CHAPTER VI

THE AIRSHIP

So far in our story we have traced the origin and progress of the

balloon, showing how from small beginnings it has grown to be an

important invention, of great use to the scientific observer, the

soldier, and the explorer, and the means of teaching us much fresh

knowledge.

But in spite of the high hopes of early aeronauts, and the extravagant

prophecies made when the first balloons ascended into the sky, it has

long been evident that the balloon alone has not solved the problem

of human flight or accomplished the conquest of the air. An ordinary

balloon is, in fact, nothing more than a mere lifting machine, no more

capable of sailing the sky, in the proper sense of the word, than a

cork floating in the water is capable of sailing the sea. It has no

movement of its own, but drifts simply at the mercy of the wind, and

quite beyond control. By the discharge of ballast, or by the letting

out of gas, the aeronaut can indeed cause it to rise or sink at

pleasure, and sometimes when two currents of air are blowing aloft in

different directions at the same time he may, by passing from one to

the other, “tack” his balloon to some extent across the sky. Otherwise

he has no power of guiding or directing it in the least degree, and

should he lose sight of the earth above the clouds, has even no method

of telling in which direction he is travelling.

Early inventors thought they would be able to steer balloons by means

of sails, like a boat, but they soon found that this was impossible.

The effect of hoisting a sail at the side of a balloon was merely to

swing the balloon round until the sail was in front, while meantime it

continued its course unaltered. The use of a rudder and other means

were also tried, but without success; nor can such methods ever hope to

succeed so long as a balloon floats in the air at the same pace as the

wind that carries it forward. A balloon travelling with the wind may be

compared to a boat drifting idly with the tide. As long as she drifts

she refuses to answer her rudder, which swings idly. But presently the

boatman hoists a sail, and the wind carries the boat onwards faster

than the tide, and then immediately the rudder comes into action. Or

should there be no wind, he may accomplish the same thing by dragging

an anchor or other weight in the water, and so slowing his boat down

until it moves slower than the current; he will then again find that

his boat will answer her helm.

To steer his course in a balloon, therefore, the aeronaut must so

arrange that he is travelling faster or slower than the wind in which

he finds himself. To travel faster, he must employ some sort of engine

or motor to drive his craft onwards. To travel slower, he must trail

something along the ground beneath to act as a drag.

Part of the equipment of every balloon is a long trail-rope, which,

when the balloon is aloft, hangs some 300 feet below the car. The

object of this rope is to break the force of the fall when the balloon

comes down to the earth at the end of the voyage. In the greater number

of cases a balloon, in its final swoop to the ground, falls the last

few hundred feet with considerable, and often uncomfortable, speed. But

when provided with a trail-rope, as it descends more and more of the

heavy rope will lie along the ground, and so lighten the weight of the

balloon, and lessen the shock of falling.

If then a trail-rope were used of such length that it would sweep along

the ground while the balloon was flying in the air, the effect would

be to put a drag or brake on the balloon, and so render it capable of

being steered to some extent with a sail; and this is what has actually

been done in all attempts of the kind. But since a long rope dragging

rapidly across the country is a very dangerous object, capable of doing

great damage, and also liable to catch in trees and other obstacles,

such experiments can only be tried with safety over the sea, or, as in

the case of Andrée’s voyage, over desert or uninhabited country.

The best way of steering a balloon, therefore, is to provide it with

some mechanical power which shall urge it onwards at a greater speed

than the wind; and when this is done, it has ceased to be a balloon in

the popular sense of the word, and has become an “airship.”

There is a great deal of confusion between the terms “airship,” and

“flying machine,” and the two words are often considered as meaning

the same thing. But while, strictly speaking, neither word in itself

has any very definite meaning, it is gradually becoming more general

to apply them to two widely different objects. According to this plan,

although both names stand for an aerial vessel capable of travelling

in the sky by its own motion, an airship is a machine supported in the

air by reason of its buoyancy, while a flying machine is kept aloft

only by virtue of its onward movement.

In other words, part of the construction of an airship consists of a

bag or balloon, filled with gas or hot air, which causes the whole to

rise and maintain its position in the air. This balloon part is quite

independent of the machinery which drives the airship forward, and

indeed if the engine ceases working, the vessel becomes nothing more

than an ordinary balloon in its nature, and will behave like one. An

airship, therefore, is in principle an apparatus lighter than air.

