready to come up they should push the tiller down and the vessel would come to the surface to be towed ashore.

A great crowd assembled to see this novel launching. "When things were all ready," said the old Southern gentleman, "sure enough, them two niggers got into the boat and shut down the hatches; and do you know, suh, that at that time them niggers was worth a thousand dollars apiece." Well, it seems that the boat slid down the ways and disappeared under the water just as had been planned. The crowd waited expectantly, but the vessel did not reappear. Eventually they got into boats and put out hooks and grappling lines, but she could not be found. The designer of the craft stated as his opinion that "he might have known better than to trust them pesky niggers anyway," and he was willing to bet that they had taken the opportunity to steal the vessel and run away. He asserted that very likely they would take the boat up North and give it to the Yankees, and that they could expect to hear of the "Yanks" using it to blow up some of their own (Confederate) ships.

Her disappearance remained a mystery for a great many years—until long after the war closed, in fact, and the incident had been forgotten. Years afterward, during some dredging operations to deepen the harbor, the dredge buckets one day got hold of something they could not lift. A diver was sent down to investigate, and he reported that there was some metal object buried in the mud which looked like a steam boiler. They set to work to raise this, and putting chains around it they lifted it on to the wharf. The old gentleman, in closing the narrative, remarked, "And do you know, suh, when they opened the hatch them two blamed niggers was still in thar, but they warn't wuth a damned cent."

One amusing experience that I had occurred in the Chesapeake Bay in 1898, a few miles below the Potomac River. We were bound from Baltimore to Hampton Roads, and a part of the journey was made on the bottom of the bay. We found this exceedingly interesting, as we could sit in the divers' compartment and view, through the open divers' door, the various kinds of bottom we were passing over, rake up oysters and clams, catch crabs with a crab net, and amuse ourselves in trying to spear fish.

The Argonaut at this time had a double pipe mast fifty feet in height, through one of which we got air to run our engines. The other was to provide for the exhaust. We carried a red flag on top of this mast as a warning to surface vessels to keep clear. One afternoon we had been submerged about four hours, running on the bottom in depths varying from twenty-five to forty-five feet; night coming on, we decided to come up and seek a harbor. When we came to the surface we noticed a "bugeye" (a small schooner) "hove to" about fifty yards to the leeward. I blew the centre tank, which brought our conning tower up out of the water, opened the hatch, and hailed the skipper of the bugeye to ask our location and the nearest harbor. He did not wait to answer, but as soon as I yelled he squared away "wing and wing" for the shore. As there was a stiff breeze blowing, it did not take him long to make it, and he ran his vessel right up on the sandy beach, where we saw him and another man—who composed the crew—clamber out over the bow and start to run inland as fast as they could go, leaving their boat without so much as lowering their sails. We finally located ourselves as just north of the mouth of the Rappahannock River, and saw that there was a good harbor very near, so we put in there for the night. After supper, as we were in need of fresh provisions, we went ashore and learned that there was a store a couple of miles down the peninsula. We walked down there and found the store full of natives who were obviously curious as to our identity and business. Finally the storekeeper gathered up his courage and asked us who we were. When he learned that we were down on an experimental cruise in the submarine boat Argonaut, he burst into laughter and told us that we had solved a mystery which had stirred up the entire community. He then explained that just about dark one of his neighbors, who never had been known to drink and whose reputation for veracity was excellent, had rushed into the store, followed by his mate. Both were pale from fright, and sank on the porch completely exhausted. They then related a weird tale of seeing a red flag moving down the bay against the current on a buoy. When they went alongside of it they heard a "puff-puff" like a locomotive—that was the exhaust from our engine coming up out of the pipe—and, furthermore, they stated that they had smelt sulphur distinctly. Just then, they claimed, the buoy commenced to rise up and a smokestack—our conning tower—came up out of the water and "out stepped the devil"—myself, who at that time had on a rather brilliant red cap. Then they had "moseyed" for shore as fast as they could go. The storekeeper said that they had put the honorable captain to bed, and implied that he would be "right smart mad" when he learned how he had deceived himself. We went back to our boat and got an early start in the morning, as we did not know but that the "guying" of his neighbors might "rile" the captain considerably—and these Virginians are usually pretty good rifle shots.

One of the greatest dangers in submarine navigation is that of being run down by surface vessels when the submarine comes to the surface after a deep submergence. I mean by a deep submergence when the vessel goes down so far that the water covers the top of her periscope and the commander gets out of touch with surface vessels. All submarine commanders have probably had narrow escapes from this danger; it is one of the chances that go with the business. I myself have had several very close calls. The first was with the Protector manœuvring in rough weather in Long Island Sound off Bridgeport in 1903. The weather was exceedingly rough, the wind blowing a halfgale and blowing the spume from the white-caps into spray. Some of our directors were in a large towboat at anchor and we were manœuvring in their vicinity, running back and forth, submerging, etc., so that they might observe how steadily she could run in a rough sea. Finally, upon submerging, we observed a sloop in distress; part of her rigging had been carried away, and she was half full of water. The sea had broken the cabin windows and she was on the verge of sinking. We observed this through the periscope, so we came up and got a line to her and took her into Bridgeport. There were several young men aboard her, and when they first saw us standing on our conning tower they thought we also had been wrecked and were on top of a buoy.

As the Protector had functioned beautifully and we had in addition saved a shipwrecked crew, I felt quite proud of the day's performance, and was greatly surprised, therefore, when I reported to the directors, who had preceded us into the harbor, to have one of them "call me down" for taking such a foolhardy chance in submerging just in front of the steamer Bridgeport. He was astonished when I told him that I had never seen the steamer, and then he informed me that I had submerged just under her bow, and as she was going very fast they all expected us to be hit. The white-caps and spray had prevented us from seeing the steamer, as our periscope was a short one and only gave us intermittent views in the rough water. I was curious to learn whether the captain of the steamer had seen us, but I was told by him that he had not. The rough water had prevented the captain from seeing the wake of our periscope, just as it had made it impossible for us to catch a sight of his vessel.

At another time of close escape I was in the channel leading from the Gulf of Finland into Cronstadt, Russia.

We were requested to conduct some manœuvres for the purpose of familiarizing the Russian officers and crew with the method of handling the boat. Admiral Rodjevensky's fleet was outfitting off Cronstadt, preparing to start for the Orient. As the officers of the battle squadron had never seen a submarine in operation, we were requested to conduct our manœuvres in their vicinity. One of the high Russian admirals, whom I afterward met at the officers' club in Cronstadt, said to me: "Mr. Lake, I do not like your submarine boat. One can never tell where it is going to bob up, and I think if you were my enemy I should slip my anchor and run." After manœuvring around the fleet at anchor we took a run out in the channel. Captain Alexander Gadd, the officer who was to command the Protector, was in the sighting hood. Our periscope had gone "blind" because one of the crew did not make up a joint properly. Water had entered and dropped on the lower prism, which destroyed our ability to see. We were anxious, however, to continue our manœuvres, and Captain Gadd had volunteered to "con" the vessel from the sighting hood and give us our steering directions. We were thus able to make submergences of short duration. In leaving the port we appeared to have a clear passageway down the channel. After running for a few minutes we brought the sighting hood above the surface, upon which Captain Gadd became very much excited and cried out in German—which I had no difficulty in understanding—that a big ship was coming right toward us. I was puzzled to know what to do, so I pulled the commander away from the sighting hood, got a look myself, and discovered a big white ship headed directly for us. The only thing to do under the circumstances was to blow the centre tank, give the signal to back up, and to blow our whistle, as there was hardly sufficient time to turn out of our course. Blowing the centre tank relieved us very quickly of sufficient water to bring the conning tower above the surface. Fortunately we were observed, and both vessels reversed and went full speed astern, thus preventing a collision which only could have been disastrous to us, because, as there was not sufficient depth of water in the channel to permit the large ship to pass over us, the small boat would have been crushed like an egg-shell. By looking at the chart I saw that we had sufficient water on either side of the main channel to carry on our work of instructing the crew, so I instructed the quartermaster, in English, to change his course. Captain Gadd, not understanding English, was not aware that I had changed the course, and I did not know that mines had been planted for the defense of Cronstadt and Admiral Rodjevensky's fleet, so the next time we came to the surface Captain Gadd once more became very much excited, finally making me understand that we were in a mine field. It seems that the Russians feared the Japanese might by hook or crook, during the night or at a time of fog, which at that time of the year occurred frequently, get hold of some vessel, equip her with torpedoes, and make a raid on the fleet at anchor. Consequently they had mined all except the principal channel, which could be watched. We immediately stopped the Protector, blew tanks, and proceeded with caution back to the main channel and returned to Cronstadt. I felt that we had had sufficient manœuvres for that day at least.

Another experience which came very close to a tragedy was brought about by the spirit of mischief of one of the trial officers while conducting the official trials of the Protector in the Gulf of Finland. One of the trial conditions set by the Russian Government was that we were to be able to run the Protector under her engine with her decks submerged and conning tower awash, I standing in the open hatchway with the Protector running under these conditions, ready for instant submergence, her conning tower being held above the surface by setting her hydroplanes up. By pulling the hatch cover down and inclining the hydroplanes downward the vessel could be almost instantly submerged—submergence not occupying over fifteen seconds. I had so much confidence in the safety of the Protector running in this condition that I did not hesitate to leave the depth-control mechanism for considerable periods of time.

