The boat was moved entirely by hand. It had an ordinary screw propeller, attached to a shaft, on which were eight cranks at different angles.  The shaft was supported by brackets on the starboard side, while the crew sat on the port side and turned the cranks, as shown in the engraving on Page 749; The shaft and cranks took up so much room that it was very difficult to pass fore and aft.  Indeed, when the men were in their places it was next to impossible. In operation, one half of the crew had to pass through the fore hatch, and other through the after hatchway. 

The torpedo was a copper cylinder holding a charge of ninety pounds of explosive set off by triggers. It was originally intended to float the torpedo on the surface of the water, towed by the boat, which was to dive under the vessel to be attacked. In experiments made with some old flatboats in smooth water,, this plan operated successfully, but in a seaway the torpedo was continually coming too near our own craft.  We then rigged a yellow pine boom, twenty-two feet long, and attached it to the bow, banded and guyed on each side. A socket on the torpedo secured it to the boom.

Such was the pioneer of the submarine warfare- of to-day-a boiler shell propelled by paddle-wheels turned by hand, with no electrical or pneumatic apparatus, and none of the modern provisions for furnishing air for the crew; yet we had no difficulty in getting volunteers to man her.  She needed a crew of nine, two of whom must be experienced in handling the boat..  The first officer was stationed forward, while the second attended to the after ballast tank and pumps and the air supply, all hands turning the cranks except the man in command.  There was just sufficient room for the two officers to stand in their places, with their heads in the hatchways, and take observations through the lights in the coamings.

http://www.thehunley.com/Engineering/alexandersketch.htm

After our experiments immobile Bay, the authorities decided that Charleston harbor, with the monitors and blockaders there, would be better field to operate in, and General  Maury had the boat sent by rail to General Beauregard, in command at Charleston.  Lieutenant John Payne, then on duty at Charleston, with eight others, volunteered to take her out.  All was in readiness for their first attack: the crew were going aboard when a swell swamped the boat, drowning the eight men in her.

The boat was raised, and Lieutenant Payne, the sole survivor of her first crew, again volunteered, with eight other men.  Again she was ready to go out when she was swamped a second time, Lieutenant Payne and two of the crew escaped but six men perished in her. 

General Beauregard then turned the craft over to a volunteer crew from Mobile, known as the Hunley and Parks crew.  Captain Hunley and Thomas Parks,, a member of the firm in whose shop the boat had been built, were in charge, with Messrs. Brockbank, Patterson, McHough, Marshall, White, Beard, and another as the crew.  Until the day this crew left Mobile, it was understood that I was to be one of them, but at the last moment Mr. Parks prevailed on me to let him take my place. Nearly all of the men had had some experience in the boat before leaving Mobile, and were well qualified to operate her.

When she had been made ready again, Captain Hunley practiced the crew in diving and rising again, until one evening, in the presence of a number of people on the wharf, when went down and remained sunk.  She had now drowned all of most of three different crews, twenty-three men in all.

Lieutenant George Dixon was a mechanical engineer, like myself, and belonging to my regiment, the Twenty-first Alabama. He had taken great interest in the boats while building, and during their operations at Mobile, and would have been one of the Hunley and Parks crew had there been a vacancy. 

S soon as we heard of the third disaster we discussed the matter together and decided to offer our services to General Beauregard to raise and operate the boats.

Our offer was accepted, and we were ordered to report to General Jordan, Chief of staff. The boat was raised and its dead were buried in the cemetery at Charleston.  There had been much speculation as to the cauls of though accident, for there could have been no swamping as in the other two cases.  The position in which she was found, showed that her bow had run deep in the mud and stuck there.  Captain Hunley’s body was forward, with the head in the forward hatchway, the right hand on the top of the head; he had been trying, it would seem to raise the hatch cover.

We soon had the boat refitted and in good shape, reported to general Jordan that she was ready for service and asked  for a crew. After many refusals and much discussion, General Beauregard finally assented to our going aboard the Confederate receiving ship Indian Chief and calling for volunteers.  He strictly enjoined upon us to give a full and clear explanation of the desperately hazardous nature of the service required,.  This was done, a crew was shipped, and after a little practice in the river we were ordered to moor the boat off Battery Marshall, on Sullivan’s Island.  Quarters were given us at Mount Pleasant seven miles from the battery.

On account of chain booms having been put around the Ironsides and the monitors in Charleston harbor to keep us off these vessels, we had to turn our attention to the fleet outside.   The nearest blockading ship, which we understood to be the United States frigate Wabash, was about twelve miles off, and we made her our objective point.

In comparatively smooth water and light current, our boat could make four miles an hour, but in rough water her speed was much less.  It was necessary to go out with the ebb and come in with the flood tide, and to have a fair wind and a dark moon.  We found that we had to come to the surface occasionally, slightly lifting the after hatchway, and letting in a little air.  Sometimes, when we rose for air, we could hear the men in the Federal picket boats talking and singing.  Our daily routine, whenever possible, was about as follows:

We would leave Mount Pleasant about one o’clock P.M., walk seven miles to Battery Marshall along the beach-this exposed us to the enemy’s fire, but it was the best walking-take the boat out, and practice the crew for two hours in the Back Bay.  Dixon and myself would then lie down on the beach with the compass between us, and get the bearings of the nearest Federal vessel as she took her position for the night,.  We would ship up the torpedo on the boom, and, when dark, go out, steering for the ship we had marked.  We would proceed until the condition of the men, the sea, the tide, the moon, the wind, or the approach of daylight compelled our return to the dock.  Then we would unship the torpedo, walk back to quarter at Mount Pleasant, and cook breakfast.

