Lighter Than Air

by Guy Warner

  Capper was pleased with the way the airship had answered the controls and had steered well, both with and into the wind, overcoming the resistance of the strong breeze to make headway.18 They were driven back to Farnborough in Cody’s large touring car, in which Lieutenant Clive Waterlow had followed the airship, along with petrol, tools and the ground crew, an event which Waterlow described with some glee in a letter to his mother.19 (Waterlow had joined the Balloon School as a 2nd Lieutenant on 18 October 1906; he would spend the rest of his life on airships until his untimely and tragic death in an accident at RNAS Cranwell in 1917, at the age of thirty-one.)20 Three days later, owing to heavy winds and rain which had damaged and thoroughly soaked the envelope, as well as lowering the temperature of the hydrogen, so degrading its buoyancy and lift and, despite the innovative use of slipstream from the propellers to assist in drying out the envelope, the airship had to be deflated, and was taken back to Farnborough by means of horse and cart.21

  Capper was interviewed after the flight and said that he was very happy with it; the airship had performed well and could have stayed aloft for longer. He decided to terminate the flight because of the deteriorating weather and didn’t want to take risks at a stage when airship development was in its infancy.22

  La Patrie was lost on 29 November 1907, blown unmanned from her moorings at Verdun across Northern France, Cornwall and the Irish Sea. Numerous sightings were reported in the Belfast Telegraph, ‘to the consternation of the inhabitants’ of country towns and villages who, ‘gathered in large numbers’ to view the great yellow dirigible pass overhead.23 She struck a hillside on the south side of Belfast Lough at Ballydavey, Holywood, Co Down, losing a propeller in the process, but ascended once more and was last seen off the Isle of Islay speeding into oblivion.24

  Lieutenant Clive Waterlow RE.

  During the winter of 1907/08 work began on redesigning and rebuilding Nulli Secundus; modifications included the replacement of the covering net by a varnished silk ‘chemise’, a new understructure, the addition of a reserve gasbag, a new car for the crew and engine mounting, alterations to the control and stabilizing surfaces, and a new bow elevator.

  In April 1908, Colonel Templer’s contract was not renewed. No longer would his stocky form be seen in the environs of the balloon shed with a snuff-box in one hand and a large coloured handkerchief in the other. A terse file note is all that has survived by way of an official tribute, ‘Colonel Templer’s services were dispensed with from the 1st inst – 27.4.08.’25 He faded away and has never really been given the recognition he deserves as a great pioneer of military aviation.

  In November 1907 parts of the Lebaudy airship La Patrie were left on a hillside in Co Down.

  Nulli Secundus II.

  Nulli Secundus II first flew on the evening of 24 July 1908, and proved to be somewhat unstable and difficult to trim. Two more short flights were made in August, during which a top speed of 22mph (35kph) was reached, but she was of little value and was broken up. At some stage over the summer a party of naval personnel visited Farnborough and received some instruction in airship handling. Colonel Capper later remarked that as far as the airship’s name went it actually came a bad second to the Willows 1A.26

  The Times was much more willing to sing the praises of the team, in particular Cody, Capper and Templer, which had reconstructed Nulli Secundus:

  ‘As is now known there are many airships which have been completed and are under construction. Every new vessel proves more conclusively to the unbiased mind that it is merely a question of time, practice, experiment and general development – especially regarding the construction of a light yet powerful engine – before airships will be sufficiently navigable, even in strong winds and unfavourable weather, to prove of enormous value to every civilised portion of the world. The first trial of the rebuilt Nulli Secundus, which took place on Cove Common last week, should certainly give every Englishman satisfaction that our experiments, though somewhat tardy, are coming to a more successful path and should encourage all who possess either foresight or patriotism or both.’27

  The use of new technology also extended to communications, experiments in wireless telegraphy being conducted. The first wireless company of the Royal Engineers was formed in 1907 at Farnborough. Its primary task was to investigate the possibilities of military communication by means of airborne wireless sets and was, therefore, attached to the Balloon School. In May 1908, Capper, and Lieutenant C.J. Ashton RE, ascended in the free balloon Pegasus to a height of 8000 feet and, when aloft over Petersfield, received signals from a wireless station at Aldershot some 20 miles (32 kilometres) away and also from the battleship HMS King Edward VII, which was lying off Portsmouth. The British and Irish press reported in July 1908 that successful experiments had taken place near Berlin, conducted by the German army, concerning the dispatch of wireless telegrams from a dirigible.28 As this technology involved sparks on electrical contacts it was regarded as rather hazardous when in close association with a gasbag full of hydrogen, however the Germans persevered, and within a few months were using airships equipped with wireless sets on army manoeuvres.

  Also in 1908, Lieutenant E.M. Maitland – ‘a brilliant, brave and gallant officer, whose personal influence on the officers and men of the Airship Service became legendary, even in his lifetime’29 – made his first parachute jump from a trapeze suspended below a hot-air balloon at Crystal Palace, landing on the roof of a public house, from which encounter he emerged unscathed – but not so the roof.

