The Mastery of the Air

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For nearly a year London, owing to its greatly increased
defences, had been free from attack. Then, on the night of
October 19, Germany made a colossal effort to make good
their boast of laying London in ruins. A fleet of eleven
Zeppelins came over, five of which found the city. One, drifting
low and silently, was responsible for most of the casualties,
which totalled 34 killed and 56 injured.

The fleet got away from these shores without mishap. Then, at
long last, came retribution. Flying very high, they seem to have
encountered an aerial storm which drove them helplessly over
French territory. Our allies were swift to seize this golden
opportunity. Their airmen and anti-aircraft guns shot down no
less than four of the Zeppelins in broad daylight, one of which
was captured whole. Of the remainder, one at least drifted
over the Mediterranean, and was not heard of again. That was the
last of the Zeppelin, so far as the civilian population was
concerned. But, for nearly a year, the work of killing citizens
had been undertaken by the big bomb-dropping Gotha aeroplanes.

The work of the Gotha belongs rightly to the second part of this
book, which deals with aeroplanes and airmen; but it would be
convenient to dispose here of the part played by the Gotha in the
air raids upon this country.

The reconnaissance took place on Tuesday, November 28, 1916, when
in a slight haze a German aeroplane suddenly appeared over
London, dropped six bombs, and flew off. The Gotha was
intercepted off Dunkirk by the French, and brought down. Pilot
and observer-two naval lieutenants-were found to have a
large-scale map of London in their possession. The new era of
raids had commenced.

Very soon it became evident that the new squadron of Gothas were
much more destructive than the former fleets of unwieldy
Zeppelins. These great Gothas were each capable of dropping
nearly a ton of bombs. And their heavy armament and swift flight
rendered them far less vulnerable than the air-ship.

From March 1 to October 31, 1917, no less than twenty-two raids
took place, chiefly on London and towns on the south-east coast.
The casualties amounted to 484 killed and 410 wounded. The two
worst raids occurred June 13 on East London, and September 3 on
the Sheerness and Chatham area.

A squadron of fifteen aeroplanes carried out the raid, on June
13, and although they were only over the city for a period of
fifteen minutes the casualty list was exceedingly heavy--104
killed and 432 wounded. Many children were among the killed and
injured as the result of a bomb which fell upon a Council school.
The raid was carried out in daylight, and the bombs began to drop
before any warning could be given. Later, an effective and
comprehensive system of warnings was devised, and when people had
acquired the habit of taking shelter, instead of rushing out into
the street to see the aerial combats, the casualties began to
diminish.

It is worthy of record that the possible danger to schools had
been anticipated, and for some weeks previously the children had
taken part in "Air Raid Drill". When the raid came, the children
behaved in the most exemplary fashion. They went through the
manoeuvres as though it was merely a rehearsal, and their bearing
as well as the coolness of the teachers obviated all danger from
panic. In this raid the enemy first made use of aerial
torpedoes.

Large loss of life, due to a building being struck, was also the
feature of the moonlight raid on September 4. On this occasion
enemy airmen found a mark on the Royal Naval barracks at
Sheerness. The barracks were fitted with hammocks for sleeping,
and no less than 108 bluejackets lost their lives, the number of
wounded amounting to 92. Although the raid lasted nearly an hour
and powerful searchlights were brought into play, neither guns
nor our airmen succeeded in causing any loss to the raiders.
Bombs were dropped at a number of other places, including Margate
and Southend, but without result.

No less than six raids took place on London before the end of the
month, but the greatest number of killed in any one of the raids
was eleven, while on September 28 the raiders were driven off
before they could claim any victims. The establishment of a
close barrage of aerial guns did much to discourage the raiders,
and gradually London, from being the most vulnerable spot in the
British Isles, began to enjoy comparative immunity from attack.

