A Dispatch from the Department of Wacky Weaponry
Halpine’s Torpedo
Russia would never have lost the Russo-Japanese War (1904-5) if that country’s navy had been equipped with some of the United States’ most advanced weaponry, argued a writer for the San Francisco Examiner. Among such marvels as the Stoke’s Globular Naval Battery—a floating artillery platform that resembled a half-submerged kiwi—and Doctor Barton’s Monstrous Dirigible—able to drop dynamite on enemy ships from a devastating altitude—was perhaps the most potent anti-ship weapon of them all: Halpine’s Torpedo.
This innovative weapon, the brainchild of naval Lieutenant Nicholas J. Halpine, was designed to overcome a common anti-torpedo ship defense—steel nets draped around the hull of a battleship at the waterline. After Robert Whitehead invented the first practical torpedo in 1866, designers began to outfit capital ships with a thick, protective steel mesh that could be poled out from the hull on outriggers. An incoming torpedo would detonate when it struck the mesh, rendering the weapon (relatively) harmless.
The Halpine Torpedo was created to defeat a ship’s torpedo nets. It consisted of a long copper tube shaped like a dangerous cigar. A propeller hung off the device’s stern and a long spear extended from the bow, much like the tusk of a narwhal.
The weapon was manually controlled. An operator rode in a small skiff that was towed behind the torpedo. Skiff and torpedo would slink through the night, and when the operator spotted a battleship, he would drop an anchor from his little boat and then crawl onto the back of the torpedo. Away they would fly, like Poseidon riding on the back of a dolphin. The operator steered his mount with a small control panel.
Once the torpedo was within range—less than a mile from the battleship—the operator climbed into the water and, while bobbing alone in the dark, he steered the torpedo toward the battleship. A spool of control wire unrolled as the torpedo moved away, passing the operator’s steering commands to the torpedo. The operator could also press a button to illuminate green and red lights on the rear of the torpedo, helping him to guide the torpedo toward its target.
If the operator steered straight, the spear at the torpedo’s tip would penetrate the steel, anti-torpedo netting, and strike the hull of the target. A switch closed and the torpedo’s electric motor reversed. The spear’s tip unfolded like an umbrella and snagged on the netting as the torpedo backed away. This opened a vent in the torpedo’s side, launching an explosive that shot out of the torpedo’s nose. A cable connected the warhead and the spear. As the warhead ejected from the torpedo, it would drop through the water, swing on the cable like the pendulum of a clock, and then smash against the hull that was exposed beneath the torpedo nets and explode.
Mission completed, the operator could summon the torpedo back to where he floated, climb aboard, and ride in triumph back to his skiff.
Early-twentieth century journalists praised the innovative approach to naval warfare. The U. S. Navy tested Halpine’s invention, but there is no record of it actually being used in combat.
Mystifying.
The Quill
Comet Madness
I am pleased to announce that my new book, Comet Madness: How the 1910 Visit of Halley’s Comet (Almost) Destroyed Civilization, will be published by Prometheus Books, an imprint of Rowman and Littlefield.
Synopsis:
Halley’s Comet visits the earth every seventy-five years. It has appeared in the skies since before humans possessed the ability to record its passage. The comet soared above Rome in 12 BC as Augustus’ colleague, Marcus Agrippa, lay dying. It foretold the defeat of Attila in 451. The artisans who stitched the eleventh century Bayeux Tapestry depicted the comet as a portent of the Norman Invasion. The comet burned among the constellations in 1456 as Ottoman armies thrust Turkish scimitars into the side of eastern Europe.
From time immemorial humans regarded the comet and its kin as portents of evil, heralds of doom, and omens of disaster. When the hairy stars appeared, nations fell, kings died, and natural disasters ravaged the land. In 1705 Edmond Halley liberated humanity from these primordial superstitions, proving that Newtonian mechanics rather than the will of the gods brought comets into our celestial neighborhood. Despite this scientific advance, when Halley’s Comet returned in 1910 and astronomers announced that our planet would pass through its poisonous tail, newspapers gleefully catalyzed a national hysteria that unfolded with tragic, albeit predictable, consequences.
This was Comet Madness.
The current production schedule is geared to place Comet Madness in bookstores by February 2023. I shall pass on more details as we approach that date.
Regular Features
Electric History
Does the thought of scrambling aboard one of Halpine’s torpedoes to hunt battleships excite you? Perhaps you would prefer the comfort of sneaking up on a target while inside a submarine. Just be warned that even in peacetime, the undersea service is perilous. This point was clearly illustrated in the gripping tale of Submarine S-5, a vessel that filled with water when a sailor forgot to close a valve before a dive. Read all about it here: Submarine Down.
Travel
Progress along the Via Romea Germanica stalled this month. With a university holiday looming, I hope to produce fresh installments in December. If you haven’t stumbled across the account of this epic walk from the Alps to Rome, you can read the episodes already posted.
Ho Ho Ho
Its the season for the What’s New Christmas special: a visit to Santa’s hometown. Although an energetic publicity department has convinced most children that Santa Claus comes from the North Pole, the real Saint Nicholas actually originated in Anatolia (modern-day Turkey). Join me, the Peripatetic Historian, as I explore Santa’s Hometown.
Ephemera
Installments of the Oyster Burger Chronicles, the world’s leading oyster burger review site continue to emerge. This month you will find:
The Oyster Burger Chronicles IX: The Fish Peddler, Bay Ocean, Oregon
The Oyster Burger Chronicles X: Dooger’s Seafood and Grill, Warrenton, Oregon
Stage Left
Christmas and the holiday season is upon us. This year’s festivities will be complicated by new Covid strains and a shipping crisis. Want to beat the pressure? Why not select a subscription to What’s New in Old News for the history lover in your circle of friends? The newsletter won’t show up three weeks after the scheduled delivery date, and best of all, What’s New is reasonably priced: free, like a summer rain.
Enjoy the holidays and see you again in January.