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1907. May 31. Friday at Baodeck.         16
      Herald New York. 10 Mar 1907

How I Brought The Cup to AMERICA
   By Lieut. Fran

THE first annual contest for the aeronautic cup offered by Mr. James Gordon Bennett started from the Tuileries Garden, in Paris, on September 30, 1906.
     Sixteen balloons, representing seven different countries - the united States, Great Britain, France, Belgium, Germany, Italy and Spain-were entered, and in spite of the difficulties due to time, distance and expense, every one of the sixteen started on the thirtieth-truly a good record and one seldom equaled in other sports.
     Less than a year ago Mr. Gordon Bennett placed a cup in the hands of the Aero Club of France, which gladly assumed the responsibility for organizing the first of these contests. how well it acquitted itself of its task is attested by the success achieved at the Tuileries Garden on September 30. Sixteen balloons, requiring in all more than a million cubic feet of as, were prepared, filled and started off in the presence of 200,000 spectators, without a pause, without a hitch, exactly according to the published programme.
     The first balloon started at four P. M. Long before that hour the gardens and the Place de la Concorde adjoining were packed with a curious and interested crowd. Several bands were on hand to enliven the occasion. Countless numbers of toy balloons, of inflated figures of men and animals, made out of goldbeaters' skin, were released during the two hours preceding the start of the first balloon. Finally a flock of carrier pigeons was set free. All this, combined with the natural gayety of a French holiday gathering, made a fascinating and long to be remembered scene.
     Lots had been drawn for the order of starting, and Signor Vonwiller, of the Italian Club, had drawn first place. At exactly  four o'clock his beautiful silk balloon, the Elfe, rose slowly and gracefully  from the starting point beside [[?]] little pond at the upper end of the Gardens. Passing over the Place de la Concorde, he started directly west. Then, in the designated order and at five minute intervals, followed the fifteen remaining balloons. None drew more applause than Santos-Dumont, who, true to his mechanical ingenuity, went up with a six horse power motor buzzing away, driving two horizontal propellers destined to give a vertical motion to his balloon, thus dispensing with his having to throw out ballast.
     My balloon, the united  States, representing the Aero Club of America, was the twelfth to start. My companion was Major Henry B. Hersey, of the Rough Riders of 1898 and at present chief executive of the Wellman polar Expedition. We took our places in the car at ten minutes to five, were "lead" to the starting point by the squad of balloon  troops for that day, and at five minutes to five we left the earth. Like all the preceding balloons, we went  directly west, following the Seine for a distance, passing near the Eiffel Tower, across the Longchamp race track, where the crowd was  just breaking up after the races; across the Seine again at St. Cloud and out into the country, keeping at an altitude of 600 to 1,200 feet. For the first two hours we had four other balloons quite near us. One, [[?]] its yellow color, we easily recognized is one of the three German balloons; another, from its elongated shape, we knew to be the English balloon Britannia, [[?]] by Mr. Rolls. As night came on they disappeared one by one, till, finally, at [[?]] P. M., all were lost to view.

Value of the Speaking Trumpet.

     As long as daylight lasted we had no trouble whatever in tracing our course on the maps we carried, but after dark this became more difficult, and we had to descend on the speaking trumpet. By calling down to the villagers we could make ourselves heard, and generally received a reply. Before eleven we passed over Lileux, the 300-foot guide rope just grazing the tops of the houses. By this time we had undergone a decided change in direction and were travelling northwest. It was evident before leaving Paris that we could strike the sea, so I had taken the precaution to carry along a dozen wooden loops, about a foot in diameter, [[?]] as I emptied the first ballast bags [[?]] their and I tied a hoop in the mouth of each one and then attached a cord to the hoop. This contrivance is caused a cone anchor, and is taken as a precaution if there is a chance of being carried out to sea. By trailing it in the water the progress of the balloon is retarded, thus giving a vessel an opportunity to overtake the balloon.
     At 11:17 P. M. we slipped quietly out over the English Channel, the end of the guide rope just off the water, and began the second and most interesting part of our trip. Our direction on reaching the Channel would have taken us out to the southwestern extremity of England, but again the wind veered and we were travelling west of north.
     To describe the beauty of the Channel crossing would require the pen of a master. With a full moon shining overhead, an almost cloudless sky, the balmy air and, except for the gentle breaking of the waves beneath us, not a sound to disturb the perfect calm nothing could be more charming, nothing more delightful. With occasional reference to the compass and north star, we knew our direction was good, so had no uneasiness on that score. Sitting in the bottom of the car on the ballast bags, occasionally looking over to see if the guide rope was clear of the water, if not, throwing out a scoopful of sand to send us up a few feet, we quietly ate our long postponed dinner of sandwiches, chicken, eggs, fruit, coffee and other good things which we had laid, in before starting. Once a little sailing vessel slipped under us and disappeared in the night. This was the only sign of life we saw in the Channel. The revolving light on the coast at Havre was on our right at the start, but we soon left it behind.