During this official trial in the Gulf of Finland we ran through a school of small fish, and, leaving the hydroplane control gear, I went out upon the deck of the conning tower and watched the fish, which could be plainly seen as the Protector passed through them. At this time there was about three feet of water over the decks, and the deck of the conning tower was about a foot or eighteen inches out of the water. All at once the Protector started to go down. I jumped down inside the conning tower, pulling the hatch after me, and I am free to confess that my hair stood on end. I then observed that the Protector had gone back to her normal condition, and saw at the same time that the senior Russian officer, a very tall man who had to stand in a stooping position in the conning tower, was shaking with laughter. Captain Gadd then explained to me that the other officer—I shall not mention his name, because he is now a high admiral—had "set" the hydroplanes a little down for the purpose of seeing if he could frighten me. He frightened me all right, and I assure you that I never ran the Protector afterward in that condition, because I came to the conclusion that, while it might be possible to make a submarine fool-proof, one could never make reasonable calculations which would eliminate danger from the actions of the practical joker. It was only a few weeks after this incident that I read the account of the A-8, one of the diving type of boats in the British Navy, making the fatal dive when running on the surface with the hatch open, even though she had, according to the testimony of the officer, who was standing on the top of the conning tower at the time she went down—and drowned her crew—as much as six or eight tons reserve of buoyancy.

Some of the early boats of the diving type were fitted with fixed periscopes through which one could see in one direction only, and that straight ahead, and with a limited field of vision. In order to get a complete view of the horizon it was therefore necessary for the commander of a vessel equipped in this way to turn the boat completely around. This was the cause of the first serious accident and loss of life in the British submarines of the A type. The A-1, running in the English Channel with her periscope extended above the surface, did not see a steamer following her at a speed exceeding her own; the lookout of the steamer did not see the periscope, and ran the A-1 down, drowning her entire crew. The foolishness of having a periscope that could see in one direction only was demonstrated by some of the officers in the Austrian Navy. Our company had built the first two boats for the Austrian Government, U-1 and U-2. Another type of boat had been built later which had only a fixed periscope of the type described. One day, when this submarine was running along with her periscope above the surface, which gave her commander no vision back of him, some officers approached in a speedy little launch and left their cards tied to the periscope without the knowledge of the commander of the submerged vessel. This demonstrated perfectly that it is essential, both in war and peace times, for the commander of the submarine to know what is going on in his vicinity on the surface. With the noise of machinery running it was difficult in the early boats for the commander to tell whether there was any other power boat in the vicinity of the submarine. That fact led to the practice of running mostly with the periscope above the surface, and eventually to the introduction of two periscopes, one to con the course of the ship and the other to keep watch of the surrounding water to see that other ships do not approach the submarine unawares. That is now the usual practice in peace-time manœuvres.

At Hampton Roads, on one occasion, after a submarine run, we came up under a small launch and picked her up bodily on the deck. We had not seen the boat until we heard her bump against the conning tower and heard some of the ladies scream. We submerged quickly and lowered them into the water again. Another time we came up under a large barge, but all the damage incurred was a broken flagstaff. The best mode of procedure at such times is to bring the vessel to rest while submerged and stop all machinery, then listen for the sound of the machinery of surface vessels. These noises can be heard for a considerable distance under water. If no sound is heard it is then safe to come up. Even in this case there is some possibility of coming up under or just in front of a sailing vessel. One has to take some chances, and I do not consider this taking any greater chance than is taken by the navigator of a surface vessel in running in a fog or in a snow storm.

The question of air supply was at one time one of the most difficult problems to solve on paper with which early experimenters with submarines had to contend. There was no exception in my case. I thought it would be possible to remain submerged only a short time unless I provided some sort of apparatus to extract the carbonic acid gas and restore oxygen to the air after breathing and exhaling the air in an enclosed space like a submerged vessel. I took up the question with various physicians and with a professor of physiology at Johns Hopkins University, and, according to their information and text-books, it would be a very difficult matter to carry sufficient air to remain submerged without change of air except for a very short time. Their text-books stated the quantity of free air that should be allowed per individual. This varied from fifteen hundred to three thousand cubic feet of air per individual per hour. It would be impossible to provide this amount of air in a submarine. What it was essential to discover was how little air a man could live on without suffering ill effects. I then built a box containing twenty-seven cubic feet of air space. I entered this and was hermetically sealed within it. At fifteen-minute intervals I lighted matches to note how freely they would burn. At the expiration of three-quarters of an hour the matches still burned brilliantly at the top of the box, but went out when lowered to about the level of my waist. This indicated that about one-half of the oxygen had been consumed and converted into carbonic acid gas. I was surprised to find how distinctly the line was drawn between the air containing oxygen and that containing the heavier carbonic acid gas. I concluded from this experiment that from fifteen to twenty cubic feet of air per individual per hour was sufficient to maintain life for short periods of time without injury.

On completing the Argonaut in 1897 we amplified these experiments, five men remaining hermetically sealed in the Argonaut for a period of five hours without admitting any air from our air storage tanks, and later on in the Protector eight men remained submerged for twenty-four hours, no fresh air being admitted during the first twenty hours. As the volume of air space in the Protector was about three thousand cubic feet, this averaged about eighteen cubic feet per man per hour. Without the definite knowledge of my previous box experiment it is very doubtful if the crew would have consented to remain submerged so long without renewing the air supply, so great is the effect of imagination.

In our first test to determine a practical time of submergence in 1897 we had been submerged for nearly two hours when I noticed some members of the crew showing signs of distress. After a time they got together in the after part of the boat and appointed a spokesman, who came to me and asked if I had not noticed that breathing had become very difficult. They urged that we should go up immediately. By this time two of the men were breathing with evident exertion, and beads of perspiration were on their faces. I told them they were suffering from imagination, and explained my experiment with the box. I then took a candle and proved to them that it burned freely in all parts of the boat. We measured the height of the candle flame at the floor of the boat and found it one and five-eighths inches high. In the twenty-four hours' test on the Protector the men became frightened in the same way, but after an explanation had been made and the candle demonstration had been shown them they lost their fear and in a few minutes all were breathing as normally as ever.

I have always had some little sympathy for the sensations or fears which those without a knowledge of natural physics might experience on going down into the water; but I have had little sympathy for those who by their education should know and understand the principles of submarine navigation, when operating with a properly designed boat with an experienced crew.

Now, one of the features which the Argonaut possessed, which was new in its application to submarine boats at that time, was the use of a diving compartment and air-lock connected with the main hull of the vessel, which would permit divers to leave the vessel when submerged by opening a door in the bottom of this diving compartment after first filling the compartment with compressed air corresponding to the pressure of the water outside of the vessel, which varies in accordance with the depth of submergence.

Every schoolboy is taught the principle of the diving bell, which can be illustrated by the use of a tumbler or glass. If a tumbler is turned upside down and forced into water, the water will not rise to fill the tumbler, owing to the fact that the air, being the lighter, will remain in the tumbler and the water will simply rise, compressing the air to the same pressure per square inch as the pressure surrounding it. Now if you push a tumbler down into the water a distance of thirty-four feet the tumbler would be about one-half full of water and one-half full of air, which corresponds to one atmosphere in pressure. Now if an additional tumbler full of air was compressed to the same pressure and released in that tumbler it would force the water out, and there would be a double volume, or two atmospheres of air, in the tumbler, or just twice what there would be on the surface and under normal atmospheric pressure. This is the principle on which the diving compartment in the Lake type boat operates, it being only necessary to admit air into the diving compartment until the pressure equals the outside water pressure; then a door opening outwardly from the bottom may be opened to permit ready egress or ingress, and so long as the air pressure is maintained no water will rise in the boat.

A professor of physics in the University of Pennsylvania visited the Argonaut in Baltimore during some early experiments with her, and in discussing the features of the diving compartment with which, from his position as a professor of natural physics, he should have been entirely familiar, expressed some doubt as to its practicability. He said he understood the theory of it all right, but thought there might be some difficulty in carrying it out in a practical way as I had explained. I invited him into the diving compartment and told him that I would submerge the boat and open the door for him for his benefit, so that he could explain to his students that he had actually seen it done. He turned pale and said, "Oh, no; I would not put you to that trouble for the world"; but by that time I had the heavy iron door closed between the diving compartment and the main hull, and had already started to raise the pressure of the air in the compartment, and assured him that it was not the least trouble in the world; on the contrary, it was a great pleasure. By this time beads of perspiration were standing on his face. When one undergoes air pressure for the first time considerable pain is ofttimes experienced in the ears, due to the pressure on the Eustachian tubes and ear-drums not becoming equalized. To equalize this pressure it is necessary for divers or those undergoing pressure to go through the movement of swallowing, which has a tendency to relieve the unequal pressure and stop the pain. I noticed that the professor was experiencing quite a little pain and consequently told him to swallow, and it was really amusing to see the rapidity with which he worked his "Adam's apple" up and down. He then asked if there was any danger. I answered him that there was none, except to those who were troubled with heart-disease. He immediately put his hand up over his heart and said, "Well, my heart is quite seriously affected," but by that time we had secured the necessary pressure to enable me to open the diving door at the bottom, so I released the "locking dogs" and allowed the door to open, and when he saw the water did not come in, his face cleared and he said, "Well, you know I never would have believed it if I had not seen it," and then he added that he would not have missed seeing it for the world.

