Part 13

It was said that the dissolution of the corps was due more immediately to the displeasure of Napoleon at the performance of a balloon which ascended at his coronation, with a large crown suspended beneath it, which travelled all the way to Rome, and deposited part of the crown on the tomb of Nero.

MILITARY BALLOONING DURING THIS CENTURY.

After the Peace of Amiens was concluded in March 1802, military aëronauts were less heard of, while professional and scientific air explorers came more prominently into notice.

In 1812, the Russians constructed a huge balloon at Moscow, which was to hover over the French army and rain forth shells and explosives, but their expectations rose higher than their balloons, which refused to move off the ground.

The French soldiers found this in the Castle of Voronzoff bearing many thousand pounds of gunpowder, which were to have been launched upon them.

General Count Philip de Segur says:--“This prodigious balloon was constructed by command of Alexander, not far from Moscow, under the direction of a German artificer.”

In 1815 a balloon reconnaissance was made at Antwerp, and in 1826 the subject was again mooted by the French, and a balloon was sent to Algiers, but it was never disembarked.

The Russians are said to have tried experiments at Sebastopol in 1854.

The French again used balloons in the Italian campaign of 1859; they employed the civilian aëronaut Godard, and a useful ascent was made the day before Solferino in a fire balloon.

When the Civil War in America broke out several balloons were used in the operations. On October 4th, 1861, an aëronaut named La Montaine ascended from McClellan’s camp on the Potomac; he was enabled to make observation of their position and movements, and afterwards returned to his own lines and communicated results which were declared to be of the utmost importance.

Later on the Federals instituted a regular balloon corps, of which Colonel Beaumont, R.E., wrote an interesting account in the Royal Engineer Papers. The balloons were of two sizes, one of 13,000 cubic feet capacity, the other double that size, but the large size was found most suitable, a fact which our military balloonists should not overlook in their desire to possess very light and small balloons for easy transport.

The American balloons were made of the best silk, the upper part being composed of three or four thicknesses; this was capable of retaining sufficient gas for an ascent a fortnight after inflation, a statement which can more readily be credited than the French accounts about preserving it for _three months_.

Hydrogen was used for inflation, and generated in the old-fashioned way with scrap iron and sulphuric acid.

In this chapter of facts and dates I have drawn freely on the exhaustive work called “_Astra Castra_,” by Lieutenant Hatton Turnor, formerly of the 60th Rifles; also from the indefatigable gleanings and able lecture by Lieutenant Baden-Powell of the Scots Guards.

De Fonvielle’s “Adventures in the Air” have furnished valuable information and incidents worth mentioning; Lieutenant Baden-Powell has so cleverly compressed his matter that for the sake of brevity I am induced at times to quote literally.

Two of the American balloons and two generators were taken each on a four horsed waggon, with one two horsed acid cart.

Earthworks could be distinguished at a distance of five miles, while the piquets and supports of the enemy were distinctly seen. A telegraphic wire was sometimes attached to the balloon, so that the aëronaut could at once communicate with the general, or even, as was done one time, to the Government at Washington. Some photographs were also taken of the enemy’s position.

The aëronaut and the general each had maps similarly divided into small squares, which were numbered, whereby the communications were simplified.

The “Times” correspondent said of the battle of Chickahominy: “During the whole of the engagement, Professor Lowe’s balloon hovered over the Federal lines at an altitude of 2,000 feet, and maintained successful telegraphic communication with General McClellan’s head-quarters.”

In an attack on Mississippi Island, No. 10, Engineer Aëronaut Allan, ascended and directed the artillery fire, communicating the effect of each shot.

In July 1862, the first military balloon experiments in England took place at Aldershot, and, as I had the honour of accomplishing them, I will leave Lieut. Baden-Powell to allude to the events in his own words.

“The aëronaut, Mr. Coxwell, was employed to bring one of his balloons which was filled at the gas-works, and made several captive ascents, the highest being 2,200 feet. Colonel Beaumont said that no large movement of troops could take place within a radius of ten miles without being seen. Later on, more experiments were made, a one-inch rope being used as cable.

“When the war between France and Germany broke out, Mr. Coxwell went to manage some war balloons for the Germans. He formed two companies (two officers and forty-two men) at Cologne, and his assistant went on to Strasbourg, but that town capitulated before much service was rendered.”

During the siege of Paris, balloons, it will be remembered, were made use of in a more regular and extensive manner, and with most important results.

At first, two old balloons were anchored at Montmartre and Montsouris, as observatories, to watch the Prussians. They apparently accomplished but little, although one or two new ideas were introduced. The messages from the balloons were put in a little box which was attached to the cable by a ring, so that the observations were delivered straight to those who held the rope.

