Part 13

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.

As the writer of this book holds it to be his province, and his duty as a practical man to review both sides of public opinion respecting his speciality, he considers it right to state, that the representatives of the press, like the representatives of our constituencies in parliament, do not all take one and the same view about military ballooning; neither do superior officers or the rank-and-file, who, in these advanced days are quite capable of drawing their own conclusions.

A paragraph which I read in the Court Society Review, was to this effect.

“I have very little faith in military balloons for the purposes of observation. In the Soudan no atmospheric conditions, and many were tried, were found to be suitable, for even when the air was dead-still, and brilliantly clear, the balloon waggled to such an extent as to make telescopic observation impossible, or, at any rate, practically useless. At the Easter Monday fight, an infinitely more futile attempt was made to employ the balloon in a stiffish breeze, and the result was, of course, as worthless as the experiment was dangerous.

“All the same, for signalling, especially at night, captive balloons might be made of immense use.”

Secondly, we have another rather discouraging experience, which ought not to be forgotten or omitted in these pages.

It is in McClellan’s own story, about their doings on April 11th, 1862, and is rather amusing than complimentary to the cause I have so long advocated.

“I am just recovering,” the writer observes, “from a terrible scare. Early this morning I was awakened by a despatch from Fitz-John’s head-quarters, stating that Fitz had made an ascension in the balloon this morning, and that it had broken away and come to the ground some three miles south-west, which would be within the enemy’s lines.

“You can imagine how I felt. I at once sent off to the various pickets to find out what they knew, and tried to do something to save him, but the order had no sooner gone, than in walks Fitz, just as cool as usual. He had luckily come down near my own camp, after actually passing over that of the enemy.

“You may rest assured of one thing,” was the remark: “you won’t catch me in the confounded balloon, nor will I allow any other General in it.”

On the converse side, it should be mentioned that in a telegram received at Washington during the Civil War, it was stated, “that all the information received from _balloons_, deserters, prisoners, &c., agrees in the statement that the mass of the rebel troops were still in the immediate vicinity of Richmond, ready to defend it.”

As a pioneer myself in the service of military ballooning, I heartily wish that something more had been carried out in the decidedly important neighbourhood of Suakim.

I was constantly suggesting plans; among others, to take out an apparatus and holder for the generation of coal gas, feeling persuaded that at a short notice, an enterprising private firm would have sent out an equipment with the necessary men and coals, to generate gas on the old quick and cheap plan, in addition to the compressed hydrogen system. There are, certainly, some advantages in employing the lighter gas, but several counter and compensating results might be adduced on the other side, one of which is, that in a hot climate, pure hydrogen will escape quicker than the denser production, and, I have no hesitation in saying, that a small skin balloon behaves itself in a breeze with an infinitely less steady action, than a more enlarged surface with greater vertical power imparted to it, which is one out of many of those secrets of success, which men of long experience are well aware of, and I do believe that a certain amount of co-operation between civilian experts, and the military engineers would be attended with good results.

I am not referring particularly to the English school of balloonists, but to foreign corps as well.

It is a regrettable fact that one cannot perceive in the whole list of balloon transactions in warfare, either at home or abroad, any deeds that are at present conspicuously worth chronicling. The splendid exodus of hastily organised balloonists, chiefly sailors, who went out of Paris during the Franco-German War, can scarcely be called military ballooning.

There was no strategy, exceptional skill, or discoveries to mark and dignify their departure or descent; only a most valuable and timely postal and parcels delivery transmission.

This was excellent auxiliary aid, and altogether _sui generis_, but it was not manœuvring with the enemy or rendering fresh intelligence which could not be gained by ordinary scouts, I mean in a strictly military sense. The winged messengers (pigeons) were certainly helped in their work by having a lift up on their outward journey; but what we should like to hear of, when balloons show up in war time, is that something important has been seen and reported which would have escaped notice but for the argus-eyed aëronauts.

A considerable amount of bewilderment, as we have said, accompanies a novice’s first glance of the earth’s surface, when villages, fields, towns and fortresses, are seen under a new aspect, with minimised proportions reduced to the model size, and seen from above instead of horizontally.

It requires a trained observer to make heads, tails, and relative proportions out of the new map, and if any altitude has to be attained, very small machines will not do, they may be light and of little capacity, but they are unable to offer a powerful upward tug, which is indispensable for steadying the balloon when telescopic observations have to be made.

The action of diminutive machines of this kind may not inaptly be compared to the jerking, fitful movement, of certain small birds, such as a tomtit, or a titlark, as contrasted with the soaring power of an eagle, or the steadied poise of a hawk.

The balloon, under which Lord Wolseley took a bird’s-eye view, is described as “a magnificent spic and span new aërial machine, constructed of the new preparation of _bullock’s skin_, and capable of containing 10,000 feet of compressed gas,” by which is meant, I presume, 10,000 feet of hydrogen gas that has been compressed and subsequently liberated into the said balloon.

If I were questioned as to the value of this kind of material for the objects intended by the designers, I should, certainly, not speak disparagingly of it, because I think that skin may be very good in its way, but I believe that a certain quality of silk, all things considered, is more reliable, and if it is heavier than skin, it is more readily repaired in case of fracture, and would better resist the shrivelling effects of a hot atmosphere, and of sudden gusts of wind. Silk is also less tempting to the gnawing of insects.