Paris, too, during the Great War has had to suffer bombardment
from the air, but not nearly to the same extent as London. The
comparative immunity of Paris from air raids is due partly to the
prompt measures which were taken to defend the capital. The
French did not wait, as did the British, until the populace was
goaded to the last point of exasperation, but quickly instituted
the barrage system, in which we afterwards followed their lead.
Moreover, the French were much more prompt in adopting
retaliatory tactics. They hit back without having to wade
through long moral and philosophical disquisitions upon the
ethics of "reprisals". On the other hand, it must be remembered
that Paris, from the aerial standpoint, is a much more difficult
objective than London. The enemy airman has to cross the French
lines, which, like his own, stretch for miles in the rear.
Practically he is in hostile country all the time, and he has to
get back across the same dangerous air zones. It is a far easier
task to dodge a few sea-planes over the wide seas en route to
London. And on reaching the coast the airman has to evade or
fight scattered local defences, instead of penetrating the close
barriers which confront him all the way to Paris.

Since the first Zeppelin attack on Paris on March 21, 1915, when
two of the air-ships reached the suburbs, killing 23 persons and
injuring 30, there have been many raids and attempted raids, but
mostly by single machines. The first air raid in force upon the
French capital took place on January 31, 1918, when a squadron of
Gothas crossed the lines north of Compiegne. Two hospitals were
hit, and the casualties from the raid amounted to 20 killed and
50 wounded.

After the Italian set-back in the winter of 1917, the Venetian
plain lay open to aerial bombardment by the Germans, who had
given substantial military aid to their Austrian allies. This
was an opportunity not to be lost by Germany, and Venice and
other towns of the plain were subject to systematic bombardment.

At the time of writing, Germany is beginning to suffer some of
the annoyances she is so ready to inflict upon others. The
recently constituted Air Ministry have just published figures
relating to the air raids into Germany from December 1, 1917, to
February 19, 1918 inclusive. During these eleven weeks no fewer
than thirty-five raids have taken place upon a variety of towns,
railways, works, and barracks. In the list figure such important
towns as Mannheim (pop. 20,000) and Metz (pop. 100,000). The
average weight of bombs dropped at each raid works out about 1000
lbs. This welcome official report is but one of many signs which
point the way to the growing supremacy of the Allies in the air.

PART II
AEROPLANES AND AIRMEN

CHAPTER XIV
Early Attempts in Aviation

The desire to fly is no new growth in humanity. For countless
years men have longed to emulate the birds--"To soar upward and
glide, free as a bird, over smiling fields, leafy woods, and
mirror-like lakes," as a great pioneer of aviation said. Great
scholars and thinkers of old, such as Horace, Homer, Pindar,
Tasso, and all the glorious line, dreamt of flight, but it has
been left for the present century to see those dreams fulfilled.

Early writers of the fourth century saw the possibility of aerial
navigation, but those who tried to put their theories in practice
were beset by so many difficulties that they rarely succeeded in
leaving the ground.

Most of the early pioneers of aviation believed that if a man
wanted to fly he must provide himself with a pair of wings
similar to those of a large bird. The story goes that a certain
abbot told King James IV of Scotland that he would fly from
Stirling Castle to Paris. He made for himself powerful wings
of eagles' feathers, which he fixed to his body and launched
himself into the air. As might be expected, he fell and broke
his legs.

But although the muscles of man are of insufficient strength to
bear him in the air, it has been found possible, by using a motor
engine, to give to man the power of flight which his natural
weakness denied him.

Scientists estimate that to raise a man of about 12 stone in the
air and enable him to fly there would be required an immense pair
of wings over 20 feet in span. In comparison with the weight of
a man a bird's weight is remarkably small--the largest bird does
not weigh much more than 20 pounds--but its wing muscles are
infinitely stronger in proportion than the shoulder and arm
muscles of a man.

As we shall see in a succeeding chapter, the "wing" theory was
persevered with for many years some two or three centuries ago,
and later on it was of much use in providing data for the gradual
development of the modern aeroplane.

CHAPTER XV
A Pioneer in Aviation

Hitherto we have traced the gradual development of the balloon
right from the early days of aeronautics, when the brothers
Montgolfier constructed their hot-air balloon, down to the most
modern dirigible. It is now our purpose, in this and subsequent
chapters, to follow the course of the pioneers of aviation.

