Cocking and a companion named Green made the ascent at the appointed
time. After rising to a certain height the parachute was cast off,
the parachute's car containing the inventor, while Green remained in
the balloon. Instead of sailing slowly toward the earth, however, the
parachute fell rapidly, with an oscillating movement, gaining speed and
jerking violently as it descended, until finally when several hundred
feet in the air, Cocking was thrown from the car and dashed to pieces,
while the wreck of the parachute landed a few yards away. Thus the
predictions of the majority came true, although as we know now, the
cause of the tragedy was due to faulty material rather than the design
of the machine. For the American aeronaut, Wise, demonstrated a little
later that parachutes built on the same principle as that of Cocking
could be used successfully.
As we have seen, most of the flying-machines attempted heretofore
took for their model the bird with flapping wings. There were certain
persons, however, who had observed that this flapping movement was not
essential to flight--that certain large-winged birds, such as buzzards
and hawks, were able to soar in any direction at will, holding their
wings rigidly. It was evident, therefore, that shape, position, and
construction of the bird's wing played quite as important a part as the
flapping movement. The lifting power of plane surfaces, or aeroplanes,
was also carefully studied in this connection and in 1842 the inventor,
Henson, constructed a flying-machine utilizing this aeroplane
principle, his machine having thin, fixed surfaces, slightly inclined
to the line of motion, and supported by the upward pressure of the air
due to the forward movement.
Everyone will remember the distance to which a skilful juggler can
project an ordinary playing-card by giving it a certain inclination
in throwing. It will travel upward or on a level, and continue this
direction until the force of the movement of throwing is exhausted.
Obviously, if this force were self-contained in the card--if it could
continue rotating and moving forward--it could fly indefinitely. Henson
had studied and experimented with these miniature aeroplanes, and was
convinced that if the same principle that governed their flight were to
be applied to larger machines, practical flying-machines could be made.
"If any light and flat, or nearly flat, article," he wrote, "be
projected edgeways in a slightly inclined position, the same will rise
on the air till the force exerted is expended, when the article so
thrown or projected will descend; and it will readily be conceived that
if the article possessed in itself a continuous power or force equal to
that used in throwing or projecting it, the article would continue to
ascend so long as the forward part of the surface was upward in respect
to its hinder part, and that such article, when the power was stopped,
or when the inclination was recovered, would descend by gravity only if
the power was stopped, or by gravity, aided by the force of the power
contained in the article, if the power be contained, thus imitating the
flight of a bird."
But when Henson attempted to fly in his elaborately planned and
constructed flying-machine, it proved a complete failure. It showed
a tendency to rise, but its lifting power was insufficient for the
weight of the engine driving the propellers. It was evident, however,
that if the power of the engine could be sufficiently increased, or,
what amounts to the same thing, its weight sufficiently lightened, a
machine built on the aeroplane principle could be made to fly. But at
that time the lightest type of engine was a crude, heavy machine, and
for the moment nothing more was attempted in producing a mechanical
flying-machine propelled by steam.
Meanwhile the possibility of producing a dirigible balloon was again
brought into prominence by the suggestion of two aeronauts, Scott and
Martainville, to change the shape of the envelope of the balloon.
Hitherto, all balloons had been made globular or pear-shaped--shapes
that offered great resisting surfaces to the atmosphere. Now it was
proposed to make them in the form of long, horizontal cylinders, with
pointed ends, these cigar-shaped, or boat-shaped balloons offering
much less resistance. But here, as in the case of the flying-machine,
engines that were sufficiently strong to work the propellers were found
to be too heavy for the balloon to lift. Meanwhile the aeroplane idea
was brought into prominence from an unexpected quarter.
Among the numerous observers in the middle of the century who had noted
the soaring power of birds, was a French sea-captain named Le Bris. On
his long voyages he had studied the movements of the great albatross,
which, with wings rigidly distended, outsailed the swiftest ship
without any apparent exertion. Anxious to study the wing-mechanism of
this bird, the captain, overcoming the scruples of the mariner against
killing the sacred sea-rover, shot one of the birds. On removing a wing
and spreading it in the wind he thought that it had a very appreciable
tendency to pull forward into the breeze, and tended to rise when the
wind was strong. Convinced that by duplicating the shape of the bird he
could construct a successful flying-machine, Le Bris set to work and
succeeded in producing a most remarkable "air-ship."
The body of this machine, which was supposed to correspond to the body
of the bird, was made boat-shaped, and was about thirteen feet long and
four feet wide, being broadest at its prow, in imitation of the breast
of the bird. The front part was decked over, something like the bow of
the modern torpedo-boat, and through this deck protruded a small mast
which was used for supporting the pulleys and cords used in working
the machinery of the wings. Each wing was about twenty-five feet long,
so that the entire spread of the machine was fifty feet. There was
a tail-like structure so hinged that it could be used for steering
up, down, and sidewise, the total area of surface presented to the
atmosphere being something over two hundred square feet, although the
entire "albatross" weighed something less than a hundred pounds.
The front edges of the wings were made of pieces of wood fashioned
like the wings of the albatross, and feathers were imitated by a frame
structure covered with canton flannel. The front edges of the wings
could be given a rotary motion to fix them at any desired angle by an
ingenious device worked by two levers. In operating this artificial
bird the captain proposed to stand in the boat and control its flight
by these sets of levers and by balancing his body.
Having full confidence in the ability of his invention to soar once
it had been given an initial velocity, the captain selected a morning
when a good breeze was blowing and hired a cart-driver to carry him
out into the neighboring fields. The machine was placed horizontally
upon the cart and fastened to it with a rope which could be loosened
by the pulling of a slip-knot held by the captain, who took his
position in the boat. On reaching the open country the driver put his
horse into a brisk trot when, the levers controlling the wings being
set, the machine rose gracefully into the air and travelled forward a
distance of perhaps a hundred yards. At this moment the running-rope in
some unaccountable manner became wound about the body of the driver,
hauling him unceremoniously from his seat, and dangling him writhing
and shrieking at the end of the rope, several feet above the ground.
As it happened, his weight was just sufficient to counterbalance the
wind, so that acting in the capacity of the tail of a kite, he assisted
materially, if involuntarily, in keeping the artificial bird in flight.
When the captain became aware of what was going on below, he altered
the angle of the wings and came slowly to the earth, descending without
accident either to himself or to his machine. All things considered,
this was a remarkable performance, and it was so considered by people
in the neighborhood, who made a hero of the gallant mariner. His next
attempt, however, was less successful. Something went wrong with the
machine shortly after starting, landing the inventor in a stone-quarry
with a broken leg and a shattered machine. This accident also shook the
courage of the captain, and for several years he made no more attempts
at flight, confining his attention to sailing a coasting-vessel. But
his faith in his "albatross" never wavered, even if his courage did for
a time, and in 1867 he began building a more elaborate machine, aided
by public subscriptions. The outlook for this new device seemed very
promising, several fairly successful flights of perhaps two hundred
yards having been made, when a sudden gust of wind catching up the
machine one day during the momentary absence of the inventor, dashed
it to pieces upon the ground. This was the final blow to the hopes
of Captain Le Bris, who made no further attempts, his means and his
energies being entirely exhausted.
GIFFARD, "THE FULTON OF AERIAL NAVIGATION"
Meanwhile the advocates of the dirigible balloon had not remained idle,
many of them attempting to utilize the principle of the aeroplane
in connection with a balloon. Some of these machines were of most
fantastic design, but one in particular, that of Mr. Henri Giffard,
succeeded so well, and proved to be dirigible to such an extent, that
Giffard is sometimes referred to by enthusiastic admirers as "the
Fulton of aerial navigation." In principle, and indeed in general
appearance, this balloon was not unlike some of the balloons built by
Santos-Dumont fifty years later. It had the now-familiar cigar shape,
common to most modern dirigible balloons; and beneath was suspended a
car carrying a steam-engine that worked a screw propeller. The rudder,
placed at the stern just below the balloon in a position corresponding
to the rudder of a ship, was a large canvas sail set in a frame.
The envelope of the balloon was one hundred and fifty feet long and
forty feet in diameter and contained about ninety thousand cubic feet
of coal-gas. To lessen the danger of igniting this from the engine,
Giffard arranged the chimney so that it pointed downward, and suspended
it some forty feet below the envelope.
On September 24, 1852, he rose from the Paris Hippodrome, and succeeded
in making a headway of from five to seven miles an hour in the face
of a strong wind. In response to the rudder his balloon performed
some difficult evolutions, turning right or left at the will of
the operator. He continued his maneuvers for some time, and then
extinguishing his fire, opened the valve and returned safely to the
ground. This was a great victory for the advocates of the dirigible
balloon, and was indeed a performance that has not until recently been
surpassed in the fifty years that have intervened since that time.
But despite this initial success, Giffard soon renounced the field of
aeronautics, and no worthy successor appeared to take his place for
more than a quarter of a century.
THE VOYAGES OF THE _GIANT_
One of the most remarkable balloons ever constructed, and one of the
most remarkable voyages ever made in any balloon, was that of the
mammoth aerostat constructed by the noted Parisian photographer,
Nadar, in 1863. Nadar belonged to the school of aviators who opposed
the principle of the balloon as against that of the aeroplane, and his
idea in constructing this leviathan balloon was simply for the purpose
of raising money so that he might build a practical flying-machine,
constructed on the aeroplane principle, and which, he declared,
would revolutionize air navigation. The _Giant_, he said, would be
the last balloon ever constructed, as thereafter air-ships, made on
the principle of the one he was about to construct, would supplant
balloons entirely. His plan was to make the ascent in the _Giant_ from
some large enclosed field near Paris, and the admission price of one
franc to be charged for entering the field was to supply funds for
defraying the expense of building the _Giant_, the surplus to be used
in constructing his flying-machine.
