the base of the four-story-high red gas tank that had filled the balloons. Here a hundred corporate guests of the Laclede Gas Light Company drank champagne, nibbled canapés, and loosened their ties as the temperature climbed into the eighties. With opinions inflated by alcohol, the guests discussed the likely victor and, ever so discreetly, wagered one another. Some went for Alfred Le Blanc and Walther de Mumm in Isle de France , a balloon that had the backing of Frank Lahm, the American victor in 1906; others laughed at the idea; in their view it had to be the veteran Swiss crew of Theodore Schaeck and Paul Armbruster in Helvetia , the very same balloon that had carried Schaeck across the North Sea two years earlier. The Düsseldorf II was fancied by one or two, who reckoned that the fusion of German thoroughness in pilot Hans Gericke, and American chutzpah in copilot Sam Perkins, would be a winning formula. The more patriotic of the guests, having accepted a refill from one of the impressively attired waiters, tipped one of the three American balloons to win. Doubt it, they were smugly informed, haven’t you heard the news? Two of the U.S. entries, the two from St. Louis, right enough, were laid out on the field overnight without a tarpaulin covering. Feasted on by grasshoppers. Holes everywhere. They say they’ve patched them up but . . . well, if I were you, I’d save your money.
A detachment of soldiers from the Signal Corps ringed the balloons to prevent spectators from getting too close, and only a handful of reporters and Aero Club officials were allowed near enough to observe the crews’ final preparations. The correspondent from the St. Louis Globe-Democrat was curious to discover what supplies each balloon contained. He was startled to find that the European baskets were weighed down with alcohol: on board the Düsseldorf II was “a quart of whisky, four quarts of assorted wines, a bottle of cognac, twenty-four bottles of beer”; the second of the three German balloons, Germania , piloted by Hugo Von Abercron and his aide, August Blanckertz, carried “eighteen bottles of beer, six bottles of champagne and three bottles of Hoch [beer]”; the Helvetia was equipped with beer and whiskey; the Swiss crew of Emil Messner and Leon Givau-dan in Azurea showed the reporter a small wooden box, inside which were “two quarts of whisky and one bottle each of brandy, chartreuse, Benedictine and crème de menthe.” As for the two French crews . . . the reporter had never seen anything quite like it. While the American balloons had only the bare necessities—field glasses, hunting knives, water, and food such as fried chickens, boiled eggs, canned soups, and, in the case of Alan Hawley and Augustus Post, “specially prepared lozenges, one of which is said to be sufficient nourishment for one day”—the French baskets were regally furnished. Jacques Faure, a cousin of Hubert Latham’s, and his copilot, Ernest Schmolck, in Condor had “a mattress and a pillow, a camp stool, a medicine chest, a bottle of cologne . . . one dozen pint bottles of champagne, two quarts of whisky, one dozen pints of mineral water, three fried chickens, 2 pounds of ham, 2 pounds of roast beef, 1 pound brie cheese, three pots of cheese, one can of corned beef and two loaves of bread.” It was harder for the reporter to ascertain the exact contents of the Isle de France ’s basket, on account of Le Blanc being “very excitable and irritable,” but “case after case of champagne were opened and stacked on one side of the basket . . . to the number of about four dozen pint quarts.” Not surprisingly, added the newsman, Le Blanc also threw in a bottle of Bromo-Seltzer.
The only balloonist willing to furnish the St. Louis Globe-Democrat with a few words was Alan Hawley. He showed the reporter his energy lozenges (they were actually condensed-meat tablets), then explained the water anchor he had designed, which consisted of two life
A detachment of soldiers from the Signal Corps ringed the balloons to prevent spectators from getting too close, and only a handful of reporters and Aero Club officials were allowed near enough to observe the crews’ final preparations. The correspondent from the St. Louis Globe-Democrat was curious to discover what supplies each balloon contained. He was startled to find that the European baskets were weighed down with alcohol: on board the Düsseldorf II was “a quart of whisky, four quarts of assorted wines, a bottle of cognac, twenty-four bottles of beer”; the second of the three German balloons, Germania , piloted by Hugo Von Abercron and his aide, August Blanckertz, carried “eighteen bottles of beer, six bottles of champagne and three bottles of Hoch [beer]”; the Helvetia was equipped with beer and whiskey; the Swiss crew of Emil Messner and Leon Givau-dan in Azurea showed the reporter a small wooden box, inside which were “two quarts of whisky and one bottle each of brandy, chartreuse, Benedictine and crème de menthe.” As for the two French crews . . . the reporter had never seen anything quite like it. While the American balloons had only the bare necessities—field glasses, hunting knives, water, and food such as fried chickens, boiled eggs, canned soups, and, in the case of Alan Hawley and Augustus Post, “specially prepared lozenges, one of which is said to be sufficient nourishment for one day”—the French baskets were regally furnished. Jacques Faure, a cousin of Hubert Latham’s, and his copilot, Ernest Schmolck, in Condor had “a mattress and a pillow, a camp stool, a medicine chest, a bottle of cologne . . . one dozen pint bottles of champagne, two quarts of whisky, one dozen pints of mineral water, three fried chickens, 2 pounds of ham, 2 pounds of roast beef, 1 pound brie cheese, three pots of cheese, one can of corned beef and two loaves of bread.” It was harder for the reporter to ascertain the exact contents of the Isle de France ’s basket, on account of Le Blanc being “very excitable and irritable,” but “case after case of champagne were opened and stacked on one side of the basket . . . to the number of about four dozen pint quarts.” Not surprisingly, added the newsman, Le Blanc also threw in a bottle of Bromo-Seltzer.
The only balloonist willing to furnish the St. Louis Globe-Democrat with a few words was Alan Hawley. He showed the reporter his energy lozenges (they were actually condensed-meat tablets), then explained the water anchor he had designed, which consisted of two life
Similar Books