It must not be supposed that the invention of the steerable
balloon was greatly in advance of that of the heavier-than-air
machine. Indeed, developments in both the dirigible airship and
the aeroplane have taken place side by side. In some cases men
like Santos Dumont have given earnest attention to both forms of
air-craft, and produced practical results with both. Thus, after
the famous Brazilian aeronaut had won the Deutsch prize for a
flight in an air-ship round the Eiffel tower, he immediately set
to work to construct an aeroplane which he subsequently piloted
at Bagatelle and was awarded the first "Deutsch prize" for
aviation.

It is generally agreed that the undoubted inventor of the
aeroplane, practically in the form in which it now appears, was
an English engineer, Sir George Cayley. Just over a hundred
years ago this clever Englishman worked out complete plans for an
aeroplane, which in many vital respects embodied the principal
parts of the monoplane as it exists to-day.

There were wings which were inclined so that they formed a
lifting plane; moreover, the wings were curved, or "cambered",
similar to the wing of a bird, and, as we shall see in a later
chapter, this curve is one of the salient features of the plane
of a modern heavier-than-air machine. Sir George also advocated
the screw propeller worked by some form of "explosion" motor,
which at that time had not arrived. Indeed, if there had been a
motor available it is quite possible that England would have led
the way in aviation. But, unfortunately, owing to the absence of
a powerful motor engine, Sir George's ideas could not be
practically carried out till nearly a century later, and then
Englishmen were forestalled by the Wright brothers, of America,
as well as by several French inventors.

The distinguished French writer, Alphonse Berget, in his book,
The Conquest of the Air, pays a striking tribute to our English
inventor, and this, coming from a gentleman who is writing from a
French point of view, makes the praise of great value. In
alluding to Sir George, M. Berget says: "The inventor, the
incontestable forerunner of aviation, was an Englishman, Sir
George Cayley, and it was in 1809 that he described his project
in detail in Nicholson's Journal. . . . His idea embodied
'everything'--the wings forming an oblique sail, the empennage,
the spindle forms to diminish resistance, the screw-propeller,
the 'explosion' motor, . . . he even described a means of
securing automatic stability. Is not all that marvellous, and
does it not constitute a complete specification for everything in
aviation?

"Thus it is necessary to inscribe the name of Sir George Cayley
in letters of gold, in the first page of the aeroplane's history.
Besides, the learned Englishman did not confine himself to
'drawing-paper': he built the first apparatus (without a motor)
which gave him results highly promising. Then he built a second
machine, this time with a motor, but unfortunately during the
trials it was smashed to pieces."

But were these ideas of any practical value? How is it that he
did not succeed in flying, if he had most of the component parts
of an aeroplane as we know it to-day?

The answer to the second question is that Sir George did not fly,
simply because there was no light petrol motor in existence; the
crude motors in use were far too heavy, in proportion to the
power developed, for service in a flying machine. It was
recognized, not only by Sir George, but by many other English
engineers in the first half of the nineteenth century, that as
soon as a sufficiently powerful and light engine did appear, then
half the battle of the conquest of the air would be won.

But his prophetic voice was of the utmost assistance to such
inventors as Santos Dumont, the Wright brothers, M. Bleriot, and
others now world-famed. It is quite safe to assume that they
gave serious attention to the views held by Sir George, which
were given to the world at large in a number of highly-interest-
ing lectures and magazine articles. "Ideas" are the very
foundation-stones of invention--if we may be allowed the figure
of speech--and Englishmen are proud, and rightly proud, to number
within their ranks the original inventor of the heavier-than-air
machine.

CHAPTER XVI
The "Human Birds"

For many years after the publication of Sir George Cayley's
articles and lectures on aviation very little was done in the way
of aerial experiments. True, about midway through the nineteenth
century two clever engineers, Henson and Stringfellow, built a
model aeroplane after the design outlined by Sir George; but
though their model was not of much practical value, a little more
valuable experience was accumulated which would be of service
when the time should come; in other words, when the motor engine
should arrive. This model can be seen at the Victoria and Albert
Museum, at South Kensington.

A few years later Stringfellow designed a tiny steam-engine,
which he fitted to an equally tiny monoplane, and it is said that
by its aid he was able to obtain a very short flight through the
air. As some recognition of his enterprise the Aeronautical
Society, which was founded in 1866, awarded him a prize of L100
for his engine.