Another interesting incident in connection with undergoing pressure occurred while at Hampton Roads, Va. One day I received a visit from a professor of mathematics and his wife at the Hampton Institute, each of whom held a professorship in the college. They stated that the Argonaut had been discussed before the faculty and that they would like very much to go down in her and see the diving door opened, which I was very glad to show them. Just previous to going into the diving compartment Professor S—— explained to me that his wife was deaf in one ear, that she had been under a physician's care for about two years, and he wanted to know if undergoing pressure was likely to have an injurious effect upon her. Not being a physician or knowing what might occur, I advised against her undergoing pressure; but she insisted on going into the compartment, promising that if she felt any ill effect from the air pressure she would tell me and I could let her out. I was reluctant to have her go in, and when we entered the compartment I allowed the air to come in very slowly, in the meantime giving a general description of the vessel, and occupying as long a time in the procedure as possible. I noticed almost at once that she was in pain. Although she turned her back to me, I could tell by her clenched jaws and hands that she was probably suffering agony. I then stopped the pressure and suggested to the professor that he had better let his wife go out, but through clenched teeth she still protested, "No, go ahead; I can stand it!" Finally we got the pressure on and opened the door, but, while the professor seemed delighted, his wife made no remark. She simply stood with her hands clenched and I was afraid she was going to faint. Then all at once she screamed; but immediately after her face lighted up with a smile and she exclaimed, "It is all gone!" When she came out of the compartment, after the experiment was over, I noticed her put her hand up to one ear, and she said to her husband, "Do you know, I can hear as plainly out of that ear as I ever could!" About a year afterward I saw Professor S—— and he told me that apparently the experiment had cured his wife of deafness where physicians had failed to help her; that to date it had never returned, and that she could hear as well as she had ever heard. In discussing this matter with an ear specialist some time afterward, he explained to me that the lady had probably been suffering with a disease which caused the small bones connected with the ear-drum to freeze fast, so that the ear-drum did not vibrate. He stated that it is a very common cause of deafness and can seldom be cured; that the bringing of the uneven pressure on the Eustachian tube or other parts had broken away the secretion which had cemented these small bones together and permitted the ear-drum to vibrate as it should, and probably that was the only way in which she could have been helped. I am publishing this incident in the hope that it may lead to the construction of scientific apparatus for the cure of deafness in cases where the deafness is caused by trouble similar to that of the professor's wife.

After our experiments with the Argonaut in the Chesapeake Bay and on the Atlantic coast, she was enlarged and otherwise improved and in the winter of 1899 I brought her to Bridgeport, Connecticut, which offered excellent harbor conveniences and deep water, as well as providing the necessary manufacturing facilities for continuing my experimental work.

While there the request was made of me to let some of the newspaper people and some prominent men of the town witness her trials; I therefore invited them to take a trip out into the Sound. I remember that we extended in all twenty-eight invitations to the Mayor, to the press, and to some other prominent citizens, expecting that perhaps three or four of the number would accept. Very much to my surprise, twenty-nine appeared, and only one of those who had received the invitation failed to come, while two others brought their friends with them. Among the number was John J. Fisher, at that time quite a noted singer for the American Graphophone Company. I had planned to cook and serve a dinner for the party on board, and we intended to be back about two o'clock in the afternoon, but when we got out on the bottom of the Sound all the different members of the party wanted to see the bottom, so we travelled out over some oyster beds and clam beds and I opened the diving door and let the party all see the bottom of the Sound and pick up clams and "jingle" shells, in depths varying from twenty-four to thirty-odd feet, while running along the bottom. The air-lock was small and we could take only two at a time through it into the diving compartment. In the meantime a meal had been cooked for the others and served. Mr. Fisher amused the company by singing "Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep" and other songs appropriate to the occasion.

We did not arrive at Bridgeport until after four o'clock, and then found the wharf black with an excited populace, largely composed of friends of those who had taken the trip. Tugboats had been engaged, and the editor of one of the afternoon papers gave me a very severe "dressing down" for having kept the party out so long, as the whole city was excited and every one feared that we had been lost. The afternoon editions of the papers had all been held up awaiting our return, and the editor of the paper in question informed me that they were just telegraphing New York for a wrecking outfit to come and raise us, as they had sent a tugboat out and the captain had reported that we were submerged off Stratford Point Light and that our red flag, which extended from the top of the mast, was above water, but that we were not moving at that time and hence they thought that all hands must have perished.

Working under water from a submarine boat is very interesting work. The Argonaut was built with the idea of demonstrating the practicability of conducting explorations under water, locating and recovering beds of shellfish, in addition to locating and recovering wrecks and their cargoes. This line of work is the most interesting of the submarine work in which I have been engaged, and offers, in my judgment, great opportunities for the benefit of the human race. A submarine boat is a rather expensive craft, however, for conducting such operations, and there are certain disadvantages in operating around wrecks in a submarine without any surface connections, as there is always a possibility of the vessel becoming entangled in the wreckage of the sunken ship. I remember in one case we had located a sunken wreck and had gone down alongside of her with the Argonaut. This sunken wreck had an overhanging guard and was quite strongly built. The tide carried the Argonaut up against the side of the sunken wreck, and after our divers had come in and made their report in regard to her we attempted to come up to the surface, but the Argonaut could not come up, because the current had carried her in under the guard, and it was necessary for us to wait until the tide turned to enable us to get away from the obstruction.

At another time we were operating alongside of a wreck in which we were demonstrating the practicability of removing cargo from the sunken wreck to a small experimental cargo or freight-carrying submarine. This freight-carrying submarine was practically a tank, and was built purely for demonstrating purposes. It was nine feet in diameter and twenty-five feet long, with conical ends (see illustration, [page 278]). It had wheels underneath so that it could be towed on the bottom by the Argonaut. The Argonaut had gone down alongside of a sunken wreck loaded with coal, with the freight submarine alongside opposite to the wreck. The Argonaut had a centrifugal wrecking pump mounted on her deck, driven by a shaft extending through a stuffing box, and to fill the little cargo-carrying submarine it was necessary for the diver only to place the suction pipe connected with the wrecking pump into the sunken coal barge and the discharge pipe into the hatch of the cargo submarine, start the pump, and transfer the coal from the sunken wreck to the cargo-carrying submarine. We made several successful demonstrations of this, and actually transferred fifteen tons of coal from the sunken wreck to the cargo submarine with a six-inch pump in nine minutes. It was then necessary for the diver only to close the hatch of the freight-carrying submarine, admitting compressed air into the interior which blew the water out through check valves in the bottom of the freight submarine, and then the freight submarine would come to the surface with her cargo, which could be towed into port on the surface by surface tugboats. One day, when down on the bottom repeating this experiment, the diver came back into the diving compartment and said that he wanted the Argonaut moved ahead about twenty feet. The divers, having become familiar with the operation at this time, were a little careless. There were three of us in the diving compartment at the time, and it was "up to me" to go back into the machinery compartment and move the boat forward twenty feet; we could tell the distance by the revolutions of her wheels over the bottom. I told them to close the bottom diving door, and when I left the diving compartment they were in the act of doing so. As I looked back through the lookout window in the air-lock door I saw that the diver had taken off his helmet and was smoking his pipe—this being the first thing a diver always wants to do when coming out of the water. I then started to move the boat, assuming that the diving door was closed, but the boat did not move. Having been at rest there for some time, I assumed that she had probably taken in through a leaky valve some additional water, and I decided that it was necessary to lighten her somewhat, so I called on the telephone and asked them if everything was all right in the diving compartment and they replied that it was. I then pumped and tried her again; still she did not move, so I pumped out a little more from the forward end of the boat for the purpose of lightening her burden some more. All at once she left the bottom with a rapid rush and ascended to the surface. There was something which held her down, I do not know what it was, but it was not released until we had given her a partial buoyancy of perhaps two or three tons. I submerged her again quickly and went back through the air-lock into the diving compartment and then observed that the diver was taking off his diving suit; he was pale and appeared to be very much excited. I asked his helper, who was laughing, what the matter was. To this question the diver himself replied, "I will tell you a funny story when we get ashore." The tender then explained to me that they had not closed the door entirely, but had left it open about four inches, and when the boat rose, the air, rushing out of the compartment with a noise like a thousand locomotive whistles, had scared Captain S—— half to death. The tender had been with me in the diving compartment once before when a similar accident occurred and consequently he was used to it. As soon as we got alongside of the dock the diver referred to jumped ashore and said, "The funny story I am going to tell you is this: I will never set foot in your d—— boat again."