In making the _Giant_ twenty-one thousand yards of silk were used,
the balloon being over two hundred feet in height, with a lifting
capacity of nine thousand pounds. It was built as a double balloon,
one within the other, this being the idea of the aeronaut, Louis
Godard, as a means of preserving the excess of gas produced by dilation
at different altitudes, instead of losing this excess as was usual
with balloons constructed in the ordinary manner. But perhaps the
most interesting thing about this balloon was the structure of the
car and its contents. Like the ordinary car it was constructed of
wicker work, but was of the proportions of a small house, being built
two stories high, with an upper platform like the deck of a ship,
on which the passengers could stand. In the two floors below were a
saloon, compartments for scientific instruments, sleeping-cabins, and
practically all the conveniences of a small, modern house. In the car
and suspended about it were wheels, guns, a printing-press, cameras,
cages of carrier-pigeons, baskets of wine and provisions, games, and an
"abundant supply of confectionery."
The first ascent was made from the Champs de Mars, and twenty-five
thousand persons paid the admission fee to witness it. This did not by
any means represent the number of persons on the field, as the barriers
were broken down in many places early in the day, and a majority of
the spectators thus gained free admission. Fifteen persons made the
ascent upon this occasion, but instead of making a protracted voyage as
intended at first, the balloon was brought to the earth at nine o'clock
in the evening only a few leagues from Paris. It is said that this
landing was made contrary to the wishes of Nadar, but in deference to
the opinion of the Godard brothers, who believed that the balloon was
being carried out to sea, whereas, in point of fact it was travelling
due east, directly away from the Atlantic.
Three weeks later the second ascent was made, on this occasion eight
instead of fifteen persons starting on the voyage. These were under
the immediate command of Nadar, whose position was that of the captain
of a ship on the high seas, and whose authority none might presume to
question. A set of rules governing the conduct of those on board and
setting forth explicitly the authority of the captain was posted in
the cabin, the nature of some of these giving a cue to the peculiar
attitude of mind of the originator of the scheme. For example, it was
ordered that "Silence must be absolutely observed when ordered by
the captain." "All gambling is expressly prohibited." "On landing no
passenger must quit the balloon without permission duly acquired from
the captain."
The ascent was again successful, the balloon travelling in a
northeasterly direction during the night, all the passengers remaining
awake and alert, having constantly in mind the danger of falling into
the sea. The following morning on descending to a lower altitude
through the clouds, the voyagers found that they were passing the
border of Holland, near the sea. At this point an attempt was made to
land, but a violent gale having arisen, the anchor cables were broken,
and the car was dragged along the surface of the ground at terrific
speed, striking and rebounding into the air, dragging through marshes
and rivers, bruising and battering the occupants who were unable either
to leave the balloon or to check its flight. As they were whirling
across the country in this manner an immense forest came into view
directly in their path, and believing that when this was reached every
occupant of the car would be dashed to pieces against the trees, they
decided to take their chances by leaping. One after another they
jumped, striking the earth and turning over and over, breaking bones,
and mangling faces and bodies. The only female occupant of the car,
Mrs. Nadar, was fortunate in alighting in a river without serious
injury. Others received only slight bruises or a severe jolting while
the most unfortunate, M. St. Felix, had a broken arm, a dislocated
ankle, and numerous cuts and bruises.
Later the _Giant_ was captured many miles farther on and returned to
its owners in Paris. Subsequently it made numerous voyages, none of
which was particularly profitable, however, so that the purpose for
which it was designed was not fulfilled, and Nadar's proposed air-ship
was never constructed.
While the _Giant_ was the largest balloon hitherto constructed, it
broke no records either for speed attained or distance travelled, and
much more notable performances in this respect had been made before its
time and have been made since. Thus, one of Coxwell's balloons traveled
from Berlin in the direction of Dantzig, covering the distance of one
hundred and seventy miles in three hours. This was in 1849; and in the
same year M. Arban crossed the Alps from Marseilles to Turin, covering
the distance of four hundred miles in eight hours. In July, 1859,
the American aeronaut, John Wise, sailed from St. Louis, Missouri,
to Henderson, in New York State, in nineteen hours, travelling eight
hundred and fifty miles at the rate of forty-six miles an hour. This
was the longest voyage ever made until the time of the balloon-races
started from the Paris Exposition, in 1900. On this occasion Conte de
la Vaux, starting from Paris, remained in the air thirty-five hours and
forty-five minutes, landing at Korosticheff, in Russia, 1193 miles from
the starting-point, thus breaking all previous records.
EARLY WAR-BALLOONS AND DIRIGIBLE BALLOONS
Despite the fact that the "aviators"--the aeronauts whose efforts
were directed to flight by mechanical means in imitation of birds,
or by the use of what are now called aeroplanes--were in the field
centuries before the balloon was invented, from the time of the first
Montgolfier balloon until very recently, the balloonists had shown
their rivals a clean pair of heels in practical results. A dirigible,
man-carrying balloon that can be guided under favorable conditions, and
can maintain itself in the air for any considerable length of time, was
an accomplished fact at least five years before the practical aeroplane
flying-machine. Yet the majority of scientists had become convinced
several years before their convictions were verified by actual
demonstration, that some type of mechanical flying-machine--a machine
that is heavier than the atmosphere and that maintains itself by some
mechanical means--was the only one likely to solve the question of
aerial flight. Yet thus far balloons have rendered more actual service
to man than flying-machines.
It will be recalled that balloons were used for making military
observations during the French Revolution; and they were used for
similar purposes in several of the Continental wars during the first
half of the nineteenth century. After that time, however, interest
in their use for this purpose flagged somewhat until the time of the
Crimean War, when their usefulness was again demonstrated, as it was in
the American Civil War which followed shortly after.
But it was not until the Franco-Prussian War that the one thing for
which the Montgolfiers had predicted their usefulness in warfare--that
of sending messages out from a closely besieged city--was put to
practical test. During the siege of Paris by the Germans in 1870-71,
when every other possible means of communication had been cut off, the
Parisians still kept in communication with the outside world by means
of balloons and carrier-pigeons. On September 23rd, the first ascent
of the siege was made by the aeronaut Durouf, who carried a large
number of despatches from the city, landing near Evreux, after being
in the air about three hours. The success of this journey and several
others that quickly followed led the French Government to establish
a regular balloon-post, and to undertake the manufacture of balloons
for this purpose. The mere matter of balloon construction offered no
difficulty but a more serious one was met in the lack of experienced
aeronauts. In this emergency, however, it occurred to the authorities
that sailors, accustomed to climbing about at dizzy heights, might be
taught to take the place of trained aeronauts. This experiment proved
most successful, and in subsequent voyages these mariners maintained
their reputation for daring undertakings. Between September and January
sixty-four balloons were sent up, all but seven of which fulfilled
their mission and delivered their despatches; and the total number of
persons leaving Paris in balloons during the siege was one hundred and
fifty-five. These carried with them a total of nine tons of despatches
and something like three million letters, the speed with which these
journeys were made ranging from a minimum of twenty miles an hour to a
maximum velocity, in one instance, of eighty miles.
Shortly after this balloon-post was established, the Germans came into
possession of the new Krupp long-range rifle, with which they succeeded
in bringing down several of the balloons. Companies of Uhlans, the
swiftest cavalry of Germany, scoured the country constantly, and kept
such a sharp lookout that, as the German lines were extended, it became
difficult for the balloons to make their way over them in daylight.
Night voyages, therefore, became necessary; but naturally these
were extremely dangerous, and many of them had dramatic and tragic
terminations. One of the longest and most famous of these voyages was
that of the balloon named the _Ville d'Orléans_, which left Paris
about midnight of November 24th. As a strong wind was blowing from
the north at the time, it was hoped that the balloon would descend
in the vicinity of Tours. The first intimation that the voyagers had
that there was a deviation from this course was the sound of the
waves breaking against the shore beneath them. At this time they were
in a thick mist, and it was not until some time after daybreak that
this mist cleared away sufficiently for them to get an idea of their
surroundings. Then they found, to their horror, that they were over a
large body of water, out of sight of land, in what part of the world
they had not the slightest idea. The balloon appeared to be drifting
rapidly, and from time to time they passed over vessels, which were
frantically signaled by the voyagers. No notice was taken of these
signals except by one vessel, which responded by firing several shots
which went wide of the mark. The balloon continued on its course
northward until late in the day when land was sighted lying to the
northeast. By this time the ballast in the car had been entirely
expended, and the balloon, which had been sinking gradually for several
hours, seemed about to plunge into the ocean. In this extremity a heavy
bag of despatches was thrown out, and the balloon thus lightened again
rose to a considerable height, where another current of air carried it
over the land.
A successful landing was made in Norway, in a desolate but friendly
region, where the balloonists were treated with the greatest kindness.
The balloon and its contents were subsequently secured, and all the
despatches delivered to their proper destinations, except, of course,
the one package that had been thrown out as ballast.
A week after the eventful voyage of the _Ville d'Orléans_ a still
more unfortunate ascent was made by a sailor named Prince, in the
balloon called the _Jacquard_. As the ropes releasing this balloon
were cut, the enthusiastic mariner, standing in his car and extending
his hand toward the crowd, shouted dramatically, "I go upon a great
voyage!" He did--and on one much greater than he anticipated--for the
balloon was blown out to sea and lost. As he was passing over England
after successfully crossing the Channel, he threw out his package of
despatches, but this so lightened his balloon that it mounted quickly
and was soon far out over the Atlantic. It was never heard of again.
But the life of the enthusiastic voyager was not given in vain, for
most of the despatches eventually reached their destination.
