FIRST SECTION REVIEW OF PROGRESS PRIOR TO THE FIRST MILITARY TESTS OF AEROPLANES
I. Dawn of flight—Encouragement in Europe and America—England’s lost opportunities—The pioneers.
In order to pave the way for a description of what the war aeroplane, as we know it to-day, can accomplish, it is necessary to trace—although only briefly—the development of the heavier-than-air machine during recent years.
One fact immediately claims the attention of any student of this question. He sees that England might to-day, had she not shown initial apathy, be the first nation in the world in the fostering, and development, of aerial navigation.
Instead of holding such a proud position, however—and any nation may well be proud of having encouraged this new art—we suffer for having displayed a lack of interest in the conquest of the air, and for having given practically no help to far-seeing enthusiasts who first devoted themselves to the great problem.
There was no lack of pioneers in England; but, instead of giving them assistance, we discouraged them, with the result that such countries as France and Germany—wide awake to all forms of progress—have moved forward from one triumph to another.
More than a hundred years ago, for instance, England had an opportunity of displaying a definite interest in flying. Sir George Cayley, a remarkably clever engineer, turned his attention to the design of a flying machine, and actually produced, in the year 1809, plans of a machine which anticipated many constructional features of the monoplane as it is built to-day. Of course there was not, in those days, any such efficient motive power as is now supplied by the petrol engine; but Sir George Cayley lectured upon his ideas, and sought to interest people in them. Had his deductions been greeted with enthusiasm, it is not probable that any successful flying machine would immediately have been produced; the difficulty of finding a reliable propelling medium would have prevented this. But what a ready and encouraging acceptance of Sir George Cayley’s pioneer work would inevitably have done, would have been to turn the minds of other inventors towards the problem, and so pave the way for a series of discoveries, each more important than its predecessor.
The imaginations of those who might have exercised a great influence upon future progress were not fired, however; and the same remark applies to the efforts of those who followed in Sir George Cayley’s footsteps, and endeavoured to give his ideas more practical shape.
Stringfellow and Henson, for example, pored over the great engineer’s drawings, and produced working models of a flying machine. Their apparatus was crude, it is true; but this toil represented so many steps forward along the path of progress. It had been man’s ambition, for centuries, to fly; success could not be expected without infinite labour. Nothing definite came of the work of these pioneers, however. They had little encouragement; they were regarded as "cranks." The importance of the work they were engaged upon was not, indeed, realised.
Now, as a striking contrast, let us turn to the reception which early enthusiasts received in other countries. Let us take France, for example. Ader, an electrical engineer, devised, in 1896, a very ingenious, bat-like aeroplane. With it, having fitted a small steam-engine, he actually achieved a short flight—or, rather, a brief "hop" from the ground.
Instead of being greeted apathetically, or having his sanity doubted, Ader was promptly called to appear before the military authorities. They, after hearing his theories expounded, cheerfully voted him £20,000 in order that he might continue his experiments upon an adequate scale. Thus, even at this early stage, France revealed her keen interest in aerial navigation. Ader, lacking the petrol motor, could not carry his investigations much further. But the encouragement he received gave heart to other inventors. And so France went forward to success.
America offers another example of a sane, far-seeing policy. Professor Langley, an eminent scientist, was making a series of wonderfully interesting model aeroplanes at about the time Ader was experimenting in France. To further his work, the American authorities very promptly came forward with a grant of £10,000.
He, like Ader, was unable to carry his individual experiments to a successful issue; but further investigation, on the part of other workers, was greatly stimulated. It is interesting to note what position these two countries, which first encouraged flying, afterwards took when the aeroplane became a reality.
To America, in the work of the Wright brothers, has gone the honour of the first practical flights with a heavier-than-air machine, while France is to-day the premier nation in the world in the development of airmanship.
