A YEAR OF TRIUMPH
Crossing the Channel by air--Contest of three
rivals--Bleriot’s triumph--Latham and the
Antoinette--The first flying carnival--Farman’s
success with a new machine and motor--The British
pioneers.
Up to this time the public, reading of the flights of the first airmen,
had not realised what these flights meant. They had not grasped the
significance of the aeroplane; its possibilities as a weapon of war; its
use as a vehicle for passing from place to place--high in the air, at
great speed, and with an ability to soar above land or sea, mountains or
woods, hills or valleys. But they were no longer to remain in doubt. The
year 1908, as shown, closed in rivalry between several airmen, and with
a flight lasting more than two hours. In 1909, the most memorable year
in the history of the conquest, these feats sank into insignificance,
and the world began to understand what was being done, and what flying
would mean in peace and war.
[Illustration: MACHINE SEEN FROM ABOVE,
showing the wing-spread and the box-kite tail.
FIG. 42.--The Voisin Biplane.
A. Elevating plane; B. Pilot’s seat; C.C. Main-planes; D. Engine and
propeller; E. Landing chassis; F. Balancing tail; G. Rudder.]
At the beginning of 1909 there were two types of successful
aeroplane--the Wright and the Voisin. Bleriot had flown with his
monoplane and flown well; but he was still in the process of evolving a
practical machine, and several other inventors were in a similar stage.
It was the Wright and the Voisin which had proved their worth; and the
Wright, as has been said, was the better of the two. Of the Voisin, as
flown in 1909, a reproduction is given in Fig. 42. It was a heavier
aeroplane than the Wrights’, owing largely to the weight of its
alighting gear (250 lbs.) and of its big balancing tail (more than 100
lbs.); hence the necessity for using a 50-h.p. motor, which drove a
two-bladed metal propeller at the rate of 1200 revolutions a minute. The
Voisin brothers, and other French makers, did not approve of the
two-propeller system of the Wrights: they preferred one screw, revolving
at high speed. But there was no doubt--at any rate in this stage of
aviation--that the Wright method was more efficient than that of the
Frenchmen. It was calculated, indeed, that the Wright biplane, when
actually in the air, could be driven at an expenditure of only 15 h.p.;
whereas the Voisin, even with its 50-h.p. motor running at full speed,
had only just enough power to fly.
There were in 1909 two memorable events, and both impressed the public
with the progress of aviation. One was the crossing of the English
Channel by aeroplane; the other the flying meeting--the first of its
kind in the world--which was held upon the plain of Betheny, near
Rheims. To be first to cross the channel by air was the ambition of more
than one of the rivals; and the flight was rendered attractive by a
prize of £1000, offered by the London _Daily Mail_. Preparing to attempt
the feat, early in the summer of 1909, were three competitors, the names
of two of whom are familiar. One was the Comte de Lambert; he, it will
be remembered, was Wilbur Wright’s pupil. Now an accomplished airman, he
had a Wright biplane at Wissant on the French coast. Another competitor
was M. Bleriot, whose early exploits have been chronicled. The monoplane
he had now evolved was an ingenious craft, and merits careful
description. Its main features may be seen in Fig. 43. The machine was
remarkable chiefly for its smallness and lightness. While the Voisin
biplane weighed just upon 1000 lbs., the weight of Bleriot’s monoplane
was only 484 lbs. The span of its main wings was not more than 28 feet,
and they contained only 150 square feet of lifting surface. Driving the
machine was a motor of 25 horse-power; and the propeller, being placed
at the bow, was what is known as a “tractor.” Instead of pushing the
machine, as in the case of the Wright and the Voisin, this propeller
drew the monoplane through the air.
[Illustration: MACHINE SEEN FROM ABOVE,
showing its bird-like shape and the position of the pilot.
FIG. 43.--The Bleriot Monoplane.
A. Propeller; B. Motor; C. Sustaining-plane; D. Pilot’s seat; E. Landing
chassis; F. Combined tail and elevating-planes; G. Rudder.]
