CHAPTER VI
Count Ferdinand von Zeppelin, the famous cavalry general of Würtemburg, and hero of the Franco-Prussian war, after retiring from the army, organized, in 1898, a limited liability company for the purpose of developing a new type of dirigible which he had long contemplated. It was to be a vessel far larger and swifter than any the world had yet seen. In the summer of 1900, after two years of industrious experimental research and active construction, he brought forth from his floating laboratory on Lake Constance, near Manzell, the first of those wonderful air ships which have aroused such expectation and enthusiasm in Germany. In outward appearance and in its chief features of design it typified the whole series of motor balloons thus far developed and navigated by that illustrious inventor. Many valuable improvements were added, as a result of trial and the advance of the collateral sciences; but the fundamental plans seem to have proved as practical as they were bold and original. One by one were surmounted the greatest obstacles, physical, financial and finally political; for the Prussian Ministry did not favor his project at first, and many aëronautical adepts were adverse to it. Those huge ships faced the fury of many a tempest; their dauntless builder endured the storm of hostile criticism; but in the end, builder and ships alike won the plaudits of a proud empire and of an astonished world.
Outwardly a Zeppelin balloon may be described as a long cylinder with ogival ends and a V-shaped keel running the length of its bottom. From afar the cylinder and pointed ends appear circular in cross section, but they are sixteen-sided. About one-third the distance from either end of the great ship a small boat is suspended from the hull so closely that at those places the keel is omitted to make room. These two boats are rigidly connected with the hull and support it when the vessel rests on, or is towed along the water. Within them are the crew and petroleum engines, while above them and outward on each side of the hull, and fastened to it by outriggers, are two pairs of screw propellers, so placed as to exert their united thrust along the line of resistance. In some cases the crew can walk through the V-shaped keel from one boat to another, the passageway being illuminated here and there, by transparent covering, or windows of celluloid, along the sides and floor. Again an observer may climb up through the hull and take observations of the sky from above. Telephones, electric bells, and speaking tubes serve to transmit intelligence from one part of the vessel to another.
The frame of the hull is formed of sixteen longitudinal beams, or girders, of trellised metal work running from prow to stern and riveted at regular intervals to cross bridges of similar trellised metal work, each cross bridge being a sixteen-sided wheel with trellised rims strengthened by radial rods running inward to a central flange of sheet aluminum. Thus the body of the vessel is divided into many compartments, each bounded by two wheels, and the surrounding longitudinal beams. Each compartment contains a hydrogen balloon, or sac, which fairly fills it and exerts a lift against the longitudinal beams and against a netting formed of ramie cords stretched from wheel to wheel, diagonally between beams at their inner corners. Similarly the outward corners of the beams are joined by strong diagonal wires for the purpose of rigidity, and the whole external frame is covered with a heavy fabric which forms the outer skin, or wall of the hull. Between this skin and the hydrogen bags are air spaces, as also between bag and bag. Thus the whole vessel is buoyed up by numerous thin hydrogen sacs, protected by the frame and outer skin from the direct sun, from foul weather, and from external shocks. The gas bags are also separated from each other by the bridge work and flanges of aluminum.
PLATE X.
GROSS III.
ZEPPELIN AIRSHIP STRUCTURE.
Obviously there is a material advantage in having many gas cells and two propelling plants; for if one fails it may not prevent navigation. The tandem arrangement of bags separated by the wheel-like cross bridges also allows the balloon to rear any amount without material displacement of the gas, or dangerous increase of pressure; for it must be remembered that a single hydrogen sac extending the full length of an up-ended balloon of such length, would have an outward pressure of about thirty pounds per square foot greater at the top than at the bottom. The poise of the vessel is maintained by shifting weights, and also by use of fins, or rudders, when driving through the air; but those arrangements vary in the different machines. So much for the general features of these wonderful ships, of which four were built during the decade from 1898 to 1908, and several more since that period.
The construction and trial of Count Zeppelin’s first air ship proved a formidable task, requiring all his resources of money and mechanical skill. As it rivaled in size and fluid displacement a large ocean liner, it could not well be launched and landed, except on the water. It was therefore housed in a wooden shed 472 feet long, floating on 95 pontoons, and so anchored as to swing freely with the wind and assume its direction. This shed, as well as the ship, was very costly, and in an unfortunate hour was torn from its moorings by a tempest, which did other damage entailing great expense and time for repairs. The inventor’s resources were becoming strained; for, as reported, the shed cost $50,000, while the first balloon cost more than twice that sum.