Every twenty-four hours, six ascents were made, four by day, and two by night, the latter to observe the camp fires, etc., and it was proposed to use a search electric light.

When the Parisians found themselves cut off from all communication with the outer world, balloons were naturally suggested as a means of escape.

Several experienced aëronauts were in Paris as well as a few balloons.

The first aëronaut, Duruof, left in a leaky machine, which owing to its imperfect condition, was sent up like a projectile, as we are informed by De Fonvielle. It described a parabola like that of a bombshell, and by sacrificing seven hundredweight of ballast, the descent took place nineteen miles from the Place St. Pierre, in the department of Eure, not far from the Prussians, but still beyond their range.

The “Ville de Florence” took, by way of trial, the first pigeons intended for return with despatches. Paris learned, with as much satisfaction as if it had been a victory, the return of the first aërial messenger.

Louis Godard had two small balloons, neither sufficient for the purpose of escape, but he fixed one below the other, and made a very successful voyage in the “Etats-Unis.”

The last ready made balloon was the “Céleste,” which was the first to take post cards.

The Government then ordered a number of new balloons to be at once constructed, they were turned out at the chief railway stations, which for the time being were no longer used as such.

The balloons were made of strong cambric, oiled, and of about 70,000 cubic feet capacity; they were filled with coal gas, and could carry a load of 2,000 pounds, including 600 pounds of ballast and 1,000 pounds of despatches.

The first of these bore Gambetta, he was accompanied by his intimate friend, M. Spuller. The political results of this voyage are well known.

One balloon travelled to Norway. Many were fired at, but few injured. Three balloons fell into the hands of the enemy near Paris, and two in Germany. Two were lost at sea, each manned by a sailor.

The average distance travelled, was about 180 miles, and the speed varied from seven to fifty miles an hour, and in one instance, eighty miles.

During four months, sixty-six balloons left Paris, of which fifty-four were specially made by the administration of posts and telegraphs.

One hundred-and-sixty persons were carried over the Prussian lines.

Nine tons of despatches, or 3,000,000 letters were successfully conveyed to their destinations. 360 pigeons were taken up, of which, however, only fifty-seven returned to Paris, these conveyed, as Lieut. Baden-Powell reminds us, 100,000 messages.

Wilfrid de Fonvielle gives us a vivid and thrilling account of how he left Paris in a balloon.

The members of the scientific commission, he informs us, conceived the idea of sending off balloons by night. He took his departure on the 20th of November; he was apprehensive, owing to the weather, of some crushing catastrophe.

“The ‘Egalité’ began to show its graceful form and bright colours. The sun was shining on the golden sphere, which the wind was gracefully oscillating. I was looking on the clouds, which had a direction inclining somewhere towards Prussian soil, when I heard people shouting.

“A large hole had been made by the copper end of the pipe in the graceful fabric. It was too late to think of mending it, and of ascending afterwards before sunset.”

On the following morning the weather was horrid. After many delays, owing to this cause, De Fonvielle and his companions started. They saw desolated fields, disappearing one after another. He recognized different parts where he had wandered during so many happy years. Twice the Seine was crossed, that noble Seine! where German horses will never drink! and he could see distinctly where his old balloon had been taken by German hands.

He was looking at that spot when the first shot was heard, but the balloon was more than 5,000 feet high. In less than two hours they reached Louvain.

A few days after this successful journey, another nocturnal balloon went up on a moonless night. A brave sailor, named Prince, was the sole occupant of the car.

Next day, at dawn, some fishermen on the north coast of Scotland, saw a globe disappear towards the west and sink in the ocean. A poor mother and two sisters bewailed the loss of the unfortunate waif.

In June 1871, the English Government appointed a committee, consisting of Colonel Beaumont, R.E., Lieut. Grover, R.E., and Sir F. Abel, to enquire into the use of balloons for warfare, and as Lieut. Baden-Powell, in his lecture at the Royal United Service Institution, went into the dates and progress made in military ballooning, I shall regard him as a reliable authority in these matters.

In April 1879, the English Government instituted an official balloon committee, consisting of Colonel Noble, R.E., Sir F. Abel, and Captain Lee, R.E., with whom was associated Captain Elsdale, R.E., and Captain Templer, of the Middlesex Militia, the last mentioned having had considerable experience in ballooning.

Experiments were conducted at Woolwich, and four balloons were made by the Royal Engineers of specially woven fine _calico_, varnished.

A portable furnace and boiler for the manufacture of hydrogen gas was devised similar in principle to the one used by the French in 1793, _but the apparatus did not prove satisfactory_.