Sitting within the body of his machine, at a point between the main
wings and level with their rear edges, Bleriot controlled his craft by a
simple mechanism. His feet rested upon a pivoted bar; this, by a
movement of either foot, operated the rudder at the rear of the
machine. In front of the pilot was an upright lever, which he grasped
with both hands. At the bottom of it, attached to a bell-shaped piece of
metal, were four controlling wires, two running to the wings and two
towards the tail. Those fixed to the wings caused the rear edges of the
planes, which were flexible, to move up and down. A side-to-side action
of the lever, which drew upon the wires and caused the wings to warp,
prevented the monoplane from rolling while in flight. The Wrights, it
may be recalled, adopted a similar method, although their system of
leverage was different. A forward or backward movement of this same
lever controlled the rising or descending of the monoplane. Its
elevating-planes, instead of being at the front of the machine, as in a
biplane, formed part of the tail. This tail was one narrow, horizontal
plane, with a section at either end working up or down upon a pivoted
rod. When the hand-lever was drawn back, the elevating-planes were
tilted, and the monoplane rose. A reverse movement was used for descent.
Chief interest, at the early stages of the race to be first across the
Channel, was centred in a newcomer--Mr. Hubert Latham. He was a young
man of leisure, whose family, formerly an English one, had settled in
France. Being fond of sport, and particularly of the shooting of big
game, he had been attracted to flying through the medium of some balloon
ascents.
At the beginning of 1909 a new monoplane made its appearance in
France--a powerful, finely constructed, and very stable machine. It was
the Antoinette, designed by a famous engineer, and it was this craft
which interested Latham. M. Levavasseur was the designer of it and of a
specially lightened motor, first applied to motor-boats, and afterwards
to the experimental biplane of M. Santos-Dumont and also to the
aeroplane with which Farman first flew. The Antoinette, which M.
Levavasseur also fitted with one of his motors, was a large
monoplane--far larger than the Bleriot; and built not with the idea of
being a fair-weather machine, but to fly in winds. The craft is
illustrated in Fig. 44. The span of its wings was 46 feet, and they
contained 365 square feet of sustaining surface, while the total weight
was 1040 lbs.
The monoplane, in its method of control, differed from other machines.
Upon either side of the pilot, as he sat in the tapering, boat-shaped
body, was a hand-wheel. One operated the elevating plane; the other
controlled the warping of the wings; while to steer from side to side
the airman pushed pedals at his feet, and so swung the rudder at the
stern.
Driven by its 50-h.p. Antoinette motor, the monoplane showed itself
capable of flying well; but it found no successful pilot until Latham
took it in hand. He associated himself financially with its
constructors, and went to Mourmelon in France to learn to fly the
machine, and his skill became evident. On 5th June he flew for 1 hour 7
minutes without alighting, and afterwards made flights in wind and rain.
Latham was slight of figure and deft in movement, had a cool, quiet
judgment, and was courageous sometimes to the point of being reckless.
After his success at Mourmelon, it was decided to attempt the
cross-Channel flight; and the monoplane was transferred to a temporary
shed at Sangatte, a few miles from Calais. First on the scene, Latham
was ready for flight early in July; but the weather proved unfavourable.
There was fog in the Channel and he had to wait. In the meantime--on
13th July--Bleriot made a cross-country flight of 25 miles; then he,
too, packed up his monoplane and dispatched it to Calais.
[Illustration: A. Propeller; B. Motor; C. Sustaining-plane; D. Pilot’s
seat and controlling wheel; E.E. Vertical rudders; F. Elevating-plane;
G. Landing gear.
MACHINE SEEN FROM ABOVE,
showing the spread of the planes and tail, and the delicate taper of the
long, canoe-shaped body.
THE CRAFT IN FLIGHT.
FIG. 44.--The Antoinette Monoplane.]
On the morning of 19th July, there being little wind and practically no
fog, Latham said he would attempt the crossing. Rising from the slope of
a hill a little way inland, he passed out over the cliffs and steered
for Dover--a torpedo-boat destroyer, placed at his disposal by the
French Government, following him across Channel, so as to be ready to
pick him up should he make an involuntary descent into the water. It was
fortunate this vessel did steam upon his track. When he had reached a
point not quite half-way between the French and English coasts, flying
1000 feet high, Latham’s motor began to miss-fire; then, without further
warning, it stopped altogether. There was only one thing to do, and the
airman did it. Piloting his machine in a slanting glide, he alighted
upon the surface of the water. Fortunately there was no high sea, and
the monoplane floated with its wings flat upon the water. Tucking up his
feet to avoid getting them wet, Latham lit a cigarette and waited for
the destroyer, the captain of which had seen his fall and came steaming
at full speed. How the machine appeared, as it lay in the water, is
shown in the photograph on Plate IV.