The idea of producing a practical form of flying machine was
never abandoned entirely. Here and there experiments continued
to be carried out, and certain valuable conclusions were arrived
at. Many advanced thinkers and writers of half a century ago set
forth their opinions on the possibilities of human flight. Some
of them, like Emerson, not only believed that flight would come,
but also stated why it had not arrived. Thus Emerson, when
writing on the subject of air navigation about fifty years ago,
remarked: "We think the population is not yet quite fit for
them, and therefore there will be none. Our friend suggests so
many inconveniences from piracy out of the high air to orchards
and lone houses, and also to high fliers, and the total
inadequacy of the present system of defence, that we have not the
heart to break the sleep of the great public by the repetition of
these details. When children come into the library we put the
inkstand and the watch on the high shelf until they be a little
older."

About the year 1870 a young German engineer, named Otto
Lilienthal, began some experiments with a motorless glider, which
in course of time were to make him world-famed. For nearly
twenty years Lilienthal carried on his aerial research work in
secrecy, and it was not until about the year 1890 that his
experimental work was sufficiently advanced for him to give
demonstrations in public.

The young German was a firm believer in what was known as the
"soaring-plane" theory of flight. From the picture here given we
can get some idea of his curious machine. It consisted of large
wings, formed of thin osiers, over which was stretched light
fabric. At the back were two horizontal rudders shaped
somewhat like the long forked tail of a swallow, and over these
was a large steering rudder. The wings were arranged around the
glider's body. The whole apparatus weighed about 40 pounds.

Lilienthal's flights, or glides, were made from the top of a
specially-constructed large mound, and in some cases from the
summit of a low tower. The "birdman" would stand on the top of
the mound, full to the wind, and run quickly forward with
outstretched wings. When he thought he had gained sufficient
momentum he jumped into the air, and the wings of the glider bore
him through the air to the base of the mound.

To preserve the balance of his machine--always a most difficult
feat--he swung his legs and hips to one side or the other, as
occasion required, and, after hundreds of glides had been made,
he became so skilful in maintaining the equilibrium of his
machine that he was able to cover a distance, downhill, of
300 yards.

Later on, Lilienthal abandoned the glider, or elementary form of
monoplane, and adopted a system of superposed planes,
corresponding to the modern biplane. The promising career of
this clever German was brought to an untimely end in 1896, when,
in attempting to glide from a height of about 80 yards, his
apparatus made a sudden downward swoop, and he broke his neck.

Now that Lillenthal's experiments had proved conclusively the
efficiency of wings, or planes, as carrying surfaces, other
engineers followed in his footsteps, and tried to improve on his
good work.

The first "birdman" to use a glider in this country was Mr. Percy
Pilcher who carried out his experiments at Cardross in Scotland.
His glides were at first made with a form of apparatus very
similar to that employed by Lilienthal, and in time he came to
use much larger machines. So cumbersome, however, was his
apparatus--it weighed nearly 4 stones--that with such a great
weight upon his shoulders he could not run forward quickly enough
to gain sufficient momentum to "carry off" from the hillside. To
assist him in launching the apparatus the machine was towed by
horses, and when sufficient impetus had been gained the tow-rope
was cast off.

Three years after Lilienthal's death Pilcher met with a similar
accident. While making a flight his glider was overturned, and
the unfortunate "birdman " was dashed to death.

In America there were at this time two or three "human birds",
one of the most famous being M. Octave Chanute. During the years
1895-7 Chanute made many flights in various types of gliding
machines, some of which had as many as half a dozen planes
arranged one above another. His best results, however, were
obtained by the two-plane machine, resembling to a remarkable
extent the modern biplane.

CHAPTER XVII
The Aeroplane and the Bird

We have seen that the inventors of flying machines in the early
days of aviation modelled their various craft somewhat in the
form of a bird, and that many of them believed that if the
conquest of the air was to be achieved man must copy nature and
provide himself with wings.

Let us closely examine a modern monoplane and discover in what
way it resembles the body of a bird in build.

First, there is the long and comparatively narrow body, or
FUSELAGE, at the end of which is the rudder, corresponding to the
bird's tail. The chassis, or under carriage, consisting of
wheels, skids, &c., may well be compared with the legs of a bird,
and the planes are very similar in construction to the bird's
wings. But here the resemblance ends: the aeroplane does not
fly, nor will it ever fly, as a bird flies.