Although, as has been seen, the balloons sent out of Paris were not of
the dirigible kind, and were entirely dependent upon the caprice of the
winds, they fulfilled their missions quite as well as could be expected
under the circumstances. In fact, there was small chance of failure,
starting as they did from a central point, and being almost certain of
success no matter what direction was taken, except, indeed, the one
that would blow them over the German frontier. But the other part of
the problem--the sending of balloons from the outside into Paris--was
an entirely different proposition. So different, and so difficult, in
fact, that it was never accomplished, although attempted several times.
But the millions of people in Paris, shut off completely from the
outside world, were just as anxious to receive news as to send it. In
attempting to establish communication from without, therefore, one
balloon leaving the city in the early days of the siege, carried with
it some trained dogs in the hope that they would make their way back to
the city through the German lines. But either they lost their way, or
were captured by the enemy, for nothing was ever heard of them after
starting on the return trip. In this extremity the members of the
"Société Colombophile" came forward with the offer of the use of their
homing-pigeons. The society had a large number of these birds, trained
to return to their cotes from long distances, and the experiment of
sending return despatches with them was tried at once. Three birds
were first sent out in one of the despatch-balloons, and within
sixteen hours after starting these had all returned to the capital,
bearing despatches. During the next few days a score more pigeons were
sent out, eighteen of which returned safely with their messages; and
thereafter a regular pigeon-post was organized.
As the weight that a pigeon is able to carry in its flight is extremely
small, microscopic photography was resorted to, so that, although each
bird carried only a single quill in which were rolled thin collodion
leaves, the whole weighing only fifteen grains, the amount of printed
matter thus carried was sometimes more than is contained in an ordinary
volume.
By photographic methods, thirty-two thousand words, or about half an
ordinary volume, were crowded upon a pellicule two inches long by one
and one-quarter inches wide, and weighing about three-quarters of a
grain! Twenty of these, representing six thousand words, or twice the
amount of printed matter contained in such a book as Scott's _Ivanhoe_,
or Prescott's _Conquest of Mexico_, were carried by each pigeon. One
bird carried forty thousand complete messages on a single trip.
When the bird arrived at its cote, the quill was secured and taken
to the government office, where the little leaflets were carefully
removed, placed in an enlarging optical apparatus, thrown upon a screen
with a magic lantern, and copied. The messages were then distributed to
their destination about the city.
THE DIRIGIBLE BALLOON ACHIEVED
By this war, France, the home of the balloon, was brought keenly to
realize the advantages and the limitations of such flying-machines;
and it was but natural, under the circumstances, that as soon as peace
was restored, efforts should be made there to produce a dirigible
balloon, or some other form of dirigible flying-machine. Giffard, as
we have seen, had been fairly successful; and now M. Dupuy de Lome,
chief naval constructor of France, took up the problem. He constructed
a balloon with a cigar-shaped envelope one hundred and twenty feet
long and fifty feet in diameter. Beneath this was a rudder placed in
the same position as that of a ship; and suspended still further below
was a large car fitted with a two-bladed screw-propeller, thirty feet
in diameter. Manual labor was to be used for turning this screw, two
relays of four men each relieving each other at the work. An ascent
was made in February, 1872, with fourteen persons in the car, who,
by working in relays, demonstrated that a speed of about seven miles
an hour could be maintained in any direction in still air. As the
wind was blowing about thirty miles an hour at the time, however, the
course of the balloon could only be deflected, and the main object of
the ascent--the return to Paris--could not be accomplished. In short,
De Lome's balloon demonstrated little more than had been accomplished
by Giffard with his steam-driven balloon. Both had shown that with
sufficient power the balloon could be made to travel in any direction
in still air, but neither had been able to make headway against a
strong wind.
It was estimated at the time of Dupuy de Lome's ascent, that had a
steam-engine of a weight corresponding to that of the eight workmen
been used, at least twice the power could have been obtained. But
steam was considered too dangerous, and some other motive power which
combined lightness with power seemed absolutely essential. The electric
motor gave promise of success in this direction, and in 1883 the two
Tissandier brothers in France applied such a motor to a balloon that
was able to make headway against a seven-mile breeze, but was still far
from fulfilling the requirements of an entirely dirigible balloon. Two
years later the motor-driven balloon _La France_, of Renard and Krebs,
attained a speed of fourteen miles an hour, and showed a distinct
advance over all preceding models.
Meanwhile motors were being reduced in weight and increased in power,
and the hearts of aviators and balloonists were cheered by the fact
that the light metal, aluminum, was steadily growing cheaper. Visions
of an all-aluminum balloon were constantly before the minds of the
inventors, and in 1894 such dreams took practical form in a balloon
whose construction was begun by Herr Schwartz, under the auspices
of the German Government. This balloon was of most complicated
construction, depending for its lifting power upon the gas-filled
aluminum tank, but utilizing for its steering-gear many of the features
of the aeroplane. It was essentially a balloon, not a flying-machine,
however, with a ten to twelve horse-power benzine-engine actuating four
propelling screws.
[Illustration: TWO FAMOUS FRENCH WAR BALLOONS.
The lower figure the dirigible war balloon "La Patrie," which
manœuvered on the Eastern boundary of France, and which was blown
away and lost taking a northwesterly direction which probably landed
it ultimately in the Arctic Sea--in 1908. The upper figure represents
M. Deutsch's dirigible balloon "Ville de Paris" which was sent to the
frontier to take the place of the lost "Patrie."]
Before the balloon was completed Herr Schwartz died, but his plans were
known to his wife, and, although considerably altered, were carried to
completion. When all was finished, Herr Jaegels, an engineer who had
had no experience as an aeronaut, volunteered to make an ascent and
this metal ship-of-promise was launched. At first it rose rapidly and
appeared to be making good progress against a strong wind; but suddenly
it stopped, descended rapidly, and was smashed to pieces, the aeronaut
saving himself by jumping just before it touched the ground. It
developed later that he had lost control of the machine, simply because
the machinery was too complicated for a single operator to handle. On
discovering this, Herr Jaegels, confused for the moment, threw open the
valve, causing the balloon to descend too rapidly. Thus the fruit of
years of study and labor and the expenditure of fifty thousand dollars
in money resulted in only about six minutes of actual flight.
To most persons this experiment of the aluminum balloon would seem to
have been a dismal failure, but it was not so regarded by the advocates
of the dirigible balloon. The flight of the balloon, to be sure, was
far from a success; but this was attributed to improper management
rather than to any inherent defect in the balloon itself, or in the
principle upon which it was constructed. Instead of being discouraged,
therefore, the school of balloonists, who had lost some of their
prestige of late by the performances of the flying-machines of Maxim
and Langley, undertook, through their enthusiastic representative,
Count Zeppelin, the construction of the largest, most expensive,
and most carefully built dirigible balloon heretofore constructed.
This balloon was of proportions warranting the name of "air-ship."
The great cigar-shaped body was almost four hundred feet in length,
and thirty feet in diameter--the proportions of a fair-sized ocean
liner--and like the hull of its ocean prototype, was divided into
compartments--seventeen in number, and gas-tight. Its frame-work was of
aluminum rods and wires, and the skin of the envelope was made of silk,
coated with india-rubber. It was equipped with four aluminum screws,
and two aluminum cars were placed below the body at a considerable
distance apart. The motive power was supplied by benzine motors,
selected because of their lightness.
The company for constructing this balloon was capitalized at about two
hundred thousand dollars, the cost of the shed alone, which rested on
ninety-five pontoons on the surface of the lake of Constance, near the
town of Manzell, being fifty thousand dollars. July 2nd, 1910, the
count and four assistants in the cars, started on the maiden voyage.
The balloon rose and made headway at the rate of eighteen miles an
hour, responding readily to the rudder, but soon broke or deranged
some of the steering-gear so that it became unmanageable and descended
at Immerstaad, a little over three miles from the starting-point.
Considering the amount of thought, care, and money that had been
expended upon it, its performance could hardly be looked upon as a
startling success. By the advocates of the aeroplane principle it was
considered an utter failure.
[Illustration: THE ZEPPELIN DIRIGIBLE BALLOON.
Count Zeppelin's famous balloons are of the semi-rigid type, being
cased in thin loops of aluminum. The wing-like projections at the
sides add greatly to the stability and dirigibility of the balloon.
The problem of housing has been met by erecting a structure over the
water. It is planned to have a balloon house that will revolve and thus
facilitate the introduction of the balloon whatever the direction of
the wind. With the above stationary house this is a difficult manœuvre
if the wind chances to blow laterally.]
But while Count Zeppelin was experimenting with his ponderous leviathan
air-ship, a kindred spirit, the young Brazilian, M. Santos-Dumont,
was making experiments along similar lines, but with balloons that
were mere cockle-shells as compared with the German monster. The
young inventor had come to Paris from his home in South America
backed by an immense fortune, and by a fund of enthusiasm, courage,
and determination unsurpassed by any aerial experimenter in any age.
He began at once experimenting with balloons of different shapes,
with screws and paddles, and, perhaps most important of all, with
the new, light petroleum-motors just then being introduced for use
on automobiles, electricity not having proved a success in aerial
experiments.
His first balloon, _No. 1_, built in 1898, was devoid of any
particularly novel features. His _No. 2_ showed some advancement,
and his _No. 3_, while a decided improvement, still came far short
of answering the requirements of a dirigible balloon. But the young
experimenter was learning and profiting by his failures--and,
incidentally, was having hairbreadth escapes from death, meeting with
many accidents, and being severely injured on occasion.
About this time a prize of one hundred thousand francs was offered
by M. Deutsch to the aeronaut who should ascend from a specified
place in a park in Paris, make the circuit of the Eiffel Tower, and
return to the starting-point within half an hour. With the honor of
capturing this prize as an additional incentive, Santos-Dumont began
the construction of his fourth balloon, the _Santos-Dumont No. 4_.
