must have produced conflicting opinions in the minds of many more
conservative brother officers; but what must have been the effect of
the next assertion? namely, “the more novelties the better.”
Lord Wolseley believed in what Napoleon said: “You must change your
tactics frequently.”
The first impression made by his ascent of 500 feet, elicited the
General’s approval.
In the course of a conversation with one of his staff, Lord Wolseley
stated that “had he been able to employ balloons in the earlier stages
of the Soudan campaign, the affair would not have lasted as many months
as it did years.”
We get therefore a very high testimony as to the value of the balloon
for military objects, and as the exploits of our war balloons do not
amount, at present, to anything particularly noteworthy, the General’s
encouraging remarks will have an excellent effect, it may fairly be
presumed.
The most recent effort in this line, near Dover, was not successful.
The balloon “Sentinel” was filled and essayed to watch the volunteers,
but was forced to retire with the most eccentric capers--owing to the
freaks of rude Boreas, which was, after all, merely imparting useful
instruction, though not particularly pleasing, probably, to the officer
who occupied the seat of honour.
It is, doubtless, a matter to rejoice over, that he was not blown out
over the adjacent coast line; had he been driven away down Channel in
a small skin balloon under the influence of a north-easterly wind, he
might have touched the extreme corner of the French coast, or been sent
down betwixt the Channel Islands.
Happily, however, there was no fresh fatality to lament over, and
the instructions imparted by the clerk of the weather as to the
impracticability of captive ascents during strong winds will not be
lost, and may prove of the greatest importance, so that it is well
worth while referring to it as a warning for future caution.
As the writer of this book holds it to be his province, and his duty as
a practical man to review both sides of public opinion respecting his
speciality, he considers it right to state, that the representatives
of the press, like the representatives of our constituencies in
parliament, do not all take one and the same view about military
ballooning; neither do superior officers or the rank-and-file, who, in
these advanced days are quite capable of drawing their own conclusions.
A paragraph which I read in the Court Society Review, was to this
effect.
“I have very little faith in military balloons for the purposes of
observation. In the Soudan no atmospheric conditions, and many were
tried, were found to be suitable, for even when the air was dead-still,
and brilliantly clear, the balloon waggled to such an extent as to
make telescopic observation impossible, or, at any rate, practically
useless. At the Easter Monday fight, an infinitely more futile attempt
was made to employ the balloon in a stiffish breeze, and the result
was, of course, as worthless as the experiment was dangerous.
“All the same, for signalling, especially at night, captive balloons
might be made of immense use.”
Secondly, we have another rather discouraging experience, which ought
not to be forgotten or omitted in these pages.
It is in McClellan’s own story, about their doings on April 11th, 1862,
and is rather amusing than complimentary to the cause I have so long
advocated.
“I am just recovering,” the writer observes, “from a terrible scare.
Early this morning I was awakened by a despatch from Fitz-John’s
head-quarters, stating that Fitz had made an ascension in the balloon
this morning, and that it had broken away and come to the ground some
three miles south-west, which would be within the enemy’s lines.
“You can imagine how I felt. I at once sent off to the various pickets
to find out what they knew, and tried to do something to save him,
but the order had no sooner gone, than in walks Fitz, just as cool
as usual. He had luckily come down near my own camp, after actually
passing over that of the enemy.
“You may rest assured of one thing,” was the remark: “you won’t catch
me in the confounded balloon, nor will I allow any other General in it.”
On the converse side, it should be mentioned that in a telegram
received at Washington during the Civil War, it was stated, “that all
the information received from _balloons_, deserters, prisoners, &c.,
agrees in the statement that the mass of the rebel troops were still in
the immediate vicinity of Richmond, ready to defend it.”
As a pioneer myself in the service of military ballooning, I heartily
wish that something more had been carried out in the decidedly
important neighbourhood of Suakim.