If we carefully inspect the wing of a bird--say a large bird,
such as the crow--we shall find it curved or arched from front to
back. This curve, however, is somewhat irregular. At the front
edge of the wing it is sharpest, and there is a gradual dip or
slope backwards and downwards. There is a special reason for
this peculiar structure, as we shall see in a later chapter.

Now it is quite evident that the inventors of aeroplanes have
modelled the planes of their craft on the bird's wing. Strictly
speaking, the word "plane" is a misnomer when applied to the
supporting structure of an aeroplane. Euclid defines a plane, or
a plane surface, as one in which, any two points being taken, the
straight line between them lies wholly in that surface. But the
plane of a flying machine is curved, or CAMBERED, and if one
point were taken on the front of the so-called plane, and another
on the back, a straight line joining these two points could not
possibly lie wholly on the surface.

All planes are not cambered to the same extent: some have a very
small curvature; in others the curve is greatly pronounced.
Planes of the former type are generally fitted to racing
aeroplanes, because they offer less resistance to the air than do
deeply-cambered planes. Indeed, it is in the degree of camber
that the various types of flying machine show their chief
diversity, just as the work of certain shipmasters is known by
the particular lines of the bow and stern of the vessels which
are built in their yards.

Birds fly by a flapping movement of their wings, or by soaring.
We are quite familiar with both these actions: at one time the
bird propels itself by means of powerful muscles attached to its
wings by means of which the wings are flapped up and down; at
another time the bird, with wings nicely adjusted so as to take
advantage of all the peculiarities of the air currents, keeps
them almost stationary, and soars or glides through the air.

The method of soaring alone has long since been proved to be
impracticable as a means of carrying a machine through the air,
unless, of course, one describes the natural glide of an
aeroplane from a great height down to earth as soaring. But the
flapping motion was not proved a failure until numerous
experiments by early aviators had been tried.

Probably the most successful attempt at propulsion by this method
was that of a French locksmith named Besnier. Over two hundred
years ago he made for himself a pair of light wooden paddles,
with blades at either end, somewhat similar in shape to the
double paddle of a canoe. These he placed over his shoulders,
his feet being attached by ropes to the hindmost paddles.
Jumping off from some high place in the face of a stiff breeze,
he violently worked his arms and legs, so that the paddles beat
the air and gave him support. It is said that Besnier became so
expert in the management of his simple apparatus that he was able
to raise himself from the ground, and skim lightly over fields
and rivers for a considerable distance.

Now it has been shown that the enormous extent of wing required
to support a man of average weight would be much too large to be
flapped by man's arm muscles. But in this, as with everything
else, we have succeeded in harnessing the forces of nature into
our service as tools and machinery.

And is not this, after all, one of the chief, distinctions
between man and the lower orders of creation? The latter fulfil
most of their bodily requirements by muscular effort. If a horse
wants to get from one place to another it walks; man can go on
wheels. None of the lower animals makes a single tool to assist
it in the various means of sustaining life; but man puts on his
"thinking-cap", and invents useful machines and tools to enable
him to assist or dispense with muscular movement.

Thus we find that in aviation man has designed the propeller,
which, by its rapid revolutions derived from the motive power of
the aerial engine, cuts a spiral pathway through the air and
drives the light craft rapidly forward. The chief use of the
planes is for support to the machine, and the chief duty of the
pilot is to balance and steer the craft by the manipulation of
the rudder, elevation and warping controls.

CHAPTER XVIII
A Great British Inventor of Aeroplanes

Though, as we have seen, most of the early attempts at aerial
navigation were made by foreign engineers, yet we are proud to
number among the ranks of the early inventors of heavier-than-air
machines Sir Hiram Maxim, who, though an American by birth, has
spent most of his life in Britain and may therefore be called a
British inventor.

Perhaps to most of us this inventor's name is known more in
connection with the famous "Maxim" gun, which he designed, and
which was named after him. But as early as 1894, when the
construction of aeroplanes was in a very backward state, Sir
Hiram succeeded in making an interesting and ingenious aeroplane,
which he proposed to drive by a particularly light steam-engine.

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