In this balloon everything but bare essentials was sacrificed to
lightness, even the car being done away with, the aeronaut controlling
the machinery and directing the movements of the balloon from a bamboo
saddle. But an accident soon destroyed this balloon, and a fifth was
hastily constructed. With this the enthusiastic aeronaut showed that
he was almost within grasping distance of the prize in a series of
sensational flights between the first part of July and the first week
in August. The tower was actually rounded, but on the return trip
the balloon collided with a high building in the Rue Alboni and was
wrecked, the escape of the aeronaut without a scratch being little
short of miraculous.
Nothing daunted, the inventor began the construction of _Santos-Dumont
No. 6_ immediately, finishing it just twenty-eight days after the
construction of _No. 5_. A peculiarity of this balloon was that it
was barely self-sustaining except when forced through the air by the
propeller. The long cigar-shaped gas-bag was relatively small, and was
filled to its limit of capacity with gas, while the lifting power was
counterbalanced by the operator, car, engine, and ballast, so that the
entire structure weighed practically the same as the air it displaced.
At the stern was a powerful propeller. Obviously, then, if the long
spindle-shaped machine was tilted upward at the forward end, and the
propeller started, it would be driven upward; while if the forward end
was lowered the propeller would drive it downward. If it was balanced
so as to be perfectly horizontal, it would be forced forward in a
horizontal direction. Deflections to right and to left were obtained by
the ordinary type of vertical rudder; and thus any direction could be
taken.
[Illustration: AN ENGLISH DIRIGIBLE BALLOON.
The photograph here reproduced gives a very vivid impression of the
cumbersome nature of balloons of this modern type, and suggests the
difficulties to be met in housing them safely when not in use.]
To obtain the desired angle of inclination, Santos-Dumont made
use of a sliding weight, and with this he guided his balloon upward
and downward by shifting its position. Thus, although this balloon
was a veritable balloon rather than a "flying-machine" proper, it
really lacked the one essential common to balloons: it would not rise
until propelled by mechanical means. It lacked the requisite of the
flying-machine, however, in that it was not "many times heavier than
the air." After giving this new balloon several preliminary trials,
which included such exciting incidents as collisions with a tree
in the Bois du Boulogne, an official attempt was made on October
29th, 1800. Above the heads of the gaping thousands, who, to a man,
wished the daring navigator success, the balloon rounded the tower,
and in twenty-nine minutes and thirty seconds from the moment of
starting--thirty seconds less than the prescribed time-limit--the trip
was successfully terminated.
This voyage must be considered as marking an epoch in aerial
navigation. The dirigible balloon was accomplished. A decided step
forward in the conquest of the air had been made, although from a
practical standpoint this step was confessedly a short one. For while
_No. 6_ could be propelled in any direction under ordinary conditions,
carrying a single passenger, it was on the whole more of a toy
ship than a practical sailing-craft. Nevertheless, its performance
was a decided victory for the balloon over the flying-machine.
No flying-machine of whatever type had ever even approached the
performance of _Santos-Dumont No. 6_, which had carried a man on a
voyage in the air, traveling with the wind, against it, and with the
wind on either quarter at every possible angle at various times during
the journey. And yet there were few scientists, indeed, if any, who
considered that the problem of aerial navigation was solved; and to
a large number Santos-Dumont's performance seemed little more than
an extension of Giffard's idea, made possible by improved machinery
not available half a century ago. To them it was the triumph of the
energy, skill, and courage of an individual, not the triumph of a
principle--which, after all, is the absolute essential.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: ENGLISH (LOWER FIGURE) AND AMERICAN DIRIGIBLE WAR
BALLOONS AND A WRIGHT AEROPLANE.
The above figures are introduced on one page for the purpose of
comparison and contrast. The American balloon is the Baldwin airship.
The essential clumsiness of a lighter-than-air craft, as contrasted
with the relative gracefulness and manageableness of the aeroplane, is
strikingly suggested by this illustration.]
Since the successful performance of Santos-Dumont in rounding the
Eiffel Tower many other dirigible balloons have been constructed,
not only in America and in Europe by various inventors, but by the
Brazilian aeronaut himself. The most remarkable of these is the
_Zeppelin II_, the fifth creation of the indomitable Count Zeppelin.
In principle and general lines of construction this balloon closely
resembles the one described a few pages back. Its best performance,
however, is more remarkable. Starting from Lake Constance on the night
of May 29th, 1909, and sailing almost directly northward regardless
of air currents, the balloon reached Bitterfield, a few miles beyond
Leipzig, four hundred and sixty-five miles from the starting-point,
the following evening. Turning back at this point, without alighting,
it had almost completed its return trip, when on coming to the ground
for a supply of fuel it was injured by collision with the branches of a
tree. The injury sustained, while delaying and marring the voyage, did
not prevent the balloon from completing its eight-hundred-and-fifty
mile voyage, and establishing a new record for dirigibles.
This and sundry other flights amply demonstrated the dirigibility and
relative safety of the balloon under varying atmospheric conditions.
But the difficulties that attend the management of such a craft when
not high in air were again vividly illustrated when, in April, 1910,
the Zeppelin II., was totally wrecked while at anchor by the force of a
gale which it might easily have outridden had it been beyond the reach
of terrestrial obstacles.
X
THE TRIUMPH OF THE AEROPLANE
Although the dirigible balloon in the hands of Santos-Dumont gained
a decisive victory over all mechanical methods of flight theretofore
discovered, even the inventor himself considered it rather as a means
to an end, than the end itself. That end, it would seem, must be a
flying-machine, many times heavier than the atmosphere, but able by
mechanical means to lift and propel itself through the air. The natural
representative of this kind of flying-machine, the bird, is something
like a thousand times as heavy as the air which its bulk displaces.
The balloon, on the other hand, with its equipments and occupants,
must necessarily be lighter than air; and as the ordinary gas used for
inflating is only about seven times lighter than the atmosphere, it can
be readily understood that for a balloon to acquire any great amount
of lifting power it must be of enormous proportions. To attempt to
force this great, fragile bulk of light material through the atmosphere
at any great rate of speed is obviously impossible on account of
the resistance offered by its surfaces. On the other hand, any such
structure strong enough to resist the enormous pressure at high speed
would be too heavy to float.
[Illustration: THE AEROPLANE OF M. SANTOS DUMONT.
M. Santos Dumont's chief fame as an aviator is based on his flights
with a dirigible balloon. He has experimented extensively, however,
with the heavier-than-air type of machine, though none of his flights
with this apparatus has been record-breaking.]
These facts are so patent that it is but natural to inquire how
the balloonists could ever have expected to accomplish flight at
more than a nominal rate of speed; and, on the other hand, it might
be asked, naturally enough, how the aviators expected to fly with
aeroplane machines at least a thousand times heavier than the air.
In reply, the aviators could point to birds and bats as examples of
how the apparently impossible is easily accomplished in nature; while
the balloonists could simply point to their accomplished flights as
practical demonstrations. The aviators could point to no past records
of accomplishments, but nevertheless they had good ground for the faith
that was in them, and as we shall see were later to justify their
theories by practical demonstrations.
Everybody is aware that there is an enormous difference in the
lifting power of still air and air in motion, and that this power is
dependent upon velocity. The difference between the puff of wind that
barely lifts a thin sheet of paper from the table, and the tornado
that uproots trees and wrecks stone buildings, is one of velocity.
Obviously, then, moving air is quite a different substance from still
air when it comes to dealing with aeronautics.
One of the most familiar examples of the lifting power of moving air
is that of the kite. An ordinary kite is many times heavier than the
air and has no more tendency to rise in the air than a corresponding
weight of lead under ordinary conditions. Yet this same kite, if held
by a string with its surfaces inclined to the wind at a certain angle,
will be lifted with a force proportionate to the velocity of the wind
and the size of the surfaces. On a windy day the kite-flyer holding
the string and standing still will have his kite pushed upward into
the air by the current rushing beneath its surface. On a still day he
may accomplish the same thing by running forward with the kite-string,
thus causing the surface of the kite to "slide over" the opposing
atmosphere. In short, it makes no difference whether the air or kite is
moving, so long as the effect of the current rushing against the lower
surface is produced. Obviously, then, if in place of the kite-flyer
holding the string and running at a certain speed, some kind of a motor
could be attached to the kite that would push it forward at a rate of
speed corresponding to the speed of the runner, the kite would rise--in
short, would be converted into a flying-machine.
Looked at in another way, the action of the air in sustaining a body
in motion in the air has been compared by Professor Langley to the
sustaining power of thin ice, which does not break under the weight
of a swiftly gliding skater, although it would sustain only a small
fraction of his weight if he were stationary. Supposing, for example,
the skater were to stand upon a cake of ice a foot square for a single
second; he would sink, let us say, to his waist in the water. On a cake
having twice the surface area, or two square feet, he would sink only
to his knees; while if the area of the cake is multiplied ten times
the original size, he would scarcely wet his feet in the period of a
second. Now supposing the cake to be cut into ten cakes of one square
foot each, placed together in a line so that the skater could glide
over the entire ten feet in length in one second. It is evident that
he would thus distribute his weight over the same amount of ice as if
the cakes were fastened together in a solid piece.
"So it is with the air," says Professor Langley. "Even the viewless air
possesses inertia; it cannot be pushed aside without some effort; and
while the portion which is directly under the air-ship would not keep
it from falling several yards in the first second, if the ship goes
forward so that it runs or treads on thousands of such portions in that
time, it will sink in proportionately less degree; sink, perhaps only
through a fraction of an inch."
It is evident, therefore, that if, at a given speed, the horizontal
wings of an air-ship would keep it from falling more than a fraction of
an inch in a second, by increasing the speed sufficiently and giving
the wings an upward inclination, the air-ship instead of falling might
actually rise. And this, as we shall see presently, is just what the
flying-machines of Sir Hiram Maxim and Professor Langley and of the
Wright brothers and their imitators did do.
