The Mastery of the Air Part 9

At that time this was the only Dunne aeroplane in existence, but of course the plans were in the possession of the inventor, and it was an easy task to make a second machine from the same model. Two more machines were put in hand at Hendon, and a third at Eastchurch.

On 18th October, 1913, the Dunne aeroplane made its first public appearance at Hendon, in the London aerodrome, piloted by Commander Felix. The most striking distinction between this and other biplanes is that its wings or planes, instead of reaching from side to side of the engine, stretch back in the form of the letter V, with the point of the V to the front. These wings extend so far to the rear that there is no need of a tail to the machine, and the elevating plane in front can also be dispensed with.

This curious and unique design in aeroplane construction was decided upon by Lieutenant Dunne after a prolonged observation at close quarters of different birds in flight, and the inventor claims for his aeroplane that it is practically uncapsizable. Perhaps, however, this is too much to claim for any heavier-than-air machine; but at all events the new design certainly appears to give greater stability, and it is to be hoped that by this and other devices the progress of aviation will not in the future be so deeply tinged with tragedy.

CHAPTER x.x.xI. The Romance of a Cowboy Aeronaut

In the brief but glorious history of pioneer work in aviation, so far as it applies to this country, there is scarcely a more romantic figure to be found than Colonel Cody. It was the writer's pleasure to come into close contact with Cody during the early years of his experimental work with man-lifting box-kites at the Alexandra Park, London, and never will his genial smile and twinkling eye be forgotten.

Cody always seemed ready to crack a joke with anyone, and possibly there was no more optimistic man in the whole of Britain. To the boys and girls of Wood Green he was a popular hero. He was usually clad in a "cowboy" hat, red flannel s.h.i.+rt, and buckskin breeches, and his hair hung down to his shoulders. On certain occasions he would give a "Wild West" exhibition at the Alexandra Palace, and one of his most daring tricks with the gun was to shoot a cigarette from a lady's lips. One could see that he was entire master of the rifle, and a trick which always brought rounds of applause was the hitting of a target while standing with his back to it, simply by the aid of a mirror held at the b.u.t.t of his rifle.

But it is of Cody as an aviator and aeroplane constructor that we wish to speak. For some reason or other he was generally the object of ridicule, both in the Press and among the public. Why this should have been so is not quite clear; possibly his quaint attire had something to do with it, and unfriendly critics frequently raised a laugh at his expense over the enormous size of his machines. So large were they that the Cody biplane was laughingly called the "Cody bus" or the "Cody Cathedral."

But in the end Cody fought down ridicule and won fame, for in compet.i.tion with some of the finest machines of the day, piloted by some of our most expert airmen, he won the prize of L5000 offered by the Government in 1912 in connection with the Army trials for aeroplanes.

In these trials he astonished everyone by obtaining a speed of over 70 miles an hour in his biplane, which weighed 2600 pounds.

In the opening years of the present century Cody spent much time in demonstrations with huge box-kites, and for a time this form of kite was highly popular with boys of North London. In these kites he made over two hundred flights, reaching, on some occasions, an alt.i.tude of over 2000 feet. At all times of the day he could have been seen on the slopes of the Palace Hill, hauling these strange-looking, bat-like objects backward and forward in the wind. Reports of his experiments appeared in the Press, but Cody was generally looked upon as a "crank". The War Office, however, saw great possibilities in the kites for scouting purposes in time of war, and they paid Cody L5000 for his invention.

It is a rather romantic story of how Cody came to take up experimental work with kites, and it is repeated as it was given by a Mohawk chief to a newspaper representative.

"On one occasion when Cody was in a Lancas.h.i.+re town with his Wild West show, his son Leon went into the street with a parrot-shaped kite. Leon was attired in a red s.h.i.+rt, cowboy trousers, and sombrero, and soon a crowd of youngsters in clogs was clattering after him.

"'If a boy can interest a crowd with a little kite, why can't a man interest a whole nation?' thought Cody--and so the idea of man-lifting kites developed."

In 1903 Cody made a daring but unsuccessful attempt to cross the Channel in a boat drawn by two kites. Had he succeeded he intended to cross the Atlantic by similar means.

Later on, Cody turned his attention to the construction of aeroplanes, but he was seriously handicapped by lack of funds. His machines were built with the most primitive tools, and some of our modern constructors, working in well-equipped "shops", where the machinery is run by electric plant, would marvel at the work accomplished with such tools as those used by Cody.

Most of Cody's flights were made on Laffan's Plain, and he took part in the great "Round Britain" race in 1911. It was characteristic of the man that in this race he kept on far in the wake of MM. Beaumont and Vedrines, though he knew that he had not the slightest chance of winning the prize; and, days after the successful pilot had arrived back at Brooklands, Cody's "bus" came to earth in the aerodrome. "It's dogged as does it," he remarked, "and I meant to do the course, even if I took a year over it."