Thus it is legitimate to pass to a consideration of the first machines that flew, and consider their capabilities from the military point of view. The Wright biplane, naturally, is the first to attract attention, because it was as long ago as 1903 that these two quiet, determined Americans made their first successful flights. From a military aspect, this aeroplane had many drawbacks; and to cite them is instructive, seeing that, by this means, a reader will be better able to judge, later on, what vast strides towards perfection the aeroplane has already made.
The first Wright biplane would, indeed, just fly; that was all. Its pilot only dared to leave the ground when an absolutely dead calm prevailed; he feared the overturning influence of even the smallest gust of wind. His engine, being then a novelty as applied to the aeroplane, required the most patient "tuning up" before even a brief flight could be essayed; and, when it was aloft, the machine only passed through the air quite close to the ground.
Each flight had to be started by sliding the aeroplane forward along a rail; away from this rail, the machine was helpless. From the point of view of a military expert, indeed, this early machine could have been condemned upon several counts. It was unreliable. It could not fly in gusty winds; it was not portable; it could only take the air when launched from its rail.
But the true expert is far-seeing. He makes light of present imperfections if, in any idea, he can see future developments of undoubted importance. Such an expert, for instance, was the late Captain Ferber, of the French Army. He was the first military officer to whom the task fell of reporting, for his Government, upon the capabilities of a military aeroplane.
Representations were made by the Wright brothers to the French Government in the year 1905—two years after their first flights. They had improved their machine considerably; they were now ready to carry a passenger; and they wished to sell their secret. So Captain Ferber was instructed to go to America and investigate their claims.
The Wrights were anxious to sell their secret for a lump sum of money. They had begun their experiments in the humblest possible way, being small cycle-makers at Dayton, Ohio; and they were unable to protect, by patents, the machine which they had evolved by so vast an amount of patient work.
Thus they sought to enter into negotiations with some Government. They asked for a guarantee that their machine would be bought, for a certain price, were it to perform a series of stipulated flights. Their position was, as a matter of fact, a somewhat awkward one. Even a brief examination of their aeroplane, by an expert, would have revealed its principle.
In this quandary, they were led to approach the French Government. They chose France for a very good reason. Already, as has been indicated, this country was keenly alive to the possibilities of flying. The two brothers imagined, therefore, that they would be able to make their best bargain with the French Government.
The practical interest which the French authorities took in the question of military flying was evidenced by their action when they received a communication from the Wright brothers. Although reports of the Wrights’ experiments had been greeted, in Europe, with great scepticism, and there was reason, in view of the failure of other inventors, to doubt their claims, the French Government at once detailed Captain Ferber to make the long journey to Ohio, so as to go into the matter in a business-like way.
Captain Ferber, who was one of the first officers in France to become actively interested in airmanship, duly visited America, and interviewed the Wright brothers. They could not show him their machine. Had they done so, their secret would have been revealed. Regarding the flights which they had made, up to this time, Captain Ferber had to rely, for testimony, upon the statements of certain responsible men living in Dayton, who had witnessed them.
The position, so far as he was concerned, was rather an unsatisfactory one. It was like buying "a pig in a poke." But this officer, being a student of character, and an enthusiast regarding flight, saw what manner of men these two brothers were. He did not doubt their word, nor the statements of those who had seen them fly. So, when he returned to France, he recommended his Government to enter into negotiations with the Wrights, and buy their invention before any other nation took steps to secure it.
It was a tribute to his foresight that he should have done this; but, for the time being, the negotiations fell through. The Wrights, for one thing, wanted a very considerable sum of money; and there was difficulty, also, in arranging what the series of tests of their aeroplane should be. Thus it was that, after many communications had passed between the interested parties, the matter stood in abeyance.
In the meantime, however, other inventors were striving with the great problem. In France, in 1906, Santos-Dumont effected "hops" with a machine like an exaggerated box-kite; and this led the way to the remarkable achievements of two particularly clever brothers, Charles and Gabriel Voisin. They busied themselves with a biplane which, at the end of 1907, they asked Henry Farman, a well-known racing motorist, to test for them.