LANGLEY'S EARLY EXPERIMENTS AND DISCOVERIES
It was while making an important series of experiments with aeroplanes
that Professor Langley made the discovery which has since been known
as "Langley's Law." In effect this law is that while it takes a
certain strain to sustain a properly disposed weight while stationary
in the air, to advance the weight rapidly takes _even less strain_
than when the weight is stationary. Thus, contrary to opinions held
until recently, and contrary to the rules for land vehicles and ships,
the strain of resistance of an aeroplane will diminish instead of
increasing with the increase of speed. Professor Langley proved this
remarkable fact with a most simple but ingenious device. It consisted
of an immense "whirling table," driven by an engine, so arranged that
the end of a revolving arm could be made to travel at any speed up
to seventy miles an hour. At the end of this arm, surfaces disposed
like wings were placed, and whirled through the two hundred feet
circumference, until they were supported like kites by the resistance
of the air.
A certain strain was, of course, necessary to support one of these
winglike structures when stationary in the air, but, curiously enough,
less strain was required when it was advanced rapidly. Thus a brass
plate of proper shape weighing one pound was suspended from a pull-out
spring scale, the arm of which was drawn out until it reached the
one-pound mark. When the whirling table was rotated with increasing
velocity the arm indicated less and less strain, finally indicating
only an ounce when the speed of a flying bird was reached. "The brass
plate seemed to float on the air," says Professor Langley, "and not
only this, but taking into consideration both the strain and the
velocity, it was found that absolutely less power was spent to make the
plate move fast than slow, a result which seemed very extraordinary,
since in all methods of land and water transport a high speed costs
much more power than a slow one for the same distance."
These experiments, which destroyed the calculations of Newton, long
held to be correct, showed that mechanical flight was at least
theoretically possible, indicating as it did that a weight of two
hundred pounds could be moved through the air at express-train
speed with the expenditure of only one horse-power of energy. Since
engines could be constructed weighing less than twenty pounds to the
horse-power, theoretically such an engine should support ten times its
own weight in horizontal flight in an absolute calm. As a matter of
fact there is no such thing as an absolute calm in nature, air-currents
being constantly stirring even on the calmest day, and this introduces
another element in attaining aerial flight that is an all-important
one. Indeed it has long been recognized that the mechanical power for
flight is not the only requisite for flying--there is, besides, the art
of handling that power.
EXPERIMENTS IN SOARING
Those who have watched soaring birds sail for hours on rigidly extended
wings will remember that while there is no flying movement, there are
certain shifts of the rigid body, either to offset some unexpected
gust of wind, or to produce movement in a desired direction. There
is an art of balancing here that has become instinctive in the bird
by long practice which could not be hoped for in the same degree in
a mechanical device, and which man could hope to acquire only by
practice. But in the nature of the case man has little chance to learn
this art of balancing in the air, and it is for this reason that the
many members of the balloonist school advocate the inflated bag in
place of the aeroplane. The argument advanced by them is that since
man has no chance naturally to acquire familiarity with balancing in
the air, the simplest and best way for him to acquire it is by making
balloon ascensions. When he has acquired sufficient skill he can
gradually reduce the lifting part of his flying-machine, or gas-bag,
gradually increasing the aeroplane or other means of propulsion and
lifting, until the balloon part of his device can be dispensed with
entirely.
In short, this argument of the balloon advocates is comparable to
two schools of swimming-teachers, one of whom advocates the use of
sustaining floats until the knack of swimming is acquired, the other
depending upon the use only of muscular movements and quickly acquired
skill. In this comparison the aviators have all the best of the
argument; for it is a common observation that persons who attempt to
learn to swim by the use of floats of any kind acquire that art slowly
if at all; while those who plunge in boldly, although they run more
risks, quickly learn the art that seems ridiculously easy when once
acquired.
[Illustration: LEARNING HOW TO FLY.
This gliding apparatus is not unlike that with which M. Chanute and
other early experimenters tested the qualities of air currents. The
apparatus here shown is being drawn by an automobile, so that its
action is virtually that of a kite. This picture was taken at Morris
Park, New York, in 1909. The descent was made too abruptly and the
aviator was seriously injured.]
The great German scientist, Helmholtz, after years of careful study,
finally reached the conclusion that man would never be able to fly
by his own power alone. But, as we have seen, Professor Langley had
shown that in these mysterious questions pertaining to flight even a
Newton could be wrong; and why not Helmholtz? Otto Lilienthal, also a
German, thought that his fellow-countryman _was_ wrong. For years
he had made a study of the flight of birds, and his studies had led
him to the same conclusions that have usually been reached by every
student of the subject, both before and since--that soaring flight,
without any flapping movement, is possible under certain conditions;
that curved surfaces can acquire a horizontal motion by the action of
the wind alone, "when their curvature bears a certain relation to their
superficies"--in short, a relation represented exactly by the wings of
birds.
It was not supposed by Lilienthal, or by any of the members of the
school of aviators, that simply by making a device that reproduced the
proportions and shape of a bird any person might mount and fly. But it
was believed that, given such a device, a man might learn to fly with
practice. Lilienthal, therefore, constructed a flying-machine with
correctly curved surfaces made of linen stretched over a light wooden
frame, the total area being about fourteen square yards, and the whole
machine weighing only about forty pounds. In the center was an aperture
where the operator was stationed, holding the frame in position by
his arms. Obviously, as no flapping motion in imitation of a bird's
wings was possible, some other means of giving the necessary impetus
for horizontal flight was necessary, and here again the study of birds
suggested a method.
It is a well-known fact that certain soaring birds cannot leave
the ground when once they have alighted, except by an initial run
to acquire the necessary speed; and every goose hunter is familiar
with the manner in which these birds run along the surface of water,
flapping their wings and skimming along some distance before they
acquire sufficient velocity to mount into the air. A description of a
similar action of an eagle in leaving the earth, written by a careful
observer a few years ago, has become classic. This huntsman had come
upon an eagle which had alighted upon the sandy banks of the Nile, and
had fired at it, thus stimulating the bird to its utmost energy in
getting into flight. Yet on examining the foot-marks made in the sand
it was found that, even under these circumstances, the bird had been
obliged to run "full twenty yards before he could raise himself from
the earth. The marks of his claws were traceable on the sandy soil,"
says the writer, "as, at first with firm and decided digs, he found his
way, but as he lightened his body and increased his speed with the aid
of his wings, the imprints of his talons gradually merged into long
scratches."
It is evident that if such a master of the art of flying as an eagle
must thus acquire initial velocity before flight is possible, a human
novice must do considerably more. The method that would naturally
suggest itself would be that of running down the slope of a hillside,
and Lilienthal adopted this method, beginning his flights by running
down the gentle slope of a hill against the wind, until the requisite
momentum was acquired. This was, indeed, a reversion to some of the
oldest types of flying-machines, but with this difference--that it was
the result of scientific study. The results attained proved that the
theory was not visionary--that scientists had not dreamed and studied
in vain. For, as little by little the experimenter gained experience,
he was able to soar farther and farther in his birdlike machine, in
one flight sailing a distance of twelve hundred feet. Under certain
favorable wind conditions he could sail from a hilltop without the
initial run, and at times he actually rose in the air to a point higher
than that from which he started.
As was to be expected in the very nature of the case, Lilienthal found
that part of the secret of success lay in maintaining his equilibrium
and in acquiring the faculty of doing this instinctively, as a bird
does. But he found, like the person learning to ride a bicycle, that
this was developed by repeated efforts. The action of the machine
itself was carefully studied, and various changes were made in his
apparatus from time to time as experience suggested them. Among other
things, feather-like sails, worked by a small motor, were attached to
the edge of the wings; and two smaller frames placed one above the
other were tried in place of one large frame. And still the operator
continued to make successful flights in all kinds of winds, sometimes
narrowly escaping disaster, but for three years always coming to
the ground safely. His confidence increased day by day, and as his
remarkable performances multiplied it seemed as if it would only be a
matter of time until he would be able to imitate the soaring bird and
sail almost as he pleased.
In writing of his experiences when, as it sometimes happened, he found
himself practically motionless in the air at a point higher than that
from which he started, he says: "I feel very certain that if I leaned a
little to one side, and so described a circle, and further partook of
the motion of the lifting air around me, I should sustain my position.
The wind itself tends to direct this motion; but then it must be
remembered that my chief object in the air is to overcome the tendency
of turning to the right or left, because I know that behind or under
me lies the hill from which I started, and with which I would come in
rough contact if I allowed myself to attempt this circle-sailing. I
have, however, made up my mind, by means of either stronger wind or by
flapping the wings, to get higher up and farther away from the hills,
so that sailing round in circles, I can follow the strong, uplifting
current, and have sufficient air-space under and around me to complete
with safety a circle, and lastly to come up against the wind again to
land."
Before he was ready to make this attempt, however, Lilienthal was
killed by a fall caused by a treacherous gust of wind which tilted his
machine beyond his control and hurled him to the ground.
Again the expectant world of aerial navigators was thrown into
despondency by the happening of the long expected--expected, and yet
not expected; for Lilienthal had made so many daring flights under
so many trying conditions, always managing to alight safely, that a
feeling of confidence had succeeded that of distrust. It was almost
like a bolt from a clear sky, therefore, when the news was flashed
around the world that Lilienthal was no more. But science has never yet
been daunted by the fear of death. Like a well-formed battle-line in
which the place of the fallen is always quickly filled, there is always
a warrior-scientist ready to sacrifice anything for the cause. And so,
although Lilienthal was gone, the work he had carried so far toward
success was continued by others, Chanute and Hering, the American
"soaring men," and later eclipsed by the Wright brothers, who were
finally to solve the problem.