If it is supposed that the use of skin is a new adaptation, I can remove any false impression of that sort by stating that half a century since, I saw and handled a huge balloon composed of similar animal substance, which was called Egg’s folly. The gunmaker had built an enormous fish shaped affair, and it had, fish like, an air bladder to assist it in rising and descending. I was asked to buy the lot which had been laid by for some years, but it was not to my taste; later on, however, after Mr. Barnum had brought over the dwarf, Tom Thumb, to this country, an exhibition was got up at the Surrey Zoological Gardens, and Mr. C. Green was asked to provide a suitable balloon to take up Tom Thumb for a captive ascent.

The air bladder then cropped up, as it would lift fifty or sixty pounds when filled with ordinary gas, and I well remember witnessing the ascent, and shaking hands with the occupant of the little car.

I was informed afterwards by the veteran himself, that Captain Currie, who was a frequent voyager at that time, wished to train and lose weight, so that the skin balloon would take him up, if filled with hydrogen instead of coal gas.

I do not think the trial came off, but I can vouch for it, that the so-called bullock’s skin is by no means a novel departure.

We thus learn that history repeats itself, even in an art which is practically little more than a century old.

If we turn from the balloon force at home, and direct a glance towards the continent, as much difference is to be observed in their aërostatic pretensions, as there is between our small and compact army, when compared with the millions of bayonets (and good ones no doubt) that are ready to do battle whenever the dogs of war shall be let loose for slaughter.

In England, preference is shown for exceedingly small bullock’s skin balloons.

In France they are cigar or cannon shaped, with steering power and propelling machinery attached. I am referring, now, to the war balloons at Meudon.

Germany inclines to medium sized spherical balloons, composed of silk by preference--and I think they are right--to the calico or muslin balloons in store at Chatham or Lidsing.

Russia, if we may believe newspaper accounts, is provided with an air torpedo, besides Montgolfier, and gas balloons. The torpedo air ship can take up eight hundredweight of dynamite, the application of which I have already pictured.

An American novelty consists of an electro dynamic air ship, in the form of a cigar cut lengthways, which presents a flat underside, and a rounded upper; it is constructed of seven independent cells, which are divided longitudinally, making fourteen separate compartments in all.

Among the attractions proposed for the Paris exhibition of 1889, is a captive balloon, having a capacity of 1,800,000 cubic feet, which will take up one hundred passengers.

Then comes the most wonderful invention of all, a balloon which is to surpass in speed the Flying Scotchman. The German Government is stated to have purchased this monster for a million marks, and the constructor is to have a handsome pension for life. I do not believe it!

Now, if these formidable rivals are bent on mischief, and find an opportunity of indulging their destructive propensities, there will be lively and sensational diversions overhead, no less than frightful work beneath, particularly if the torpedoes act their part as expected.

Many scientific men, and all the professional aëronauts, with whom I am acquainted, regard this tall talk, not altogether in a literal and serious light, but as a scare and exchange of swagger between those powers who desire to be thought most efficient in modern appliances for warfare. Be that as it may, there can be no doubt that vast sums of money have been expended, and extensive preparations made, in aërostatic material.

There is something about all this boasting and threatening which is calculated to disturb the serenity of susceptible persons, when they read of hundreds of pounds of dynamite and chemical compounds being cast down upon contending armies, and about forts blown up, especially when it is remembered that no shields or ramparts are ever raised, or dreamt of, to resist a vertical onslaught from the regions above. This mode of attack would, to all intents and purposes, prove a novelty, and the question is, whether the lieutenants of our far seeing general, who approves of new tactics, are prepared to resist this kind of thing should a detachment of air torpedoes swarm like wasps or locusts upon our numerically small army, or should they even seek out our tiny war balloons and demolish them with a fell swoop of explosives.

The bare idea of such an ignominious extinction brings us to the vital question of how such intruders could be sent to the right about, or brought low by arms of precision.

Lieutenant B. Baden-Powell, in his able lecture at the Royal United Service Institution, took the danger into consideration; not I think under any apprehension about the descent of dynamite shells, but simply of the customary missiles which are discharged from cannon and small arms. We may infer that air torpedoes and such like were not dreaded.

Mr. Baden-Powell starts from an apt and thrilling commencement when he says--

“First then, the chance of being wrecked by shots from the enemy.

“It must be remembered,” he goes on to say, “that the balloon would generally be some way behind the first line, and that the enemy would hardly, especially during the heat of battle, pay much attention to it. It is well to remember that if only hit by a few bullets it would not be much damaged, and could be quickly repaired. Both at Frankfort and at Frankenthal the balloons were penetrated by bullets, at the latter place by nine, but the balloon remained up three-quarters of an hour after. In some experiments made at Tours, a balloon was penetrated by bullets at 1,000 yards, but the escape of gas was very slow, and the balloon remained up some time longer.

“_Secondly_--and now comes a case in point which should not be lightly passed over, it is this--

“In 1880 the Siege Operations’ Committee made an experiment at Dungeness with rather more disastrous results for the balloon. An eight-inch howitzer was directed on a captive balloon 2,000 yards off, and 800 feet high. The first shot was unsuccessful, the exact range not being known. The second shell, however, burst just in front of the balloon and tore it open. But even then it took fifteen minutes to descend, so that the aëronauts would have been safe.” Later tests have also taken place.

Many persons would think, and as many more might argue with some show of common sense on their side, that the actual safety of a party of balloonists after their machine had been torn open by a shell from an eight-inch howitzer was perilous in the extreme; but the lecturer had no such fears probably, as he went on with unmoved visage, I daresay, to remark that “bullets made of spongy platinum had been suggested as a means of igniting the hydrogen in a balloon by mere contact.”