This led to the first famous flights of the Voisin machine at the military parade-ground of Issy-les-Moulineaux, outside Paris. France went wild with enthusiasm when this big, clumsy machine, piloted by the quick, agile Farman, succeeded in flying for a mile, and in making a turn while in the air.
The Voisin aeroplane needed to run along the ground for quite a hundred yards before it could gain sufficient support from the air to enable it to rise. When it did so, it was only just able to skim along above the ground. Compared with present-day aeroplanes, it was an unwieldly, unsatisfactory machine; and, to make matters worse, its motor became overheated after only a minute or so’s running.
As a machine for military purposes, it would have been useless. But it represented a definite stage in the progress of aeroplaning. From this machine of the Voisin brothers, which Farman first flew, developed the great school of biplane construction in France.
Also experimenting in France, at the same time as the Voisin brothers, was another great master of flight—M. Louis Blériot. His methods were original. He pinned his faith to the monoplane.
II. First practical flights—The Wright brothers; the Voisins; Farman—The cross-Channel flight.
Hastening our review, in order to reach matters of more definite interest from the military point of view, we find that, in 1908, the Wright brothers made aerial history by a series of magnificent flights which were, however, unfortunately marred by a tragedy.
Coming to France, Wilbur Wright flew for a couple of hours, without descending, at Le Mans. At about the same time, in America, Orville Wright was carrying out a series of demonstrations before the military authorities. He achieved remarkable success, particularly from a war point of view, by carrying a passenger in his machine for quite a long flight.
[Illustration: THE NIEUPORT MONOPLANE.
Photo, M. Branger.
This exceedingly interesting machine, which won the great French
Military Trials, is generally admitted to be one of the most efficient
flying machines in existence. A similar machine can be seen at work in
Hendon, where it is piloted by Mr. Grahame-White.]
Then, when taking up Lieutenant Selfridge, of the American army, he met with disaster. One of the propellers of his machine broke; it crashed to the ground from a height of about 100 feet. Lieutenant Selfridge was killed, being the first victim of the aeroplane, and Orville Wright broke his thigh. The accident, as may be imagined, cast a gloom over flying in America for a long time.
Longer flights by Henry Farman, on an improved Voisin biplane, were also to be noted in the year 1908; and thus the way is cleared for a description of the wonders achieved in 1909, when it may be said that the importance of the aeroplane, from a military point of view, was first demonstrated, and the attention of nations seriously directed towards the possibilities of this new "arm."
Early in the summer of 1909, after innumerable disappointments, and the breaking-up of many experimental machines, Blériot began to achieve success with a simply-constructed monoplane, driven by an equally simple three-cylinder petrol motor; and, at the same time, another French monoplane, the Antoinette, larger than Blériot’s, and having an eight-cylinder motor developing sixty horse-power, was also flying surprisingly well.
It was in July, 1909, that these two machines, representing a distinct type, when compared with the biplane, were brought down to the French coast at Calais with the intention of invading England by air, and winning a prize of £1000 offered by the Daily Mail. Piloting his small monoplane was M. Blériot himself, while the Antoinette was flown by Mr Hubert Latham, an airman already famed for his daring.
The method of Blériot’s arrival at Calais gave promise of the eventual utility of his machine from the military point of view. The two wings of his monoplane could easily be detached. They were then folded on either side of the body of the machine; and, thus dismantled, it could be placed for transport upon an ordinary railway truck.
In this fashion it reached Calais, greatly to the surprise of those who had, hitherto, only been familiar with the huge cases needed for the transport of biplanes. When taken from the railway van, the monoplane was tied with ropes behind a motor-car, and ran upon its own pneumatic-tyred wheels to the shelter prepared for it near the sand-hills of Les Baraques, a mile or so from Calais.
Blériot, as history records, won the £1000 prize by flying across the
Channel from France to England, just after the dawn on 25th July, 1909.
He landed near Dover Castle, after a flight of thirty-seven minutes.
Latham, unfortunate with his engine, made two attempts at the crossing,
but fell into the sea on both occasions.