Finally, the first launching was officially set for June 30, 1900. The lake was thronged with people massed along the shores, and dotting its surface with every kind of craft, from the fisherman’s primitive boat to the handsomest private yacht, or launch. All day the expectant multitude waited, only to learn at dusk, that the inflation was not completed. Next day they tarried again till evening, and merely saw the raft on which the balloon rested, towed out of the floating house. On the third day, July 2d, those who waited were rewarded with an interesting spectacle. The long stiff air ship was drawn forth from its shed, like a ram rod from a gun. Count Zeppelin, with two men, occupied the front boat, while two others took the rear one. After careful adjustment the vessel was liberated, at eight o’clock, rose slowly and advanced over the water, accompanied by the droning of its propellers and the shouts of the delighted spectators, who realized that they might be witnessing the commencement of a new epoch in aërial navigation. But the voyage was not an unqualified success. The controlling mechanism became deranged, the framework was bent, and the propellers could not be worked properly. A gentle wind was blowing and the vessel drifted with it, having an independent speed of only thirteen feet per second, at best. At eight-twenty she reached Immenstadt and landed on the water, having voyaged three and one half miles, and having attained a height of thirteen hundred feet on a part of the journey.
At that date the Zeppelin I was by far the largest and most elaborate air ship ever constructed. Her hull measured 416 feet long, 38 feet across, cubed nearly 400,000 feet, weighed 9 tons, and had a displacement of 10 tons. The trellised frame was made of aluminum, and its body comprised seventeen compartments, of which fifteen were 26 feet long, and the other two 13 feet long. The outer cover was of linen treated with pegamoid and tightly stretched. The hydrogen sacs were of thin fabric. The propulsion was effected by two benzine motors, one in either boat, which together developed 32 horse power, each driving, by means of bevel gears and shafting, a pair of four-blade propellers 3.77 feet in diameter, at 1,100 revolutions per minute. Steering sidewise was effected by means of vertical rudders, while the trim was controlled by horizontal rudders at either side of the vessel, as also by means of a sliding weight which could be drawn fore and aft by means of a winch. Naturally some of these details were superseded ere long by better devices suggested by subsequent experience.
On October 17, 1900, Zeppelin I made her second voyage, and with much better result. Starting from the same balloon house at Manzell, at four-forty-five, she promptly rose a thousand feet, and maneuvered in a seven-mile wind, steering in great curves at the will of the pilot. At times the speed was nearly twenty miles an hour, as determined by continuous observations of the balloon’s position, taken from three points of a triangle, together with the velocity of the wind on its course, duly recorded by an anemometer. Finally a landing on the water was made at six o’clock, without mishap.
This last demonstration left the Count triumphant in other respects, but without sufficient funds to bring his invention into practical use. He must, therefore, look for additional money for the proper continuation of his great work. The financial task thus ensuing occupied much of his time during the next five years, but he finally secured capital enough to continue his experiments and to build a second airship. This was completed and ready for trial in the latter part of 1905.
Zeppelin II resembled its predecessor in appearance, but embodied many improvements suggested by the former trials. Its hull was 414 feet long, 38 feet in diameter, held 367,000 cubic feet of hydrogen in its sixteen gas bags, and weighed with all appliances and cargo, about nine tons. It was, therefore, about ten per cent smaller than its predecessor; but at the same time it was far better powered than the earlier one, and more effectively controlled. Each boat carried an 85-horse-power Daimler benzine motor, actuating two enlarged propellers. Ample steering surfaces, operated by the helmsman in the front boat, served to turn the great ship about either of three axes and, at the same time, to displace her bodily up and down in the air, either by direct lift or by canting her hull so that her screw thrust and the pressure on her sides would produce the desired translation.
Two trials of Zeppelin’s second air ship were made on the Borden-See, one on November 30, 1906, the other on January 17, 1907; but both met with serious accident. In the first trial the balloon was towed by a motor boat some distance, then cut loose in the wind, which was carrying it forward faster than the boat. But it soon became unmanageable and plunged into the water, suffering considerable damage. In the second trial it flew for a short time at a speed of thirty feet per second, when the engines were developing 36 horse power. Some maneuvering was effected in a strong wind, but presently the propellers stopped, the vessel dropped to the shore and was anchored on the ground. During the night it was so badly damaged by the wind that Count Zeppelin ordered it to be taken to pieces to furnish material for further construction.
The loss of two mammoth air ships after such brief trial seemed enough to appall even a sturdy general of the Prussian army; but Count Zeppelin was too resolute to waste time in futile tears and hopeless dejection. Strong natures are usually stimulated by disaster, and aroused to fuller energy, to grimmer determination, if not to desperate hazard. However, not desperation, but buoyant hope and high expectation, based on ample experience, were now his ruling motive. Had not his ship attained thirty feet per second with less than one fourth her motive power? The year began with disaster indeed, but he intended it to terminate in glorious victory. And such, indeed, was the happy issue.