Another amusing situation occurred on the Argonaut which might have proved very serious. After we had completed our experiments with the Argonaut and started to build the Protector, not having any immediate use for her, the Argonaut was anchored in the river off the place where we were conducting our building operations. Our engineer, W——, received a visit one day from a friend of his who had visited Bridgeport on his wedding trip and had left his wife in the depot between trains while he ran up to see his old friend, our chief engineer. The chief took him out on board the Argonaut to show him through, and in explaining the boat to him the two men went into the diving compartment. Now the Argonaut had been shut up for some months, but the chief found that there was still sufficient air in the air tanks to enable him to admit the air into the diving compartment and show his friend how the door could be opened. The door, which opened downward, was quite heavy, weighing something over four hundred pounds, and was raised by block and tackle. He got the air pressure on all right and opened the door; the boat was near the bottom, and when the door opened downward the lower end of it settled into the mud. In attempting to lift it again the rope, which had become rotten, due to dampness, broke, and consequently he could not lift the door. In the meantime the tide was falling and the diving door was forced farther into the mud. As no one at the works knew that the chief had gone on board the Argonaut, when night came everybody went home and it was not until eleven o'clock that night that the watchman went down to the end of the pier and heard some one tapping on the Argonaut. Thinking this somewhat strange, he got into a boat and rowed out alongside. He still heard the tapping at regular intervals, and was astonished to see a small boat alongside; then he struck the Argonaut with his oar and immediately got a rapid tattoo in response. Feeling sure now that somebody in distress must be down in the Argonaut, he got a lantern, went down inside the boat and forward to the diving compartment. There, on the other side of the lookout window, he saw the face of the engineer. The chief had made the mistake of closing the forward air-lock door, so that when he got the pressure on in the diving compartment and the diving door open he could not close it again. There was no way for him to relieve the pressure and open the air-lock door without flooding the whole boat; while, had he closed the first or inner door he could have gone through into the air-lock, closing and securing the forward door behind him. He could then have released the air from the air-lock and escaped, in the meantime leaving the pressure on in the diver's compartment and the divers' door open. When the watchman appeared the chief wrote a note and put it up to the window, instructing the watchman to close the inner air-lock door. This was done, and then he and his friend got out. It was nearly midnight when they were released; and, feeling a natural curiosity in the circumstances, I asked the chief if his friend found his bride still waiting for him at the station. He replied that after they had managed to get out his visitor would not even speak to him, and that he had never heard from him since the occurrence.

I have described above how I ran grave risks while navigating in Russian waters, and it was in connection with the construction and delivery of these same boats for the Russian Government that I met with still other interesting experiences.

THE LAUNCHING OF THE "PROTECTOR"

Built in Bridgeport, Connecticut, in 1901-1902. Sent to Vladivostock, Russia, during the Russian-Japanese war, and was the only Russian submarine in full commission during that war. She was the forerunner of the German U type of boat, with her large flat deck, light-weight watertight superstructure and hydroplane control.

At the time of the Russo-Japanese War the Protector was being tried out in Long Island Sound, and representatives of both warring countries sent officers to witness her perform and to make propositions for her purchase. Russia secured her, however, and it then became a problem to get her out of the country without evading the neutrality laws. We discovered that we were being watched by spies, and had reason to believe that if it became known that Russia had purchased her, and that we were planning to take her out of the country, an injunction would be secured against us. We had secured high legal advice that if she were shipped incomplete we would not be evading the United States laws, but that she might, notwithstanding this precaution, be captured on the high seas or held in this country by injunction as contraband. We therefore removed her battery and sent it to New York, ostensibly for repairs; from there it was later shipped to Russia via steamer. The agents of the Russian Government then chartered the steamer Fortuna to carry a cargo of coal from Norfolk, Va., to Libau, Russia. While loading coal, heavy timbers to form a cradle on the deck were also shipped on board, and while coming up the coast this cradle was assembled and the Fortuna's decks strengthened sufficiently to carry the Protector, which had been stripped down to about one hundred and thirty tons by the removal of her battery. The plan was that the Fortuna should come into Sandy Hook at midnight on Saturday and proceed to Prince's Bay, a cove back of Staten Island. There the Protector was to be picked up by the powerful floating derrick, the Monarch, and the Fortuna, with the Protector on her deck, was then to get outside of Sandy Hook before daylight and pass the three-mile limit on Sunday morning. None of my crew was in the secret that an effort was to be made to get the Protector out of the country before legal proceedings could be taken to prevent her going; and, as she had no batteries on board, they were much surprised to be informed on Saturday—the morning of the day set to make the attempt—that they were to bring their suitcases and a change of clothing with them, as I was going to give the Protector a trial under her engines alone and we might be away a day or two. When we left Bridgeport I headed the Protector away from New York, and our men thought we were bound for Newport, but as soon as we got out of sight of the shore, in which we were assisted by a fog, I ran over under the Long Island shore and headed for New York. We remained in hiding during the day and passed through Hell Gate, the entrance into the East River, at about nine o'clock, and reached Prince's Bay according to schedule; but the Fortuna did not appear until eight o'clock on Sunday morning. Fortunately for the enterprise, a very heavy rainstorm came up and shut out all view of us from the shore until the Protector had been loaded and was out to sea. Before she sailed I called my crew together and told them that the Protector had been sold to a foreign country, and that, although I could not tell them to whom or to what port she was bound, I should like some of them to go with me to assist me in training the foreign crew to operate her. Every man volunteered and was anxious to go, so I selected those I wanted and they took their suitcases on board the Fortuna. It was seven years before some of these men returned to America.

The Protector was covered with canvas and she was sighted but once on her way across. To prevent suspicion I returned to Bridgeport for a few days and then took the fast steamer Kaiser Wilhelm II to Cherbourg and was met by the Russian Ambassador in Paris, who gave me Russian passports under the assumed name of Elwood Simons, as the Russian Government did not wish it to become known that it had purchased the Protector or that the builder was coming to Russia to instruct their officers and men in the use of submarines. This travelling about under an assumed name brought about some amusing complications and experiences later.

I arrived at Libau by train the morning the Fortuna and Protector arrived off that port, but the government had decided to send her on to Cronstadt, the principal naval station and defense of St. Petersburg, now called Petrograd, so orders were given accordingly. On the way up the Baltic the coverings over the Protector had been removed, and a Russian torpedo boat, seeing her, made off at full speed, soon to return with another torpedo boat and a larger gunboat and beginning to fire blank shots for the Fortuna to stop. The captain did not stop quickly enough, and then they fired solid shot just in front of the Fortuna's bow and she was forced to stop. It developed that one of the officers had recognized the Protector from having seen the pictures of her, but, not knowing that she had been bought by his own government, suspected that the Japanese Government had purchased her, and that she would probably be launched somewhere in the Baltic and attack the Russian fleet. He then sent an armed prize crew on board the Fortuna to take her into Cronstadt as a prize—which incidentally was where she was bound, anyhow.

On arriving at Cronstadt we were met by a number of officers of the Russian Navy, among whom were Captain Becklemechief and Chief Constructor Bubonoff, who were the joint designers of the Russian submarine Delphine, which had recently been completed. While sitting in the Fortuna's cabin exchanging congratulations upon the safe arrival of the Protector a telegram was brought in to Captain Becklemechief which, I noticed, caused his hitherto cheerful face to assume a grave aspect. He handed it to Constructor Bubonoff with a word in Russian which I could not understand. A little later, on our way to Petrograd, he informed me that the Delphine had sunk and drowned twenty-three officers and men, a number of whom were in training to be transferred to the Protector to make up her crew upon her arrival. We passed her on our way into Petrograd. She lay just off the Baltic works dock, and divers were then recovering the bodies.

THE "DELPHINE"

Russian submarine, which drowned 23 of her crew the day the author arrived at Cronstadt.

It appears that thirty-five men, all told, were on board, and that her conning tower hatch was closed by a lever arm connected to a nut which travelled on a threaded shaft operated from down inside the vessel, and it is believed that the officer in command gave the order to fill certain tanks which were usually filled previous to closing the hatch, not taking into consideration the fact that there was so much more weight on board than usual, due to so many more men—eight being the usual crew—and at the same time giving the order to close the hatch. Just then a steamer came by and a sea broke into the hatch, which frightened one of the men so that he tried to get out, and succeeded in getting one shoulder and his head out of the hatch. His body prevented the man down below from closing the hatch before the vessel had sunk with all hands; but after she sank either the man at the closing mechanism or some one else must have had sufficient presence of mind to open the hatch again, as twelve of the men were carried up out of the boat, presumably by the air bubbles which must escape from any enclosed airtight vessel before it can become entirely filled with water. This phenomenon may be observed by taking a bottle and forcing it down under water; the water will rush in and compress the air, and then the compressed air will overcome the pressure of the incoming water and rush out, carrying some of the water with it. Two of these men and Captain Tillian, who escaped, were afterward members of the Protector's crew. Captain Tillian told me that he was in the after part of the boat when she sank, and the last he remembered was being in water up to his breast and that one of the sailors asked him to kiss him good-bye. The captain was picked up on the surface unconscious. Another of the men said that he was carried to one end of the boat on the first inrush of water and then he felt himself being rapidly carried back to the centre of the boat and heard a sharp hissing sound like the rush of air. The next thing he recalled was coming to on the dock.