And who could expect that a mere imitation after the lapse of eighty-six years, would do much good or credit to the British army. Had a competent man been appointed consulting aëronaut, he would have pointed out that the use of bricks, tiles, and red hot turnings, was resorted to in France as a necessity when sulphur and sulphuric acid were scarce, but as none of the above named officers had ever ascended with me, or had my instructions, I could only note, with regret, what appeared to be a useless expenditure of money and time, and as to proper and suitable material. I had in my store rooms at Seaford, Sussex, a large quantity of stout, pure silk, made expressly for balloons, and could have turned out for Government, a typical war balloon, which would have been creditable to our country, and been in every way preferable to _calico_.

A few days after the first experiment, an unforeseen adventure happened as one of the war balloons was being towed, attached to a cart.

The cable snapped and the balloon disappeared in the clouds!

In October, one of the balloons was tried free at a review on Woolwich Common, but the wind was unfavourable.

The next year, the “Crusader” figured at the Brighton volunteer review, successfully.

In September 1880, a whole company of Engineers (the 24th) went for instruction in ballooning to Aldershot, and many experiments were made.

English military ballooning, as I have pointed out received a sudden check when the “Saladin” was lost in the year 1881.

If we turn to the French, we read quite a different story. They established, in 1872, another aëronautical school. An annual grant of £10,000 was made, since then, the establishment has increased.

Their balloons are spherical, ten metres in diameter, made of the best silk, and covered with a varnish which renders them so gas-tight, that they can remain inflated for a month. So they assert.

Twenty out of forty balloons had already been made.

For captive ascents a kite screen is used. I suggested something of this kind twenty-six years since, but I have now a more simple and safer plan, with others for signalling etc., should they ever be enquired after or wanted.

AIR TORPEDOES AND BOMBSHELLS.

If there is one branch of modern strategy which is likely to be watched with keen interest during the next Continental war it will be that of military ballooning. For some time we have heard of such wonderful preparations in this line on the other side of the Channel that the public, both at home and abroad, will be moved by anxious expectancy to take note whether the steering gas bags and air torpedoes revolutionize warfare by developing a more easy way of striking hostile forces, namely, from a vertical position, in which they are so frequently vulnerable. The aims of those who would merely employ balloons to see what is going on behind the hills, and how their opponents are disposed, seem insufficient to satisfy the ambition of foreign engineers. A Frenchman has supplied the Russians with an air torpedo that can be directed, so we are told, with the accuracy of a submarine machine. It is to take up eight hundredweight of dynamite, which can be discharged on the heads, and on the magazines and fortresses of their foes, so as to make short work with them by blowing them up sky-high without subjecting the attacking party to risk, owing to the remarkable guiding power of their aërial cruiser, which is to strike and glide away with marvellous rapidity, either as it emerges from the clouds, or springs unseen above the smoke of battle, to let fall its destructive cargo when least expected. All this sounds very terrific and smart in theory, but the question is, can it be done with the tact and certainty which we are asked to believe? From an aërostatic standpoint such an enterprise would entirely depend upon aërial navigation having been solved. Certain inventors avow, and perhaps imagine, that this consummation has been settled already by those preliminary canters near Paris of which we heard so much two years since. Now, it is not for me, or any other practical man, to say that the pretensions put forth for “the conquest of the air” are visionary; but this I do say, that the alleged movements of the cigar-shaped balloons have not warranted us in concluding that the art of steering and propelling has been satisfactorily mastered. Had it been otherwise, how is it that so magnificent an achievement has not been forthwith applied to the more noble and remunerative arts of peace and commerce, instead of being shelved for the horrors of war? The moment air ships can be directed, the probability is they will be seized upon immediately to bring about results far more creditable than the annihilation of our fellow creatures.

Secondly. A bombardment from above might, and possibly would, involve a contest in the air. If these agents are available for attack they may be constructed for defensive objects, for retaliation, and for reprisals. One may swoop down like a hawk, but another may rise up like a rocket and bring down its adversary like the stick. And how about the latest arms of precision, chain-shot, and shrapnel? A gas-inflated observatory can often be kept well in the rear in a more secure captive state, but if these flying torpedoes are going in for close quarters, as they must to “spot” their victims, the hazards will be so great that pressed men, rather than volunteers, will have to be forced into the empyrean; and, so far as my experience goes among officers, soldiers, and civilians, I never yet noticed any exuberant bellicose tendency, or display of pugnacity, while exploring in mid-air.

I once took up a gentleman who was said to be very daring, and among his accomplishments was a proficiency with the gloves; a friend of his who was with us thought fit in a moment of pardonable elation to indulge in playful sparring with the reputed amateur boxer. I was rather surprised to notice that he evinced an apparent distaste, and even incompetency, for this sort of thing when aloft. It certainly might have been that the narrow confines of a wicker basket were not sufficiently capacious for manœuvring, or that a passing nervousness took all the fight out of him. He protested against his friend’s familiarity, while casting an appealing glance at me. “Recollect,” he cried, “where we are;” but on reaching _terra firma_ I observed that his facial expression was decidedly more combative, and that he was quite ready then for a friendly exchange of taps; this, with other incidents I could mention, has led me to conclude that the upper air is not altogether suitable or provocative for belligerent performances.

