CHAPTER FOUR:
THE NOT SO PERFIDIOUS ALBION.
3:45 PM, Thursday; August/19/1847.

At a Carriage-Works in the town of Chard, Somerset, England.

John Stringfellow hastily wiped grease and dirt off his hands using a somewhat frazzled and stained rag, the only one immediately available; which he speedily tucked out of sight
upon use in his leather-apron pouch and thrust out his right hand in sincere and warm greeting, smiling appreciatively as he firmly clasped Professor Valcour's extended hand and gave it a vigorous shake.
"Greetings! I am John Stringfellow, I have been expecting you. I am delighted to see that both of you have arrived in good health. Your timing is excellent. It is about quarter-to-four now. Plenty of time to show you about." John Stringfellow remarked, expressing genuine delight, though in a typically subdued English manner. "Until you sent that letter, two months ago, informing me of your desire to visit me today, I had not expected to see such a distinguished and renowned visitor as yourself, a professor of aerial navigation at that, set foot in my humble workshop. Is this your first visit to this part of England, Mister Valcour?"
Charles Valcour nodded, "It is
my first ever visit to England, Monsieur - ahhh - Mister Stringfellow. I promise you it won't be my last." He paused to gesture at his wife beside him. "Both of us departed Bristol on one of those steam trains, a little before noon today, getting off at a town called Taunton where we were able to get a carriage and driver to take us to this town. It took us an hour to get here from that place. I applaud you Englishmen for the excellent quality of your Macadam roads."
Paying no apparent attention to the sincere praise, the 48-year-old British craftsman immediately shifted his attention to Charlotte Valcour, flickering her a smile that was more generous. "And you must be Madame Valcour." he commented, as he slowly bowed his head, leaning over to plant a kiss on her extended gloved hand; part of his well-trimmed muttonchops and connecting mustache making contact with the glove's silk fabric. "Thank you for gracing me and my staff with your visit. We do not have many women, especially ones as lovely as yourself, setting foot on these premises. Is this your first trip to England as well?"
There was a hint of a patronizing grin as she politely shook her head,
"Thank you for your compliment, Mister Stringfellow. And you have such gentle-looking eyes. and I compliment you on keeping your wavy graying hair well-groomed in such a work site as this." She said,
throwing out some flippant praise,
stifling an urge to giggle. "No, this is not my first visit. I attended
a Quaker sponsored academy for women over twenty-years-ago, north of London, for seven years. But I learned to speak your language earlier. It was my mother who taught me the basics of English when I was quite young, before my ability to speak it was - refined, as you might say, at the Newington Academy.
That was the name of the school."
Charles interrupted, giving Charlotte a wink doing so, "And it is my beloved Charlotte here who taught me how to speak, read and write English - as you say - fluently.
And, Oh! I must correct you, Mister Stringfellow. I am not a professor
of aerial navigation as you claim. There is no such academic position anywhere - yet. You must be thinking of my - somewhat successful helicoptere demonstration eight-years-ago and my paid lectures and writings about it. You must have assumed that it was the result of an nonexistent academic office that I held." Professor Valcour ending his explanation with an insincere scolding smile.
Mister Stringfellow politely pondered both their statements for a moment, then quipped, "I see. That does explain a lot. Both of you do speak English quite well, I do say. And as far as matters of aerial navigation? One has to agree that the powered - helicoptere ascent was quite an extraordinary feat, Professor. It certainly encouraged me and my former partner, Mister Henson to pursue an alternative means of ascending and traveling through the air with the attempted development of the Aerial Steam Carriage, starting seven-years-ago, until he left for America last year. We did consider using an acid-gas engine, like the one you patented and used in your ascending-machine, I might add, but Mister Henson turned down the idea, preferring to rely on steam." Mister Stringfellow sighed, frowning in disappointment, "but of course you know about that failed project,
Professor, as indicated in your
initial correspondence."
His expression changed, realizing
his failure of etiquette.
"Oh how inconsiderate of me! I do ask you to come over to a table and some chairs that I have set up for this occasion on the other-side of this shop, in a less cluttered part.
I have some tea brewing and some small, ham and egg sandwiches arrayed on a tray that my wife prepared. So you see that we English are not all a perfidious nor an inhospitable lot, as some of your countrymen imagine. That said, I gather you did not have opportunity to partake of lunch since you departed Bristol this morning?" he inquired.
Charles and Charlotte nodded, smiling in appreciation and relief at the gracious offer. "Thank you," Charles gratefully uttered, "We accept your offer. Both of us indeed are famished."