October, 1907, witnessed the launching of Zeppelin III. She had the same length as her immediate predecessor, but she was a luckier vessel and better powered. On her official trial she voyaged at the height of half a mile, carrying eleven persons sixty-seven miles in two hours and seventeen minutes, or at more than twenty-nine miles per hour. This was a record velocity exceeding that of the best military balloon in France. At times she attained a velocity of fifty feet per second, thus considerably outspeeding the swiftest ocean liner. Moreover, her stability and steering qualities were excellent. With pardonable elation, therefore, the illustrious inventor could report to the Minister of War the complete success of his experiments. And with good reason the German government now granted financial aid to test more fully the merits of the rigid system of construction.
With this assistance the industrious aëronaut erected a new floating house on the Borden-See at Friedrichshafen, and began the construction of a still larger air ship embodying further improvements in various details. Zeppelin IV was 446 feet long, 42.5 in diameter, held 460,000 cubic feet of hydrogen in her sixteen compartments, and had a total buoyancy of sixteen tons. She had a surplus buoyancy of over two tons, carried a crew of 18 men, and had an estimated range of action of eighteen hundred miles. When drawn from her shed in the autumn of 1907, her great buoyant hull resting lightly on the water supported by her two floating cars, she had all the appearance of a royal passenger express ready for important service. In general features the vessel was like her three predecessors, but in the center of the keel, with transparent floors and windowed sides, was a special stateroom designed for passengers only. This seemed very suggestive, if not prophetic, of the future trend of aërial navigation. Moreover, the mechanism of propulsion and control were increased in power and effectiveness. In each boat-like car was a 110-horse-power Daimler benzine engine, actuating a pair of three-blade propellers about 15 feet in diameter. A large vertical rudder, mounted on the extreme end of the stern, and supplemented by a pair of smaller vertical rudders at either side of the stern, served to steer the vessel right and left. For steering up and down, as also for exerting a direct lift up or down, four superposed planes like a Venetian blind were placed at either side of the hull fore and aft, at about the same level as the propellers. In addition the hull was provided, like a feathered arrow, with fixed fin-like planes at the stern, both vertical and horizontal, for securing steadiness of flight.
Several trials of this leviathan were made preliminary to her official government test which, if satisfactory, assured her purchase by the German government for $500,000. At the builder’s suggestion this test should include a voyage of 24 hours duration, a safe descent on land or water, an ascent to 4,000 feet, and the fulfillment of various secret requirements. In the autumn of 1907 a successful voyage of eight hours was easily accomplished. In the early part of the next summer, 1908, a series of voyages were made which aroused intense interest throughout the civilized world. On June 13th the great ship, starting from her harbor at Friedrichshafen, sailed over the Alps to Lucerne, steering in among the mountains; here buffeted by eddies, and cross currents, there stemming such stiff head winds that her shadow could hardly creep forward over the ground, again driving through a dark lowering hailstorm which pelted with ominous thunder on her resounding hull; but at length reaching Lucerne safely, then returning in triumph to her harbor at Friedrichshafen. For twelve hours the stanch vessel endured the elements, by no means hospitable, and in that period voyaged 270 miles at an average speed of 22 miles an hour. It was a record journey and a triumph in the art.
The following picturesque account of a flight in Count von Zeppelin’s gigantic air ship, written by Emil Sandt, appeared in the Scientific American Supplement of August 15, 1908:
“Early in the morning Professor Hergesell, Freiherr von Bassus, Dr. Stalberg, Herr Uhland, and myself set out in Count Zeppelin’s launch for the shed in which the great air ship is housed. When we arrived everything was in readiness for us. Count Zeppelin is proud of the fact that his colossal craft can be drawn in and out of the shed with very little help. In seven minutes the huge gas bag had emerged, and a few minutes later we were floating up to the sky. I took my station in the central car or cabin, a comfortable room flooded with the yellow light that filters through the translucent balloon fabric of which the walls, the floor and the ceiling are constituted. Comfortable seats suspended from fine chains provide a seating capacity for a dozen passengers.
“For a great portion of their length the walls are provided with celluloid panes. The floor is also transparent wherever it is not used as a footway. Seated comfortably in the central car, I could look down through my knees and see the green earth, water, people, cities and castles far below. I could also see birds circling around and fluttering anxiously, evidently frightened by the strange giant of the air.