I was constantly suggesting plans; among others, to take out an
apparatus and holder for the generation of coal gas, feeling persuaded
that at a short notice, an enterprising private firm would have sent
out an equipment with the necessary men and coals, to generate gas on
the old quick and cheap plan, in addition to the compressed hydrogen
system. There are, certainly, some advantages in employing the lighter
gas, but several counter and compensating results might be adduced
on the other side, one of which is, that in a hot climate, pure
hydrogen will escape quicker than the denser production, and, I have
no hesitation in saying, that a small skin balloon behaves itself in
a breeze with an infinitely less steady action, than a more enlarged
surface with greater vertical power imparted to it, which is one out
of many of those secrets of success, which men of long experience are
well aware of, and I do believe that a certain amount of co-operation
between civilian experts, and the military engineers would be attended
with good results.
I am not referring particularly to the English school of balloonists,
but to foreign corps as well.
It is a regrettable fact that one cannot perceive in the whole list of
balloon transactions in warfare, either at home or abroad, any deeds
that are at present conspicuously worth chronicling. The splendid
exodus of hastily organised balloonists, chiefly sailors, who went out
of Paris during the Franco-German War, can scarcely be called military
ballooning.
There was no strategy, exceptional skill, or discoveries to mark and
dignify their departure or descent; only a most valuable and timely
postal and parcels delivery transmission.
This was excellent auxiliary aid, and altogether _sui generis_, but it
was not manœuvring with the enemy or rendering fresh intelligence which
could not be gained by ordinary scouts, I mean in a strictly military
sense. The winged messengers (pigeons) were certainly helped in their
work by having a lift up on their outward journey; but what we should
like to hear of, when balloons show up in war time, is that something
important has been seen and reported which would have escaped notice
but for the argus-eyed aëronauts.
A considerable amount of bewilderment, as we have said, accompanies a
novice’s first glance of the earth’s surface, when villages, fields,
towns and fortresses, are seen under a new aspect, with minimised
proportions reduced to the model size, and seen from above instead of
horizontally.
It requires a trained observer to make heads, tails, and relative
proportions out of the new map, and if any altitude has to be attained,
very small machines will not do, they may be light and of little
capacity, but they are unable to offer a powerful upward tug, which is
indispensable for steadying the balloon when telescopic observations
have to be made.
The action of diminutive machines of this kind may not inaptly be
compared to the jerking, fitful movement, of certain small birds, such
as a tomtit, or a titlark, as contrasted with the soaring power of an
eagle, or the steadied poise of a hawk.
The balloon, under which Lord Wolseley took a bird’s-eye view,
is described as “a magnificent spic and span new aërial machine,
constructed of the new preparation of _bullock’s skin_, and capable
of containing 10,000 feet of compressed gas,” by which is meant, I
presume, 10,000 feet of hydrogen gas that has been compressed and
subsequently liberated into the said balloon.
If I were questioned as to the value of this kind of material for the
objects intended by the designers, I should, certainly, not speak
disparagingly of it, because I think that skin may be very good in
its way, but I believe that a certain quality of silk, all things
considered, is more reliable, and if it is heavier than skin, it is
more readily repaired in case of fracture, and would better resist the
shrivelling effects of a hot atmosphere, and of sudden gusts of wind.
Silk is also less tempting to the gnawing of insects.
If it is supposed that the use of skin is a new adaptation, I can
remove any false impression of that sort by stating that half a century
since, I saw and handled a huge balloon composed of similar animal
substance, which was called Egg’s folly. The gunmaker had built an
enormous fish shaped affair, and it had, fish like, an air bladder to
assist it in rising and descending. I was asked to buy the lot which
had been laid by for some years, but it was not to my taste; later
on, however, after Mr. Barnum had brought over the dwarf, Tom Thumb,
to this country, an exhibition was got up at the Surrey Zoological
Gardens, and Mr. C. Green was asked to provide a suitable balloon to
take up Tom Thumb for a captive ascent.
The air bladder then cropped up, as it would lift fifty or sixty pounds
when filled with ordinary gas, and I well remember witnessing the
ascent, and shaking hands with the occupant of the little car.
I was informed afterwards by the veteran himself, that Captain Currie,
who was a frequent voyager at that time, wished to train and lose
weight, so that the skin balloon would take him up, if filled with
hydrogen instead of coal gas.