Professor Valcour and his wife sated their hunger and thirst at the table prepared for them, resting themselves
also as John Stringfellow expounded on his plans and the projects that he was working on. Having had their fill of the offered tea and sandwiches, the two guests were subsequently escorted around the work-premises by their host, who introduced them
to his employees, and pointed out and described things of interest on site to the pair, as he had promised. He went as far as to show his two visitors a remarkably 'light', 192-pound-weight twelve horsepower steam-engine that he was working on. The talented Englishman then took them a little further and showed the two a relatively 'small' winged-craft that he had constructed.
It was a little over ten-feet-long, with a wingspan that matched, and a birdlike horizontal fantail fitted to it.
"That small steam-engine that you saw will soon be mounted on to this
and fitted with a three-foot-diameter
propeller." he cheerfully announced.
John Stringfellow swept his arm up and across, drawing attention to the lengthy interior of the workshop-hanger. There was a long rope suspended above that was stretched across the length of the building, dangling lead-weights suspended at each end.
"I will install a tallowed platform near one end of the rope, where the experimental craft and its engine will be temporarily mounted. And a pair of large rectangular hoops will hook the craft to the rope that will guide this craft down the length of this building. Hopefully the attached engine will produce sufficient power to generate sustained net lift." John yearningly explained, "I should have it ready to test, early next year. As I have informed you already, I am now starting work on a larger version with a twenty-foot wingspan that could be fitted with that engine of yours, Professor, which I do hope will have sufficient power to achieve powered flight at an outdoor location for at least half-a-minute. Both projects do take up a good deal of my time.
And of course I still have to make carriages here, and bobbins too, to
earn a living." he wearily confessed.
His two guests glanced at each other puzzled, silently mouthing the word "bobbins?", shaking their heads in ignorance, then immediately dismissed it as of no consequence.
John Stringfellow followed up with
a question: "How much power did
your helicoptere engine achieve, Professor, if I may ask?"
Cautioning, Charles carefully retorted, "There are variables to consider, but I have estimated that my acid-gas engine managed to produce over thirty-four of your English horsepower, according to my calculations, when the internal pressure reached its highest point.
I don't know if that is helpful. I also honestly doubt that half-a-minute of powered flight can be achieved using my engine as you suppose. But you are welcome to it. My offer does stand."
Not waiting for a response, and giving the nearby 10-foot-long winged-craft another look-over, he suddenly turned in realization to his English host, and asked, "The rope? Is that why you do not have a vertical fin attached to the horizontal fantail on this apparatus, Mister Stringfellow? The rope would be a hindrance, I assume? I assure you that you will need a vertical stabilizing fin, as well as the horizontal fantail for the free-flying
machine that you plan to send up in a future outdoor experiment.
I can tell you that we have a French Navy officer named Ensign le Bris who is even now designing and building what will be a rocket-propelled winged-carriage. And from his investigations and experiments, using the artificial-wind tunnel that the French Navy now possesses, he has learned that he must not only fit rigid horizontal and vertical stabilizing-fins
on his winged-carriage, he must also attach rudders to them so that the soaring winged-carriage can maneuver effectively and safely."
Looking rather rueful, John Stringfellow replied, "I do wish I had the funds to afford such an artificial-wind tunnel with its associate machinery, or have access to the one that Sir George Cayley purchased from you seven-years-ago.
It would make my work progress that much more satisfactorily," he softly moaned in regret, "but suffice it to say that this - craft that you see before you will not require the maneuverability, nor the superfluous stability, like that of the rocket-driven winged-carriage that you made mention of; nor like that of the gliding winged-carriage of Mister Cayley's, since sustained lift and thrust are what I am pursuing with this present design and model, and the larger free-flying craft also. Maneuverability will be dealt with in a larger free-flying machine that I will design to carry a man aloft, perhaps three-years-hence - - - But regarding the intermediate unmanned free-flying machine I'm now developing? I now inform you in person that I agree to accept the offer you made; with the terms you proposed in the letter you sent. I do realize it will cost me quite a few Pounds Sterling to ship off the engine that you desire to Paris, which I have yet to show you. I will scrape up the funds however. I am a man of my word. I do suppose it will require quite a few Francs on your part to ship me the unique engine that you made."
Charles hesitated. It was his wife who nudged him to respond.
"The acid-gas engine that I used on my helicoptere, eight-years-ago, has been kept in storage since then; except for a few months when it was put on display at the Industrial Exhibition in Paris, three-years-ago. I stand by my offer, but I cannot guarantee that it will function
again as well as you may like. Are you not concerned about it's physical condition?"
The middle-aged Englishman mildly shook his head. "Are you concerned about the physical condition of my thirty-horsepower steam-engine that I'm offering you in the trade?" he retorted, "I know you are a man of integrity, Professor. We can seal this agreement now with a simple handshake, as far as I'm concerned.
Any damage incurred during transport can be repaired; or parts that may break can be replaced, should it come to that. And all I need from you, Professor, are the written instructions regarding the operation of that peculiar engine of yours."
Professor Valcour gave his host an admiring look before reaching over and shaking Mr. Stringfellow's hand.
"Then it is agreed." the Englishman affirmed, "do follow me, and I will
show it to you. I too have kept my engine in storage, hopefully none-the-worse for wear - or rust. But that prospect doesn't seem to trouble you."