“We crossed over to the Ueberlinger See, traversed the intermediate neck of land, and turned into the valley of the Rhine at Konstanz. Here I left the central car and walked toward the rear car along the keelway, which is flanked with balloon cloth, and which is closed at the end of the keelway by a celluloid door. I opened the door and stepped out on the narrow aluminum gangway, which runs down sharply to the rear car. The gangway has no protecting handrail. It is merely ribbed to give a better foothold. That apparently flimsy structure bridges a chasm of twenty feet between the end of the keelway and the car. From below, the passage from the keelway and the car must seem perilous indeed, but up in the air ship itself no fear is felt. I stood on this narrow bridge and gazed on the landscape. To the north I could see the Hohendtwiel. Behind us lay the Swabian See glistening in the morning’s sun. In the southeast I saw Thurgau wrapped in violet light. On the horizon the lofty peak of the Saentis rose broad and jagged, capped with ice and snow. Below us writhed the Rhine. I looked across at the propellers. Count von Zeppelin had signaled full speed ahead. The giant air ship trembled. The propellers seemed like disks, revolving with furious speed and yet as transparent as a locust’s wings. They gave out a note like that of a deep organ, so loud that the human voice, even when lifted to a shriek, could hardly be heard.
“I walked down to the rear car to obtain a better view. Here the gigantic craft could be seen in a wonderful perspective. The sensation was strange. The giant ship obediently sank and rose. Obediently moved to the right or to the left, slavishly following the slightest pressure of the human hand. Sometimes its angle was such that the entire fabric seemed inclined like a kite. At times the forward car lay below us; at times we had to look up at it.
“As we neared the splendid falls of the Rhine at Schaffhausen, the Count brought the air ship down, in order to ascertain whether the eddies occasioned by the waterfall would have any effect.
“We turned into the Reusstal, but were buffeted by the wind all the way up the valley. To the south the sharp jutting peak of Mount Pilatus hove in sight. Soon Lucerne appeared, a jewel among cities. The lake itself shimmered brightly where it was struck by the sun; its darker portions lay like an emerald, held in a setting of heliotrope. It was like a melody in colors. Below us in Lucerne itself there was a hubbub and a great jubilation. The streets were crowded with gayly clad people. The roads were a-swarm. Zeppelin guided his air ship down, and allowed it to glide full speed over the city at the height of a church steeple.
“We traveled over the Vierwaldstaetter See, and crossed to Knessnacht, to Zug Lake, and up northward to Zug itself. Then came the most difficult task which Professor Hergesell had assigned to the air ship. The craft was to carry us straight across to Lake Zurich, through a narrow pass where it would be caught in a veritable cyclone. The motors groaned and rattled. The propellers howled a deep groaning song. The air ship did all that it could. The wind was dead against us, traveling with a velocity of nearly thirty-one miles an hour. The Count could easily have arisen and escaped the fury of the blast, but it was his purpose not to avoid obstacles, but to court them. Whenever the great air ship showed signs of swerving, it was brought back to its course. Far below us in the valley the sharply marked shadow of the air ship, crawling slowly from tree to tree, showed us how hard it was struggling. There were minutes when it seemed as if we stood stock still, despite the infernal music of the propellers. Gradually the nose of the craft was thrust forward; once more the air ship mastered the winds. We had forced our way through the pass, and were dashing on at full speed. The vast shadow below us traveled with the velocity of a bird over the mountain, valleys, cliffs and rocky points, over railway embankments and road, over water and land.”
Two attempts were made in July, 1908, to complete the government test; but they proved abortive, and in the second one the hull was damaged by the wind pushing it sidewise against the shed, as it was being towed out by motor boat. This accident caused a delay of two weeks, much to the disappointment of the expectant populace. As a consequence Zeppelin resolved to begin the next attempt unheralded. He had the repairs made quickly and all was ready early in August.
On Tuesday, August 4th, at six forty-five in the morning, the great twenty-four hour test for the government began, without previous announcement, but with fairest prospect of success. Sailing from Friedrichshafen, Zeppelin purposed to follow the Rhine as far down as Mayence, then return in a direct line to his starting point. All went splendidly at first. He passed Constance at seven o’clock in the morning, Basle at nine-thirty, Strassburg about noon, then with slower speed passed Mannheim at two-fifty and Darmstadt at four-thirty. At about six o’clock a descent was made at Oppenheim, eleven and a quarter hours after starting. The air ship had voyaged 270 miles at the average speed of 22 miles an hour. A wonderful demonstration it was for the inhabitants of that historic valley, and a glorious tour for the brave old sailor and his crew. Resuming the voyage, Mayence, the turning point, was reached at eleven o’clock at night, and the vessel was headed for home. But now the engines, being overworked, could not maintain the usual speed, which therefore was lowered to twelve miles an hour. Next morning at eight o’clock, after Stuttgart had been passed, a descent had to be made at the village of Echterdingen, to adjust and overhaul the machinery. Ninety-five miles of the return had been made in nine hours.