A flying machine, on the contrary, is heavier than air, and maintains

its position aloft merely by the power it obtains from its engines,

assisted by its special construction. The inventors of flying machines

take as their analogy the flight of birds. Birds are creatures

heavier than air, which yet manage to rise and fly by reason of the

strength and construction of their wings. In the same way the heavy

flying machine essays to fly by the power of its machinery. And, as

a bird aloft, if its wings became disabled, would instantly drop

towards earth, so a flying machine would immediately commence to fall

if its engine stopped or ceased to move with sufficient power. The

airship and the flying machine, therefore, may be regarded as rival

aerial vessels, and their inventors and advocates, sometimes known

as “lighter-than-air-ites” and “heavier-than-air-ites,” though both

working for the same end, are endeavouring to accomplish their aim by

widely different methods.

Up to the present day the airship--to which we will first turn our

attention--has been much more largely and successfully experimented

with than the flying machine. It is, however, the opinion of many,

including the great authority Sir Hiram Maxim, that in the future the

flying machine will become the more important invention of the two.

“In all Nature,” says Sir Hiram, “we do not find a single balloon. All

Nature’s flying machines are heavier than air.” And from this he argues

that, as Nature is ever our best guide and example, a flying machine

heavier than air will be in the end most likely to succeed.

One of the earliest airships which achieved any success was invented

by a Frenchman, M. Giffard, about the year 1852. He made his balloon

of an elongated or cigar shape, a form adopted by airship inventors

as offering less resistance to the air than the ordinary globular or

pear shape. To this balloon, which was 104 feet long and 39 feet in

diameter, he attached a steam-engine of three-horse power, weighing 462

lbs. and working a screw-propeller, which, by its rapid revolutions,

urged the balloon onwards through the air, even as the screw of a

steamship urges the vessel through the water. With this apparatus he

succeeded on one occasion, for a very short while, in obtaining a speed

of six and a half miles an hour. Twenty years later another Frenchman,

M. Dupuy de Lôme, constructed another airship; but fearing to place an

engine so near the gas of his balloon, he used the strength of eight

men to work his screw. This was a very wasteful mode of supplying

energy, for the weight of the men was very great in proportion to

their strength, and this machine, during its trial, did not attain as

great a speed as Giffard’s. Twelve years after a third Frenchman, M.

Tissandier, took up the same experiments. His elongated balloon was

smaller than the two previous, and his engine was an electric motor of

one and a half horse-power. On one occasion a speed of nearly eight

miles an hour was attained.

By this time the French Government had become interested in the work,

and provided money to continue investigations. The result of this was

that in 1885 two officers of the French army, Captains Renard and

Krebs, brought out by far the most successful airship yet constructed.

It was 165 feet long, 27 feet in diameter, and was driven by an

electric motor of nine horse-power. That this machine proved itself

perfectly capable of being guided in the air is amply shown by the

fact that it returned to its shed five times out of the seven on which

it was publicly taken out. It also attained a speed of fourteen miles

an hour, and indeed it would seem that Renard and Krebs, although their

names are now almost forgotten, accomplished nearly as great things

twenty years ago as the popular airship inventors of the present day.

One of the greatest difficulties with which early inventors had to

contend was the enormous weight of their engines. The machinery they

were obliged to use to drive their airships through the air weighed

more than their balloons, unless made of unwieldy size, had power

to lift. The same difficulty indeed exists at the present time,

though to a much less degree. Of late years, and especially since

the introduction of the motor-car, great progress has been made in

the construction of light but powerful engines, or motors, and the

employment of petrol vapour instead of coal or oil has very greatly

lessened the weight of the fuel which has to be carried.

In consequence of this improvement many airships have recently been

made which have met with varying success, and many more are at the

present moment in process of construction. Among the host of inventors,

whose names it would here be impossible even to mention, three stand

out from the rest in special prominence--Zeppelin, Santos Dumont, and

Stanley Spencer--all three the inventors of airships which have, by

actual experience, proved their power of steering a course across the

sky.

Of these rival airships, by far the largest and most elaborate was

that built by the first named, Count Zeppelin, a distinguished veteran

soldier of the German army. For many years he had spent his time and

fortune in making experiments in aerial navigation, and at length in

1900, having formed a company and collected a large sum of money for

the purpose, he produced an enormous airship, which, from its size,

has been compared to a man-of-war. In shape Count Zeppelin’s invention

resembled a gigantic cigar, 420 feet in length, pointed at both ends.