So much damage was done to the monoplane in retrieving it from the sea,
that it was practically destroyed, and Latham was left without a
machine, with his rival Bleriot now upon the scene. But the Antoinette
Company, having a craft in reserve at Rheims, decided that this should
be hurried to the coast, and Latham given the opportunity of making
another attempt. This second machine was telegraphed for, accordingly,
and assembled with all speed, and on the morning of 25th July both
Latham and Bleriot were ready for flight. Farther down the coast at
Wissant was the Comte de Lambert; he had met with an accident, however.
In testing his biplane he side-slipped near the ground and the machine
was wrecked; this spelt delay while he was procuring and tuning another
craft.
On 25th July, a Sunday, there was a stiff breeze soon after it became
light, and nobody imagined that flying would take place. Bleriot,
however, motored from Calais to the spot where his monoplane was housed,
and after a short trial flight, during which his motor ran well, said he
should attempt the Channel crossing. Latham had not then left his hotel.
There was a dramatic moment before Bleriot started his engine. Standing
up in his machine and peering over the Channel, he asked:
“Where _is_ Dover?”
A friend stretched out an arm, pointing across the water, and the airman
nodded and sat back in his machine.
Rising in a half-circle to pass above some telegraph wires, Bleriot sped
out across the water--as shown on Plate V--and his machine receded until
it was a speck. He flew low and the wind was strong enough to bring
white crests to the waves. This wind, furthermore, was seen momentarily
to be rising, and anxiety was expressed. In a few minutes, to those
watching from the French coast, the monoplane and its pursuing destroyer
passed out of sight. And then came a period of waiting, crowds gathering
about the wireless telegraph station which, installed temporarily on the
cliffs, was in touch with Dover. And while his friends waited thus in
suspense, the lonely airman fought a rising wind--poised perilously
above the waves, and with no sign of land either before him or behind.
Those on the torpedo-destroyer, although she was steaming fast, lost
sight of the airman before mid-Channel was reached. He had said that,
should he out-distance this vessel, he would circle in the air and wait
till she overtook him, so as to have the certainty of being picked up
should his engine fail. But when in actual flight, although he saw his
escort left far behind, Bleriot did not swing round and wait, but
instead bore swiftly on; and his reason for so doing was this: the wind
was rising steadily and he reckoned his only hope of reaching the
English shore was to fly straight on, and seek to make a landing before
the gusts became too violent.
For ten minutes, in this historic flight, Bleriot flew through a
sea-fog, seeing nothing above or below him, and with instinct only to
guide him upon his course. Had his motor stopped then, causing him to
plane into the sea, his position would have been almost hopeless. It is
true that in the body of his monoplane had been placed an air-bag, to
help it float should he alight upon the water; but even with such
buoyancy it is doubtful whether the machine would have withstood the
buffetings of the waves for more than a few minutes; and Bleriot himself
was handicapped by the fact that, as the result of the igniting of some
petrol a week or so before, he had a burned foot which made him limp
painfully. But his motor did not falter--although, in this
cross-Channel flight, the airman was asking it to run longer than it had
done before.
[Illustration: _Photo, “Daily Mirror.”_
PLATE VI.--BLERIOT REACHES DOVER.
Wind-tossed and exhausted, after his flight from Calais, the airman
planed down near Dover Castle; descending so abruptly, owing to the
gusts, that he broke his running-gear and propeller. He is seen above
in his overalls, a few minutes after landing--a crowd having already
gathered on the scene.]