THE FLYING MACHINES OF MAXIM AND LANGLEY
At the same time that Lilienthal was making his initial experiments,
another champion of the same school of aviators was achieving equally
successful results along somewhat different, and yet on the whole,
similar lines. Sir Hiram Maxim, the inventor of so many destructive
types of guns, was devoting much time and energy to the construction
of a flying-machine. His apparatus was of the aeroplane type, but
unlike that of Lilienthal, Chanute, or Hering, was to be propelled by
steam-driven screw-propellers. Nor was the apparatus he proposed to
make a diminutive affair weighing a few pounds and capable of lifting
only the weight of a man. His huge machine weighed in the neighborhood
of four tons and carried a steam-engine that developed some three
hundred and sixty horse-power in the screws. It was two hundred feet
in width, and mounted on a car track, along which it was to be run to
acquire the necessary initial velocity before mounting into the air.
On July 31, 1894, this huge machine started on a trial spin, carrying
a crew of three persons, besides fuel and water for the boilers. When
a speed of thirty-six miles an hour on the track had been acquired,
the apparatus lifted itself in the air, and sailed for some distance,
a maximum flight of over three hundred feet finally being made. This
experiment demonstrated several important things--in fact, solved
"three out of five divisions of the problem of flight," as Lord Kelvin
declared. It demonstrated that a flying-machine carrying its own
propelling power could be made powerful and light enough to lift itself
in the air; that an aeroplane will lift much more than a balloon of
equal weight; and that a well-made screw-propeller will grip the air
sufficiently to propel a machine at a high rate of speed.
Since the two remaining divisions of the five concerned in the problem
of flight had been already solved by Lilienthal, it seemed that it only
remained for some scientist to combine this complete knowledge in the
proper way to produce a practical flying-machine--one that would fly
through the air, and continue to fly until the power was exhausted. It
was not a startling announcement to the scientific world, therefore,
when about three years later the news was flashed that Prof. S. P.
Langley had produced such an apparatus.
[Illustration: FLYING MACHINES OF THE MONOPLANE TYPE.
Upper figure, the aeroplane of M. Robert Esnault-Pelterie. Middle
figure, the aeroplane of M. Blériot. Lower figure, the Vuia aeroplane,
a bat-like machine of freakish structure which had no large measure of
success. A modification of the boat-like machine shown in the upper
figure gained celebrity through its use by M. Latham in the first
attempt (in July, 1909) to fly across the English Channel. M. Blériot's
aeroplane as finally developed became a very successful flying machine.
With its aid M. Blériot was first to accomplish the feat of flying
across the English Channel (from Calais to Dover in about 23 minutes)
on the morning of July 25th, 1909. These pictures are reproduced from
the London Graphic of January 25th, 1908.]
Professor Langley described this really wonderful machine, which he
called the "aerodrome," as follows:
"In the completed form there are two pairs of wings, each slightly
curved, each attached to a long steel rod which supports them both, and
from which depends the body of the machine, in which are the boilers,
the engines, the machinery, and the propeller wheels, these latter
being not in the position of an ocean steamer, but more nearly
amidships. They are made sometimes of wood, sometimes of steel and
canvas, and are between three and four feet in diameter.
"The hull itself is formed of steel tubing; the front portion is closed
by a sheathing of metal which hides from view the fire-grate and
apparatus for heating, but allows us to see a little of the coils of
the boiler and all of the relatively large smokestack in which it ends.
There is a conical vessel in front which is simply an empty float,
whose use is to keep the whole from sinking if it should fall in the
water.
"This boiler supplies steam for an engine of between one and one-half
horse-power, and, with its fire-grate, weighs a little over five
pounds. This weight is exclusive of that of the engine, which weighs,
with all its moving parts, but twenty-six ounces. Its duty is to drive
the propeller wheels, which it does at rates varying from 800 to 1,200,
or even more, turns a minute, the highest number being reached when the
whole is speeding freely ahead.
"The rudder is of a shape very unlike that of a ship, for it is adapted
both for vertical and horizontal steering. The width of the wings from
tip to tip is between twelve and thirteen feet, and the length of the
whole about sixteen feet. The weight is nearly thirty pounds, of which
about one-fourth is contained in the machinery. The engine and boilers
are constructed with an almost single eye to economy of weight, not
of force, and are very wasteful of steam, of which they spend their
own weight in five minutes. This steam might all be recondensed and
the water re-used by proper condensing apparatus, but this cannot be
easily introduced in so small a scale of construction. With it the time
of flight might be hours instead of minutes, but without it the flight
(of the present aerodrome) is limited to about five minutes, though in
that time, as will be seen presently, it can go some miles; but owing
to the danger of its leaving the surface of the water for that of the
land, and wrecking itself on shore, the time of flight is limited
designedly to less than two minutes."
When this flying-machine was put to the actual test its performance
justified the most sanguine expectations; it actually flew as no other
machine had ever flown before. A number of men of science watched
this remarkable performance, among others Alexander Graham Bell,
the inventor of the telephone, who reported it to the Institute of
France. "Through the courtesy of Mr. S. P. Langley, Secretary of the
Smithsonian Institution, I have had on various occasions the pleasure
of witnessing his experiments with aerodromes," wrote Dr. Bell, "and
especially the remarkable success attained by him in his experiments
made on the Potomac River on Wednesday, May 6th [which led me to urge
him to make public some of these results].
"On the occasion referred to, the aerodrome, at a given signal, started
from a platform about twenty feet above the water, and rose at first
directly in the face of the wind, moving at all times with remarkable
steadiness, and subsequently swinging around in large curves of,
perhaps, a hundred yards in diameter, and continually ascending until
its steam was exhausted, when at a lapse of about a minute and a half,
and at a height which I judged to be between eighty and one hundred
feet in the air, the wheels ceased turning, and the machine, deprived
of the aid of propellers, to my surprise did not fall, but settled down
so softly and gently that it touched the water without the least shock,
and was in fact immediately ready for another trial."
To most persons, even to the cautious and scientific inventor himself,
the performance of this, and a second aerodrome which flew about
three-quarters of a mile, seemed to show that the secret of aerial
navigation was all but fathomed. "The world, indeed, will be supine,"
Langley wrote a short time after the success of his flying-machine, "if
it does not realize that a new possibility has come to it, and that
the great universal highway overhead is soon to be opened." What could
be plainer? A machine of a certain construction, weighing some thirty
pounds, and carrying at that some excess of weight, had been able to
fly a relatively long distance. What easier than to construct a machine
on precisely similar lines only ten, a hundred, a thousand times
larger, until it would carry persons and cargo, and fly across an ocean
or a continent?
Professor Langley himself, as was most fitting, undertook the
construction of such a man-carrying air-ship. And it was during this
undertaking that he made the momentous discovery that seemed to
oppose a question mark to the possibility of flight by the aeroplane
principle. This discovery was an "unyielding mathematical law that
the weight of such a machine increases as the cube of its dimensions,
whereas the wing surface increases as the square." In other words, as
the machine is made larger, the size of the wings must be increased
in an alarmingly disproportionate ratio. And the best that Professor
Langley's man-carrying flying-machine could do, after the inventor had
expended the limit of his ingenuity, was to dive into the waters of
Chesapeake Bay, instead of soaring through the air as its prototype,
the aerodrome, had done.
THE IMPOSSIBLE ACCOMPLISHED
The plunge of Langley's aerodrome downward into the water instead of
upward through space as had been confidently expected, carried with
it the hopes of a great number of hitherto enthusiasts, who were now
inclined to believe that the practical conquest of the air was almost
as far beyond our reach as it had been beyond that of all preceding
generations. Learned scientists were able to prove to their own
satisfaction, by long columns of figures and elaborate mathematical
calculations, that the air is unconquerable.
[Illustration: THE WRIGHT AEROPLANE.
The aeroplane is here shown at rest, facing the right. This is the
original type of bi-plane flying machines, of which all the others are
only modifications. The starting-rail along which the machine glides
while acquiring momentum is seen at the right; the rope connecting
it with the starting derrick, at the left. The sledge-like runners,
intended to break the shock of alighting, are plainly shown. The
parallel planes of canvas at the right are horizontal rudders to direct
the machine upward or downward. The vertical planes at the left are
active rudders to direct the machine laterally. The two paddle-like
structures at the back of the machine are the wooden propellers,
actuated (at a rate of from 1000 to 1400 revolutions per minute) by
an oil motor. With a machine of this type the Wright brothers, of
Dayton, Ohio, were the first to demonstrate the feasibility of aerial
navigation with a heavier-than-air machine; and world-famous flights
were made by Mr. Orville Wright at Washington and by Mr. Wilbur Wright
in France in the summer of 1908.]
But even as they labored and promulgated these conclusions, two
unknown men in a little Ohio town, discarding all accepted theoretical
calculations, and combining with their newly created tables of figures
a rare quality of practical application and unswerving courage, had
accomplished the impossible. Wilbur and Orville Wright--two names
that must always be linked with those of Fulton and Stephenson, only
possibly on a higher plane as conquerors of a more subtle element--were
at that very time making flights in all directions at will through the
air in their practical flying-machine. While others caviled and
doubted, these two modest inventors worked and accomplished; until
presently they were able to put in evidence a mechanism that may
perhaps without exaggeration be regarded as the harbinger of a new era
of civilization.
The interest of these two brothers in the fascinating field of air
navigation was first excited when, as boys, their father, a clergyman,
brought home for their amusement the little toy known to scientists
as a "hélicoptère," which, actuated by twisted rubbers that drive
tiny paper screws in opposite directions, actually rises and flutters
through the air. "A toy so delicate lasted only a short time in
the hands of small boys, but its memory was abiding" the inventors
themselves have tersely said. So abiding, indeed, that a few years
later they began making similar "bats," as they had dubbed the machines.
Soon they discovered that the larger the machine they made the less it
flew, and in pondering this fact they gradually evolved for themselves
the theory which is now known as Langley's unyielding mathematical
law, referred to a few pages back. The problem of human flight had not
been considered by them at this time, and it was not until the news of
Lilienthal's death startled the world that they entered the field of
invention in earnest. Then they began constructing gliding machines,
modifications of those of Lilienthal and Chanute, and began making long
flights, studying defects and overcoming adverse conditions as they
presented themselves.