  Contemporary Media Comment

  It is interesting to note that in January 1908, Pall Mall magazine featured the first part of a new serial story by H.G. Wells, The War in the Air, which included a highly coloured description of a devastating attack on a fleet of American dreadnought battleships, followed by a ruinous air raid on New York by an armada of German airships:

  ‘As the airships sailed along they smashed up the city as a child will shatter its cities of brick and card. Below, they left ruins and blazing conflagrations, and heaped and scattered dead; men, women and children mixed together.’30

  Authors in France and Germany during this period, such as Emile Driant and Rudolf Martin, also wrote of airships transporting vast armies to attack Russia or Britain and bring death and destruction on a huge scale. Others believed – employing what could only be wishful thinking – that warfare from the air would be so destructive that it would make conflict between the major powers less likely.31

  A cartoon from the US magazine Puck of January 1906.

  There was a growing sense of public unease that Britain was no longer so securely insulated by the Royal Navy from the threat of invasion. A popular contemporary success in the London theatre was the play, An Englishman’s Home by Guy du Maurier, which showed in dramatic form what might happen if England were subject to a German invasion.

  Developments in Government Policy

  The potential threat from the air began to shake the populace from its Victorian stance of complacent insularity.32 Indeed, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, David Lloyd George, made Parliament aware of H.G. Wells’ latest story when participating in the Aerial Navigation Sub-committee of the Committee of Imperial Defence, which had been established in October 1908 with the following terms of reference:

  ‘Several of the great powers are turning their attention to the question and are spending large sums of money in the development of dirigible balloons and aeroplanes. It is probable that for countries with land frontiers immediately across which lie potential enemies, the development of airships has hitherto been more important than it is for Great Britain, and that we have been justified for this reason in spending less money than some of our neighbours. The success that has attended recent experiments in France, Germany and America has, however, created a new situation which appears to render it advisable that the subject of aerial navigation should be investigated.’33

  The Chairman of this sub-committee was Lord Esher, who was not only a di
stinguished military strategist, but also had the ear and confidence of the King, Edward VII. The other members were the Chancellor of the Exchequer, David Lloyd George; the Secretary of State for War, R.B. Haldane; the First Lord of the Admiralty, Reginald McKenna; the Director of Naval Ordnance, Captain R.H.S. Bacon, RN; the Chief of the Imperial General Staff, General Sir W. Nicholson; the Director of Military Operations, Major General J.S. Ewart and the Master General of the Ordnance, Major General C. Hadden. Its aim was to deliberate what should be done about assessing future dangers from the air, how to counter them and how much money to spend on this. Written evidence principally concerning balloons and dirigibles was submitted by Sir Hiram Maxim, Charles Rolls, Lieutenant Colonel John Capper, RE, and Major B.F.S. Baden-Powell. It was decided that airships might well have some utility in the roles of reconnaissance over land and sea, as well as artillery spotting, and that hostile airships might become capable of carrying out bombing raids on the British Isles. From the minutes of the meeting which Colonel Capper attended, it would appear that he lost not only the support of General Nicholson, who strongly disapproved of aircraft of any sort, but also of R.B. Haldane, which did not bode well for the security of his tenure at Farnborough.34 Haldane had been educated in Germany and much admired the inhabitants’ efficiency and technological prowess, being particularly interested in Count Zeppelin’s experiments and progress.35 He was in favour of creating an aerial service, but he wanted progress towards this aim to be structured, measured, organised and systematic, with a scientific research and development programme directed and controlled by the government. Others disagreed and felt that in order not to fall further behind the continental powers, Britain should purchase immediately the latest available technology.36

  Figures were released by the War Office in response to a question from Lord Montagu of Beaulieu showing a comparison of the sums spent on aviation in 1908 by several European governments. Leading the field was Germany with £135,000 from public funds, to which was added £265,000 collected by private subscription by the National Zeppelin Airship Fund. Next was France with £47,000, then Austria-Hungary with £5500 and trailing in fourth was Great Britain with £5270, £1980 of which was allocated to the army for dirigible balloons and £3290 on aeroplanes.37 As well as being a distinguished motoring authority, Lord Montagu was very interested in aeronautics and was a founder member of the Aerial League of the British Empire, founded in January 1909. Its aim was to convince the country of the vital importance to the British Empire of aerial supremacy, much in the way that the Royal Navy had assured domination of the seas in the century following Trafalgar. He was particularly exercised by the thought of a fleet of airships striking pre-emptively at the strategic targets concentrated in London, effectively winning a future war before the army or the Royal Navy could get to grips with enemy forces.38

  ‘It would be possible for dirigibles to leave the frontier stations of at least five Continental powers, all within 500 miles distance from where we are now seated, and do much damage at Aldershot, Portsmouth, Dover, Chatham, Sheerness, and other military and naval stations, without taking into account that an attempt would certainly be made to paralyse the heart of the nation by attacking certain nerve centres in London, the destruction of which would impede or entirely destroy the means of communication by telephone, telegraph, rail and road.