Blériot’s feat made a deep impression upon all thoughtful men, and particularly upon the military authorities in France. If such a flight could be achieved with a small, crude machine, what might not be possible with a perfected apparatus? This, naturally, was the question which was asked.
In the next important demonstration of the possibilities of flight, which was made at the Rheims flying meeting, held in August, 1909, the French Government took a very active interest. They sent special representatives to this meeting—the first of its kind—to study the various types of flying machines which took part in the contests organised. As a further instance of the practical ideas already being displayed by military men in France, it may be mentioned that one of the competitors at this memorable flying meeting was the French officer whose work has previously been mentioned—Captain Ferber. He flew a Voisin biplane. It was not, unfortunately, very long after the Rheims meeting that this enthusiastic military airman met with his death at Boulogne, his loss being sincerely mourned by the French Government. His biplane overturned in a ditch, and he was killed by the heavy motor, which was torn from its bed, and fell upon him.
III. Aeroplanes at Rheims, 1909—Wright, Voisin, Farman, Blériot,
Antoinette—The Gnome engine—First military orders.
Seeing that the Rheims meeting of 1909 was the first occasion upon which a definite military inspection of aeroplanes was made, it should be interesting to describe the machines which were then available. Let us take, for example, the Wright biplane, of which we have previously spoken. This machine, as piloted at Rheims by Lefevre, Tissandier, and the Comte de Lambert, undoubtedly proved itself one of the best all-round machines then in existence.
The aeroplane represented the usual biplane form of building, having one sustaining plane fixed above another, the two being held apart by wooden struts, made taut by cross-wiring.
In front of these main-planes, upon outriggers, was a small double-plane elevator. At the rear of the main-planes, also carried upon outriggers, was a double-plane vertical rudder. The engine of the machine, set upon a wooden bed on the lower plane, actuated two wooden propellers, which—driven by chains—revolved in opposite directions behind the main-planes.
The pilot’s seat was on the front edge of the lower main-plane, and his control of the aeroplane, when in flight, was effected by means of two levers. One, moved forward and backward, actuated the elevating planes, and the other was given a dual motion. Moved to and fro, it operated the rudder of the aeroplane. Shifted from side to side, it warped the rear extremities of the main-planes, and so controlled the lateral stability of the aeroplane.
This wing-warping mechanism was, as a matter of fact, one of the salient features of the Wright biplane. The system is considered to be the most efficacious method of combating the effect of wind-gusts when an aeroplane is in flight.
In operation, this wing-warping device was simple. When the airman discovered that his machine was tilting over one side, owing to a sudden inequality in wind pressure, he quickly warped down the plane-ends on the side of the biplane that was depressed. The result was that there was increased wind-pressure under the plane-ends warped down, thus tending to force the machine back again upon an even keel.
The pilot who distinguished himself greatly at Rheims, when flying the Wright biplane, was Lefevre; but this daring airman was, unfortunately, killed shortly afterwards at Juvisy, when testing a new machine. At Rheims he circled in the air, and effected sharp turns, in an altogether remarkable way, demonstrating an absolutely complete control over his machine. So impressed were the representatives of the French Government by the performance of the Wright biplane, that they ordered several machines for military use. This represented their first definite order for aeroplanes for war purposes.
The chief drawback of the Wright biplane, in comparison with other machines flown at this time, was that it needed to make a start into the air from a launching rail, as has previously been mentioned.
The advantage of this system of starting—in which a weight, dropped from a derrick, gave the aeroplane its initial impetus along the rail—was that the machine could be fitted with a lower-powered engine.
But the disadvantages were obvious. Were an involuntary descent made at a point some distance away from the machine’s rail, it had to be carted back to the starting-point, or a rail and derrick brought to the place where it lay. However, the French Government did not regard any aeroplanes at this time as representing serviceable war weapons. They took the wise view that they were purely instructional craft, upon which military airmen could gain experience, and so fit themselves for the use of the more perfect machines which were likely to be evolved as time went on.