By 1901, they had surpassed the performances of all predecessors,
yet, as they tell us, "we saw that the calculations upon which all
flying-machines had been based were unreliable, and that all were
simply groping in the dark. Having set out with absolute faith in the
existing scientific data, we were driven to doubt one thing after
another, till finally, after two years of experiment, we cast it all
aside, and decided to rely entirely upon our own investigations.
Truth and error were everywhere so intimately mixed as to be
indistinguishable. Nevertheless, the time expended in preliminary
study of books was not misspent, for they gave us a good general
understanding of the subject, and enabled us at the outset to avoid
effort in many directions in which results would have been hopeless."
From mere gliding machines without self-contained power the brothers
progressed through the various stages of achievement until in the
fall of 1903 they had created the type of flying-machine now made so
familiar to everyone through the pictorial publications. Incidentally
they had invented and constructed their own gasoline motor for
furnishing the power--an accomplishment of no mean importance in
itself. On December 17th, 1903, in the presence of a small company of
witnesses who had braved the cold, the Wright machine, carrying one
of the brothers, made a short but successful flight--the first ever
accomplished in which a machine carrying a passenger had raised itself
by its own power, sailed a certain distance in free flight, yet subject
to guidance, and landed itself and its passenger safely. Mr. Hiram
Maxim's machine had, indeed, lifted itself and its passengers, but it
sailed unguided through the air, and it could in no sense be said to
have made a flight comparable to that of a bird or a bat. The Wright
machine, on the other hand, progressed through the air under guidance
of its passenger, rising or settling, or turning to right or left as he
wished. Its progress constituted, in other words, a veritable flight.
Yet the problem of perfectly controlled flight under all ordinary
conditions was by no means completely mastered. The principle was
correct, but there were endless details to be worked out. The
embodiment of these is the Wright flying-machine of the present time.
In the Wright aeroplane the lifting power is obtained by two parallel
horizontal planes of canvas stretched over retaining-frames, placed
with their long diameters transversely to the direction of flight, as
in the case of the wings of a bird. At a little distance, in front of
these, are placed two horizontal parallel rudders, and at the back two
parallel vertical rudders. The machine is mounted on huge skids, which
resemble giant sled-runners in shape, but lighter and more flexible,
and is driven by two wooden-bladed propellers not unlike some of the
types of ship-propellers. For stability in flight under all kinds of
atmospheric conditions this machine has shown itself to be a true
flying-machine, capable of navigating the air in any direction at
the will of the operator, and remaining in flight a length of time
dependent entirely upon the amount of fuel carried.
The stability of this machine, particularly in a transverse direction,
has proved far greater than that of any of its predecessors or
contemporaries. The two horizontal rudder-planes mounted in front
maintain the fore-and-aft stability; while keeping the machine on an
even keel is accomplished by varying the angle of incidence by warping
the two main planes,--this being, indeed, a vitally important feature
of the mechanism. In this manner a greater lift on the low side and a
diminished lift on the high side is obtained, this being maintained
manually, as is the fore-and-aft stability. Since the warping of the
wings of the machine would tend to deflect it from its course, the
apparatus is so arranged that a single lever controls the flexible
portion of the wings and the vertical rudder, the motion of the latter
counteracting the disturbing influence that would otherwise result
from the twisting of the wing-tips. The discovery of this combination
gave the finishing touches to the aeroplane, and made it a manageable
mechanism. In other words, it made the flying machine a machine in
which man could fly.
[Illustration: MR. WILBUR WRIGHT PREPARING TO ASCEND IN HIS AEROPLANE
WITH HIS PUPIL M. CASSANDIER.]
This mechanism was patented in 1906, and the patent office
specifications then became accessible to other experimenters. The
French scientific workers had for some time recognized the success
of the Wright brothers' efforts, even when most Americans were
still skeptical. Now that the manner in which this success had been
obtained was disclosed, numerous experimenters began copying the
Wright brothers' successful machine, making sundry modifications,
while still adhering to the main principles through which success had
been obtained. The first of these experimenters to win conspicuous
success was Mr. Henry Farman, an Englishman residing in Paris, who on
the 13th of January, 1908, aroused the enthusiasm of the entire world,
and won a £2000 prize, by flying in a heavier-than-air machine in a
prescribed circle, covering about sixteen hundred yards, and alighting
at the starting-point.
This was more than four years after the Wright brothers had made far
more remarkable flights, to which few persons had paid any attention,
and of which most people had never heard. But in the autumn of the
same year Orville Wright in America, and Wilbur Wright in France began
a series of public flights which demonstrated for all time that the
air at last had been conquered, and that they were the unquestionable
conquerors. Orville, at Fort Myer, near Washington, on September
12th, electrified the world by flying continuously around a circular
course for an hour and fifteen minutes. This was the most conclusive
performance yet accomplished and set at rest all doubts as to the
possibility of mechanical flight. For no one could doubt that a machine
which could maintain itself in the air by its own power for more than
an hour was truly a flying-machine in the most exacting sense of the
term.
A few days after this performance an accident to the propeller of
this machine wrecked it, the resulting fall breaking the leg of the
inventor, and killing his companion, Lieutenant Selfridge of the United
States Army.
Almost simultaneously Wilbur Wright began a series of flights at
Le Mans, France, which demonstrated still more conclusively that
erstwhile earth-bound man had really learned to fly. His longest flight
lasted for two hours, twenty minutes, and twenty-three seconds; while
by flying over captive balloons at an altitude of three hundred and
sixty feet, he demonstrated that the mere matter of altitude offered no
obstacle.
From this time forward the number of aeronauts increased day by day,
and new records were made in bewildering confusion. Only a few of the
more spectacular of these need be referred to. On July 19, 1909, Hubert
Latham attempted a flight across the English Channel, but his motor
failed him and his machine plunged into the water, from which, however,
he was rescued, having suffered no injury. On July 25th, Louis Blériot
made a similar attempt with better results. Starting from the cliffs
near Calais he made the passage without mishap and landed near Dover.
[Illustration: THE FARMAN AEROPLANE.
This is the machine with which Mr. Farman, an Englishman living in
France, won the Deutsch prize in the early spring of 1908. This
performance was notable as being the most important public flight
hitherto made by a heavier-than-air machine. The Wright brothers of
Dayton, Ohio, had made numerous flights of far greater length, but the
general public was not aware of that fact and for a time Mr. Farman was
popularly regarded as the foremost of aviators. His best performances
were, however, eclipsed by the public flights of the Wright brothers a
few months later.]
There was of course no particular difficulty involved in the flight
across the Channel; but its obvious dangers, together with the
suggestion as to the new possibilities of the use of the airship in war
time,--the virtual elimination of that all-important barrier of water
that had proved so effective against England's foes in the past,--gave
to Blériot's flight a popular interest not exceeded by any preceding
achievement even of the Wright brothers. We may add that Blériot's
feat was presently duplicated by another Frenchman, Count Jacques de
Lesseps by name, who crossed the Channel in an aeroplane in May, 1910;
and excelled by the Hon. Charles S. Rolls, an Englishman, who on June
2nd, 1910, made a still more remarkable flight, in which he crossed
the Channel, starting from the cliffs near Dover, and after circling
over French soil without landing, returned to his starting-place. The
aeroplanes used by the two Frenchmen were of the monoplane type; that
used by Mr. Rolls was a Wright bi-plane.
Just at the time when the first successful cross-Channel flight was
made, the attention of aviators was focussed on the flights being made
near Washington by Mr. Orville Wright in the attempt to fulfill the
Government tests which had been so tragically interrupted the year
before. On July 27th, 1909, Mr. Wright successfully met the conditions
of the endurance test, by flying more than an hour carrying as a
passenger Lieutenant Frank P. Lahm. Three days later a more spectacular
flight, to a distance of five miles across country and return, over
tree-tops, hills, and valleys, with a passenger (Lieutenant Foulois),
was accomplished without mishap. This was in many respects the most
important flight, as suggesting the possible practical utility of the
aeroplane, that had hitherto been made.
Later in the same year Mr. Orville Wright went abroad with his
aeroplane and made a large number of flights at Berlin, demonstrating
to the German people the points of superiority of the aeroplane as
against the gigantic dirigible balloons to which that nation had
heretofore paid chief attention. Mr. Wilbur Wright meantime remained in
America to give flights about New York Harbor during the Hudson-Fulton
Centenary Celebration. On October 4th (1909), he made a sensational
flight up the Hudson from Governor's Island, circling about above the
warships anchored in the river in the neighborhood of Grant's Tomb, and
returning to land at his starting-point. What would probably have been
a still more spectacular flight was prevented by an accident to Mr.
Wright's motor just as he was about to start on the afternoon of the
same day.
Another flight that aroused great popular interest and enthusiasm was
made by the Frenchman Louis Paulhan in competition for a prize of
ten thousand pounds offered by the Daily Mail of London for a flight
from London to Manchester. Paulhan left London at 5:20 on the evening
of April 28, 1910. He descended at Litchfield but renewed his flight
early next morning, arriving at Manchester at 8:10. He had covered the
distance of 186 miles with a single stop, his actual flying time being
four hours and eleven minutes, or an average rate of 44.3 miles an
hour. In this flight M. Paulhan had for his only competitor Mr. White,
an Englishman, who made a daring flight but did not cover the entire
distance.
Paulhan had previously been known as one of the most daring of
aviators. At Los Angeles, California, on January 13, 1910, he rose to a
height of about 4,163 feet, establishing a record for altitude. He had
also made thrilling cross-country flights on the occasion of the Los
Angeles meet, as well as in France. Paulhan's record flights were made
in a Farman bi-plane.