The framework was made of the specially light metal aluminium, covered

over with silk, and though from outside it looked all in one piece,

within it was divided into seventeen compartments, each holding a

separate balloon made of oiled silk and absolutely gas-tight. The

object of this was to prevent the tendency the gas has to collect all

at one end as the ship forces its way through the air. These balloons

were filled with pure hydrogen, the cost of the inflation alone being

£500. Beneath was slung a long gangway, 346 feet in length, with two

cars, also made of aluminium, attached to it. In these cars were placed

two motor-engines of sixteen horse power each, driven by benzine, and

working a pair of screw-propellers attached to the balloon. A steering

apparatus was placed at each end, and the whole machine, with five

passengers, weighed about eleven tons.

[Illustration: ZEPPELIN’S AIRSHIP OVER LAKE CONSTANCE.]

To lessen the effects of a possible fall, the experiments were carried

out over water, and the great airship was housed in a shed built on

Lake Constance. The cost of this shed alone was enormous, for it was

elaborately constructed on pontoons, and anchored in such a way that

it could be turned round to allow the airship to be liberated from it

in the best direction to suit the wind. The trial trip was made one

evening in June 1900, when a very light wind was blowing. The great

machine rose into the air, carrying Zeppelin and four companions to a

height of 800 feet. The steering apparatus then being put into action,

it circled round and faced the wind, remained stationary for a short

while, and then sank gracefully and gently upon the water. A few days

later another and more successful trial was made. The wind at the time

was blowing at sixteen miles an hour, but in spite of this the airship

slowly steered its course against the wind for three and a half miles,

when, one of the rudders breaking, it was obliged to come down. On

one or two other occasions also it made successful voyages, proving

itself to be perfectly manageable and capable of being steered on an

absolutely calm day. The expense of the experiments was, however,

tremendous; money fell short, and the great machine, the result of many

years’ labour and thought, has since been abandoned and broken up.

[Illustration: SANTOS DUMONT’S AIRSHIP.]

A far happier fate has so far attended the efforts of the brave young

Brazilian, Albert Santos Dumont. The wealthy son of a successful

coffee-planter, he had always from his boyhood been keenly interested

in aeronautics, and, coming to Paris, he constructed in 1898 an

airship of a somewhat novel kind. His balloon was cigar-shaped, 83

feet long, and holding 6500 feet of pure hydrogen. Attached to the

balloon, and working a propeller, was a small motor like those used

for motor cycles, and astride of this Santos Dumont rode, bicycle

fashion, steering his course with a rudder. In this ingenious machine

he ascended from the Botanical Gardens in Paris and circled several

times round the large captive balloon then moored there, after which

he made a number of bold sweeps in the air, until an accident occurred

to his engine and he came precipitately to the ground. Though shaken he

was by no means discouraged, and declared his intention of continuing

his experiments until he should have invented an airship which, in his

own words, should be “not a mere plaything, but a practical invention,

capable of being applied in a thoroughly useful fashion.”

Accordingly he constructed one machine after another, gaining fresh

knowledge by each new experience, and profiting by the accidents and

failures which continually beset him in his dangerous and daring work.

Before long also he received an additional incentive to his labours.

Early in the year of 1900 it was announced by the Paris Aero Club, a

society of Frenchmen interested in aeronautical matters, that one of

its members, M. Deutsch, had offered a prize of 100,000 francs--about

£4000--to the man who, starting from the Aero Club grounds at

Longchamps in a balloon or flying machine, should steer his course

right round the Eiffel Tower and back to the starting-place--a distance

of three and a half miles--within half an hour. If the prize were not

won within a certain time, his offer was to be withdrawn, and meanwhile

he promised a certain sum of money every year for the encouragement of

aeronautical experiments.

The offer of this reward set many inventors to work upon the

construction of various aerial vessels of all kinds, but from the

beginning Santos Dumont was well to the fore. By the middle of 1901

he had completed what was his sixth airship--a cigar-shaped balloon,

100 feet long, its propeller worked by a motor-car engine of fifteen

horse-power--and with it, on July 15th, he made a splendid attempt

for the prize. Starting from the Club grounds, he reached the Eiffel

Tower in thirteen minutes, and, circling round it, started back on

his homeward journey. But this time his voyage was against the wind,

which was really too strong for the success of his experiment; part

of his engine broke down, and the balance of the vessel became upset;

and although he managed to fight his way back to the starting point,

he arrived eleven minutes behind time, and so failed to fulfil M.

Deutsch’s conditions.