Passing from sea-mist into open sky, Bleriot saw the English coast-line;
but it was not Dover that lay before him, but a point considerably
north-east of it; and he realised that, as he had flown across the water
with no landmark to guide his eye, he had been borne off his course by
the pressure of a south-westerly wind. Holding on till he came within
planing distance of the shore, he turned his craft towards Dover; but
the wind, which he was now facing, seemed to gain in strength. The
monoplane pitched and swayed and made little headway, and the pilot
became anxious as to his landing. It had been arranged that he should
alight upon the Shakespeare Cliff; but now, approaching Dover upon the
side opposite to this cliff, he decided to land somewhere without a
moment’s delay, and not wait until he gained the farther point. So he
turned suddenly towards an opening in the cliffs which lay below Dover
Castle. Descending in passing above the land, he met the full brunt of
the gusts as they played over the cliff. The monoplane was caught and
twirled completely round; and the airman straightened it only to be
tossed again like a leaf before the wind. A second time he regained
control, and once more his machine was flung from its course. But now,
being well over the land, and with an open stretch of grass below him,
he planed steeply down. The landing was abrupt--in fact, made with
desperate haste; and the chassis of the machine was broken by the shock
and the propeller splintered. But Bleriot was not concerned at this. He
clambered stiffly from his seat, the great flight done; and soon
motor-cars came, and he was carried in triumph to the town. The scene
upon the cliff, showing the monoplane a few minutes after it had landed,
with Bleriot being interviewed by a journalist, is seen on Plate VI. The
course the airman flew in crossing the Channel is indicated by Fig. 45.
[Illustration: FIG. 45.--Bleriot’s course when flying the Channel.]
Meanwhile, on the French shore, the news was received by wireless; and
so overjoyed was M. Anzani, the builder of Bleriot’s motor, that he
suddenly burst into tears. One of those who stood waiting for a message
was Latham; and when the word came that Bleriot had made the flight and
won the prize, he took off his cap and cried, “Bravo!” Then he ordered
his mechanics to bring out his machine, saying that, although there was
nothing to be won, he intended to make the crossing to show what his
machine could do. But when he reached the starting-point the wind had
risen and was blowing in heavy gusts; whereupon, although he seemed
determined to fly, M. Levavasseur and others persuaded him that the idea
was hopeless.
In two days’ time, however, his chance came. Upon a fine, perfectly calm
evening he started upon a second crossing, and this time flew fast and
well. The watchers at Dover saw him approach--saw him reach a point
within little more than a mile of the Admiralty pier. And then, just as
it had done before, his motor broke down and he had to plane into the
sea. But this time, failing to make a smooth contact with the water, he
was thrown forward from his seat against a wooden upright, cutting his
head badly and sustaining shock. Picked up by a motor-boat he was
brought into Dover; then, after a doctor had attended him, he returned
to France. Again his monoplane was wrecked in its recovery from the
water. The Antoinette Company had fared badly in this contest, losing
two machines and having their chief pilot injured. The Comte de Lambert,
after hearing of Bleriot’s success, did not attempt a flight.
Henri Farman had played no part in this cross-Channel flying; he was
busy with the tests of a biplane of his own construction. In July, at
Rheims, there was to be the great flying meeting; and Farman had made up
his mind to wait for this. Aided by the experience he had gained with
the Voisin machine, he had designed a craft which should be generally
more efficient and faster in flight, and more quickly responsive to its
controls. The biplane he produced, marking as it did a step forward in
construction, is a machine that needs description. The general
appearance of the craft is indicated by Fig. 46, while an illustration
of this type of machine in flight will be found on Plate VII. A feature
of the Voisin that Farman discarded was the vertical panel fitted
between the main-planes to give sideway stability. An objection to these
planes was that they added to the weight of the machine and checked its
speed, tending also to drive it from its course should there be a side
wind. But in taking away such fixed balancing-planes, Farman had to
substitute another device; and what he did was to work upon the same
theory as the Wrights had done, and obtain a similar result in a
different way. They, it will be remembered, had warped the rear portions
of their main-planes. Farman kept his planes rigid, but fitted to their
rear extremities four narrow, hinged planes, or flaps, which could be
moved up and down and were called ailerons. Their effect was the same as
with the Wright wing-warp. When a gust tilted the machine, the pilot
drew down the ailerons upon the side that was inclined downward;
whereupon the air-pressure, acting upon the drawn-down surfaces,
restored the machine to an even keel.
[Illustration: A. Elevating-plane; B.B. Main-planes; C. Pilot’s seat; D.
Motor and propeller; E. Petrol tank; F.F. Hinged balancing-planes, or
ailerons; G.G. Tail-planes; H.H. Twin vertical rudders; I. Landing
wheels and skids.
MACHINE SEEN FROM ABOVE,
showing the span of main-planes, elevator, and tail, also the positions
of landing gear and pilot’s seat.