It was most unfortunate that a landing had to be made without a harbor, particularly as a gale was in pursuit of the vessel. Ere long she was torn from her moorings by a squall, carried into the air, and set on fire, probably by an electric discharge. Immediately the great hull was enveloped in flame and completely destroyed, leaving a tangled network of distorted framing. It was a dismal termination to the greatest motor balloon voyage in the world’s history up to that date; for the vessel had been in the air continuously for twenty and three-fourths hours and had traveled 378 miles.
The hardy and venerable hero of so many voyages and long continued experiments quite broke down at the sight of his grandest vessel in ruin. But an unlooked for and a sudden turn of events brought him the greatest triumph in his darkest hour. While the world expressed its grief and sympathy his loyal countrymen hastened to his relief in an admirable burst of enthusiasm. Within twenty-four hours the government had made him a grant of $125,000, and subscriptions offered in all parts of Germany brought the sum to over $500,000. By October, 1908, the total gift amounted to $1,500,000, which was paid to the Zeppelin Air Ship Company, formed for developing and building air ships on a large scale. A tract of 300 acres was secured at Friedrichshafen for an air ship factory. Here was erected the necessary shops, hydrogen plant, balloon harbor, and everything necessary to enable the company to construct several mammoth air ships each year. To these new grounds the Count’s former interests were gradually conveyed, while his old station, with its air ship dock on Lake Constance, was converted into a military post by the German government.
After the destruction of Zeppelin IV, its predecessor, the Count’s third air ship, was again prepared for service and for new triumphs. Her hull was lengthened by the addition of a cylindrical section having the length of one compartment, or about 26 feet. This alteration gave a considerable increase of net buoyancy with but slight increase of resistance. The dimensions now were: length 446 feet, diameter 38 feet, volume 423,768 cubic feet. The gas was contained in sixteen sacs, twelve in the cylindrical part and two at each end. The ship was propelled by two 85-horse-power engines, supplied with sufficient gasoline for a forty-one hour voyage at 25 miles per hour. The loss of gas by leakage was less by weight than the loss of fuel. The famous old cruiser, thus remodeled, was operated in the autumn of 1908 with her usual precision and grace; thus winning new distinction and renown. On one occasion she had as passengers the Crown Prince and the Kaiser’s brother, Prince Henry. The Emperor himself witnessed the demonstration, and decorated the Count, referring to him as “the greatest German of the century.” Soon afterward the ship was taken over by the government and assigned to the Prussian Battalion of Aëronauts, being christened Zeppelin I, since it was the first vessel of the kind taken into the military service.
Beginning with March 9, 1909, the military Zeppelin I was kept in active operation by the officers, and subjected to a wide variety of tests day by day. She was driven through rain and snowstorms, at all elevations up to a mile; she was anchored over land and over water, sometimes exposed for hours to a gale; she was steered in and out of her shed without the aid of her floating raft; she was sent on long trips, landed in the open country, by day and by night, and returned to harbor in safety. On one occasion she carried twenty-six passengers for over an hour and a half; again she made an endurance flight of thirteen hours. These maneuvers exhibited for the first time many capabilities of the ship, which all along had been stoutly affirmed by the inventor, but questioned by his critics.
On April 1, 1909, at four o’clock in the morning, the renowned Zeppelin I, with the Count as helmsman, started through the rain and wind on a voyage from Friedrichshafen to Munich, a hundred miles distant. The ship followed the railway as far as Ulm, guided by the station lights, which were kept burning all night to mark the route. As she approached Munich, at the appointed hour of nine next morning, her approach was announced from afar by the droning of her machinery and propellers, whereupon she was welcomed by loud music from many bands and the joyous ringing of all the bells in the city. The Prince Regent of Bavaria and a great throng of applauding citizens awaited her at the Teresenhohe park. Presently the swift cruiser approached, sailing over the steeple tops like a monstrous arrow. She halted before the Regent and dipped her bow three times, in graceful salute. Then she circled widely over the city, intending to land at the Oberwiesenfeld Parade Grounds, where part of the garrison troops were drawn up to receive her. But now, while so near the goal, she found it difficult to stem the increasing gale, and unsafe to land; so, with her bow pointed to the city, and propellers humming furiously, she gradually yielded to the storm, and drifted slowly backward toward the northeast.
