H. G. Hawker, airman: his life and work

by Muriel Hawker

The Australian Press were not lacking in giving every possible support to aviation, and in particular to Harry’s enterprise. On Saturday, February 7th, the Melbourne Argus devoted a whole page to descriptive details and pictures of the Tabloid, with which Harry was to give his exhibition in the afternoon. Asked how much there was in the art of flying, Harry replied: “All you have to do is to get off the ground, keep up, and get back again, when and where you want to.” Replying to a request for his opinion as to a certain accident, when an aeroplane fell to the ground and was smashed as if it were an egg, Harry said that the source of the trouble was a heavy machine flying low down near the ground. What one required most of all was plenty of air beneath one. He himself never from choice flew below 3,000 feet. If anything happened while one was well up, there was a chance of making a good recovery before making contact with solid earth.

Upwards of 25,000 people assembled at the Caulfield Racecourse to witness Harry’s flying exhibition on the Saturday afternoon. In New Zealand, Sydney, and Adelaide, the public had already seen a fair amount of good flying, but, excepting those who had happened to see his previous informal flights, the people of Melbourne had not until this Saturday made the acquaintance of an experienced pilot who was as much, if not more, at ease in the air as on the ground. Many factors probably accounted for the extraordinarily large attendance. The display was unique, for one thing; then the fact of Harry being an Australian, and young at that, would draw many from pure sentiment. Again, was not the man of the hour distinguished in the world of flight?

The early part of the day was rainy and cheerless and there was little improvement by the time the flights were to start. The outlook was far from promising. Nevertheless, all the scheduled special trains, numbering eighteen, were filled to overflowing, carrying 8,500 people in all. All roads leading to the racecourse were filled with motor and other vehicular traffic, which accounted for another 17,000 people. It was a veritable Derby Day. Although several thousands paid to enter the course, as many, and probably more, occupied points of vantage outside, from where a clear view of the sky was to be had. The top of the fence which surrounded the field was lined with hundreds of heads of boys, youths, and men, all craning their necks to see as much as possible without expending more than a little energy. Others thronged the roads and streets in the vicinity.

It was most unfortunate that, owing to the fact that the crowd was too great to be amenable to the wants and dictates of the management, the display was marred. Carried away by their enthusiasm and curiosity, parts of the crowd overran the landing-ground, and so forced Harry, in the interests of their safety, to abandon some of his programme. Harry had previously been at great pains to choose this straight stretch and arrange for it to be kept clear as a starting-and alighting-ground. But across the end of the straight, near a newly-erected grandstand, a densely-packed mass of people gathered, while hundreds of others persisted in lining the rail of the steeplechase course. It was thus rendered very difficult for Harry to land, and these two masses of people considerably reduced the landing-space available. In fact, as a result of the heedlessness of the crowds to warnings, cajoling, and the attempted force of the police, at the end of his second flight Harry was forced to make a fast landing, which terminated by his swerving on the ground and running into the railing at the flat side of the straight, where the crowd was exceptionally dense. One man, Mr. G. K. Francis, an uncle of Harry’s friend and mechanic, Kauper, was struck on the nose by the still slowly revolving propeller, and several others in the vicinity received blows from other parts of the machine. Fortunately no one was seriously injured, and the damage done to the machine was very slight. Apart from a damaged landing chassis and a splintered propeller, no other fracture occurred. Before this happened Harry had decided that the crowd was making matters impossible for him. His original intention was to make a solo flight first and then follow this up by a series of passenger flights. A Miss Dixon was to be the first passenger and Mrs. Clive Daniel the second. Lord Denman, the Governor-General, accepted an invitation to make a flight. Several other passenger flights had also been arranged beforehand.