The Alligator was the first of the large cruising type of submarines which we built for the Russian Government. These vessels were five hundred and thirty-five tons submerged displacement, which was about twice that of the displacement of any submarines which had previously been built; and I was very anxious to get a trial of her before the winter season came on in the fall of 1907. As the winter closes all navigation in the Gulf of Finland for six or seven months, and as there were a number of new features to be tried out in this boat, I knew that unless I succeeded in getting a trial before the winter shut down I would have several months of worry as to whether or not the boat would function satisfactorily when submerged. Delays occurred, so that we were not able to get our trial as early as expected. The action of the weather indicated that navigation was likely to be closed within a day's time, as frequently occurs in those northern latitudes. We had not received the periscopes or lights, and the boat was not entirely completed, but was sufficiently far advanced to make it safe for me to try her on a submerged run. Consequently we arranged with the commandant of Cronstadt to supply us with a sea-going tender and went out for a trial in the open gulf, where we could get sufficient water to navigate such a large boat. It was very rough and stormy, and it took us some little time to get our final adjustments to enable us to submerge completely. We found that we did not have sufficient ballast to enable her to be submerged by filling the usual water ballast tanks, so we had to let some additional water in her motor-room, being careful not to let it rise high enough to saturate the windings of our dynamo-motors. In the meantime the storm had been increasing in velocity and a very rough sea had arisen. I had observed through the sighting hood that the tender was making very bad weather of it; the last I saw of her she was pitching and jumping out of the water to such an extent that at times I could see her keel from the stem to nearly one-half her length. When we got under water we became so much interested in the operation, which was entirely satisfactory, that we did not come to the surface again for about fifteen minutes. Then we simply rose for a look around and submerged again, giving no thought to the tender. The seas were so high that we could not see any distance from our sighting hood, and supposed she was somewhere in the vicinity. We continued our tests, alternately submerging and trying her out on the turns and at different speeds of motors until our battery was nearly run down, then we blew tanks and came to the surface just at dusk, expecting to find the tender to lead us back to Cronstadt. We had no lights or compass at this time, but fortunately we were able to catch sight of one of the lightships off the entrance to the channel leading to the harbor of Cronstadt, sufficient to set our course for port. By this time it was blowing a gale; in fact, it was the north storm which preceded the close of navigation, which followed a day or two later. Finally it set in to sleet and rain, and shut off our view of the light. We had nothing to guide us, but took a chance on the general direction. Fortunately we had no mines to fear, as the war had closed and they had been removed. Finally it "cleared up" sufficiently for us to make out the lights again, and we got into Cronstadt in the early hours of the morning. On our arrival at the dock we found the commandant of the port and a number of officers who had been informed of our arrival when we came through the war harbor gateway. We found the officers and men of the tender which had escorted us, all under arrest, and the commandant of the port asked me with very great seriousness if I would like to have them sent to Siberia. It seems that they had waited about an hour after they saw us disappear, and had come to the conclusion that we were lost. The commander of the tender said that if he had remained out any longer he thought that he himself would have been lost, as the storm was so severe. It broke loose nearly everything he had in the boat, washed all of his portable deck fittings overboard, and he feared his vessel would founder. I explained to the commandant of the port that under the circumstances, and from my observations of the way the boat had jumped around when we submerged, as well as from the fact that the commander of the tender could not see us, he was justified in coming into port. I also said that I would be very greatly obliged to him—the commandant of the port—if he would release the captain and crew from arrest, with my compliments; and this, I am glad to say, was done.

A number of submarine vessels with their crews have been lost in peace-time manœuvres. The cause of loss has not always been easy to determine. In numerous cases it was undoubtedly due to faulty design, especially in boats of the diving type, where they lacked sufficient static stability and plunged headfirst into the bottom. Numerous lives have been lost by the explosion of either gasolene fumes or hydrogen gas given off by the batteries, and some by asphyxiation, caused by the escape of the products of combustion from the engines, the accumulation of carbonic acid gas or chlorine gas generated by salt water getting into the batteries.

These accidents are usually brought about by the carelessness of some member or members of the crew. I had been fortunate in not having any loss of life on any of my boats up to the beginning of the war, but ignorance and carelessness have, in several instances, caused injuries, and might as readily have caused loss of life.

I have had a commander, after being coached as to proper procedure, to attempt to submerge his submarine vessel without checking up to see that hatches and ventilators were closed.

When we were enlarging the Argonaut at Erie Basin, in Brooklyn, I went down into the boat one day and found a strong odor of gasolene and saw numerous kerosene torches burning. Upon investigation I found that two machinists who were dismantling the engine had broken the gasolene supply pipe and allowed the gasolene in the pipes to run out on the floor of the engine-room—about a half-gallon, I should judge. I ordered the men all out of the boat and blew out the torches, even taking the precaution to pinch the wicks. Upon going up on the deck, a sub-foreman in charge of the men declared that there was no danger and ordered the men back to work. I objected, and went up to the main office to report that they were doing a dangerous thing, and to see if I could not get the superintendent to order a blower sent down to blow the gas fumes out of the boat. But before I could get his attention I saw the ambulance drive by, and learned that as soon as I had left the deck a couple of the men said I must be a d—— fool to be afraid of a little gas, and they had then gone down in the boat and struck a match to relight one of the torches. By this time an explosive mixture had been formed, and I can only hope that the explosion which occurred, as well as the following weeks which they spent in hospital, have now convinced them, as well as some of the other doubters, that a little gasolene in an improper place is exceedingly dangerous.

Another more serious explosion occurred on one of our large cruising submarines at the New Admiralty Works in Russia, which was due to a combination of both carelessness and ignorance. In this instance, gasolene had been sent down to the Admiralty dock for conducting dock trials of the engines. When the fuel arrived, the boat was full of workmen, carpenters, pipe-fitters, machinists, etc., but, notwithstanding the fact that there were rules posted that all men should leave the boat when taking on gasolene—except an inspector, who should check up to see that the proper valves were opened and everything tight—the quartermaster in charge of the labor crew, without notifying anyone in charge or anyone aboard the boat, connected up with the supply system and started pumping the gasolene into the boat. The engine was then running and charging batteries. Now it appears that one of the naval officers had—also without notifying the engineer—ordered a section of the filling pipe taken down for the purpose of having a branch pipe connection made in order to carry some additional fuel in the centre ballast tank—something we did not approve of; so, when the gasolene was pumped into the boat, instead of going into the proper tanks it ran out on the floor of the conning tower, then down through some openings for electric wires that had not yet been sealed, over the switchboard, and collected in a large puddle on the floor. One of the Russian electricians, who had been aft adjusting the dynamos, finally noticed this gasolene running down over the switchboard and cried out in Russian, "Quick, leave the boat for your lives!" and in his excitement he pulled the switch through which the dynamos were charging the batteries. This created a spark, which was all that was needed to create an explosion. Fortunately, this was a large boat and she had three exit hatches, all of which were open. A number of men were just in the act of going through the hatches; they were blown up into the air twenty-five or thirty feet, according to some observers, two of them falling into the water, from which they were rescued. Many of the men were seriously burned, but none fatally. Those most seriously injured were those near the hatches, as the flash of flame rose toward the hatches, the openings being the line of least resistance for the compressed air and gases. The men in the ends of the boat were not injured, while those midway between the hatches had about six inches of the bottom of their trousers burned to a crisp, which shows that the heavy gasolene fumes had not yet become thoroughly mixed with the air.

I had been on board this vessel only a few minutes previous to this explosion and at that time everything was in proper order, but I had left to keep an appointment with the Minister of Marine. Before reaching his office, however, one of our office men overtook me and notified me of the explosion. On my return I found great excitement, as it was reported that many men had been killed. The explosion had set fire to a lot of shavings and the wooden deck covering over the batteries, as well as some joiner work which was in process of erection. Some of the yard officers had ordered the hatches battened down, but the engines were still running, receiving sufficient air through ventilators to supply combustion. It was reported that several men were missing, and it was believed they had been killed by the explosion and were still on board. In the meantime the Minister of Marine and other officers had arrived, also a couple of fire companies, and I requested them to open the hatches and see if they could not put out the fire and get out the bodies if any were there. The officers objected on the ground that if any water were put on board it probably, upon coming in contact with the batteries, would create a lot of hydrogen gas and cause a further and perhaps more disastrous explosion. Finally I procured a couple of flasks of carbonic acid gas and let that into the boat over the battery compartment where the fire was, which smothered the flames, and then borrowed one of the firemen's smoke helmets and went down into the vessel, expecting to find some of the bodies of our missing men. The fire had burned the rubber insulators off the wires and some of the asphaltum insulators around the batteries, and the smoke was so thick that it was impossible to see anything, even with an electric lamp which I carried, but the heat was not very intense, as the flames had been put out by the carbonic gas and I found no bodies, so I ordered the hatches open, blowers put in, and a few buckets of water, which put out the embers. Our missing men were later found in the hospital, where they had been rushed before their names had been taken. Seventeen of the men were injured so badly that they had to go to the hospital, but the burns were mostly superficial, only the outer skin and hair being burned, and this was due to the instantaneous flash of the gasolene. They all eventually recovered.

