Chapter VII The Submarine in Action
Once, and only once, has a submarine boat succeeded in inflicting any damage on an enemy in actual warfare. This was during the American Civil War when one of the Confederate Davids succeeded in blowing up the Federal frigate Housatonic, and in annihilating itself at the same time.
Before this event under-water vessels had attempted to destroy hostile craft, but with no success.
In 1776 Bushnell’s diving torpedo-boat made an attack on the English frigate Eagle, and in 1777 on the English man-of-war Cerberus and other vessels. Although it failed to inflict any injury on a single vessel, three of the crew of a prize schooner astern of the Cerberus, hauling one of Bushnell’s drifting torpedoes on board, were killed by the explosion.
In 1801 Fulton attempted to destroy one of the English Channel Fleet off Boulogne by means of his drifting torpedoes, but owing to the ship altering her position at the moment of setting the torpedo adrift, the attack failed. In 1804–5, Fulton, who had now joined the British forces, attacked some of the French ships, but the torpedoes exploded harmlessly. From the death of Fulton to the commencement of the American Civil War, numerous inventive minds built or projected submarine craft of all shapes and sizes, but none of these ever participated in an actual engagement.
The exploits of the diving torpedo-boats known by the generic name of David, during the contest between the Federals and the Confederates, have been fully described in Chapter XII., and there is therefore no need to dwell further on this period in the history of under-water warfare. Since then no submarine boat has ever been taken into battle, although during the Spanish-American war Spain might have used the Peral, and the United States the Holland. In mimic warfare submarines have played their part, and although no very definite conclusions respecting their possible value in time of war can be drawn from their performances in peace manœuvres, still it may not be unprofitable briefly to note the various occasions on which some of the new submarine torpedo-boats have been used.
The first of these occasions was in September, 1900, during the manœuvres of the U.S. North Atlantic Squadron off Newport, Rhode Island, when the Holland made an attack upon the fleet by herself, without convoy, at a distance of seven miles out from the mouth of the harbour, and, with her own crew alone in her, torpedoed the flagship of the squadron, the Kearsarge, commanded by Capt. Wm. M. Folger. Lieut. Caldwell, who commanded the Holland on this occasion, wrote regarding the incident:—
“The Holland was not seen by any vessel of the blockading fleet or torpedo-boat, although she was within torpedo range of three of the former and several of the latter. I consider the attack was a success because the Holland could in all probability have torpedoed three blockading vessels without being discovered.”
It must be added that Admiral O’Neil, who has but a poor opinion of the value of submarines in war, has written as follows: “.... On September 25, 1900, during some manœuvres of the North Atlantic Fleet off Newport, Rhode Island, the Holland, on a very fine evening and under exceptionally favourable circumstances, steamed seven miles as a surface boat only outside Newport harbour, and like the torpedo-boat Porter, claims to have put the battleship Kearsarge out of action, which was not allowed by the umpire, as it was decided that the Kearsarge had already been put out of action by the torpedo-boat Dahlgren.”
Since this exploit of the Holland, no American submarine has taken part in manœuvres with the fleet.
French Submarines
From 1898 onwards French under-water vessels have often engaged in mimic warfare, and many of the French papers have published glowing accounts of their wonderful performances, but one has to accept such statements with caution. In the following story of their doings care has been taken so far as possible to represent what really took place.
The torpedoing of the Magenta in December, 1898, by the Gustave Zédé is a famous chapter in the history of French submarines, and one of which all Frenchmen are naturally proud.
M. Lockroy in his book “La Défense Navale” has recorded the incident.
The manœuvre commenced at 3.17 in the afternoon, and the torpedo was fired at 3.28. The Gustave Zédé plunged at 3.20 for the first time; she emerged five times, and the longest appearance was 1 min. 30 secs., the shortest 30 secs.
The three cruisers, Magenta, Neptune, and Marceau, knew the exact moment when the attack would take place, and also the exact position of the Gustave Zédé, yet though they trained their quick-firing guns upon the submarine, the judges decided that she would not have been hit.
M. Lockroy says that if the boat had carried her optical arrangements she would not have needed to come to the surface.
“The eyes of all on board were fixed on the sea; officers and men stood watching the crest of the waves, and every minute there were exclamations, or some one fancied he had seen the submarine. We imagined we saw it everywhere, and it was nowhere.
“In point of fact it was proceeding quietly and invisibly towards its mark.
“Suddenly a precise and exact observation was made. The cupola of the Gustave Zédé had just appeared 400 yards away, still abreast of us, notwithstanding the distance which we had covered.
“Immediately orders were issued. The guns were brought to bear upon her, and the quick-firers depressed in her direction. The submarine was no longer there. She was hidden from our fire and from our view. A minute elapsed. Though orders were given to the engineers to put on steam, and the Magenta had gone some considerable distance in the sixty seconds, the Admiral and I, leaning over the railing of the bridge, saw approaching us with lightning speed an elongated body shining like gold.