After describing the Wright biplane, we may now consider the Voisin machine. This aeroplane represented an improvement upon the type first piloted by Farman at Issy-les-Moulineaux. It had two main supporting planes, like those of the Wright biplane, fitted one above another. In front of the main-planes was a single horizontal elevating plane. At the rear of the biplane was a large cellular stabilising tail, made up of horizontal and vertical planes, and resembling a box-kite. In the centre of this cellular tail was the rudder, a single vertical plane.
Instead of adopting a wing-warping device, for maintaining lateral stability, the Voisin brothers fitted vertical planes, or curtains as they were called, between their main-planes. These, when the machine was in flight, resisted any sideway roll and, in conjunction with movements of the rudder, gave the aeroplane a certain amount of automatic stability.
The biplane rested upon a chassis made of hollow metal tubing. It had pneumatic-tyred bicycle wheels, mounted in connection with heavy springs, to resist the shock of landing after a flight. Small wheels bore the weight of the tail when the aeroplane was running along the ground.
An engine of sixty horse-power, fitted upon the lower plane, drove a two-bladed metal propeller, placed behind the main-planes. The pilot, seated midway between the planes, operated a wheel like that of a motor-car. He pushed it away from him, or drew it back, to operate the elevating plane, and turned it sideways to actuate the rudder.
This machine had the advantage over the Wright biplane that it was not dependent upon a starting rail. But, in general comparison with the Wright machine, it was heavy and sluggish. It required a long run before it would lift into the air, and its engine-power, although twice that of the Wright biplane, was only just sufficient to make it fly. In a side wind, owing to the influence which the gusts exerted upon the vertical panels which were fitted between the main-planes, it made an appreciable amount of "lee-way," which rendered steering difficult.
Altogether, regarded from the point of view of experts to-day, it was a heavy, awkward machine. But it flew, and flew steadily. And anything that flew, in the year 1909, represented a triumph. Several famous airmen were piloting the Voisin biplane at the Rheims meeting, notably M. Louis Paulhan and M. Rougier.
From a military aspect, the Voisin biplane had many drawbacks. It was not at all portable; it could not rise quickly; it was slow-flying. But, with the very laudable intention of encouraging such ardent pioneers as the Voisin brothers, the French Government gave orders for certain military machines of this type.
Now we may turn to what was undoubtedly the most successful biplane at the great Rheims carnival—that designed and flown by Mr Henry Farman. This famous airman had, it will be remembered, first learned to fly upon a Voisin biplane. After piloting this machine in 1908, he turned his attention, early in 1909, to the design of a biplane which should be lighter and more efficient.
In this endeavour, he certainly succeeded. The biplane which he first flew in public at the Rheims meeting represented a distinct step forward in the development of this type of machine. In general construction, it was lighter than the Voisin machine, and it had other excellent features as well. Instead of the heavy, cellular tail, as fitted to the Voisin biplane, it had a lightly-constructed tail made up of two horizontal planes, with a vertical rudder fitted between them. In front of the main-planes, upon light wooden outriggers, was placed the horizontal elevating plane.
One of the features of this machine, was its method of obtaining lateral stability. Farman recognised the disadvantages of the vertical planes, as used in the Voisin machine. So he fitted small flaps, or horizontal planes, at the rear extremities of his mainplanes. These were hinged to the main-planes, and were termed "ailerons."
Their operation produced the same result as in the application of the wing-warping device of the Wright brothers. When the biplane tilted sideways in flight, the "ailerons" were drawn down, by means of controlling wires, on the side that was depressed. The air pressure, acting upon the surfaces of the "ailerons," forced the aeroplane back upon an even keel. When not in operation, the "ailerons" flew out straight in the wind, on a level with the main-planes.
The control of the Farman biplane was effected by means of a hand and foot lever. The hand lever, when moved forward or backward, operated the elevating plane. When shifted from side to side, it actuated the "ailerons." The pilot’s feet rested upon a pivoted bar, which he swung from side to side to move the rudder of the machine.