The following day I held an investigation and learned the above facts regarding the delivery of the gasolene on board, the breaking of the pipe, etc. Several of the Russian workmen saw the gasolene leaking down into the compartment; one whom I interrogated said it had been leaking in for about five minutes before the explosion. I asked him if he knew it was gasolene. He said, "Yes." I asked him if he knew it was dangerous, and he said, "Yes." I asked him then why he did not report it, and his reply was characteristic of the Russian "moujik." He said, "I was sent down there to clean up the shavings after carpenters and not to look after the gasolene, as to whether that was being put on board in a proper manner or not, and I know enough to attend to my own business and do only what I am told to do."

The evidence further shows that about a quarter of a barrel of gasolene had been pumped into the boat before it was discovered that the pipe had been disconnected.

From the fact that the trousers of the men standing between the hatches were burned only about six inches up from the bottom, it shows that the gasolene fumes were still lying close to the floor, owing to the fact that the fumes of gasolene are heavier than atmospheric air. Had the explosion come a few minutes later, when the gasolene fumes and the air had been more thoroughly mixed, the explosion would have been more powerful and would probably have killed every man on board, as it did in the Italian submarine Foca, when twenty-three men were killed by an explosion due to a leaky gasolene tank.

There have been many other explosions, resulting in fatalities, in almost all of the navies using gasolene boats, especially where the fuel was carried in tanks built within the main hulls of the vessel, as it seems impossible to so "caulk" a seam in a tank that the fumes of gasolene will not leak through. The fact that it first settles to the floor makes it not easy to detect by the nostrils. When gasolene fumes become sufficiently mixed with air to rise up to the height of one's nostrils I always consider it an explosive mixture and would not think of striking a spark, as experiments show that a proper mixture of air and gasolene or hydrogen and air at only atmospheric pressure in an enclosed vessel will exert an explosive force of about ninety pounds per square inch, which will cause practically instant death. The above case, in regard to the Russian vessel, was undoubtedly due to carelessness or thoughtlessness of the officer who ordered the pipe to be disconnected, and the ignorance of the "moujik" who failed to give warning when he saw the gasolene coming into the boat; also to the further thoughtlessness of the electrician who pulled the switch which made the spark.

Among other accidents that have happened in peace times, causing loss of life, are several in the British Navy in vessels of the diving type; the Farfadet and Lutine in the French Navy, due to lost control in diving; also the Pluviose, which was run down and cut in two as she was coming to the surface; the Fulton, during an experimental cruise, and the F-4, E-2, and F-1 in the American Navy. In war time there have undoubtedly been many submarine vessels and entire crews lost, with none to tell the story of their passing.

[CHAPTER III]

EXPERIENCES OF PIONEER INVENTORS OF THE SUBMARINE

The experiences of the pioneer inventors of the submarine, if known in detail, would undoubtedly afford many amusing incidents as well as some tragic ones. Some of these have been treated in the previous chapter on the comedy and tragedy of submarine development. Cornelius Debrell must have been either something of a joker or else he was much further advanced in the art of revitalizing the air than are any of our modern scientists. His experiments attracted much attention during the reign of King James the First, and, according to the accounts published at that time, he must have been quite a court favorite, for it is reported that King James made a trip with him from Westminster Bridge to Greenwich. The accounts assert that he could remain under water for long periods of time by simply pouring out a few drops of some secret liquid from a bottle which he carried with him. The celebrated Ben Jonson, in one of his works, refers to Debrell and his celebrated boat in a humorous passage from one of his plays, "The Staple of News," acted by "His Majesty's Servants" in 1625.

P. Jun.—Have you no news against him, on the contrary?

Nath.—Yes, sir. They write here, one Cornelius-son hath made the Hollanders an invisible eel, to swim the haven at Dunkirk and sink all the shipping there....

P. Jun.—But how is't done?

Cym.—I'll show you, sir. It is an automa, runs under water, with a snug nose, and has a nimble tail, made like an auger, with which tail she wriggles betwixt the costs (ribs) of a ship, and sinks it straight....

P. Jun.—A most brave device, to murder their flat bottoms.

(Act II, S. 1.)

Of course, there are no authentic plans of Debrell's boat in existence, but from the descriptions which were published in regard to it I am under the impression that probably he did succeed in submerging below the surface of the water and propelling her with the tide for some distances. The description tells of some very ingenious arrangements for submerging the boat, in which he used goatskins sewed together in the form of bags. The mouth of each bag was nailed over an orifice opening from the interior of the boat into the sea. These goatskins were placed between planks, with a sort of a Chinese windlass arrangement for squeezing the planks together. When he wished to submerge the boat he allowed the planks to open out, and the water, rushing into the goatskins, increased the vessel's displacement so that it sank. When he wished to come to the surface he simply drew the planks together and squeezed the water out of the goatskins, thus restoring the vessel's buoyancy. According to description, the boat was propelled by oars extending through ports opening into the sides of the boat. Goatskins sewed in the form of cones prevented the water from entering the vessel, the base of the cone being nailed to the sides of the boat, the apex of which was cut off and bound around the staff of the oar. This gave sufficient flexibility to feather the oars and row under water.

Nearly one hundred years after Cornelius Debrell's experiments an Englishman by the name of Day built a small wooden submarine and descended in it under the water. This experiment gave him sufficient confidence to undertake the construction of a large vessel, and he proposed to make a profit from its use by making wagers that he could descend to a depth of one hundred yards and remain there for a period of twenty-four hours. He built the vessel, placed his wagers, and descended. He won his wagers but never returned to the surface to claim them.

BUSHNELL'S SUBMARINE, THE "AMERICAN TURTLE"

During the Revolutionary War Dr. David Bushnell, a resident of Saybrook, Connecticut, devised a submarine vessel called the American Turtle. He aimed to destroy the British fleet anchored off New York during its occupation by General Washington and the Continental Army. Thatcher's Military Journal gives an account of an attempt to sink a British frigate, the Eagle, of sixty-four guns, by attaching a torpedo to the bottom of the ship by means of a screw manipulated from the interior of this submarine boat. A sergeant who operated the Turtle succeeded in getting under the British vessel, but the screw which was to hold the torpedo in place came in contact with an iron strap, refused to enter, and the implement of destruction floated down stream, where its clockwork mechanism finally caused it to explode, throwing a column of water high in the air and creating consternation among the shipping in the harbor. Skippers were so badly frightened that they slipped their cables and went down to Sandy Hook. General Washington complimented Doctor Bushnell on having so nearly accomplished the destruction of the frigate.

If the performance of Bushnell's Turtle was as successful as this, it seems strange that our new government did not immediately take up his ideas and make an appropriation for further experiments in the same line. When the attack was made on the Eagle, Doctor Bushnell's brother, who was to have manned the craft, was sick, and a sergeant who undertook the task was not sufficiently acquainted with the operation to succeed in attaching the torpedo to the bottom of the frigate. Had he succeeded, the Eagle would undoubtedly have been destroyed, and the event would have added the name of another hero to history and might have changed even the entire method of naval warfare. Bushnell's plans did not receive any encouragement, however, and were bitterly opposed by the naval authorities. His treatment was such as to compel him to leave the country, but, after some years of wandering, under an assumed name he settled in Georgia, where he spent his remaining days practising his profession.

Doctor Bushnell was also the inventor of the submarine mine, with which he blew up a schooner anchored off New London, Connecticut, and attempted to sink some British men-of-war in the Delaware River off Philadelphia by setting them adrift with the tide, expecting them to float down, strike against the sides of the ship, and then explode. Fortunately for the ships, none of them happened to strike, but the fact becoming known that torpedoes were being set adrift in the river caused great consternation among the British shipping people. When some wag set a lot of kegs adrift, which floated down the river, it caused tremendous excitement, the English crews firing at the kegs as they came floating down the river. This has been recorded in that humorous poem called "The Battle of the Kegs," by Francis Hopkinson, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence.

Fulton's Attempt.—Robert Fulton, the man whose genius made steam navigation a success, was the next to turn his attention to submarine boats, and submarine warfare by submerged mines. A large part of his life was devoted to the solution of this problem. He went to France with his project and interested Napoleon Bonaparte, who became his patron and who was the means of securing sufficient funds for him to build a boat which was called the Nautilus. With this vessel Fulton made numerous descents, and it is reported that he covered fifty yards in a submerged run of seven minutes.

In the spring of 1801 he took the Nautilus to Brest, and experimented with her for some time. He and three companions descended in the harbor to a depth of twenty-five feet and remained one hour, but he found the hull would not stand the pressure of a greater depth. They were in total darkness during the whole time, but afterward he fitted his craft with a glass window, one and a half inches in diameter, through which he could see to count the minutes on his watch. He also discovered during his trials that the mariner's compass pointed equally as true under water as above it. His experiments led him to believe that he could build a submarine vessel with which he could swim under the surface and destroy any man-of-war afloat. When he came before the French Admiralty, however, he was met with blunt refusal, one bluff old French admiral saying, "Thank God, France still fights her battles on the surface, not beneath it!"—a sentiment which apparently has changed since those days, as France now has a large fleet of submarines.