“It was the torpedo of the Gustave Zédé! It struck the ship about four yards below the water-line, and was smashed on the iron armour, but if it had been charged the Magenta would have been sunk.”
The Majenta was twice successfully torpedoed, once while at anchor and once whilst steaming at ten knots, and the Gustave Zédé showed that it was quite possible for a submarine to discharge torpedoes below the water without having its equilibrium disturbed.
To accomplish the second of these feats the vessel came five times to the surface to take bearings, but on no occasion was her conning tower in view for more than 1½ minutes. The last time just before discharging her torpedo the conning tower was only seen for 30 seconds. The torpedo struck the battleship on the port side just forward of the bow barbette.
After her trial the submarine proceeded unaided from Toulon to Marseilles, a distance of 41 miles in a rough sea at 6 knots, thus showing her sea-going qualities.
When Englishmen took up their morning papers on July 5, 1901, there met the gaze such headings as “Submarine’s great feat;” “How the Gustave Zédé torpedoed a big battleship;” “New Naval Warfare;” “French Navy the most powerful in the world.”
The Paris correspondent of the Daily Express sent the following telegram to his journal:—
“The feat performed in Ajaccio Harbour by the submarine Gustave Zédé in hitting the great battleship Jauréguiberry with a dummy torpedo without her approach being even suspected, has produced a deep impression in naval circles. That the act was a brilliant piece of seamanship and gunnery tactics now admits of no question, though full details are not yet forthcoming. The facts, according to the concurring testimony of the Paris journals, are shortly these: The Mediterranean division of Admiral Gervais’ great fleet, which is under Admiral de Maigret, and has its headquarters at Algiers, had put into Ajaccio to provision, and yesterday morning steamed from the harbour in three lines, the torpedo-boat flotilla leading, then the cruisers, and the two battleships Charles Martel and the Jauréguiberry in rear. All the other ships had got well under way, and the Jauréguiberry had just moved from her moorings, when she was struck by a dummy torpedo by an invisible enemy. Instantly the quick-firing machine guns were set to sweep the sea, and signals sent the torpedo flotilla scouring in all directions to search for the mysterious foe. The chase being quite fruitless, the division finally steamed away, and then, the coast being clear, there popped up to the surface, like a dark spectre from the nether world, the submarine Gustave Zédé. Vice-Admiral Menard, who commands the Northern Squadron, with headquarters at Toulon, hearing that his adversary was provisioning at Ajaccio, had despatched the submarine from Toulon on Tuesday night on the mission which was to put the efficacy of submarines in practical warfare to a supreme test. The sequel shows that she had accomplished her voyage, taken her observations, gone under water, and after allowing the whole division to pass, had struck with unerring aim, and with complete success, at the most formidable vessel in it. This perfect mastery of the position shown by the submarine constitutes the most striking part of the achievement, which can only be minimised by assuming on the part of the Mediterranean squadron a degree of carelessness difficult to understand, considering that the order had been given to act in all things as in real war. After every deduction has been made, however, there is no disputing the fact that the submarine has proved its tremendous possibilities in warfare. In consequence of this success of the Gustave Zédé the French are suffering from a bad attack of naval fever. Some would call it ‘tête montée.’ ‘Where is Britain’s naval supremacy now?’ is a question which was often asked to-day. ‘C’est magnifique!’ say the papers, describing France’s submarine fleet. ‘By reason of her submarine division the navy of France is the most dread and powerful in the world.’”
The enthusiasm of the French was somewhat lessened by the subsequent accounts of the exploits of the submarine. It appeared that it was the battleship Charles Martel which received the Gustave Zédé’s torpedo, and that the latter, after her feat, crossed the bows of the Jauréguiberry so closely that the last named had to turn in her whole length to avoid colliding with the submarine, which in war would have been destroyed. It was also stated that the success of the Gustave Zédé was considerably minimised by the fact that Ajaccio was an “inviolate” port and that the enemy had no necessity to keep a sharp look-out when they knew themselves to be in absolute security, that the Gustave Zédé belonged to the same side as her “victim,” and that the manœuvres did not commence officially until Wednesday night, whereas the incident in question took place on Wednesday morning.
Certain cynical folk declared that the whole business was a stage-managed affair designed to gratify the popular affection the French had for the submarine, and to justify the naval department which had exploited the engine of war. The majority of the French papers, however, made the most of the Gustave Zédé’s “splendid accomplishment,” and seemed to imagine that the British Admiralty were terror-stricken at the notion of what French submarines would be able to accomplish in war.