I do not think the trial came off, but I can vouch for it, that the
so-called bullock’s skin is by no means a novel departure.
We thus learn that history repeats itself, even in an art which is
practically little more than a century old.
If we turn from the balloon force at home, and direct a glance towards
the continent, as much difference is to be observed in their aërostatic
pretensions, as there is between our small and compact army, when
compared with the millions of bayonets (and good ones no doubt) that
are ready to do battle whenever the dogs of war shall be let loose for
slaughter.
In England, preference is shown for exceedingly small bullock’s skin
balloons.
In France they are cigar or cannon shaped, with steering power and
propelling machinery attached. I am referring, now, to the war balloons
at Meudon.
Germany inclines to medium sized spherical balloons, composed of silk
by preference--and I think they are right--to the calico or muslin
balloons in store at Chatham or Lidsing.
Russia, if we may believe newspaper accounts, is provided with an air
torpedo, besides Montgolfier, and gas balloons. The torpedo air ship
can take up eight hundredweight of dynamite, the application of which I
have already pictured.
An American novelty consists of an electro dynamic air ship, in the
form of a cigar cut lengthways, which presents a flat underside, and a
rounded upper; it is constructed of seven independent cells, which are
divided longitudinally, making fourteen separate compartments in all.
Among the attractions proposed for the Paris exhibition of 1889, is a
captive balloon, having a capacity of 1,800,000 cubic feet, which will
take up one hundred passengers.
Then comes the most wonderful invention of all, a balloon which is to
surpass in speed the Flying Scotchman. The German Government is stated
to have purchased this monster for a million marks, and the constructor
is to have a handsome pension for life. I do not believe it!
Now, if these formidable rivals are bent on mischief, and find an
opportunity of indulging their destructive propensities, there will be
lively and sensational diversions overhead, no less than frightful work
beneath, particularly if the torpedoes act their part as expected.
Many scientific men, and all the professional aëronauts, with whom I
am acquainted, regard this tall talk, not altogether in a literal and
serious light, but as a scare and exchange of swagger between those
powers who desire to be thought most efficient in modern appliances
for warfare. Be that as it may, there can be no doubt that vast sums
of money have been expended, and extensive preparations made, in
aërostatic material.
There is something about all this boasting and threatening which is
calculated to disturb the serenity of susceptible persons, when they
read of hundreds of pounds of dynamite and chemical compounds being
cast down upon contending armies, and about forts blown up, especially
when it is remembered that no shields or ramparts are ever raised, or
dreamt of, to resist a vertical onslaught from the regions above. This
mode of attack would, to all intents and purposes, prove a novelty, and
the question is, whether the lieutenants of our far seeing general,
who approves of new tactics, are prepared to resist this kind of thing
should a detachment of air torpedoes swarm like wasps or locusts upon
our numerically small army, or should they even seek out our tiny war
balloons and demolish them with a fell swoop of explosives.
The bare idea of such an ignominious extinction brings us to the vital
question of how such intruders could be sent to the right about, or
brought low by arms of precision.
Lieutenant B. Baden-Powell, in his able lecture at the Royal United
Service Institution, took the danger into consideration; not I think
under any apprehension about the descent of dynamite shells, but simply
of the customary missiles which are discharged from cannon and small
arms. We may infer that air torpedoes and such like were not dreaded.
Mr. Baden-Powell starts from an apt and thrilling commencement when he
says--
“First then, the chance of being wrecked by shots from the enemy.
“It must be remembered,” he goes on to say, “that the balloon would
generally be some way behind the first line, and that the enemy would
hardly, especially during the heat of battle, pay much attention to it.
It is well to remember that if only hit by a few bullets it would not
be much damaged, and could be quickly repaired. Both at Frankfort and
at Frankenthal the balloons were penetrated by bullets, at the latter
place by nine, but the balloon remained up three-quarters of an hour
after. In some experiments made at Tours, a balloon was penetrated by
bullets at 1,000 yards, but the escape of gas was very slow, and the
balloon remained up some time longer.