The crucial hour had come for this stanch vessel and her audacious captain. They wrestled with the storm bravely and obstinately, but were beaten back steadily, with no port in view. The Count determined to weather the gale till it should spend its fury. He coolly sent an aërogram to Munich, saying that all was well and that he might reach the city late in the day. Observing a suitable place to land, near the village of Loiching, he pointed the prow of his ship downward, approached the earth and cast anchor. As the front car touched the ground it was grasped by the willing hands of thronging peasants and villagers. Presently the ship was taken in charge by a military relief party which the Count had hailed on the way, at Guendelkoven, and which had hastened to his aid in automobiles. Fifty soldiers, in regular shifts, that night held the bow of the vessel by a short leash. The anchor was firmly fastened, and additional ropes secured the bow to an unwheeled wagon loaded with stones. Thus all night long that mighty hull swayed to and fro in the passing storm, securely as a ship anchored at sea.
PLATE XI.
ZEPPELIN DIRIGIBLE RESTING ON THE WATER.
Photo E. Levick, N. Y.
ZEPPELIN DIRIGIBLE OVER ZÜRICH.
Photo E. Levick, N. Y.
Next morning the vessel was well replenished and headed for home, by way of Munich. The return was easy, for the wind had nearly reversed its course. Sailing at 32 miles an hour, with a quartering current, the stormbeaten ship soon reached Munich, where she was hailed with boundless enthusiasm. The Prince Regent entertained the Count during his sojourn of three hours, and decorated him with a gold medal. The ship then sailed for Friedrichshafen, with the full speed of the wind and of her propellers, at one time attaining 68 miles an hour. At nightfall she landed gently on the lake near Manzell, having weathered that tempestuous voyage without serious mishap.
This was a splendid proof of her stanchness; but a few days later she was put through other tests quite as severe, one being a night voyage of thirteen and a third hours, after a day of busy maneuvering. Following this came her still longer voyage, to Metz, where she was stationed as a frontier war vessel, and one of a considerable fleet contemplated by the German government.
In the meantime the energetic Count had started his fifth vessel, or military Zeppelin II, which now was nearing completion at the works of the Zeppelin Air Ship Construction Company. Her hull measured 446 feet in length, had a diameter of 42½ feet, and a volume of over half a million cubic feet. It also had a ladder running through one of the compartments to a platform on its top. Her motors of 220 horse power were taken uninjured from the wreck of the old Zeppelin IV at Echterdingen.
Without previous notice this new air ship set forth in a rain on the evening of May 29, 1909, headed toward Berlin, having on board the Count and seven other men. The purpose of the voyage was merely to exercise the ship; not to reach any definite goal; but by mistake she was reported on her way to Berlin, so that the Kaiser and his retinue waited some hours in vain to receive her. She voyaged bravely past Nuremberg and Leipsic to Bitterfeld, within 85 miles of the capital; then turned for home, the Count being unaware of the hopes he was disappointing. She returned successfully past Weimar and Stuttgart, then, near Goeppingen, descended on an open plain to take on gasoline from a neighboring petroleum refinery. As they were nearing the ground in a heavy rain, Count Zeppelin, who was acting as pilot, suddenly beheld, just before them, a half dead pear tree, with gaunt bare limbs. He gave a sharp order to starboard the helm; but his aëronaut, worn by too long service, thrust the helm to port, and the ship, impelled by a sudden gust, plunged head on against the tree. Her prow was wrecked, the frame and envelope being wrenched and torn for a distance of 100 feet.
The disaster seemed complete, but the dauntless Count was equal to the emergency. Twenty workmen were summoned from Friedrichshafen, sixty miles away, and sped to the rescue in automobiles. Electric wires from a nearby plant were stretched to furnish light for night repairs. The grounds were guarded by police and troops. The hull was detached from the tree; furnished with a temporary prow of young firs covered with balloon cloth; relieved of the forward motors and other impedimenta; furnished with fresh supplies; and, in exactly 28 hours from the mishap, was ready for the homeward voyage.
Slowly the crippled air ship sailed for Friedrichshafen, followed by the white-haired inventor in an automobile, unmoved and triumphant. A mighty shout ascended from the immense crowd of witnesses who had assembled from many quarters. All Germany was elated and jubilant. The great voyage and the prompt recovery from apparent disaster were a triumph of the whole people, for they had helped their hero to build this ship, and now participated in his victory over the spite of fortune and the elements. The Emperor telegraphed his congratulations, affirming his renewed confidence in the rigid system. Without further difficulty the vessel reached her port at an easy gait of ten miles an hour, thus completing a memorable voyage of seven hundred miles—one of the most glorious in the history of aëronautics.