ROBERT FULTON'S SUBMARINE

After several years of unsuccessful efforts in France to get his plans adopted, Fulton finally went over to England and interested William Pitt, then Chancellor, in his schemes. He built a boat there and succeeded in attaching a torpedo beneath a condemned brig provided for the purpose, blowing her up in the presence of an immense throng. Pitt induced Fulton to sell his boat to the English Government and not bring it to the attention of any other nation, thus recognizing the fact that if this type of vessel should be made entirely successful, England would lose her supremacy as the "Mistress of the Seas," a prediction which seems now somewhat verified, judging from the work of the enemy submarines in the past few months.

Fulton consented to do so regarding other European countries, but would not pledge himself regarding his own country, stating that if his country should become engaged in war no pledge could be given that would prevent him from offering his services in any way which would be for its benefit.

The English Government paid him $75,000 for this concession. Fulton then returned to New York and built the Clermont and other steamboats, but did not entirely give up his ideas on submarine navigation, for at the time of his death he was at work on plans for a much larger boat.

Tuck, the inventor of the Peacemaker, had an unhappy lot. He spent a considerable portion of his wealth upon his experiments, and it is reported that his relatives, thinking he would spend all of his money in this way, and consequently leave nothing to them, had him adjudged insane and incarcerated. Some years ago I met a diver who had been employed by Tuck in his submarine boat experiments. This diver related to me an incident that nearly caused them to lose their lives. It appears that the boat had been first submerged in shallow water to find out if it was tight, which it was under a moderate pressure. They then took it out in the Hudson River, but on reaching a greater depth, water started to come in around the gasket of the hatch, the hatch not being constructed in a manner to increase its tightness as the pressure on the same increased. The water came in so fast that they could not rise. He said they tried to caulk the leak by stuffing their handkerchiefs in between the hatch covering and the combing, but they could not stop it. Finally one of the men became so hysterical that it was necessary for the diver to take up a hammer and tap him on the head with it and threaten to brain him unless he became quiet and did as he was told. The diver told me that he became satisfied that the only chance for their lives was to allow the boat to fill, then hold their breath as it was filling, until the external pressure on the hatch was equalized, and then open the hatch and swim to the surface. They followed this plan and escaped safely.

TUCK'S "PEACEMAKER"

Holland's Achievements.—While Mr. John P. Holland and I worked in adjoining rooms at the Columbian Iron Works, in Baltimore, in the years 1896 and 1897, at the time he was building the Plunger and I the Argonaut, and saw each other almost every day, we never became sufficiently intimate to exchange personal experiences. I am therefore indebted to his son, Mr. John P. Holland, Jr., for the loan of notes left by his father and compiled by himself regarding his father's early and later experiences. I quote from the notes:

On the southwest coast of Ireland, a few miles from the famous cliffs of Mohar, and overlooking the river Shannon, stands the village of Liscannor. Here was born on February 24, 1841, John P. Holland, later to become famous as the inventor of the Holland submarine. He was the second son of John and Mary Holland, who had long been residents of the place. His father was a coast guard, and from him little John heard the stories of the sea that inspired in him the love he had for it in later years. His elder brother, Alfred, was a strong, healthy boy of great intellect. When John was six years old he was sent to the Irish Christian Brothers school at Ennistymon, in the same county. He always credited the Irish Christian Brothers with giving him the early education that made him capable, later, of achieving results that scientists of to-day can hardly credit as being true.

In 1853 the family moved to Limerick, causing John to be transferred to the schools taught by the Christian Brothers at Sexton Street, that city. He was a very studious boy and made great progress in his studies. He loved to tell how he was in the habit of rising early in the morning and going into the fields, where he would climb a tree and there study his lessons for the day. The family had not resided long in Limerick when the father was taken from them very suddenly. He had been suffering from some slight ailment, and mentioned the fact to a friend. The friend advised that he take a home remedy, composed mostly of potash. He took the prescribed dose and died within a few hours.

On the death of his father John was compelled to give up school and seek employment in a tobacco shop. In 1858 he left the position and became a teacher in the Christian Brothers schools. In 1860 he showed signs of failing health; accordingly the Brothers transferred him to one of their schools in Waterford, in the hope that the climate there would prove more beneficial to his impaired health. However, after residing in that town for a time it was seen that the looked-for improvement did not materialize, and he grew worse instead of better. During the following twelve months he was assured by the best medical advice available that his health would not permit him to continue his studies, and that in order that it be restored he would do well to live in some place having a mild and dry climate, such as is found in the Madeira Islands. For several reasons this was impracticable, so he went to Cork to wait until he could find a suitable climate in which to live. While staying in Cork he lived at Ashburton, at the western end of Clanmire Hill, for about one year. While here he improved greatly in health and strength.

The War of the Rebellion in the United States had started a few months before he came to live in Cork. Toward the end of November, 1862, he read in the Cork Examiner an announcement of the first combat between armored ships that had occurred about two weeks previously; that is, the battle between the Monitor and Merrimac at Hampton Roads, Va., in which the little Monitor defeated the Merrimac, of twice her bulk and power, after a short contest. Just before the remarkable duel the Merrimac, ignoring the guns of her opponent, the wooden ship Congress, sank her by striking her with her massive iron stem. The Cumberland, another ship like the Congress, lying in the water near her, did not wait to be similarly rammed, but made haste to run aground on the nearest shallow place. But this did not save her, as the Merrimac attacked her and set her on fire with her heavy guns, while ignoring her fire, which did very little harm. This epoch-making contest in Virginian waters astonished naval authorities the world over, especially in England, whose main reliance for the maintenance of their power was placed in the "wooden walls," and in the bravery and skill of their seamen. The English nervousness was due to the demonstration at Hampton Roads that wooden ships could be no more of a hindrance to an armorclad than the Cumberland and Congress were to the Merrimac, and that if the Yankees built a few more monitors and sent them across the Atlantic quickly, they could come to London by water absolutely unhindered and destroy London and all the English navy within reach. All the English naval depots could, with practically no hindrance, be treated similarly within a few months, and an end made of English oppression from which it could never recover.

That this is no wild dreaming will be evident to everybody, when the action of the English Parliament regarding a proposal made there by a Lord of the Admiralty was considered and acted upon favorably in rapid order. A certain Lord Paget, who commanded an English ship at the bombardment of Sebastopol, proving that he was not without experience in justifying the assertion, told them that if all the five hundred and eighty English warships then in existence were sent into the Cork harbor; and if the little American Monitor were to get in there, too, at the same time; and also if a suitable chain boom were fixed so as to enclose the whole lot, that the same little Monitor could send them all to the bottom within a few hours without being compelled to fire a single shot. Lord Paget made these assertions in support of a motion he made before the House of Commons, proposing that the unspent part of an appropriation of about $75,000,000 designed to build forts to defend harbors in the South of England for the protection of their fleets against the French and Yankees should be immediately applied to the construction of armorclad ships. Without any delay a bill was passed making the required change in the appropriation bill. Very shortly after the Admiralty proposed the construction of four ironclads, which proposal was immediately adopted.

Four large battleships were taken and razed and covered with armor-plate. They were followed later by many much more powerful vessels designed especially to carry armor, until at the present day the English Navy is competent to engage all the European navies together. Mr. Holland, reflecting upon the result of the duel at Hampton Roads, foresaw this result clearly, because he knew that England possessed the necessary materials, money, and mechanical skill required to provide ships enough to maintain her claim to her assumed title, "Mistress of the Seas," and to enable her to terrorize the greatest nations of Europe that had persistently shown lack of wisdom by their neglect to properly provide themselves with the only weapon that could resist her; that is, a sufficiently powerful navy.

They trusted, to their undoing, to great armies, forgetting that England had already proved her ability to cause combinations of her former enemies against any one of them.

But, having carefully noted the development of armored ships in the American, English, and French navies since the first duels of armorclads at Hampton Roads, Mr. Holland conceived the notion that it would be possible to build a vessel that would utilize water cover as a protection against an enemy's projectiles and thus be capable of ramming her enemy without exposing herself to attack. The study of the possibility of designing a practicable submarine boat to encounter English ironclads in this manner became the most interesting problem that he had to solve for a considerable time afterward. He further relates the physical difficulties that had to be overcome; bad health and hard work hindered consideration of the problem for a long time, until one day he happened to see in a newspaper an account of the experiments made with a submarine in New York harbor.[1] The description of its performances appeared to be incredible when he remembered the physical difficulties that had to be overcome, as his former study of the subject revealed them. Reflecting later that it was foolish and unfair to ridicule and laugh at a project which was described only by a short notice in the newspaper, and that described only its success in overcoming the physical difficulties in its operation, he started on a thorough study of the question in connection with a design roughly sketched on a sheet of paper; giving due attention to the essential points concerned in using a submarine boat so that it would be practical to live and work while completely submerged even in rough water; so as to propel it, first, at an even or any required depth; second, to be able to steer it with certainty in any required direction; third, to have an ample supply of compressed air on board, as well as the necessary apparatus to renew it when exhausted.

Fortunately he had sufficient engineering knowledge to determine the thickness and weight of a spindle-shaped steel shell competent to endure the external water pressure due to a submergence of two hundred and fifty feet depth, which was probably the greatest pressure it would ever be compelled to endure when in action. He was also competent to provide for a change of trim and for regulating the degree of submergence, as well as to provide for a slow or a rapid rise to the surface as circumstances might require. After completing his design, however, he found there was no one with confidence enough in the idea to give him backing. He was regarded as a second Jules Verne; in a word, a dreamer. He accordingly locked his plans in his trunk and for the time being forgot all about them.