By way of illustration, I may state that Green more than forty years since was engaged to attend with one of his balloons at a park down in Staffordshire, where there was to be an experiment with dropping shells from a battery affixed to the hoop, but no one was to go up, and the aëronaut’s services were only required for the preparatory work, as the long range committee preferred to manage matters themselves, so far as the adjustment and discharge of the petards went. They selected a central spot in a wood as the area for their intended demolishment, but on setting the balloon free they neglected Green’s hint to look out for a veering current, in case they had not provided a remedy, as he had, if his services had been retained for the most critical part of the undertaking. Well, the experimentalists disregarded the expert, but when the missiles were discharged they flew bang at friendly spectators instead of the camping ground of an ideal enemy, thus causing a helter-skelter stampede, including a bevy of policemen--in short, the whole affair was a fiasco; and it might have been so easily prevented, as Green’s foresight had led him to think of a compensating plan to cause the balloon to go straight in the desired course; but the enthusiasts did not believe that a past master was necessary for aëronautic transactions, and it will not be surprising if some of the military adventurers to whom we have been referring find themselves similarly situated.

Last year I read that two intrepid Frenchmen made a trip to our shores from Cherbourg, and threw down as they passed some yachts near the coast a number of cork balls painted white, just, sportively of course, to see how they would act as the lightest and most harmless of grenades, without, as we may charitably conclude, any ulterior designs such as the First Napoleon is credited with when the aërial flotilla at Boulogne was talked about. But, really, in the present day, when the blowing up of ironclads is a recognized feature of warfare, and when torpedo boats can dive and make straightway at a man-of-war to strike below the belt, it is time to be on the _qui vive_, and though aëronauts may feel no great alarm about an unexpected visit from a torpedo fleet, knowing, as they do, that the air is more than eight hundred times lighter than water, and that the difficulties to be first surmounted are proportionately great, still, there is no denying that the route overhead is open to all nations, and that a scare, lest any unwelcome guests should arrive, has actually been felt as to the possibility of their turning up from beneath the Channel. We know that John Bull and all true Britons would rather face an adversary from above, than if he were to crawl and pounce upon us from below.

But at present we need not quake as to the high or subway route.

MILITARY BALLOONING IN THE YEAR OF JUBILEE.

One of the latest and most interesting phases of this subject relates to Lord Wolseley’s maiden ascent from the grounds at Lidsing, near Chatham, and to various active preparations on the Continent which have a character of their own, and are essentially dissimilar to the experiments in Great Britain.

An illustrious man undergoing his initiation in the balloon car, forms an event which is not of every day occurrence, and must prove very encouraging to the intrepid engineer officers, and also to the general public, who like to see the leading authority go now and again to the front for the sake of thoroughly inspecting, and of obtaining some practical acquaintance with any new branch of science which may be on trial.

The General’s declaration that “he believed _himself_ in novelties,” must have produced conflicting opinions in the minds of many more conservative brother officers; but what must have been the effect of the next assertion? namely, “the more novelties the better.”

Lord Wolseley believed in what Napoleon said: “You must change your tactics frequently.”

The first impression made by his ascent of 500 feet, elicited the General’s approval.

In the course of a conversation with one of his staff, Lord Wolseley stated that “had he been able to employ balloons in the earlier stages of the Soudan campaign, the affair would not have lasted as many months as it did years.”

We get therefore a very high testimony as to the value of the balloon for military objects, and as the exploits of our war balloons do not amount, at present, to anything particularly noteworthy, the General’s encouraging remarks will have an excellent effect, it may fairly be presumed.

The most recent effort in this line, near Dover, was not successful.

The balloon “Sentinel” was filled and essayed to watch the volunteers, but was forced to retire with the most eccentric capers--owing to the freaks of rude Boreas, which was, after all, merely imparting useful instruction, though not particularly pleasing, probably, to the officer who occupied the seat of honour.

It is, doubtless, a matter to rejoice over, that he was not blown out over the adjacent coast line; had he been driven away down Channel in a small skin balloon under the influence of a north-easterly wind, he might have touched the extreme corner of the French coast, or been sent down betwixt the Channel Islands.

Happily, however, there was no fresh fatality to lament over, and the instructions imparted by the clerk of the weather as to the impracticability of captive ascents during strong winds will not be lost, and may prove of the greatest importance, so that it is well worth while referring to it as a warning for future caution.