Torpedo War, and Submarine Explosions — Text and Context

Recurring Calculations and Spatial Logic

Fulton's argument depends on repeated numerical demonstrations. He computes that a fleet of one hundred 80-gun ships would form a line of 'fourteen thousand fathoms, or twenty-eight thousand yards, equal to near sixteen miles.' He then divides this force into divisions and subdivisions, but insists that conventional tactics become irrelevant when facing torpedo boats. The boats themselves are designed for rapid deployment: each can be drawn onto a beach 'above high water mark' by its twelve-man crew. Fulton estimates that fifty torpedo boats, each with twelve men (totaling six hundred), could force an 80-gun ship with six hundred men to retreat. These calculations are not abstract; they are tied to specific geographic waters, such as the British Channel between Boulogne and Romney, and the narrows from Calais to Dover.

Movement Between Scenes: From the Workshop to the Channel

The text shifts abruptly between technical description and strategic scenario. Early sections detail the construction of torpedoes with 'locks that strike fire by concussion' and 'clockwork locks,' as evidenced in Fulton's 1813 letter included in the preface. Later, he stages a hypothetical battle in the British Channel, where 'the coast of Boulogne be the scene for action.' This movement from workshop to theater is characteristic: Fulton envisions his devices not in isolation but in operation against a defined enemy. He also projects future population growth, noting that his estimate for 1920 'has already been exceeded in fact,' according to the editor's preface. The text thus oscillates between the immediate and the prophetic, grounding each leap in concrete numbers.

The Rhetoric of Inevitability and Moral Justification

Fulton anticipates objections to his invention, devoting a section to 'the imaginary inhumanity of Torpedo war.' He counters by arguing that torpedoes would make war so destructive that nations would avoid conflict altogether, a logic familiar from later deterrence theory. His language is declarative: 'it is impossible to foresee to what degree torpedoes may be improved and rendered useful.' Yet he also hedges, acknowledging that his system 'requires only to be organized and practised.' The editor's preface notes that Fulton's plan for affixing torpedoes by harpoons was designed for wooden ships and became obsolete with ironclads, but his broader claim—that torpedoes would 'produce a change in Maritime affairs of immense importance'—proved prescient. The text thus balances technical caution with sweeping prediction.

Structure as Argument: Diagrams, Estimates, and Appendices

The book's organization mirrors its argumentative strategy. After the main treatise, Fulton includes separate sections: 'Thoughts on the probable effect of this invention,' 'Estimate of the Force to Attack so Formidable a Blockade Fleet,' 'Manner of Arranging the Boats Until Wanted,' and two 'Modes of Attack.' These are not mere appendices but integral to the persuasive structure. The plates (I through V) are referenced in the table of contents and presumably illustrate the torpedo mechanisms and boat formations. The editor's preface, written during World War I, underscores the timeliness of Fulton's ideas, noting that 'only his plan of affixing torpedoes to their prey by means of harpoons seems…fantastic.' This layered structure—original text plus later commentary—invites readers to compare Fulton's predictions with subsequent developments.

Readers approaching Torpedo War, and Submarine Explosions should attend to the interplay between Fulton's technical diagrams and his geopolitical reasoning. The work is not a narrative but a proposal, and its power lies in the specificity of its calculations. The editor's preface provides useful context, but the core text rewards close reading of its numerical claims and spatial arrangements. Fulton's vision of maritime warfare, though rooted in the age of sail, anticipates the submarine conflicts of the twentieth century.

Reading Fulton’s careful calculations about torpedo boats, I felt that odd ache for a time when such plans felt like futures worth fighting for. It reminded me of the quiet, almost lonely patience in Battle Studies; Ancient and Modern Battle — Story, Setting & Ideas, where strategy reads less like glory and more like a long, private conversation with what has passed. Some books just hold that stillness.