Crossing the Channel.
     At 2:30 A. M. a revolving light appeared ahead of us, and we knew we were approaching the English shore. On coming closer we were able to recognize that this light was on a lightship. An hour later we were over the terra firma of old England. Soon afterward the lights of a large city appeared on our left. We knew this must be Chi Chester, in the county of Sussex.
     Then the friendly moon deserted us, and heavy mists covered up the lowlands, so that we lost sight of the earth, catching only an occasional glimpse of the black tops of the trees under the end of the guide rope. The first color of dawn showed itself in the east before five o'clock, but, due to the mist and fog, it was past six before we were able to distinguish clearly the ground beneath us. We were forcibly impressed with the fact that the English farmer is not an early riser, for the loud and continued shouts of my companion did not bring forth a response till past seven. Then we learned that we had crossed the counties of Sussex and Hants in the fog, and were then over Berkshire.
     All morning we journeyed up over England, past Warwick Castle, past Stratford-on-Avon. Then the warm sun came out,  heating and expanding the gas in the balloon and carrying us higher and higher in the air.
     At two o'clock in the afternoon we had reached an altitude of 10,000 feet. As we rose higher our direction changed to east of north. From the direction of clouds at a lower level than ourselves, and of the smoke at the ground, we knew that the lower currents of air would take us further to the west, so we started down in hopes of being able to change our direction sufficiently to take us into Scotland. A few minutes more brought us to the brown and barren moors, and then the coast of the North Sea loomed up straight ahead of us. It was necessary to hasten the descent, so I opened the valve and allowed a good supply of gas to escape. Down we came, till the guide rope was trailing on the moors. We knew it was just a question of minutes till we should be at the sea, but as the wind had changed slightly we hoped to continue long enough to reach a more settled district, and possibly a railroad station. A few minutes more and we had reached the edge of the moors; then a little railroad appeared to the right, running along the coast. Another minute and a small station was in sight. A farmhouse ahead looked inviting, so we decided to land. But I had overestimated the gripping power of my anchor, for on striking the ground it tore up a little sod, then let go, and the wind carried us on. A stone wall served only to twist the shank of the anchor.
     Finally, due to the loss of gas, the car struck the ground in a field a half mile past the house, jumped up just high enough to clear a stone wall, came down again, turned on its side, dragged a few yards after the tugging balloon, then stopped. On striking the second time. I pulled the "rip cord," which tears a large strip out of the top of the balloon. The gas rushed out and our good steed which had carried us so many miles lost his strength and lay us stretched out on the meadow, a flat and empty bag.                                                         
     Before extricating myself from the ropes, ballast bags and other impedimenta, I looked at my watch-exactly minutes past three P.M. We had been in the air twenty-two hours and seventeen minutes, and according to the official measurements of the committee, published since, we had covered over 47 kilometers, or about 410 miles, in a straight line from Paris. Necessarily the actual distance travelled was considerably longer than this, as our course had not been a straight line at all.
     Our reception by the goodly people of Fyling Dales (the name of the manor) was a most cordial one. The squire himself chanced to be in an adjoining field and hastened up to inquire if we were injured. The amazement of the tenants was amusing. As the squire said, "An earthquake could not have caused more exitement in the neighborhood than had the landing of our balloon"
     With the cheerful assistance of willing hands the "United States" was folded, packed on to a wagon, and we were off for the railroad station, a mile away. Fyling Hall was the name of the place, fifteen miles north of Scarborough, in the northern part of the county of York. In the immediate neighborhood, in fact, within sight of our landing spot, were places with familiar and interesting names, such as the Convent of Whitby and Robin Hood's Bay. Gladly would we have stopped a day or two in this quaint and attractive district, but we were drawn still more strongly toward London and news of the other balloons. 
     As neither of us had had a wink's sleep the night before, we stopped at York for a night's rest. Next morning I was awakened by vigorous pounding on my door. "Wake up and look at this!" It was Major Hersey, and from the unusually cheery ring in his voice I suspected good news. The morning papers he brought did indeed report us as the winners, although they failed to account for Mr. Rolls, of the English club. On our arrival in London that afternoon all doubts were dispelled when we read the classing of the first four balloons in the following order:-The "United States," first; Signor Vonwiller, of the Italian club, second, landing at Hull, some forty-five miles behind us; Mr. Rolls, third, and Count de la Vaulx, of the French club, fourth. Nine of the sixteen balloons had not attempted the Channel crossing, but landed on French soil.
     In marked contrast was our crossing of the Channel that night on our return to Paris compared with the beautiful crossing in the "United States" two nights before. A violent southwest wind made the little cross channel steamer perform as only little steamers can, and made us wish regretfully for our aerial craft.
     Our welcome in Paris was a most hearty one. First came the sleepless[[?]] reports, then our friends, the of the French club, then dozens of telegrams, cables and letters. The following evening the Aero Club gave a dinner presided at by Prince Roland Bonaparte, president of the International Federation of Aero Clubs. After dinner we were treated to an exhibition of moving pictures of the start at the Tuileries, four days before.