Of Cody's sad death at Farnborough, when practising in the ill-fated water-plane which he intended to pilot in the sea flight round Great Britain in 1913, we speak in a later chapter.

CHAPTER x.x.xII. Three Historic Flights

When the complete history of aviation comes to be written, there will be three epoch-making events which will doubtless be duly appreciated by the historian, and which may well be described as landmarks in the history of flight. These are the three great contests organized by the proprietors of the Daily Mail, respectively known as the "London to Manchester" flight, the "Round Britain flight in an aeroplane", and the "Water-plane flight round Great Britain."

In any account of aviation which deals with the real achievements of pioneers who have helped to make the science of flight what it is to-day, it would be unfair not to mention the generosity of Lord Northcliffe and his co-directors of the Daily Mail towards the development of aviation in this country. Up to the time of writing, the sum of L24,750 has been paid by the Daily Mail in the encouragement of flying, and prizes to the amount of L15,000 are still on offer. In addition to these prizes this journal has maintained pilots who may be described as "Missionaries of Aviation". Perhaps the foremost of them is M. Salmet, who has made hundreds of flights in various parts of the country, and has aroused the greatest enthusiasm wherever he has flown.

The progress of aviation undoubtedly owes a great deal to the Press, for the newspaper has succeeded in bringing home to most people the fact that the possession of air-craft is a matter of national importance. It was of little use for airmen to make thrilling flights up and down an aerodrome, with the object of interesting the general public, if the newspapers did not record such flights, and though in the very early days of aviation some newspapers adopted an unfriendly att.i.tude towards the possibilities of practical aviation, nearly all the Press has since come to recognize the aeroplane as a valuable means of national defence.

Right from the start the Daily Mail foresaw the importance of promoting the new science of flight by the award of prizes, and its public-spirited enterprise has done much to break up the prevailing apathy towards aviation among the British nation.

If these three great events had been mere spectacles and nothing else--such as, for instance, that great horse-race known as "The Derby"--this chapter would never have been written. But they are most worthy of record because all three have marked clearly-defined stepping-stones in the progress of flight; they have proved conclusively that aviation is practicable, and that its ultimate entry into the busy life of the world is no more than a matter of perfecting details.

The first L10,000 prize was offered in November, 1906, for a flight by aeroplane from London to Manchester in twenty-four hours, with not more than two stoppages en route. In 1910 two compet.i.tors entered the lists for the flight; one, an Englishman, Mr. Claude Grahame-White; the other, a Frenchman, M. Paulhan.

Mr. Grahame-White made the first attempt, and he flew remarkably well too, but he was forced to descend at Lichfield--about 113 miles on the journey--owing to the high and gusty winds which prevailed in the Trent valley. The plucky pilot intended to continue the flight early the next morning, but during the night his biplane was blown over in a gale while it stood in a field, and it was so badly damaged that the machine had to be sent back to London to be repaired.

This took so long that his French rival, M. Paulhan, was able to complete his plans and start from Hendon, on 27th April. So rapidly had Paulhan's machine been transported from Dover, and "a.s.sembled" at Hendon, that Mr. White, whose biplane was standing ready at Wormwood Scrubbs, was taken by surprise when he heard that his rival had started on the journey and "stolen a march on him", so to speak. Nothing daunted, however, the plucky British aviator had his machine brought out, and he went in pursuit of Paulhan late in the afternoon. When darkness set in Mr. White had reached Roade, but the French pilot was several miles ahead.

Now came one of the most thrilling feats in the history of aviation. Mr.

White knew that his only chance of catching Paulhan was to make a flight in the darkness, and though this was extremely hazardous he arose from a small field in the early morning, some hours before daybreak arrived, and flew to the north. His friends had planned ingenious devices to guide him on his way: thus it was proposed to send fast motor-cars, bearing very powerful lights, along the route, and huge flares were lighted on the railway; but the airman kept to his course chiefly by the help of the lights from the railway stations.

Over hill and valley, forest and meadow, sleeping town and slumbering village, the airman flew, and when dawn arrived he had nearly overhauled his rival, who, in complete ignorance of Mr. White's daring pursuit, had not yet started.

But now came another piece of very bad luck for the British aviator. At daybreak a strong wind arose, and Mr. White's machine was tossed about like a mere play-ball, so that he was compelled to land. Paulhan, however, who was a pilot with far more experience, was able to overcome the treacherous air gusts, and he flew on to Manchester, arriving there in the early morning.

Undoubtedly the better pilot won, and he had a truly magnificent reception in Manchester and London, and on his return to France. But this historic contest laid the foundation of Mr. Grahame-White's great reputation as an aviator, and, as we all know, his fame has since become world-wide.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII. Three Historic Flights (Cont.)