[Illustration: BRITISH-BUILT SCOUTING MONOPLANE. This aircraft, an exceedingly fast, single-seated machine, represents the type of machine now favoured by French authorities for urgent, rapid, general reconnaissance. Its constructors are Messrs. Short Brothers.]
Another constructional feature of this first Farman biplane was notable. This was the landing chassis. Appreciating the disadvantages of the Wright launching rail, and recognising that the Voisin chassis was heavy, Farman aimed at something lighter, and at the same time more efficient.
Again he succeeded. He devised a chassis which was a combination of wooden skids and bicycle wheels. Below his biplane, upon wooden uprights, were fitted two long wooden skids. On either side of each skid, were two little pneumatic-tyred bicycle wheels, connected by a short axle. The wheels were held in position on the skid by stout rubber bands, which passed over the axle.
Normally, the skids were raised off the ground by the wheels, upon which the biplane actually ran. But, in the case of a rather abrupt descent, the chassis was so designed that the wheels were forced up against their rubber bands, thus allowing the skids of the machine to come into contact with the ground. Then, when the force of the shock had been absorbed, the wheels came into play again. With this biplane, Farman achieved fine flights at Rheims.
Apart from its constructional excellence, the biplane was fitted with a motor which was destined to have a remarkable influence upon the development of flying—and upon military aviation in particular. This was the seven-cylinder, revolving "Gnome." To-day, the application of this wonderful engine is practically universal. In August, 1909, it was regarded quite as a freak, and was seen for the first time upon Henry Farman’s biplane.
Up to the time when this motor was introduced, makers had, in designing aeroplane engines, followed very largely upon motor-car design, constructing motors with fixed cylinders, either upright, or in "V" shape, and with their parts lightened wherever possible. Some were water-cooled; others air-cooled. But with both systems, and particularly with the latter, the tendency—owing to the high speeds at which the engines had to turn—was to overheat, and either lose power, or stop altogether.
The specially-lightened water-cooling systems which were devised gave a great deal of trouble; and, in the case of air-cooled engines, it was usually found almost impossible to prevent overheating, after the engines had been running for ten minutes or a quarter of an hour.
In the case of the "Gnome," the designer struck out in a new line. Instead of making his cylinders fixed, and his crank-shaft revolving, as was the method with other engines, he set his seven cylinders revolving around the crank-shaft. Petrol and oil he fed to the cylinders by way of the stationary hollow crank-shaft.
The internal complications of this engine, in the opinion of experts who first saw it, were such that it could not be expected to achieve reliability.
But it did, nevertheless; and it ran so well, in fact, that, at the Rheims meeting, Henry Farman remained in the air, while using it, for more than three hours, and won the prize for the longest flight.
The advantages of this remarkable engine proved to be many. In the first instance, its method of construction enabled it to be built remarkably light; and the fact that the seven cylinders revolved, generally at a speed of 1000 revolutions a minute, effectually disposed of cooling difficulties. In fact, the engine automatically cooled itself; and its fly-wheel effect, as it flew round, gave a smooth, even thrust to the propeller.
From the very day of its first introduction, the "Gnome" motor gained overwhelming success. It represented a piece of mechanism made specially for the work in hand, and not a motor-car engine adapted to aerial purposes. This fact was the secret of its success.
As rapidly as they could acquire them, other aeroplane makers fitted "Gnomes" to their machines. It proved all-conquering. Fixed-cylinder engines did not languish completely, however. Some of them were steadily improved, and performed reliable work. But the "Gnome" was then, and is now, regarded as the aeroplane engine.
The Farman biplane, being so good a machine in itself, and being equipped, in addition, with so excellent a motor, naturally aroused keen military interest; and it was not long before the inventor received Government orders for his machine. At this time, before the monoplane had assumed the commanding position which it now holds, the Farman biplane certainly represented the premier aeroplane of the day.
Two more machines, which were flown at the first carnival of flight at
Rheims, merit careful description. These were the Blériot and Antoinette
monoplanes. Blériot’s machine, of the type upon which he crossed the
Channel, was especially interesting.
