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.