However, when the first ascent had been made according to schedule, the crowd became unmanageable. The primary cause of the trouble was without doubt the immense enthusiasm of the crowd and the intense admiration which they had for Hawker. After his first flight, Harry managed to have his machine drawn back to its original starting-point near the beginning of the straight. Then the crowd which blocked that end of the course broke from behind a police cordon and swarmed round the biplane. The number of police present was inadequate to be of any avail. The crowd would not be forced back. The two or three mounted police who were stationed in the straight galloped up to the assistance of their colleagues on foot and did their utmost to force the crowd away. Miss Dixon had just walked down the course to the point where the biplane stood, ready to take her seat. The crowd swarmed round on every side, and meanwhile people from the other side of the straight were climbing the fences and running across the track. The police did the most they could to stem this new tide, but fully half an hour elapsed before anything approaching order was restored. Even then the people lining the end of the straight had advanced their position a considerable way up the track, and thousands were lining the high fence on the flat side of the course. Harry and his mechanics and members of the racing club harangued the crowd and warned them of the danger, but their efforts to clear the course were of no avail. Harry therefore decided not to take the risk of making a landing in the cramped area with a passenger on board. Nevertheless, in order that the entertainment should not be entirely spoiled, he determined to make one more flight, with Miss Dixon as a passenger, and land at Elsternwick.

His altitude record having been broken in England a few days previously, Harry had felt inclined to attempt to regain it in the course of his exhibition on Saturday, but in view of all the circumstances which I have outlined he abandoned the idea. Nevertheless, his second flight was an effective exhibition of altitude flying. He topped 6,000 feet and was almost lost to the view of the spectators. Descending after a flight of about fifteen minutes, Harry experienced the landing difficulties which he had expected and which terminated as already described. Sweeping in from above the new grandstand, he switched off his engine and swooped down, only to find the space too small for landing. He switched on again and passed above the crowd. Three times he repeated this manœuvre, which the crowd cheered and regarded as an intentional feature of the exhibition. On the fourth occasion he landed and ran into the crowd as explained. Speaking of the accident afterwards, Harry said: “I made a very bad landing, but it was a very difficult place. If there had not been so many people there it would have been all right. It was difficult work, but the machine stood the test.”

To review these flights in greater detail.

However great was the difficulty when near the ground, Harry was perfect master of the machine in the air. Like a snipe hopping along the ground before it takes wing, the machine shot forward. No one seemed really to expect that it would fly, and the shout which rent the air as the machine left the ground seemed one of half astonishment and half satisfaction. At first Harry was content to traverse the course, circling round and round above the heads of the people, who cheered and cheered again. Turning the nose of his machine into the south-westerly wind which blew, Harry began to climb in ever-narrowing circles. Suddenly he pulled back the “joy-stick,” and from the crowd below came a long-drawn “Ah!” To those on the ground it seemed impossible that the machine could right itself. But Harry had done no more than wilfully stall his machine, which, instead of turning upside down, merely slid down about two hundred feet on its tail. Righted once more, the machine was made to bank, volplane, twist and turn like a great bird circling and hovering above the sea of upturned faces. Then apparently it grew tired and swooped gracefully to earth again. Passing over the stewards’ stand, Harry several times playfully swooped down and up, leaving only a few feet between the machine and their heads. Momentarily the crowd felt a thrill of fear.

Cheers rent the air as the machine at last came to a standstill, and when Harry, after he had scrambled out, walked towards the grandstand, there was a general rush to congratulate him and shake his hand. Thus ended the first flight.

The second flight seemed to the watchers below far more sensational than the first. Scarcely waiting to circle the course, Harry began to climb. The bark of the motor became no more than a purr as the machine forced its way upwards, towards the sun apparently; 5,000 feet up, the Tabloid appeared as a soaring bird to the crowd below. Suddenly the purring of the motor ceased, and like a black-winged peer of the eagle, the biplane sailed across the sky, twisting and turning as it were in pursuit of visible prey. As it descended, the machine appeared to change from black to grey. It was swallowed up by cloud and disappeared altogether, only to return to earth with surprising suddenness.