“_Secondly_--and now comes a case in point which should not be lightly
passed over, it is this--
“In 1880 the Siege Operations’ Committee made an experiment at
Dungeness with rather more disastrous results for the balloon. An
eight-inch howitzer was directed on a captive balloon 2,000 yards off,
and 800 feet high. The first shot was unsuccessful, the exact range
not being known. The second shell, however, burst just in front of the
balloon and tore it open. But even then it took fifteen minutes to
descend, so that the aëronauts would have been safe.” Later tests have
also taken place.
Many persons would think, and as many more might argue with some show
of common sense on their side, that the actual safety of a party of
balloonists after their machine had been torn open by a shell from an
eight-inch howitzer was perilous in the extreme; but the lecturer had
no such fears probably, as he went on with unmoved visage, I daresay,
to remark that “bullets made of spongy platinum had been suggested as a
means of igniting the hydrogen in a balloon by mere contact.”
But these stirring and well nigh nerve-testing quotations need not be
dwelt upon to any further extent, they suffice to show that the risks,
without taking into consideration the doings of those horrid torpedoes,
have been fairly weighed.
If the dynamiters put in an appearance, and manage by skilful steering
to be in at close quarters, then all I have to say is Heaven help those
who may be in their power.
While contemplating this all important phase of aërostatics, I
sometimes wonder whether these and other equally important ideas have
ever entered into the fertile brains of those, whose province it is
to lead and direct the military balloon tactics. There are, I have no
hesitation in saying, at this critical period of our national history,
uses for balloons even in this country, considering its position
and possible surroundings, which I could point out if they would be
listened to, and which at no distant period may be found unprovided for
when most needed.
I recollect when first I talked over with Major Grover, R.E., who went
up with me, my plan for using small and large balloons for destructive
purposes, I had such a friendly but scathing glance that I at once
interpreted his meaning to the effect that “anything of that sort would
not be countenanced at head-quarters.”
Well, I have lived to draw attention to the very suggestions which were
lightly esteemed a quarter of a century since, but I will not allude to
any fresh conceptions at the present time.
Sir Edward Birkbeck, M.P., has done useful service in narrating not
long since his experiences with me in the year 1862. Observations for
military purposes were gone into, and our ascent made in the presence
of His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales and the Duke of Sutherland
was narrated with spirit. Instructive comments followed, and war
balloons were referred to which have since been spoken of in a pleasing
letter, wherein Sir Edward gave evidence that he still has a taste for
scientific ballooning.
[Illustration]
REMARKABLE ASCENTS DURING THIS CENTURY.
At no time during my own recollection, has an attempt, to reach a great
height, been heralded with greater stir and interest than the voyage by
Messrs. Jovis and Mallet from Paris, on August 13th, 1887.
In England, scientific men, professional aëronauts, and the public,
regarded it with favour and admiration, that is, so far as their
spirited intentions were interpreted on this side of the channel; and
I may take upon myself to say, that it was viewed with no envious
feelings, it being clear, that two enterprising men were desirous of
trying their hands at adding lustre to the annals of aëronautics, and,
that like a great many travellers in new and untried latitudes, these
courageous aëronauts would do their best for their employers, and their
own credit, or perish in the struggle, which last they were not wholly
unprepared for, having disposed of their bodies in case of a fatal
issue.
Of course, the press as a faithful mirror of public opinion, was not
entirely in accord with their aims, about which some wrote severely
and disparagingly, as it seemed to them, that the most apparent motive
for the ascent, was to settle at what height animal life could exist;
and other reviewers went so far as to insinuate, that pigeons and
guinea-pigs were all very well, but in reality, it was a thinly veiled
international bit of rivalry, as to who should go highest, Frenchmen or
Englishmen.
Well, even if there existed a limited amount of this sort of thing, it
was only friendly rivalry, which no true Briton could possibly object
to, or be afraid of; it was not, however, to be expected that in France
or England another expedition, which might be ill-fated like Sivel’s
and Crose Spenelli’s, would be recognized without protest and free
writing. Still, on the whole, Captain Jovis and Lieut. Mallet were well
received, and I have little hesitation in saying that if an aëronaut,
in this country, had on his own account or on that of a newspaper
proprietor, done the like, he would have been, in all probability,
denounced for his pains, as such an undertaking would not do here,
unless a scientific society, or some pre-eminent physicist were to
embark in totally fresh experiments.