Again, on the 9th of August, having in the meantime made further

trials with his machine, he embarked on another attempt to carry off

the prize. He chose the early hours of the morning, starting shortly

after six from the Club grounds, where only a few friends, among them

the keenly interested M. Deutsch, were present. The day was apparently

perfect, and when, after the lapse of five minutes only, he had reached

the Tower and swung gracefully round it, every one was convinced that

this time the prize was certain to be won. But the homeward journey

was all against the wind, which was blowing more powerfully aloft than

on the ground, and suddenly the onlookers were horrified to see the

fore part of the balloon double right back. By so doing the silken

envelope became torn and the gas began escaping. Rapidly the balloon

appeared to wither up and shrink together. The engine was seen still

to be working, though no progress was now being made. Then the whole

apparatus collapsed utterly, and fell with sickening speed upon the

house-tops.

Deutsch and his companions watched the fall horror-struck, and jumping

into their motorcars hurried to the spot, convinced that a fatal

accident must have occurred. But they found that, although the airship

was smashed to pieces, its plucky inventor had almost miraculously

escaped unhurt. The wrecked machine had fallen upon the roof of a house

in such a way that the keel had caught upon a corner, and the car,

which was fastened to it, hung at a perilous angle down the side of

a wall. Fortunately Dumont was secured to his car by a leather belt,

and he managed to hold on, though in considerable danger lest the keel

should break and let him fall, until rescued by a fireman with a rope.

His machine was hopelessly ruined; but when asked what he intended to

do next he merely answered: “Begin again. Only a little patience is

necessary.”

A new machine, “Santos Dumont VII.,” was ready in less than a month,

and tested on the 6th of September. It behaved beautifully, and all

went well until the trail-rope caught in a tree. In liberating it the

framework became bent, and the airship was being towed back to its

shed when a sudden gust of wind tore it away from those who held it.

It immediately rose into the air, and on Dumont opening the valve the

whole collapsed and fell to earth with a great shock. Again the lucky

inventor escaped unhurt, though owning this time that he had “felt

really frightened.” Ten days later, in another trial, the airship came

in contact with some trees, which pierced the silk and let out the gas,

so that it fell precipitately twenty feet. But the aeronaut appeared to

bear a charmed life, for once more he was none the worse for the fall.

Several other unsuccessful trials followed, and then, on the 19th of

October, Santos Dumont made another grand attempt for the prize.

Starting with the wind in his favour, his machine travelled at the

rate of thirty miles an hour, and rounded the Eiffel Tower in nine

minutes. But in the journey homewards the airship had to struggle with

a wind blowing at thirteen miles an hour. In endeavouring to “tack”

the machinery became upset, and Dumont, leaving his car, crawled

along the framework to the motor, which he succeeded in putting in

order again. But this naturally occasioned some delay, and though he

accomplished the rest of his journey in eight minutes, the Committee at

first decided he had exceeded the allotted time by forty seconds, and

so had lost the prize. Great popular indignation was excited by this

decision, for public sympathy was all with the daring and persistent

young Brazilian, and M. Deutsch himself was most anxious he should

receive the award. Finally, he was considered to have fairly won it,

and the money, which he afterwards divided among the poor, was formally

presented to him.

Early in the next year Santos Dumont continued his experiments at

Monaco, and on one occasion came down in the sea, and had to be rescued

in the Prince of Monaco’s own steam yacht. After this there was a talk

of further voyages being made in England, but the project came to

nothing, and although Dumont made other ascents in Paris in the summer

of 1903, he does not appear to have eclipsed his previous record.

But although Santos Dumont came through all his accidents and perils

so happily, his example led to terrible disaster on the part of a

luckless imitator. In 1902 M. Severo, also a Brazilian, was fired with

a desire to share his fellow-countryman’s fame, and he also constructed

an airship with which he proposed to do great things. But while Dumont

was a skilled aeronaut of large experience, as well as a mechanician,

Severo knew scarcely anything about the subject, and had only been

aloft once or twice. Proof of his ignorance is shown by the fact that

his motor-engine was placed only a few feet away from the valve through

which the gas from the balloon would escape.

The ascent took place in Paris early in the morning of the 12th of May,

and was witnessed, unhappily, by Severo’s wife and son. Bidding them

good-bye, he stepped into the car, and, accompanied by an assistant,

rose above the town. The balloon rose steadily, and appeared to steer

well. Then Severo commenced to throw out ballast, and when the airship

had risen 2000 feet it was suddenly seen to burst into a sheet of

flame. A terrible explosion followed, and then the whole fell to the

ground a hopeless wreck, and the two men were dashed to pieces in

the fall. It is believed that this dreadful disaster, which recalls

the fate of Pilâtre de Rozier, was caused by the hydrogen gas, which

escaped from the valve during the rapid rise, becoming ignited by the

engine, which, as has been said, was placed dangerously close.