FIG. 46.--The Farman Biplane.]
The control was simple. At the pilot’s right hand there was a lever;
this, when moved forward or backward, operated the elevating-plane; and
a sideway action controlled the ailerons. At the pilot’s feet was a
pivoted rod, and this, as he pressed upon it with one foot or the other,
swung the twin rudders at the tail.
Such a system of hand-and-foot control has become general in aeroplanes.
The pilot uses as a rule a hand-lever or wheel for governing the ascent
or descent of his craft, and for sideway balancing, and employs his
feet for operating the rudder. This leaves him a hand free for the
manipulation of his engine throttle and switch.
A feature of Farman’s biplane was the landing gear, as shown in Fig. 46.
It comprised two long skids, which projected in front of the main-planes
beneath the machine, and continued some distance rearward; while mounted
upon each of these skids, at a point below the front edge of the lower
main-plane, was a short metal axle which bore two small bicycle wheels,
fitted with pneumatic tyres. Holding the axle to the skid were thick
india-rubber bands, and the working of this apparatus was as follows:
when the machine moved across the ground, the bicycle wheels bore its
weight, and the skids were prevented from making contact with the
surface. But when alighting from a flight, should the biplane strike
ground heavily, then the wheels were pushed up by the yielding of the
elastic bands, and the skids took the shock of the impact. Light, and
with no complications, this form of gear proved remarkably efficient;
and by degrees it came to be used, not only in the Farman, but upon
other types as well. The necessity in any such device was lightness;
when the machine was in the air, and until it landed from its flight,
the alighting gear was so much dead weight--and not only this, but the
air-pressure on struts and stays acted as a check upon the speed of the
machine. Any landing gear to be useful and efficient, therefore, must
be light and yet strong, and have few parts which can offer resistance
to the air.
[Illustration: PLATE VII.--A FARMAN IN FLIGHT.
Here, using the biplane with which he first flew in England, Mr.
Grahame-White is seen ascending from a field near Rugby during his
attempts to win the £10,000 London-Manchester prize.]
Farman planned to win prizes at the Rheims flying meeting, and he
succeeded. But the flights he made would hardly have been possible had
not he obtained the use of a new motor--one destined to play a vital
part in the development of flying. This was the Gnome; and to understand
its triumph an explanation is necessary. Before Farman fitted the first
of these motors to his biplane, engines in aeroplanes had been
troublesome and unreliable. The difficulty was that they must be very
light, and yet capable of running at high speeds and under heavy loads.
Working, say, at 1000 revolutions a minute or even more, they drove the
propeller of an aeroplane at full speed for the whole of the time it was
in the air, and enjoyed no occasional rest, or slackening of power, as
was the case with motor-car engines on the road. The result was that,
being light and experimental--and at the same time so heavily
worked--they either broke small but vital parts, such as a valve or
connecting-rod, or became over-heated and failed to deliver their power.
To prevent overheating, there were two cooling systems available. In
one, known as water-cooling, a stream of water flowed through metal
chambers round the cylinders, and tended to reduce their heat. But this
implied extra weight, and the carrying also of a radiator, or framework
of thin pipes exposed to the air, through which the water was pumped, so
as to cool it after it had passed round the heated cylinders. The second
system, which obviated the use of water or radiators, was known as
air-cooling. In this the tops of the cylinders were ringed with metal
flanges, or fins, upon which the air impinged as the machine flew. This
method is adopted in most motor-cycle engines, and answers admirably.
But with aeroplane motors, in the early days, the high speed at which
they worked, and the fact that they obtained no rest in flight, or
slackening in the number of their revolutions, made them overheat very
often, in spite of their cooling fins. One might liken their work to
taking a motor-cycle and running it at top speed up a hill without end.
[Illustration: FIG. 47.--The seven-cylinder 50-h.p. Gnome motor.]
The difficulty with air-cooling--although it had obvious advantages over
water-cooling--was to bring enough air to play upon the surfaces of the
cylinders; and it was here that the Gnome won so complete a success. In
other engines the cylinders were stationary, and their pistons, moving
up and down in the cylinders, turned a crank-shaft to the end of which
the propeller was fixed. Therefore the only air the cylinders obtained
was what rushed upon them through the speed of the machine in flight.