If the citizens of Berlin were disappointed on this occasion, they had not long to wait for an aërial visit from the wizard of Friedrichshafen. On August 27th, at 4.45 a.m., his crew of five men sailed for Berlin via Nuremberg and Leipsic in his sixth air ship, his latest and largest, hurriedly finished for the Berlin voyage. It cubed 533,000 feet, and was driven by two Daimler engines of 150 nominal horse power each. In the afternoon they reached Nuremberg, circled over the city and landed for the night. Starting at 2.15 next morning they battled their way toward Leipsic against a strong wind, and at 6.45 p.m. landed for the night at Bitterfeld, where they arrived with a broken propeller. Here Count Zeppelin joined them. The next morning, after a good night’s rest and some repairs, they started at half past seven, in a dense fog, which, however, soon cleared. Finally they arrived at Berlin at half past twelve o’clock, as the people were returning from church. They circled over the city, to the delight of the multitude of spectators who thronged the house tops, parks, and thoroughfares, finally reaching the parade ground at Tegel. Here, after saluting the Emperor, the happy navigator maneuvered before the imperial tribune, greeted by the thunderous Hoch! Hoch! of a hundred thousand throats, and the ringing of all the church bells of the nation’s capital. The venerable Count was graciously received by the Emperor and members of the royal family. After spending the day at Berlin, the crew sailed for Friedrichshafen, about midnight, where, after various accidents and delays, they arrived in safety on September 6th.
In some respects this was Von Zeppelin’s crowning voyage of the year, though effected with a hurriedly finished vessel, not yet thoroughly adjusted. In mechanical execution this journey was equaled on many other occasions; for those great air ships were kept in active service and were everywhere hailed with enthusiasm. Both the Emperor and his people were proud to number those grand cruisers among the nation’s aërial warships. With general commendation, therefore, was received the announcement that four large Zeppelins were ordered for the use of the German navy. And not surprising was the announcement that other inventors were at work on designs for dirigibles of the rigid type. The projects of these new rivals, who began to appear in 1909, are set forth in the following account:[17]
“Count Zeppelin, who proved that air ships have a practical future, is no longer undisputed ‘king of the air.’ His rivals have taken his pattern, and improved it until soon air ships will be able to keep afloat for many days and in that case to cross oceans. A type of this modern ship is the first Schütte leviathan of wood and steel bracing, now nearly finished at Mannheim. It is expected to lift its twenty-four and one-fifth tons one and a quarter miles, because its beam is sixty feet as compared with the forty-four feet of the Zeppelin II. The car is one hundred and thirty feet long, with a cabin to accommodate thirty passengers. The new ship displaces nineteen thousand cubic meters, as against fifteen thousand in the Zeppelin III. It is expected to carry a cargo of five to six tons supported by ten spherical sustaining chambers, and eight ring-shape reservoir chambers connected by a secret apparatus. These eight reservoirs automatically receive all expanding gas that escapes from the sustaining chambers, thus conserving the entire supporting power. Four motors of combined five hundred and forty horse power will drive the propellers. Expert opinion predicts a speed of thirty-seven to forty-three miles an hour, three miles faster than the Gross III, at this writing the fastest air ship in the world. The whole enterprise is backed by Mr. Lanz, a rich manufacturer, who is president of the German Air-Navy League. A wooden-braced ship of equal equipment and size, designed by the Engineer Rettich, is well under way.
“Another rival of the Zeppelin, so far only projected, has been designed by the Engineers Radinger and Wagner, and is intended to be an advance in endurance. It should float for fifty days without replenishing gas. It is planned to have a rigid hull of hollow paper tubes and steel bracing and to be thirty per cent lighter than a Zeppelin built of aluminum, in any equal size. Drum-shape compartments are to hold the sustaining hydrogen, none of which is to be lost through expansion by the sun, as any surplus will be compressed by automatic pumps into the hollow tubes.[18] Having six thousand meters less displacement than the Zeppelin III, it will carry a reserve of seven hundred cubic meters of gas. Thirty-two per cent of its weight-carrying capacity will be given up to passengers, fuel, and baggage. Engines of two hundred and forty-two combined horse power are expected to develop a speed of forty to fifty miles an hour. Larger craft of the same type would, of course, carry much heavier cargoes and have higher speed. This type of ship, soon to be placed in the construction cradle, is expected to cross the ocean easily with fifteen passengers.”