  ‘Germany’s plans in airships, as in other directions, are not fully known to us; nor would this be the occasion to state how such information can be obtained. But it is beyond doubt that she has, at the present moment, the best and the only fully equipped aerial fleet in the world, and one which is more than a match for all the other dirigibles in existence.

  ‘The day is not far distant when England will have to be something besides nominal mistress of the seas. She will have to be at least equal to her neighbours in the matter of aerial defence and offence, and it is our business and the duty of the nation at large to see that the authorities are awakened in time to their responsibilities in this direction.’39

  Moreover, a very trenchant article in The Times of February 1909 was highly critical of the British efforts so far in the field of aeronautics and argued forcibly for the airship:

  ‘The war of the future is likely to be decided in no small measure by the use of scientific instruments of destruction controlled by highly trained men. That the airship in its various forms promises to become such an instrument is every day becoming more and more apparent. Progress may be astonishingly rapid, but without well-equipped laboratories, testing grounds and factories, our authorities are utterly unable to discover the merits of new ideas. We are laboriously going over the same preliminary ground which the French and Germans traversed years ago. A most important task is to bring the adult Briton to understand that there is an immediate need for an aerial defence scheme. With this end in view I would favour the holding of public meetings and lectures throughout the important centres and, better still, practical demonstrations by airships, even if we have to go abroad for the machines and the men. It is painful to report that no successful dirigible or aeroplane has yet been flown in the British Isles and that the vast majority of the people have never seen one in any form.’40

  A subsequent article in March of the same year contended:

  ‘In 1912 the Germans will have at least twenty-four mammoth Zeppelin airships, each capable of overseas excursions and probably speedier than any naval vessel. Our rate of production is one vessel per annum and by 1912, at most, we may have some five small-sized, slow, non-rigid airships, which compared to Zeppelins will be as antiquated cruisers to Dreadnoughts. A Zeppelin of the present-day type could reach this country in ten hours and do enormous damage in a brief space of time.’41

  Whilst the critique of the British lack of organisation was reasonable enough, the correspondent’s estimate of the German capability was over-egging the pudding somewhat. The somewhat febrile atmosphere was heightened by a rash of reports received in police stations and newspaper offices across the country – in the first few months of 1909 – claiming the sighting of mysterious flying objects, widely believed to be airships of unknown but suspicious origin. This became known as the Phantom Airship Scare and was part of a developing national phobia concerning Germans and their hostile intentions, such as the rumour that there were 80,000 soldiers of the Kaiser embedded in the country, disguised as waiters, barbers, businessmen and shop assistants.42 It was, to a certain extent, a by-product of the Anglo-German naval rivalry and the German desire to have colonies to match those of the British Empire. The paranoia might have been better directed to an appreciation of the portents of firstly, the remarkable feat of Louis Blériot in the early hours of 25 June 1909 when he completed his crossing of the English Channel in his frail monoplane in a time of thirty-seven minutes, and secondly, the International Flying Meeting at Reims a month later, of which it was written:

  ‘Reims marked the true acceptance of the aeroplane as a practical vehicle and as such was a major milestone in the world’s history.’43

  Yet the fixed-wing aeroplane was still in its infancy. David Lloyd George attended the Reims meeting and was impressed by what he witnessed, causing the Morning Post to comment:

  ‘If Mr Lloyd George’s words help to rouse the minds of his followers to the importance of the question, they will do more for the interests of the country than his stupid abuse of landlords. The Chancellor of the Exchequer says that Englishmen would soon grow enthusiastic if they saw airships in flight. In this he is quite right. As Mr Lloyd George no doubt realizes, it is the dirigible balloon that at present is the best adapted for practical uses. The terrible damage which such a vessel could work, and the tremendous moral effect its operations would produce, render it a most formidable engine of war. An attack could only be effectively met by other airships, and the English people cannot realize too soon the urgent necessity of organizing an aerial fleet. Until this is done the position of the country is one of grave and increasing danger.’44r />
  There was, however, official and military awareness in 1909 of the potential threat posed by German dirigibles. The British Military Attaché in Berlin, Colonel Frederick Trench, had paid particular attention to airship development in the country; questioning his contacts, travelling around the country to view airships, visiting the factories in which they were being constructed, and keeping abreast of reports in the national, regional and technical press. He sent detailed reports to the War Office in London, noting, amongst other events, that a school for aeronauts had been established at Friedrichshafen; secret contracts had been let for the increased manufacture of hydrogen, which would be taken over by the military on the ‘outbreak of hostilities’ and that airship manoeuvres, including wireless telegraphy, bomb dropping and ‘airship chasing’, had taken place in the Rhine Valley near Cologne; which was regarded as being of particular significance as that city was, ‘almost the nearest point to England’.45 Not only did he produce these official reports, but he also wrote privately to Colonel Capper, whom he knew well. He attempted to arrange for Capper to visit Germany to have a look at the dirigibles, but encountered reluctance on the part of previously friendly contacts, which made him even more suspicious of Germany’s ultimate intentions.

  Back at Farnborough