But in the Gnome, instead of the cylinders remaining stationary and the
crank-shaft revolving, the cylinders themselves spun round, and the
crank-shaft did not move. An illustration of this motor with one end of
the crank-chamber removed, so that the piston-rods can be seen, is given
in Fig. 47. It will be noted that there are seven cylinders, set in the
form of a star, and that the seven piston-rods projecting from them come
together upon a single crank-pin, which is attached to the stationary
crank-shaft and turns round it. The propeller, instead of being fitted
to the crank-shaft, as was the case with other motors, was bolted to a
plate upon the engine itself, so that when this turned around its
crank-shaft, it carried the propeller with it.
A difficulty in this engine lay in feeding its cylinders with their
petrol and air. We showed, in Fig. 32, how this mixture is delivered to
an ordinary motor, which has its cylinder stationary. But with the Gnome
the mixture could not be supplied from a pipe to the cylinder-head, for
the reason that the cylinder was revolving. The problem was solved by
making the stationary crank-shaft hollow, and by delivering the mixture
through this to the interior in the engine; thence it was sucked into
the cylinder-heads through a valve in the pistons. There were other
complications, inevitable to this ingenious motor, which led critics to
declare it would prove unreliable. But their judgment was wrong, for by
making every working part with scrupulous care, and sparing no expense
in the quality of the materials used, the builders of the Gnome did
render it reliable. They achieved another triumph as well; they
eliminated overheating. Revolving more than 1000 times a minute, the
cylinders of the Gnome cooled themselves automatically, and the engine
proved that it would run for hours without becoming too hot, or the
pistons seizing in the cylinders. Furthermore, seeing that the weight of
water and of radiators was avoided, the Gnome was remarkably light. The
50-h.p. engine weighed no more than 165 lbs., which meant that it gave
one h.p. of energy for each 3.3 lbs. of its weight. A photograph of the
Gnome, as fitted to a Farman biplane, is seen on Plate VIII.
The Gnome, when first built, was regarded with scepticism. Farman,
however, showed the acuteness of his judgment. He obtained a Gnome and
fitted it to the biplane which he flew at Rheims; and the wisdom of this
choice was soon made clear. The chief prize at Rheims was for the
longest flight, and this Farman won easily, remaining in the air for 3
hrs. 4 mins. and covering a distance of about 112 miles. The flight
represented a world’s record; and by this feat alone Farman made his
biplane famous, and demonstrated the reliability of the Gnome. Those who
watched the flight will not forget it. Farman started rather late in the
afternoon and flew low round the great aerodrome, his landing-wheels
appearing sometimes to be a few feet only above the grass. He sat
leaning forward in his seat and circled close to the wooden towers
marking the course, losing no ground and steering his machine with
perfect accuracy. So he flew for lap after lap, never rising higher or
flying lower, and with the Gnome behind him emitting a booming hum as
it whirled the propeller without falter or flag. Only the approach of
darkness, in fact, caused the airman to descend.
[Illustration: A. Elevating-planes; B. Pilot’s seat and control-wheel;
C.C. Main-planes; D. Ailerons; E. Motor and propeller; F. Tail-plane and
rudder.
MACHINE SEEN FROM IN FRONT,
showing the chassis and the position between the planes of the two
ailerons (A.A.).
THE CRAFT IN FLIGHT
MAKING A TURN.
FIG. 48.--The Curtiss Biplane.]
[Illustration: FIG. 49.--The Curtiss aileron control.
A. Pilot’s seat; B. Wheel for operating elevator; C. Shoulder-pieces and
vertical rod for aileron control.]
Of famous aeroplanes at Rheims, five types stood out by themselves--the
Farman, the Voisin, the Wright, the Bleriot, and the Antoinette, all of
which have been described. But there was one other, which few people had
heard of before it appeared here. This was the Curtiss biplane, built by
an American named Glenn H. Curtiss, and engined with a motor which also
bore his name. Curtiss had experimented with many power-driven
machines--motor-cycles, motor-cars, airships, and aeroplanes--and had
won a prize in America with a small, light biplane, and it was a craft
of this type--as seen in Fig. 48--that he brought with him to Rheims,
his idea being to compete for the speed prize. The machine had a front
elevator and tail-planes, according to the practice in biplane
construction; but an innovation was the setting of the ailerons midway
between the main-planes--a position that will be noted in the sketch;
another novelty was the way these ailerons operated. At the pilot’s
back, as he sat in his driving seat, was an upright rod with two
shoulder-pieces--by means of which, should he shift his body, he could
swing the rod from side to side. Wires ran from the rod to the ailerons;
and if the pilot leaned over, say, to the right, he drew down the
ailerons on the left side of the machine. The merit of such a control
was that it was instinctive; that is to say, should the biplane tip down
on one side, it was natural for the pilot to lean away from the
plane-ends that were sinking; and he operated the ailerons
automatically, as he did this, and so brought the machine level again.