Its simplicity was, as has been stated, its great recommendation. Upon either side of a tubular body, built up of light woodwork, and partly covered in with fabric, were the two supporting planes, outstretched like the wings of a bird, and supported by wires, above and below.
In the front of the body was the engine, which developed about twenty-five horse-power, and had three air-cooled cylinders. At the rear extremity of the body, which projected some little distance behind the lifting planes, was a small stabilising and weight-carrying plane, the end portions of which, on either side, were capable of being moved up and down. Behind this plane, fitted to the end of the body, was a small vertical rudder.
The pilot sat in the body of the machine, a little behind the engine, and on a level with the rear extremities of his wings. His method of control was extremely simple. Rising up between his knees was a metal cloche, or lever. This he shifted forward or backward to make his machine rise or fall, the movement of the lever actuating the extremities of the rear stabilising plane.
For maintaining the lateral stability of the monoplane, he moved the same lever from side to side. This action drew down, or warped, the rear portion of the supporting planes—effecting the same action, in fact, as produced in the case of the Wright biplane. When wishing to make a turn, the pilot pushed from side to side a bar upon which his feet rested. This moved the rudder at the rear of the body.
Already, as can be seen, the control of an aeroplane in flight had become more or less standardised. One lever was usually employed for elevating and lowering the machine, and also for controlling lateral movements. Steering was effected, as a rule, by movements of the pilot’s feet.
Another machine, representing these first types, which it will be necessary to describe, is the Antoinette monoplane. This machine had, and has still, many original features. It was, to begin with, a very ambitiously-designed machine. It had very large and strongly-built wings. These were set at a dihedral angle, so as to increase the machine’s stability. The engine, developing sixty horse-power, was fixed in the bow. The body of the machine, which was appreciably longer than that of the Blériot monoplane, ended in fixed horizontal and vertical planes, or "fins," rather resembling the feathering of an arrow. Hinged horizontal planes, at the extremity of the tail, provided means for elevating or lowering the machine. Vertical rudders were also fitted.
The controlling mechanism was original. On either side of the pilot, as he sat well back in the body of the monoplane, was a wheel. These wheels he turned when he wished to rise or descend, or correct the lateral stability of the monoplane.
By means of this wheel control, which locked the planes in any desired position, a very fine adjustment was possible. But the manipulation of the wheels, with which separate movements had to be made with each hand, was declared by many airmen to be difficult to learn. On the first of the Antoinette machines, it should be mentioned, "ailerons," or balancing flaps, were used to control lateral stability. Afterwards, however, wing-warping was adopted, and adhered to.
Such were the first aeroplanes, as seen at Rheims in the year 1909. Other more experimental machines there were, too, which did not figure prominently at the time, but which were destined to play a prominent part in future work. In this regard should be mentioned the R.E.P. monoplane, designed and built by M. Esnault Pelterie, and the Breguet biplane, designed, built, and flown by M. Louis Breguet.
IV. The human factor—Growing skill of airmen—Feats of 1910, as compared with those of 1909—Cross-country flying.
What the aeroplanes which we have been describing could not do was to combat a wind. No flight was essayed, indeed, unless weather conditions were quite favourable. A notable exception must, however, be made in the favour of the Antoinette monoplane. This aircraft, owing to its weight and stability, and the skilful and daring handling of Mr Latham was, on several occasions in 1909, and notably at the Blackpool flying meeting, able to remain aloft in very high and gusty winds.
Apart from the question of wind-flying, which was, of course, all-important, there were grave structural drawbacks in connection with many of these early machines. Some were too light; others too heavy. Save with those upon which the "Gnome" engine was fitted, there was almost constant engine trouble.
Above all, however, the human factor entered into the question. Men were learning to fly. Apart from any consideration of the good or bad points of their machines, they were invading a new element. As one shrewd observer, at this time, remarked: "The men who fly now are like those who first ventured upon the sea in frail cockle-shells. They tremble at their own daring."
More might have been accomplished in 1909, in fact, had men possessed greater confidence.