Complying with his host's request, Charles Valcour once again accompanied the Englishman, briskly moving up to walk beside him, a curious expression playing across Charles' face. Noting it, Mr. Stringfellow looking a little puzzled, asked, "Is there some matter or concern that you have yet to bring to my attention, Professor?"
Charles shrugged a little, replying,
"Perhaps it's just my curiosity. In your letter replying to mine you mentioned that the - previously built steam-engine of yours that failed to send any large models of the Aerial Steam Carriage aloft could burn either naphtha or wood-spirits for fuel. You also gave me the engine's dimensions and its power output. But you failed to inform me of its weight." Charles
shot his host an inquisitive look,
eagerly anticipating an answer.
"It depends on how much water for steam you would use, and how much lubricant and fuel also. Together,
the weight does not exceed eight-hundred pounds. That's a little more than twenty-six-pounds per horsepower. Not much good for trying to send winged-carriages aloft, as I can attest." John Stringfellow sadly declared, "I wonder for what good purpose do you intend to employ the steam-engine that I offer you?"
Professor Valcour was a little coy with his answer, blurting out a somewhat vague reply. "I have some ideas that would require experimentation, and potential flying- vehicles may not be the only application. Have you heard or read that an older colleague and scientist from my alma mater, the Polytechnique, is now hard at work designing and building an engine that will use a
piston and cylinder, from a steam-engine, fitted with electric-spark devices to detonate mixtures of coal-gas and what you call air to produce reciprocating motion in the piston rod? His name is Professeur Poncelet. Have you heard of him?"
John Stringfellow stopped in his tracks, pausing to digest the stunning information.
"Yes, I've heard of that distinguished fellow. He has devised
an metric alternative to horsepower measurements, I understand. And he
has patented improved waterwheels,
some of which are being used in this country. But as far as converting steam piston and cylinders to use
the explosive power of ignited coal-gas and air mixtures? - - - Hmmm - - - I've had correspondence from Sir George Cayley where he has suggested that in the future there maybe engines that will use the combustion of naphtha or spirits in their cylinders to generate practical reciprocating motions. Do you think the future has come upon us a lot sooner than we supposed?" he queried.
Charles shook his head,
"In my opinion it will take another generation for such internal-combustion engines to become practical. But, speaking of
my friend, Sir George Cayley? I will write him again soon, suggesting that he offer you the use of the artificial-wind tunnel that I and my co-inventor sold him. I suspect you will have no great difficulty visiting him, with your nation's excellent Macadam roads and steam railway links. - - - You should have witnessed the successful gliding flight of his winged carriage, less than two-weeks-ago, up north in
the Yorkshire hills!" Charles blithely enthused, "The artificial-wind tunnel was of great assistance in its development and design! My wife and I can attest to how beautiful and remarkable the gliding flight went! He hired an circus acrobat to come up from London to control and steer that gliding craft. Hiring the circus acrobat was my suggestion to him prior to that occasion."