During the months of November and December, 1863, through January and the early part of February, 1864,, the wind held contrary,, making it difficult with our limited power to make much headway.  We went out on an average four nights a week, but on account of the weather and the difficulty of propelling the boat, it proved impossible to get more than six or seven mile out. We often had all we could do to get back to shore.

This suggested that while in safe water we  should find out by actual experiment how long it was possible to stay under water without coming to the surface for air.  All hands agreed to sink the boat and let her rest on the bottom in Back Bay, off Battery Marshall.  It was also agreed that if any one of the crew felt that he must have air, and gave the word "UP" we would at once bring the boat to the surface. 

One evening, after alternately diving and rising for a while, we noted the time and sank for the test.  Twenty-five minutes after I had closed the after manhead and excluded the outer air the candle would not burn.  In comparing our individual experience after words, we found that each man had determined that he would not be the first to say "UP"  Not a word was uttered except the occasional "How is it" between Dixon and myself, until at last, as the voice of one man, "UP" came from all nine..

We stated the pumps.  Dixon’s worked all right, but I soon realized that mine was not throwing.  From experience I guessed the cause of the failure, took off the cap of the pump, lifted the valve, and drew out some seaweed that had choked it.  While I was doing this, the boat was considerably by the stern.  Thick darkness prevailed, and all hands had already reached what they thought was the utmost limit of their endurance.   Some of the crew almost lost control of themselves.  But a moment later we had the boat to the surface and the manhead opened.  How glorious the fresh air was!

We had been on the bottom two hours and thirty-five minutes-more than two hours after the candle went out for lack of oxygen..  The sun had been shining when we went down, and the beach lined with soldiers, as it usually was when we were practicing in the bay.  It was now quite dark, with one solitary Confederate gazing at the spot where he had seen the boat go down.  When I called to him, he told us that we had been given up for lost, and that a messenger had been sent to General Beauregard to inform him  that the torpedo boat had gone to the bottom again,.

We continued to go out as often as the weather  permitted,, each time covering a longer distance when the wind was offshore, until at last we demonstrated to our satisfaction that we could reach the blockading squadron, as we could cover more that twelve miles when the sea was comparatively quiet.

After notifying General Beauregard of the success of our experiments it was decided to make an attack on the first clear night when a land breeze was blowing.  Our plan was to take the bearings of the Federal ships when they took position for the night; to steer for one of them, keeping about six feet under water, and occasionally coming to the surface; and, when nearing the vessel, to make a final observation before striking her, which was to be done under her counter, if possible. 

We were in readiness when I received an order which at the time was a blow to all my hopes, although only by opening it did I live to write this narrative, Briefly, it was to leave Lieutenant Dixon in charge of the boat and return to Mobile in order to build a new pattern of breech loading cannon.,   I think that all felt as I did at the time.  We had proved that the craft could be successfully operated both above and beneath the surface, in spite of the many fatalities which she had caused, and I don’t believe a man considered the danger which awaited him.  The honor of being the first to engage the enemy in this novel way overshadowed all else.

When the boat started from her moorings on that fateful February afternoon in 1864, all of the crew who had toiled and risked death during those long and weary months were in their places except myself and one other, also ordered to special duty.  When the divers searched the wreck of the Housatonic after the war, the world learned of the heroic stuff of which those men were made, and how my comrades died for the South.

Munsey's Magazine
Title: The Heroes of the Hunley
Author: W A Alexander
Date: 1903
About the Magazine:

The Munsey's Weekly, a thirty-six page quarto magazine was founded by Frank A. Munsey in 1889. His intention was to create "a magazine of the people and for the people, with pictures and art and good cheer and human interest throughout". Munsey employed John Kendrick Bangs as editor. After a few months the magazine was selling 40,000 copies a week. In 1891 Munsey took the decision to publish the magazine as a monthly and it was re-named as the Munsey's Magazine. The following year began including "a complete novel in each number".

In October, 1893 Munsey took the decision to reduce the price of the magazine to ten cents. This was a great success and by 1895 the Munsey's Magazine had a circulation of 500,000 a month. The magazine included numerous illustrations and when it began printing pictures of works of art it was attacked for its "half-dressed women and undressed statuary". As a result, some shops refused to stock the magazine. However, circulation continued to grow and by 1897 had reached 700,000.

After 1906 circulation of the magazine began to fall. By the 1920s it was down to 60,000. In July, 1921 Munsey Magazine was made an all-fiction monthly without illustrations. However, circulation continued to decline and in October, 1929, the magazine was merged with Argosy All-Story to form All-Story Combined.