About a month after Paulhan had won the "London to Manchester" race, the world of aviation, and most of the general public too, were astonished to read the announcement of another enormous prize. This time a much harder task was set, for the conditions of the contest stated that a circuit of Britain had to be made, covering a distance of about 1000 miles in one week, with eleven compulsory stops at fixed controls.

This prize was offered on 22nd May, 1910, and in the following year seventeen compet.i.tors entered the lists. It says much for the progress of aviation at this time, when we read that, only a year before, it was difficult to find but two pilots to compete in the much easier race described in the last chapter. Much of this progress was undoubtedly due to the immense enthusiasm aroused by the success of Paulhan in the "London to Manchester" race.

We will not describe fully the second race, because, though it was of immense importance at the time, it has long since become a mere episode.

Rarely has Britain been in such great excitement as during that week in July, 1911.

Engine troubles, breakdowns, and other causes soon reduced the seventeen compet.i.tors to two only: Lieutenant Conneau, of the French Navy-who flew under the name of M. Beaumont--and M. Vedrines. Neck to neck they flew--if we may be allowed this horse-racing expression--over all sorts of country, which was quite unknown to them.

Victory ultimately rested with Lieutenant Conneau, who, on 26th July, 1911, pa.s.sed the winning-post at Brooklands after having completed the course in the magnificent time of twenty-two hours, twenty-eight minutes, averaging about 45 miles an hour for the whole journey. M.

Vedrines, though defeated, made a most plucky fight. Conneau's success was due largely to his ability to keep to the course--on two or three occasions Vedrines lost his way--and doubtless his naval training in map-reading and observation gave him the advantage over his rival.

The third historic flight was made by Mr. Harry Hawker, in August, 1913.

This was an attempt to win a prize of L5000 offered by the proprietors of the Daily Mail for a flight round the British coasts. The route was from Cowes, in the Isle of Wight, along the southern and eastern coasts to Aberdeen and Cromarty, thence through the Caledonian Ca.n.a.l to Oban, then on to Dublin, thence to Falmouth, and along the south coast to Southampton Water.

Two important conditions of the contest were that the flight was to be made in an all-British aeroplane, fitted with a British engine. Hitherto our aeroplane constructors and engine companies were behind their rivals across the Channel in the building of air-craft and aerial engines, and this country freely acknowledged the merits and enterprise of French aviators. Though in the European War it was afterwards proved that the British airman and constructor were the equals if not the superiors of any in the world, at the date of this contest they were behind in many respects.

As these conditions precluded the use of the famous Gnome engine, which had won so many contests, and indeed the employment of any engine made abroad, the compet.i.tors were reduced to two aviation firms; and as one or these ultimately withdrew from the contest the Sopwith Aviation Company of Kingston-on-Thames and Brooklands entered a machine.

Mr. T. Sopwith chose for his pilot a young Australian airman, Mr. Harry Hawker. This skilful airman came with three other Australians to this country to seek his fortune about three years before. He was pa.s.sionately devoted to mechanics, and, though he had had no opportunity of flying in his native country, he had been intensely interested in the progress of aviation in France and Britain, and the four friends set out on their long journey to seek work in aeroplane factories.

All four succeeded, but by far the most successful was Harry Hawker.

Early in 1913 Mr. Sopwith was looking out for a pilot, and he engaged Hawker, whom he had seen during some good flying at Brooklands.

In a month or two he was engaged in record breaking, and in June, 1913, he tried to set up a new British height record. In his first attempt he rose to 11,300 feet; but as the carburettor of the engine froze, and as the pilot himself was in grave danger of frost-bite, he descended.

About a fortnight later he rose 12,300 feet above sea-level, and shortly afterwards he performed an even more difficult test, by climbing with three pa.s.sengers to an alt.i.tude of 8500 feet.

With such achievements to his name it was not in the least surprising that Mr. Sopwith's choice of a pilot for the water-plane race rested on Hawker. His first attempt was made on 16th August, when he flew from Southampton Water to Yarmouth--a distance of about 240 miles--in 240 minutes. The writer, who was spending a holiday at Lowestoft, watched Mr. Hawker go by, and his machine was plainly visible to an enormous crowd which had lined the beach.

To everyone's regret the pilot was affected with a slight sunstroke when he reached Yarmouth, and another Australian airman, Mr. Sidney Pickles, was summoned to take his place. This was quite within the rules of the contest, the object of which was to test the merits of a British machine and engine rather than the endurance and skill of a particular pilot.

During the night a strong wind arose, and next morning, when Mr. Pickles attempted to resume the flight, the sea was too rough for a start to be made, and the water-plane was beached at Gorleston.

Mr. Hawker quickly recovered from his indisposition, and on Monday, 25th August, he, with a mechanic as pa.s.senger, left Cowes about five o'clock in the morning in his second attempt to make a circuit of Britain. The first control was at Ramsgate, and here he had to descend in order to fulfil the conditions of the contest.