Furnishings of a Balloon Car.
     To one who has never had the pleasure of a trip in a balloon it may be interesting to know what we carried with us in the car. In the bottom was a layer of straw to keep us warm. This proved entirely unnecessary. About a third of the space was occupied at the start with the sand used for ballast. This was in twenty-nine sacks, weighing over forty pounds each.  Our "navigating" instruments consisted of a registering barometer for telling the height above sea level at any time; a statoscope, which records immediately an ascending or descending movement; two electric lamps for reading the instruments and maps at night (matches and fire of any kind are absolutely forbidden in a balloon, due to the danger of exploding the gas); numerous maps of France, England, Germany and even of all Europe, for a balloonist never knows exactly where the wind may take him; a compass and a couple of life preservers for use in case we dropped into the sea. The anchor, guide rope and balloon cover were attached on the outside of the car. A dozen blank forms, to be thrown overboard at intervals, where intended to assist in tracing our course. Whoever picked them up was to fill in the time and place and mail them to the Aero Club. 
 Six of those I threw out were afterward received from different points in France and England. Extra cord, heavy clothing, provisions, including a patent bottle from which we were able to drink steaming hot tea the following morning, completed the equipment.  
     A tube of oxygen, for use at high altitudes where the air is rare, was left behind at the last minute, as we realized we should not have to go so very high. A supply of German money, which I had taken the precaution to obtain the day before the race, was of no use, and we had to take advantage of the offer of the good English squire of Fyling Dales. He loaned us enough English money to take us to York, where we were able to change our French money.
     The winning of the cup by a representative of the American club places the responsibility on that club for organizing the race next year, and already plans are being laid.
     Interest in ballooning as a sport has received an impetus which has already carried it to the front, and now the practical side is appearing. 
 It is interesting to note that six of the sixteen balloons in this year's contest carried regular army officers, either as pilots or as assistants. The balloon holds an important place in warfare. Steps which are now being taken to develop ballooning in our own army show that we are taking the matter seriously and are beginning to appreciate that we are behind other nations along this line. Practically all European armies have their balloon corps. Troops are regularly incorporated for this service, and by constant practice and experimenting they have brought the military balloon to such a point of perfection that its usefulness cannot be doubted. History has already demonstrated its value in the past. Thirty-

Transcription Notes:
Took first portion of this same article from page 42 (where first part is fully visible) and pasted here. Later columns not visible on page 42, ARE visible here, so built off the transcription from page 42 here, starting at the top of second column with "pulled the "rip cord,"". [[image portrait of Lieut. Frank P. Lahm]] [[image drawing of hot air balloon in flight with two men in basket]] [[image of partial map of western portions of England and France with 16 competitor names: 1.Sig. Vonwiller 2.Captain VonAbercron 3.Comte de la Vaulx 4.Lieutenant Herrera 5.C.S. Rolls 6.M. Santos Dumont 7.Van den Driesche 8.Herr Scherle 9.Comte de St.Victor 10.Senor Salmanca 11.F.H. Butler 12.Lieutenant F.P. Lahm 13.Baron Von Hewald 14. M. Jacques Balsan 15.Captain Kidelan 16.Prof. Huntington