This ingenious system is illustrated in Fig. 49.
[Illustration: _Photo, F. N. Birkett._
PLATE VIII.--THE GNOME MOTOR.
This engine--of which Mr. Grahame-White is testing an exhaust
valve--is here seen fitted to a Farman biplane, the three tanks above it
containing petrol and oil.]
Features of the Curtiss biplane were its smallness and lightness. The
span of its main-planes was only 28 feet 9 inches--no more than the span
of the Bleriot; and it weighed, with its pilot on board, a total of only
710 lbs. Driving the machine was an 8-cylindered 30-h.p. motor;
therefore it was expected to be fast in flight. The speed contest, as a
matter of fact, became a duel between Curtiss--who flew his machine
himself--and Bleriot, who piloted his fastest monoplane; and in the end
Curtiss won, attaining a speed of a little more than 47 miles an hour.
Bleriot had built for the contest a new racing monoplane, which had a
motor of 80 h.p., and in which the pilot sat below the wings. The
photograph on Plate IX shows the appearance of this type of craft.
Latham, in his Antoinette, won the height prize at Rheims, rising to an
altitude of 500 feet. Others who distinguished themselves were Paulhan
and Rougier, on Voisin biplanes--the former to become famous afterwards
as the winner of the _Daily Mail_ £10,000 prize for the flight from
London to Manchester. But the Voisins, although they flew steadily,
seemed slow, clumsy machines in comparison with the Farman. The Wright
biplanes, of which there were three in competition, did not distinguish
themselves particularly. The pilots who had charge of them, and had been
taught to fly by Wilbur Wright, were the Comte de Lambert and M.
Tissandier, who have been mentioned already, and M. Lefevre--a pilot who
was the first to make trick flights, wheeling, diving, and swinging in
circles, and astonishing people who watched him from the stands. Not
long after the Rheims meeting, while testing a new machine, this airman
met with an accident that proved fatal, his craft diving suddenly and
being wrecked.
The Wright machines, to tell the truth, were not regarded favourably in
France. Many men were attracted by the speed and simplicity of the
monoplane; many others, again, championed the Farman with its Gnome. The
chain-drive of the Wright propellers was said to be a source of danger,
and their need to start from a rail was, in view of the wheeled
under-carriages of the French machines, declared a clumsy makeshift. So,
although the machine was the first power-driven craft to fly
successfully, and despite the feats of Wilbur in 1908, the Wright
biplane did not conquer France. Although they had lagged behind the
Wrights in the building of practicable machines, the enthusiasm of
French makers soon carried them ahead of their rivals. The Wrights
handicapped themselves; they would not, for a long time, discard the
starting-rail; they would not adopt the Gnome motor; they were averse
from making alterations in the construction of their machine. So their
biplane, although its efficiency was always granted, never took the
place to which it seemed entitled.
It was after the Rheims meeting that the building of aeroplanes
commenced as an industry. Farman established a factory and began to
produce biplanes in considerable numbers; Bleriot had received orders
for monoplanes after the cross-Channel flight; and the Voisins were
building too. There were French firms, also, who had been given
permission to manufacture the Wright biplane; and in England, at a
factory in the Isle of Sheppey, Messrs. Short Brothers were building
Wright machines.
[Illustration: FIG. 50.--The Roe Triplane.
A.A.A. Three main-planes; B. Motor; C. Four-bladed propeller; D.D.D.
Triplane tail; E. Rudder; F. Landing gear.]