As an instance of this very natural spirit of emulation, which is to be
met with among enthusiastic air travellers, I may mention, that after
I had initiated the late lamented Mr. Walter Powell, M.P., by taking
him a long trip from Ashford, in Kent, to Crediton, in Devonshire, he
wished, among other chivalrous schemes, not only to go straight to Rome
without let or hindrance, which was most plucky and ambitious, but
he wanted, without being duly acclimatised, to go seven miles high.
I took upon myself to discountenance this and other suggestions, and
was most likely considered a slow old coach for my pains, but I rather
prided myself upon being properly cautious, and as I considered my
patron’s views rather too advanced for me at my time of life, I gladly
allowed that gentleman to pass into other hands, and what occurred
afterwards is a matter not easily forgotten.
In Messrs. Jovis and Mallet’s ascent, there was a conspicuous omission
in the first place, in not giving the size of their balloon. This was
neglectful and ominous, as it is by figures and facts, that a fair and
proper estimate can be formed as to the competency of the aëronaut and
his balloon to do the work he takes in hand.
M. Wilfrid de Fonvielle, by correct calculations, found it too small
for the intended elevation.
Whether aëronauts of the highest rank, such as the Tissandiers, Camille
Flammarion, and de Fonvielle, were too polite and forbearing, as to
impossibilities, I am not aware. The latter authority is known to be
free from all party prejudices, to have an opinion of his own, and to
utter it when necessary.
De Fonvielle may well have had doubts, I remember that Green had, as
to the heights attained by Robertson and Gay-Lussac, the former being
credited with having risen over 7,000 metres, while the latter reached
23,000 feet--higher, be it observed, than the 22,960 feet reached by
Jovis.
Green never could make out, to use his own words, “how it was that
they did it with balloons, as small as were quoted in the accounts of
Robertson’s and Gay-Lussac’s experiments.”
“Certainly,” as the veteran observed, “they used hydrogen, but there
must have been very little left of it on returning to the earth, if the
diameters of their small balloons were no more than stated,” that is as
Green added with emphasis, “if they touched 22,000 or 23,000 feet.”
By the light of our present investigations and deductions, it appears
that many of the accounts of the early ascents in this century, viz.,
in 1803 and 4, are unreliable statements, and not altogether excusable.
For instance, Robertson, in his journey from Hamburg, said that “his
head swelled, and that blood came from his nose.”
M. L’Hoest, his companion, was violently affected in a similar way; he
could not get his hat on.
Mr. Glaisher’s head and mine were covered with caps, but I did not
notice any cerebral expansion, being very intent upon the expansion of
the gas; in short, we were always sticking to more important business.
“At their greatest elevation they could scarcely hear each other speak.”
Now I found at seven miles high, and at five and six, that in the
absence of all sounds it was not necessary to speak much above a
whisper, and that palpitations, watch-ticks, &c., were audible with an
increase of sound the higher I got.
Robertson and his friend “could scarcely resist a strong inclination to
sleep.”
I not only knew the great importance of keeping _wide awake_, but felt
no desire to do otherwise.
Robertson’s balloon contained only 9,000 cubic feet of hydrogen.
It weighed, with all its apparatus, 5 pood 2 pounds, or a little over
200 pounds, and the weight of the whole was 18 pood 3 pounds.
Now, unless these figures are incorrect, a man like Charles Green might
well feel doubtful.
M. Gay-Lussac on September 15th, 1804, when he attained 7016 metres,
though well clothed, began to feel cold, he was still “far from
experiencing such uneasiness as to oblige him to descend,” his pulse
and respiration were accelerated; these were all the inconveniences
he felt, and they read to my thinking more correct and natural than
Robertson’s.
Green had no belief in what may be styled miraculous ballooning, by
that I mean in going up very high or extremely far in a very diminutive
balloon.