[Illustration: THE MONOPLANES OF BLÉRIOT AND LATHAM.
The upper figure is that of Blériot launched for his flight across the
English Channel, on July 25th, 1909. The lower shows Latham starting in
an attempt to cross the Channel, which barely failed of success through
fault of the motor.]
The spectacular flight from London to Manchester was matched soon
after by Mr. Glenn H. Curtiss' flight from Albany to New York, which
took place May 29, 1910. Mr. Curtiss had already achieved fame as an
aviator, having won the chief speed contest in the International
Aviation Meet held at Rheims in August, 1909. He used a bi-plane of
his own construction, differing but little in design from the Wright
machine, but of very small size, and propelled by an eight-cylinder
motor, also made by Mr. Curtiss himself. The start from Albany was
made at three minutes after seven o'clock and the aviator arrived at
Governor's Island, New York Harbor, at twelve o'clock, having stopped
twice on the way to rest and take on fuel. The first stop was made
near Poughkeepsie, the second on the heights near the Hudson, within
the bounds of New York City. The distance covered 142½ miles; the
actual time of flight, 2 hours and 54 minutes,--an average speed
of about fifty miles an hour. Parts of the flight were made at a
good deal better speed. The first part of the journey from Albany
to Poughkeepsie, a distance of 74¼ miles, was covered in 1 hour 23
minutes, or at a rate of more than 53.68 miles an hour. The minimum
speed at which Mr. Curtiss' bi-plane could be maintained in the
air is about 40 miles an hour, the supporting surface of its main
plane comprising only 236 square feet, and the weight of the machine
complete, including aviator, fuel, and oil, being 950 pounds. The
machine uses a single propeller, 7 feet in diameter, making 1,100
revolutions per minute, and giving a pull, when the machine is held
stationary on the ground, of over 300 lbs. The engine used is an
eight-cylinder motor of 50 horse-power.
A flight in some respects even more interesting than that of Mr.
Curtiss was accomplished in France on the ninth of June, 1910, by
Lieutenant Feguant and Captain Marconnet, officers of the French army,
on a Farman bi-plane. "Starting from Chalons at 4:40 A. M.," says the
_Scientific American_, "the officers flew 176 kilometers (109¼ miles)
across country to the artillery park at Vincennes, which was reached at
7:10. This flight of two and one-half hours' duration was accomplished
at a speed of 43¾ miles per hour. Captain Marconnet was able to take
photographs and make sketches that would have been of great strategic
interest in time of war. This is the first practical demonstration of
the aeroplane for scouting purposes, in addition to its being a new
world's record for cross-country flying with two men in the machine.
Another French aviator, Labouchère, flew for ten minutes with two
passengers at Mourmelon on the same day."
[Illustration: A BRITISH AEROPLANE.
This apparatus was built and is operated by Colonel Cody of the British
Army. It has made flights of a mile or more. With minor modifications
it is, like all bi-plane flying machines hitherto constructed, of the
Wright aeroplane type.]
A record flight of yet another character was accomplished in America
by Charles K. Hamilton, a disciple of Curtiss, who, flying under
the auspices of the New York _Times_ and the Philadelphia _Public
Ledger_, attempted successfully a round-trip flight from New York to
Philadelphia on June 14, 1910. The aviator left Governor's Island at
7:36 A. M. and landed at Philadelphia at 9:26 A. M., having covered the
86 miles at an average speed of 46.92 miles an hour. After delivering
messages from the Governor of New York, and the Mayor of New York City,
Mr. Hamilton took wing at 11:33 for the return voyage. A difficulty
with his motor made it necessary for him to descend at South Amboy,
after covering 68 miles in 1 hour and 21 minutes. An injury to the
propeller necessitated a delay of several hours, but the aviator was
enabled to re-ascend at 6:17 and to land at Governor's Island at 6:40,
the return journey having been accomplished at an average hourly speed
of 51.36 miles.
The machine used by Mr. Hamilton is a Curtiss bi-plane, which in most
respects follows closely the model of the original Wright aeroplane,
but in which the function of the warping wings is fulfilled by two
small wings, or ailerons, adjusted at each side between the larger
planes. These ailerons, being deflected in opposite directions
simultaneously, meet any tendency of the machine to tip unduly.
Whether or not this method of maintaining lateral stability is the
same in principle as the Wright method of warping the large planes
themselves, is a question at issue between the inventors. From the
purely scientific standpoint it would seem that one method is merely a
modification of the other, which, however ingenious in its application,
introduces no new principle.
On the same day on which Mr. Hamilton's inter-urban flight took
place, a new record for altitude was made at Indianapolis by Mr. W.
H. Brookins, a pupil of the Wrights, who rose in the Wright bi-plane
to a height of 4,384 feet. The height was calculated by President
Lambert of the St. Louis Aero Club, with the aid of a sextant. Earlier
in the same day Mr. Brookins had risen about 2,000 feet. It becomes
increasingly difficult for an aeroplane to rise to great heights owing
to rarefaction of the upper atmosphere, but the flights of Paulhan
and Brookins, as well as various unmeasured altitudes attained in
cross-country flights, show that the aeroplane as at present equipped
may be depended upon to rise well toward the mile limit.
These are but a few of the interesting flights made within a brief
period after the Wright brothers' first successful demonstrations.
The number of the aviators who so quickly entered the field, and the
prominence given by the press to such feats as those of Blériot,
Paulhan, and Curtiss, have tended to distract attention from the
original inventors, and to produce some confusion in the popular mind
as to the exact share the various aviators have taken in the conquest
of the air. The facts, however, are quite clear and unequivocal. At
the time when the Wright brothers made their first successful flights,
comparatively few people in the world believed that anyone would ever
be able to propel himself through the air with safety or certainty in a
heavier-than-air apparatus.
The Wright brothers solved the problem after years of patient effort,
and solved it effectively and conclusively. They profited of course by
the efforts of predecessors, but they were the inventors of the airship
in a far fuller sense than, for example, Fulton was the inventor of the
steamboat, or Stephenson of the locomotive, or Morse of the telegraph.
To their success, and to that alone, must be ascribed the fact that
many scores of men in various parts of the world are now able to fly
in aeroplanes. Slight modifications of type mark various of these
aeroplanes, but no radical departure in principle.
[Illustration: Mr. Wilbur Wright flying over New York Harbor, October
4, 1909.]
In time, no doubt, flying-machines of quite different types will be
invented. Quite possibly the machines of the Wright model will
become altogether obsolete. But this can have no possible effect upon
the position that the Wright brothers themselves must always hold in
the history of scientific progress. The men who fly from New York
to San Francisco, or from New York to London, will be carrying out
the work of the Dayton pioneers; and no future accomplishment of the
heavier-than-air machine can possibly rank in historical importance
with that first flight in the presence of witnesses made December 17,
1903. Then and there it was successfully demonstrated that the last
difficulty, so far as joining theory and practice was concerned, had
been mastered. Potentially, from that moment, the conquest of the air
was complete; and the names of the conquerors as all the world knows,
and as throughout the future all must remember, are Wilbur and Orville
Wright.
APPENDIX
REFERENCE LIST AND NOTES
CHAPTER II
THE HIGHWAY OF THE WATERS
(pp. 77-79). The _Great Eastern_. The quotation is from _Ancient and
Modern Ships_, by Sir George C. V. Holmes, K.C.V.O., London, 1906.
CHAPTER III
SUBMARINE VESSELS
(pp. 95, 98). The first submarine. As stated in the text the quotation
is from a letter written to Thomas Jefferson by David Bushnell, and
published in the _Transactions of the American Philosophical Society_
in 1789.
(pp. 104-105). A successful diving boat. The quotation is from _The
Naval History of the Civil War_, by Admiral Porter.
CHAPTER IV
THE STEAM LOCOMOTIVE
(pp. 127, 128). George Stephenson's locomotive of 1825. The quotation
is from _The History of the First Locomotive in America_, by William H.
Brown, New York 1874.
CHAPTER VI
THE DEVELOPMENT OF ELECTRIC RAILWAYS
(pp. 179-181). Early experimental railways. The quotation is from the
article on "Street and Electric Railways," by Thomas Commerford Martin,
in the Special Report of the U. S. Census Office on Street and Electric
Railways, Washington, 1905.
CHAPTER IX
NAVIGATING THE AIR
(p. 247). Henson's studies of the flying-machine. The quotation is from
_Travels in Space_, by E. Seton Valentine and F. L. Tomlinson, New
York, 1902.
CHAPTER X
THE TRIUMPH OF THE AEROPLANE
(p. 275). How the air supports a heavier-than-air mechanism. The
quotation is from an article on "The Flying Machine," by Professor S.
P. Langley, in _McClure's Magazine_ for June, 1897.
(p. 284). Langley's aerodrome. The description is from Professor
Langley's own account in _McClure's Magazine_, above cited.
(pp. 289, 290). Experiments of the Wright brothers. The quotation is
from an article on "The Wright Brothers' Aeroplane," by Orville and
Wilbur Wright, in _The Century Magazine_ for September, 1908.
(p. 298). Cross-country Bight by French officers. The quotation is from
the _Scientific American_ of June 18, 1910. This periodical has shown
great interest in the new science of aeronautics, and was the first to
offer a trophy for long-distance flying--a trophy that was won for the
years 1908 and 1909 by Mr. Glenn H. Curtiss. The Wright brothers have
declined to compete for prizes; otherwise "records" for cross-country
flying and the like would doubtless have advanced even more rapidly
than has been the case.
Transcriber's Notes:
Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant
preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.
Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced
quotation marks retained.
Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.
Text uses both "aerial" and "aërial".
The references to Figs. 1 and 2 used subscripts. They are represented
here as simple numbers, e.g., R1.
Page 262: "representing six thousand words" should be "representing six
hundred thousand words".