It is necessary now to consider the growth of flying in England. While
mighty deeds were done in America and France, there had been pioneers at
work here--painstaking and enthusiastic, but handicapped sadly by the
public indifference that prevailed. They met with no encouragement--no
financial help; they had to build their machines as best they could, and
whether they succeeded or failed seemed the concern of none. An
experimenter who braved this apathy and won his way until he became a
constructor of aircraft, was Mr. A. V. Roe. For some time he was an
advocate of the triplane form of machine--a craft, that is to say, with
three main-planes fitted one above another. The machine with which he
obtained flights, although they were very brief, is seen in Fig. 50.
Subsequently, however, Mr. Roe adopted the biplane form. His
distinction in the pioneer days was that he managed to make his triplane
lift into the air and fly a short distance, with the aid of a
motor-cycle engine developing no more than 9 h.p.
Another ardent worker in England, and one destined to become famous, was
Mr. S. F. Cody. After developing a system of man-lifting kites which the
British War Office acquired, he joined the military aircraft factory
that had been established at Farnborough. Here, after tests with
dirigible balloons, he began the construction of experimental
biplanes--all machines of large size. Early in 1909 he made brief
flights--the longest being one of about 250 yards. Then, after
alterations to his machine, he managed in July to fly a distance of 4
miles. This he increased afterwards to 8 miles; and then on 1st
September flew for 1 hour 3 minutes, rising to a height of 300 feet.
Cody’s biplane was a very large machine, having 1000 square feet of
lifting surface--twice that of the Farman or Voisin. Driving it was an
80-h.p. engine, which operated two propellers on the system used by the
Wrights. With its pilot on board the machine weighed 2170 lbs. It is
illustrated in Fig. 51.
[Illustration: A. Elevating-planes and vertical-plane; B. Pilot’s
control lever; C.C. Main-planes; D. Motor; E. Propellers; F. Rudder; G.
Landing gear; H. Rear skid.
MACHINE SEEN FROM ABOVE,
showing the large size of the elevators, the position of the pilot, and
the placing of the propellers.
FIG. 51.--The Cody Biplane.]
In the control of the machine Cody introduced original devices, notably
as to sideway balance. Instead of using ailerons or wing-warping, he
arranged his two elevating-planes so that they would move up and down
independently of each other. In this way, by making one tilt up and the
other down, he was able to obtain the same effect as with ailerons. When
raised or lowered in unison, these planes acted as elevators. Cody
managed also to combine all controlling movements in one lever, and did
not use his feet for steering. Before him, as he sat in his driving
seat, he had a rod which ended in a hand-wheel. Pushed forward or
backward, this rod moved the elevating-planes; swung over from side to
side, it altered the angle of one or other of the elevating-planes and
so controlled sideway balance; while by turning the wheel at the top of
the rod, the pilot could operate the rudder at the rear of the machine.
Cody made little progress until he obtained a powerful motor, his
machine being too large and heavy for the engines fitted to other craft.
Acquiring a motor of 120 h.p. in 1912, he won the War Office competition
on Salisbury Plain, his biplane showing its superiority--as a purely
military craft--even over those of the famous French builders. It was in
the summer of 1913, while flying a new machine, that the airman and a
passenger fell to their death--expert evidence showing that the craft
collapsed in the air.
Two other Englishmen prominent in the early days of aviation were the
Hon. C. S. Rolls and Mr. J. T. C. Moore-Brabazon. The former, having
learned to glide as the Wrights had done, obtained a British-built
Wright biplane and made excellent flights at Shellbeach, Isle of
Sheppey. During the season of 1912, still piloting a Wright, he took
part in several aviation meetings; and it was at Bournemouth, owing to
the collapse of a tail-plane, that he fell 90 feet and was almost
instantly killed. Towards the end of 1909, Mr. Moore-Brabazon, after
buying and learning to pilot a Voisin, ordered a British-built biplane
from Messrs. Short Brothers, and with this machine on 30th October 1909
he won a £1000 prize offered by _The Daily Mail_ for the first circular
mile flight by a British aviator upon an all-British machine.
Now indeed, once the first obstacles had been overcome, the building of
aeroplanes and the training of men progressed astonishingly. New
champions appeared almost every day; many aviation meetings were held;
and Henri Farman, to complete the triumphs of a wonderful year, flew in
November for 4 hours 17 minutes 35 seconds, covering a distance of 150
miles through the air, and breaking all records for duration of flight.