Take, for example, the attempts which were made, at the Rheims meeting, to win the altitude prize. To the amazement of spectators, one pilot rose until he flew slightly more than 500 feet high. This feat was, in 1909, considered a marvellous one. In 1911, only two years later, a man rose to an altitude of nearly two-and-a-half miles! The heights attained in 1909 could, indeed, have been appreciably increased had men possessed the necessary confidence in themselves, and in their machines, to force them higher.
But, in these pioneer days, a height of 150 feet or 200 feet from the ground was considered quite an appreciable altitude. Nowadays, when carrying out a long cross-country flight, an airman will fly several thousand feet high. Thus it can be seen what definite progress has been made in this aspect of flying alone.
High-flying has considerable importance. The airman who does not soar high, when going across country, meets the worst of whatever wind is blowing. It eddies from hill-tops, and around woods. The higher he flies, therefore, the steadier the wind blows, because it is unaffected by any inequalities of the ground. This is why the great cross-country flyers invariably ascend to a considerable altitude.
In the year 1909, it may truly be said, men were really learning to fly. Their machines were crude, and they were invading a new element. Therefore they made comparatively short flights, and confined nearly all their operations to aerodromes, where there was always a smooth place of descent below them, should the failure of their engines compel a hasty landing.
But, in 1910, a new and more daring spirit developed. With growing confidence, airmen soared higher and higher. Breezes no longer made them hasten to descend; and, with this new spirit of adventure, came the desire for cross-country flying, instead of monotonous circling round the aerodrome.
With the commencement of long flights across country from point to point, came the first practical opportunity for applying the aeroplane to military reconnoitring work. The first cross-country flights marked, indeed, a very definite stage in the development of the aeroplane; and it was in 1910 that the possibilities of the flying machine, in this regard, were demonstrated, on a convincing scale, by such aerial contests as the flight from London to Manchester, and the Circuit de L’Est in France—the first taking place early in the flying season of 1910, and the latter towards its end.
Two machines had, by this time, emerged as representing the best of their type. One was the Farman biplane, with the invincible "Gnome" motor; the other was the Blériot monoplane, now also equipped with the "Gnome." So far as distinction can be made, the Farman machine stood for ease of manipulation and general "air-worthiness"; while the Blériot represented the development of a small, portable, high-speed machine.
It was on the Farman biplane that M. Louis Paulhan flew, with one halt, the 183-miles aerial journey from London to Manchester; and Mr Grahame-White (one of the joint authors of this book), who also piloted a Farman, had the distinction of competing against him in what is now regarded as an historic contest.
In the Circuit de L’Est in France, Leblanc, the winner, flew some 400 miles on his Blériot monoplane, passing over all sorts of country, and finding his way accurately from point to point by means of his map and a special compass. He made frequent landings, without damaging his machine, and demonstrated its reliability in a most convincing way.
One question naturally arises, in any consideration of such flights as these, seeing that they were so greatly superior to anything that had been done in 1909. Had the aeroplanes which these pilots used been improved to any remarkable extent? In reply, it is certainly accurate to say that they had not. The "Gnome" engines with which they were fitted had, it is true, been strengthened in small ways, and perfected in the manufacture of certain delicate parts, the result being an even greater reliability in running than had first been attained.
As regards the aeroplanes, they were, in essentials, the same which had been flown in 1909. Their controlling mechanism was, for instance, unaltered. Their method of construction was practically the same, although experience had taught manufacturers the need of strengthening certain parts. Landing devices had been slightly improved, from the point of view of everyday wear.
Although aeroplanes and engines had both been improved a little, neither had been altered sufficiently to account for such a vast stride forward as was made in 1910. It was not to the machines, indeed, so much as to the men, that this striking progress was due.
Practice had begun to make perfect. Pilots now felt more comfortable when they were in the air. They had growing confidence in their aeroplanes. They had learned how to maintain stability when assailed by wind-gusts. Thus, they were ready to attempt far more ambitious flights.