Nor was this, unhappily, the only accident of the kind in Paris during

the year. Only five months later, on the 13th of October, Baron Bradsky

ascended with an assistant in a large airship of his own invention.

Through faulty construction, the steel wires which fastened the car to

the balloon broke, the two became separated, the car fell, and its

occupants were killed on the spot.

So far, the credit of the only English airship which has yet flown

rests with Mr. Stanley Spencer, the well-known aeronaut. Mr. Spencer

comes of a race of aeronauts. His grandfather, Edward Spencer, was the

great friend and colleague of Charles Green, and shared with him some

of his chief ballooning adventures, notably the terrible voyage when

Cocking lost his life. Green stood godfather to Edward Spencer’s son,

who was christened Charles Green after him. He also grew up to be an

aeronaut, and made several inventions and improvements relating to

balloons and flying machines. His love of ballooning, inherited from

his father, has been passed on to his children, and his three eldest

sons, Percival, Arthur, and Stanley, are chief among British aeronauts,

and indeed have practically the monopoly of professional ballooning

and balloon manufacture in Great Britain. Nor have they confined

themselves to this country. All three have taken their balloons and

parachutes to distant parts of the world, and among their many hundreds

of ascents, both abroad and at home, have met with all manner of

exciting and perilous adventures, though never yet with serious mishap.

Their knowledge of practical aeronautics, then, is unrivalled, and Mr.

Stanley Spencer had the experience of three generations to guide him

when, in 1902, he set to work to build an airship which he had long

been devising.

His first machine was a comparatively small one, capable only of

lifting a light man. It took the usual form of a cigar-shaped balloon,

the framework of which was built of bamboo, driven forward by a

screw-propeller worked by a small petrol engine. Warned by the fate of

the unfortunate Severo, Mr. Spencer placed his engine far away from the

valve. Profiting also by Santos Dumont’s experience, he constructed

his balloon in such a manner that, should it become torn and the gas

escape, the empty silk would collapse into the form of a parachute and

break the fall. Furthermore, there was an arrangement by which, while

aloft, ordinary air could be forced into the balloon to replace any

loss of gas, and so keep the silk always fully inflated and “taut”--a

very important factor in a machine that has to be driven forward

through the atmosphere.

With this airship Mr. Spencer, as also his equally daring wife, made

several highly successful trials at the Crystal Palace, when it was

found to steer well and answer its helm most satisfactorily. Mr.

Spencer also made two long voyages, from London and from Blackpool, on

both of which occasions he found he could manœuvre his airship with

considerable success, make circular flights, and sail against the

wind, provided it was blowing only at moderate speed.

Encouraged by his success, he next built a similar but much larger

machine, nearly a hundred feet long, holding 30,000 cubic feet of gas,

and driven by a petrol motor of twenty-four horse-power. In this case

the propeller, instead of being placed at the rear, as in general, is

at the front of the airship, thereby pulling it forward through the

air instead of pushing it from behind. By this arrangement Mr. Spencer

thinks his balloon would have less tendency to double up when urged

against a strong wind. The steering is done by a rudder sail at the

stern, and to cause his machine to sail higher or lower, the aeronaut

points its head up or down by means of a heavy balance-rope.

This new airship was ready by the summer of 1903, but the unfavourable

weather of that stormy season again and again interfered with the

experiments. On the 17th of September Mr. Spencer announced his

intention of sailing from the Crystal Palace round the dome of St.

Paul’s, and returning to his starting-place. The Cathedral was indeed

safely reached, but the increasing breeze, now blowing half a gale,

baffled all his attempts to circle round. Again and again, till his

hands were cut and bleeding with the strain of the ropes, he brought

his machine up, quivering, to the wind, but all to no purpose, until at

length, abandoning the attempt, he sailed with the current to Barnet.

More favourable results may doubtless be looked for with better weather

conditions.

In France during 1903 the brothers Lebaudy made some successful trips

with an airship of their own construction. Many other airships are

now being built in all parts of the world, in preparation for the

aeronautical competitions to take place in America on the occasion of

the St. Louis Exhibition of this year.

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