In keeping with the lively growth of these great ships was the formation of the German aërial transportation company, with a capital stock of $750,000, reported in l’Aérophile for December, 1909. A line of large Zeppelins was to connect Baden-Baden, Mannheim, Munich, Leipsic, Cologne, Düsseldorf, Berlin, Dresden, Essen and Frankfort. The first two auto balloons of this line were to be the Zeppelin IV and Zeppelin V, to be put in commission in the spring of 1910. The Zeppelin IV was to cube 706,000 cubic feet, and carry twenty passengers in three cars, each containing a motor. The Zeppelin V was to be constructed of a remarkably light rigid alloy “electrometal,” and was to carry at least thirty passengers. This enterprise certainly formed an appropriate termination to the first decade of practical auto ballooning.
The projected passenger line of the German Air Ship Society was inaugurated the following summer with serene audacity and fairy-like magnificence. The first ship employed, Zeppelin VII, was a huge vessel of unusual power, speed and elegance of appointment. She was 485 feet long by 46 in diameter, cubed 690,000 feet, and carried three engines totaling 420 horse power and competent to drive her 35 miles per hour. Midway beneath her hull and rigidly joined to it, was a passenger car thirty-five feet long, having a vestibule at one end, a lavatory at the other, and five compartments between them, with seats for twenty persons. Beyond the ends of the car were open decks leading to the boats fore and aft containing the machinery.
At three o’clock on the morning of June 22, 1910, with Count Zeppelin in charge, and a dozen passengers aboard, this majestic auto balloon sailed from Friedrichshafen up the Rhine Valley for Düsseldorf, three hundred miles, and after a prosperous voyage of nine hours, made an easy landing. Next morning at eight thirty she voyaged from Düsseldorf to Dortmund, thirty-seven miles north, sailing at a general height of one thousand feet, over some of the finest industrial parts of Germany. Then she returned to Düsseldorf with her delighted passengers who were all enthusiasm for the new mode of travel so auspiciously begun. Of the thirty-two persons aboard, the majority were regular public passengers who had paid fifty dollars each for the trip, several of them tourists from various countries, and ten of them women.
The maiden voyage of this first air liner was a marvel and dream of delight to the fortunate few traveling in such celestial style. The comforts and splendors of the service quite surpassed their expectations. Seated in that fairy car of aluminum framing lined with mahogany and rosewood inlaid with pearl, they looked from spacious windows over the beautiful German landscape gliding beneath them, and enjoyed visions fit for itinerating gods. Along the shining waters of the Rhine, and over its castellated crags, and among its rolling hills terraced with luxuriant vineyards, now lapped in the glory of summer, and above stately cities murmuring with multitudinous life, they sailed in serenest comfort and security, marveling at their own strange career through the sky, and equally regarded with wonder by all the inhabitants below, not to say written and read about by millions in all parts of the civilized world. The delights of land and sea travel were happily mingled, without their inconvenience. Neither dust nor smoke was here, nor rattle of iron rails, nor lurching and rolling from heavy seas. Quite otherwise. The senses were charmed with the fanning of fragrant winds forever and uniformly blowing, with the melodious drone of the swift propeller wheels, with the green glories of the earth and purple splendors of the sky. When the tourist was sated with these he could turn to his book; when tired of his chair he could stroll to and fro in the car on a soft carpet, or along the trellised deck beyond; when his appetite called, he could answer with the choicest food and wine; for every convenience of an ample buffet was available. It was all so enchanting if only practical.
Encouraged by these trials the company announced, and hoped to make, voyages at frequent intervals. But in this they promptly encountered difficulties. On June 28th the Deutschland started from Düsseldorf on a four-hour cruise, with nearly a score of passengers, mostly newspaper representatives. But she remained in the air longer than intended. Passing Solingen she tried to reach Eberfeld, but ineffectually; nor could she find a landing place. Toward five o’clock she was caught in a great rising wind and carried one mile aloft like a passive balloon in a vortex or thunderhead. Here much gas was lost by expansion, and presently, as the ship emerged from a snow cloud in the upper vortex, with cooled gas and hull laden with precipitation, she descended at a terrible velocity. With crippled motive power, the vessel could not be supported dynamically by the impact of the air against her sustaining planes and against her canted hull, for lack of forward speed. At length with a terrific crash she struck upon the forest of Teutoberg, 80 miles from Dusseldorf, a great tree trunk piercing the rear boat and projecting among the terrified crew. Here the vessel lodged with her stern and controlling gear badly wrecked, and here she was abandoned by the passengers, with her huge hull resting on the branches forty feet from earth. Ere long she was retrieved by a company of infantry who sawed down the trees, dismantled the ship, and returned the parts on railway trucks to Friedrichshafen, to be used in building another vessel.
Thus in both civil and military aëronautics the pioneers had to endure many losses and grievous hardships; but the direst disasters often mark the way to the greatest victories.