The Patrie published an interview a correspondent had at Toulon with Lieutenant Jobart, who was in command of the Gustave Zédé. The officer stated that the enemy were perfectly well aware of the departure of the Gustave Zédé from Toulon in tow of the tug Utile. As Ajaccio was neared, Lieutenant Jobart dismissed the Utile, and lay on the surface of the ocean waiting for the appearance of the enemy. He soon saw two cruisers leave their anchorage, and he sank his vessel until they had passed out of sight. On coming again to the surface, he saw that the battleships were still at anchor, so he crept nearer, only sinking when he saw the big vessels moving, and after he had taken his bearings for an attack on the Charles Martel, and when the battleship passed over the Gustave Zédé, the torpedo was fired which struck the vessel, and thus warned the Fleet that a submarine was in the harbour. The lieutenant asserts that none of the look-out men on the warship observed him, but when the torpedo had been fired he rose to the surface, whereupon two shots were fired from the Fleet, and he sank at once, remaining below the surface until the last vessel of the Fleet was out of the harbour, and the submarine was beyond range. The Journal stated that Admiral Gervais had indirectly warned the squadron of the participation of the Gustave Zédé by recommending it to act as if threatened by an attack of submarines.
The Paris correspondent of the Times wrote as follows:—
“What will be the result of these exercises it is impossible at present to foresee, but meanwhile an event of singular, and one might even add, of grave suggestiveness has occurred—of a character, indeed, which may render these manœuvres historic. I refer to an exploit of the Gustave Zédé, which suddenly turned up in the port of Ajaccio, unheralded but safe and sound, and so completely in fighting trim, in spite of the long voyage from Toulon, that she dared even to torpedo the battleship Jauréguiberry as the latter was leaving her moorings. The unexpected arrival of the submarine created consternation. She had passed nearly the whole day at sea out of sight of land. She left Toulon in company with a tug, and may for a time have utilised the assistance thus furnished in order to economise her store of electricity. But she arrived, at all events, quite alone at Ajaccio with enough electricity at her disposal to torpedo one of the enemy’s vessels, escaped from the torpedo-boats which she surprised in her daring exploit, and again disappearing below the surface, returned without being detected to port. She entered the bay of Ajaccio completely submerged, sighted by none of the signal-stations, and was thus able to traverse the entire line of war vessels in the bay. This feat is regarded as conclusive as to the practical utility of the French submarine. It sets one speculating on the revolution which the invention of these submarine craft may, after all, make in naval warfare, in spite of incredulous over-Channel critics.”
The Temps somewhat detracts from the glory of the performance by pointing out that the Gustave Zédé was towed most of the way from Toulon, but added that there could be no two opinions as to the value of the subsequent success. The fleet had no suspicion of what had happened until the Jauréguiberry was struck by the torpedo. Even then it was a mystery, as the destroyers dashed hither and thither, seeking in vain for the hidden foe. When they had returned, baffled and perplexed, the submarine rose to the surface and steamed slowly alongside the great battleship, whose crew lined the sides and cheered with wild enthusiasm at the brilliant achievement which had vindicated the glory of the unconquerable submarine.
With regard to the tug which accompanied the Gustave Zédé, it was stated that she was sent with the submarine as an additional precaution, in order that she might be assured of help in case of accident, but the Gustave Zédé could have reached Ajaccio by her own motor-power. She accomplished the voyage, moreover, in a sea with waves nine to twelve feet high, but notwithstanding the rough passage, her rolling was comparatively slight.
Those who had been most insistent in arguing the value of submarine warships declared that the torpedoing of the Charles Martel proved that instead of simply serving to defend the coast, a submarine could put to sea and assail the coasts of an enemy.
After her “brilliant exploit” the Gustave Zédé left Ajaccio at 6 o’clock one evening, and arrived at Toulon at 11 o’clock the following morning, her speed averaging 8 knots.
A Petit Journal correspondent at Marseilles said:—
“I mentioned this morning that the Gustave Zédé had arrived at 11 o’clock in the old port while still under warfare. I should like to call attention to the feat accomplished by this little boat. The Gustave Zédé had not been perceived by any of the coast signal stations, although the sea was calm, and the pilot steamer the Sentinelle went out to meet the tug Utile without suspecting that the submarine was immersed near at hand, navigating under water. Its presence was shown above water only by the tiny tricolour flag, the size of a sheet of paper, just above the surface. The Gustave Zédé entered the port and was moored at the quay among the other vessels without its presence being detected, save by reason of the little flag. This shows what service this submarine can render in time of war, and how natural and patriotic is the interest taken in it.”
On July 27, 1901, during a sham fight at Toulon, the Gustave Zédé was reported to have approached the Bouvet, on which were MM. Waldeck-Rousseau and De Lanessan, unseen, and to have fired a torpedo at the battleship whilst the Ministers and the Admiral were peacefully eating their dinners.