A few years later his mother came to the United States and he decided to follow her. He landed in Boston in the winter of 1872, and in the middle of typical New England weather as found at that time of the year. Everything was covered with ice and snow, quite different from the mild winters he had known in the little "Green Isle." One morning after his arrival he was walking through one of the streets of the "Hub," and, not being possessed of the agility of a mountain goat—so necessary for a man to navigate one of our American streets during an icy spell—he had not gone far before he fell and broke his leg. Passersby helped him home, and he was assured by the physician who set the fracture that he would not be able to move about for at least two months. Finding himself with so much idle time on his hands, he decided to get out his forgotten plans and study them again. The result was that by the time his convalescence was over he had drawn a new and much superior design.

But it was not until 1876, when he was teaching school in Paterson, New Jersey, that he succeeded in securing financial backing for his first boat. A friend at that time raised the necessary capital, about $6000, and the building was done at the Albany Street Iron Works, corner of Albany and Washington Streets, New York, in 1876, in the shop owned by Messrs. Andrew and Ripley. To their courteous superintendent, Mr. Dickey, he was indebted for many suggestions toward rendering the boat practical and useful. Early in 1878 she was removed to Todd and Rafferty's shop in Paterson, New Jersey; he, being a resident of that city at that time, could complete her outfit more easily there. Toward the end of July, 1878, she was taken to a point where she could be more easily launched, about one hundred yards above the Falls Bridge, on the right bank of the river. She was taken there late one fine afternoon and launched from the wagon on which she was moved. Mr. William Dunkerly, the engineer in charge of the operation, fastened a strong line on her bow to bring her to when she was afloat; but she did not float long, for the wagon wheels sank in the made ground where they launched her, the greater part of the wagon being submerged, as well as nearly one-half of the volume of the boat, leaving the boat with the stern considerably elevated. After hard work on the part of Messrs. Dunkerly and John Lister, the owners of a boathouse above the bridge she was pulled off the wagon and floated for a few minutes, amid the cheers of mill operatives who lined the banks and covered every available spot on the bridge. But the cheering suddenly ceased when the boat backed a little out in the river, for she settled deeper in the water and finally sank, to the great disappointment of the crowd, who expressed their feelings in loud yells until Messrs. Dunkerly and Lister moved the wagon out of the way, took hold of the boat's painter, and pulled her out of the water high and dry on the spot previously occupied by the wagon. It is no exaggeration to say that the natives were much astounded to see a little iron boat weighing four tons pulled by two men from the bottom of the Passaic and left standing high and dry on the bank.

The next day the accidental submergence was explained by the absence of two five-eighths inch screw plugs from the bottom of the central compartment in which the operator would be seated while the boat was in operation. By opening a stop valve while the boat was in operation under water a sufficient quantity of water would enter, surround the operator in his diving suit, and render the boat and its contents heavier than water, so that it would sink as it did after having been launched with the plug holes open. The reason that it did not sink, and that it was so easy a matter to pull it ashore, was because the total weight on board on that occasion was much more than it was designed to carry. The central space then carried water equal to the weight of the diver and his suit of armor, as well as the additional quantity that would fill the space around him, as well as that which would be due to the distention of the suit by air pressure while it was in action during diving. The actual practicability of being able to handle the boat under these conditions was the first important point proved by experiment on the day following the launch.

"We proved conclusively, a few weeks after, that our estimate of the quantity of fresh compressed air required to support life comfortably in the operator was probably a little excessive. The quantity of compressed air, as well as the pressure required to force all water out of the boat and to cause her to float light on the surface, was ample. A few days after the launch, the engine having been given a slight test, the boat was towed up the river to a point opposite the old Pennington house. In the launch that towed her were Mr. Dunkerly, Captain John Lister, and three men prominent in the 'Fenian' movement."

What happened when the boat reached the point for the test is best told by Mr. Dunkerly: "We fastened ropes to the bow and stern," Mr. Dunkerly said; "Mr. Holland climbed into the submarine, closed the hatch, and started the engine. The bow went down first, and before we realized the fact the boat was under twelve feet of water. The ropes were a safeguard in case the compressed air should not prove sufficient to expel the water from the ballast tanks. Holland was also given a hammer with which to rap upon the shell of the boat should he find himself in difficulties. After being submerged one hour, Holland brought the boat to the surface, to the great relief of all who were witnessing the test. As soon as the boat came up the turret opened and Holland bobbed up smiling. He repeated his dive several times, and then he invited us to try it, but we preferred to 'stick to the ropes.' About the third trip we made up the river a stranger was seen hiding behind the rocks on the river road. He had a powerful field glass, and it was said that he was an agent of the British Government. His presence caused a commotion for a time." From here we will continue in Mr. Holland, Senior's, own words:

"Continuous submergence trials for various periods were next undertaken. We had one serious setback that caused no greater trouble than shortening our experiments by compelling us to omit all running trials and to confine ourselves to testing matters of essential importance. This was due to the failure of the misnamed Braton engine that was installed in the boat. The builders assured me that it was a Braton engine, but they had improved on Braton's designs by employing two double-acting cylinders, having both ends of each supplied with charges from one central combustion chamber. On trial in the boat this engine failed to develop any noticeable power, so we were compelled to employ Mr. Dunkerly's launch, supplying her engines with steam, which was conducted from the boiler of his launch by way of a hose to the engine of the submarine, which was now employed as a steam engine. This entailed a considerable loss of steam, due to condensation, but it produced enough power to propel the submarine, having Mr. Dunkerly's launch alongside so as to allow free vertical movement, as when diving, so that we could test the efficiency of the boat's horizontal and vertical rudders. The vertical rudders, those that controlled horizontal motion, proved to be very effective, but the horizontal rudders, placed on the level of the centre of buoyancy, proved to be useless. We proved that the boat should move three or four times more rapidly before they could produce a useful effect. This experiment showed the folly of attempting to control the degree of submergence of the boat by the employment of central horizontal rudders, a method on which so much importance was placed by some of my predecessors and successors, in attempts at submarining, and, strange to say, some of them still believe in it, very evidently because they have never tested them. A good many submarine and other inventors are satisfied with designs on paper and do not bother to make experiments. We determined some other very evident matters that it was necessary to prove by actual experiment; that is, that it is not practical to cause a boat to lie still at any given depth without the employment of complicated machinery that should have no place in a submarine boat. Several other important points regarding the design, construction, and management of submarines, which still cause difference of opinion and design, were determined fairly well. For instance, the modern craze for 'good, big boats,' as well as for large, high conning towers, was proved to be absurd. Even though our views on these and other matters were exhibited to the Navy Department Ordnance Bureau, practically no notice was taken of them. I disliked the idea common among politicians that my failures to get a government contract was owing to political influence or 'pull,' but, judging by my short experience in Washington, I concluded that there was another, and much more serious, hindrance to the adoption of my ideas.

"The history of the efforts I made to induce the government to consider the claims of the first submarine boat proposed to them by me in 1875, as well as the results, reflects no credit on the officials that had anything to do with it, as can be clearly seen from what follows.

"The first proposition was made in 1875, through a friend of the late Secretary of the Navy Robeson, for his consideration. It was referred by him for a report to the late Admiral Sampson, at that time commander of the torpedo station at Newport, Rhode Island. The Admiral reported in good time that the project was practically impossible, owing mainly to the difficulty of finding in what direction to steer the boat under water, and the attempt to do so would be an aggravated case of trying to find one's way in a fog. Very evidently he had no notion of the possibility of steering by compass under water. The same incredulity was expressed by a distinguished Swedish officer whom I afterward met in New York.

"After having determined the correctness of my ideas regarding submarines, and adding a few points revealed by the experiments made on the Passaic River, my financial supporters, the trustees of the Fenian Skirmishing Fund, determined to build a larger boat that could be employed for breaking blockades.[2] Toward the end of May I started to design a new boat of about nineteen tons displacement; in other words, one small and light enough to be carried on ship's deck and launched overboard whenever her services would be required. Only three men were required for her crew.

THE "FENIAN RAM"

The first Holland power-propelled submarine boat (built 1881). Sketch made by the author after measuring the boat at New Haven, Connecticut, in 1915.

"She was built at the shops of the Delamater Iron Works, at the foot of West Thirteenth Street, New York, and launched in May, 1881. During her construction my curiosity was excited by the apparent incredulity of some of the engineers in the shop regarding the practicability of such a boat. Many objections were urged against her, especially by men who should have known better, but the trouble with them was almost the same as I encountered later among the staff officers of the navy, viz., because they were, almost without exception, of English, Welsh, or Scotch descent, experienced in all kinds of shipbuilding. They appeared to know by intuition that the project was absurd. They proposed many difficulties that were not solved for them. I also noticed that many of the men appeared to take a deep interest in the progress of the work, even though they never made any inquiries to my knowledge, yet they observed everything, because there was no way of preventing them. I also noticed what appeared to be consequences of this curiosity of foreigners regarding an American machine.