Commenting on this “feat,” a correspondent of the Matin said:—
“About 5 o’clock in the evening the fleet arrived at the entrance to the Salins d’Hyères. The Gustave Zédé, which was lying under the shelter of one of the islands which close the Roads, at once got under way, and from the bridge of the Bouvet, M. Waldeck-Rousseau could see it plunge, and then make its way beneath the surface straight for the Bouvet, without deviating once.
“When about three hundred yards off, the Gustave Zédé launched a torpedo, which came towards the flagship in an absolutely straight line, showing that its course had been as admirably directed as it had been aimed. The Bouvet was struck on the starboard beam, three yards below the water-line. All those who were on the bridge saw the torpedo strike the hull, and they even heard the sound caused by the shock, and felt the slight trepidation usual in such cases, for it needs very little to cause vibration on board ships constructed entirely of steel.
“What is curious is that the torpedo, probably on account of its velocity, immediately after striking the Bouvet, glanced forward and was lost to sight. Thrown out of order by the sudden shock, it must have sunk to the bottom, for it has never been found.”
M. Waldeck-Rousseau subsequently went on board the Gustave Zédé, and after spending three-quarters of an hour on her he went away “in an enthusiastic frame of mind.”
M. Camille Pelletan, reporter of the Budget of the Ministry of Marine, said:—
“That a submarine should plunge beneath the surface of the water, and that it should then be able to discharge a torpedo, does not prove very much. There is no vessel of this description, however indifferent it may be, which does not accomplish as much. The whole question is to know its navigable sea-going and manœuvring qualities. If the Gustave Zédé, therefore, in or near a harbour, torpedoed an ironclad, that, I repeat, proves nothing. The unfortunate thing is that it does not appear to have accomplished even that on the occasion referred to, for all efforts to find the torpedo have failed, and it is thus permissible to suppose that it missed its mark. I do not think that M. Waldeck-Rousseau could have seen the submarine effect its submersion and make for the Bouvet. The foremost quality of a submarine—its special guarantee of security—is that of being invisible. The Gustave Zédé will speedily have to be laid up if she betrays her presence so clumsily, but I have not much difficulty in reassuring myself. At the most, the Gustave Zédé could only have been seen when, instead of the vessel being nine feet below the surface, her optic tube, and probably even her cupola, were emerging above the water, an operation which is necessary for the discharge of the torpedo in the desired direction.”
In July, 1901, the Morse made an attempt to torpedo the coast-defence ship Jocyte. According to one report the Morse was ordered to sail from Cherbourg to Havre, and go for the gunboat Coeyte, which would be found moored in the Roads. Reaching Havre at night-time, the Morse, while still an hour’s run out, plunged, and continuing her voyage at eight knots an hour, approached the Coeyte unperceived, and launched three torpedoes against, her with success. The Morse then came to the surface, and was recognised by Admiral Fournier, who was on board the Coeyte. A feature of this particular experiment was the long preliminary voyage made by the submarine. Reuter, however, sent the following message relating to the same experiment: “The attempt made by the submarine Morse last night to torpedo the coast-defence ship Jocyte (sic) did not succeed, owing to the state of the sea, but the manœuvre gave certain results as showing the ability of the submarine to approach without detection. The swell prevented any torpedo from being fired.” A Dalziel message is still more emphatic as to the failure. It states that the gunboat knew long enough ahead of the approach of the submarine to repel the attack. No torpedo could be discharged because of the swell.
In December, 1901, the Narval and Morse defended Cherbourg from an attack by the coast-defence ships Bouvines and Valmy, and torpedoed these vessels, those on board not being aware of the presence of the submarines until they rose to the surface.
During some manœuvres at Cherbourg in January, 1902, the two guardships Bouvines and Tréhouart, and the torpedo-boat destroyer Cassini were attacked by the five submarines, Morse, Narval, Triton, Espadon and Français.
The Bouvines was hit at 100 yards by a torpedo fired from the Morse, which steered by periscope without showing above the surface; the Tréhouart was attacked by the Triton and the Espadon; the former came to the surface as a fishing boat got in her way, and she was put out of action; the latter fired a torpedo, which hit the Tréhouart. The Cassini evaded the Morse, but passed within range of the Français, and was torpedoed by her.
Thus of the five submarines one was put out of action, whilst all three warships were destroyed.
In March, 1902, combined manœuvres of the coast-defence ships Valmy and Jemmapes, and the submarines Algerien and Français, took place; the Algerien was able unperceived to torpedo the Valmy, while the Français succeeded in directing a torpedo at the Jemmapes. In May, 1902, the Gustave Zédé in an experimental attack on the battleship Jauréguiberry off Hyères grounded, but was subsequently refloated.