Nine Weeks Later...

Professor Valcour had little time to appreciate the remarkably compact steam-engine delivered to him that week. With so many commitments piling up: including lectures, science papers to write and preparing examinations for his science students at the College du France, Charles was compelled to keep the shipped hardware at his brother's factory, discreetly tucked away in a
dank storage room there, unable to do anything with it for nearly five full years.
It didn't help matters any when Professor Valcour used most of his remaining precious time in September and October to design, invent and make a small working model of what he called "a wind-steered windwheel". That project, along with other distractions and responsibilities took so much of his time that it almost drove him to mental exhaustion in the final months of 1847.
However, he managed to obtain a patent on his invention in the month of December; the French patent office being the first to issue it.
The machine he invented consisted of rectangular 'windmill' blades fitted to the spokes of an axle collared by two metal-bands attached to opposite sides of a free
turning slip-ring, the rim of which was loosely secured to a wood-framed derrick by four flanged clasps. The windwheel's axle had a projecting 'U-shaped' metal rod integrated at its midpoint, fitted snugly between the slip-ring, serving as an attachment-point for a short reciprocating crank-rod, itself attached by a pivot-pin to a longer vertically mounted crank-rod that was fastened to a piston fitted tightly inside a pumping cylinder at the bottom.
A vertically-mounted fantail was attached to the slip-ring on top to allow the wind to steer the spinning windwheel into it, to optimize the machine's performance. The one-thirtieth scale model he made was successfully tested that November in an artificial-wind tunnel in the presence of some of his colleagues, along with a witnessing patent official, hastening the patent process for him.
His friend, George Marchand suggested some improvements, recommending that the derrick be designed for easy assembly, disassembling and transport to allow a full-scale working version to be made speedily available where ever it was needed.
George also recommended that a number of those portable machines be built and made available to help pump water out of low-laying floodplains, such as those in the Cotentin Peninsula, which were frequently inundated with water after lengthy spells of heavy rain.
Professor Valcour's brother Henri was called upon to build and assemble a full-size working prototype in early 1848. The invention proved popular, especially across the Atlantic, shortly after Charles obtained a patent for it in the United States of America, at a time not long after the American Union admitted the State of Texas, and the territory of California, along with other former Mexican lands, with their extensive dry and semi-arid regions.

Charles Valcour's friend and colleague, Professor Jean-Victor Poncelet was also issued a patent in the final months of 1847, having completed and tested a working model of his coal-gas consuming, piston-and-cylinder internal combustion engine.
Some French newspapers went as far as to claim that 'the end of the era of steam was at hand'. Professor Poncelet was far more realistic, legitimately arguing that the engine that he made was too noisy, immobile, grossly inefficient and underpowered; spewing large quantities of asphyxiating fumes, and lacked reliability and endurance
as demonstrated when his engine overheated, causing his engine's piston to seize more than once.
In 1848, Jean-Victor Poncelet
tackled some of the problems, inventing and adding a water-jacket to the engine cylinder to keep it from overheating. He also designed and invented a hollow piston-rod that could hold pressurized lubricating oil to be dispensed through capillary-tubes in the piston to sustain lubrication in the space between the piston rings.
He even modified a wagon, equipping it with one of his engines, accompanied by a coal-baking
"box" added to produce the necessary coal-gas for the fuel. The experimental horseless carriage covered a distance of over two kilometers in its one and only trail-run in July of that year. Then all further efforts along those lines by the distinguished professor and engineer ceased: Professor Jean-Victor Poncelet was appointed that summer as the new "Commandant-General" of the Ecole Polytechnique, Professor Valcour's, and his alma mater. But before he took up the duties and responsibilities of directing and administering that institution of higher learning, he applied for one final patent that year: a cooling water-jacket designed for rocket-motor nozzles.
As far as internal-combustion engine development went? It would be up to others in the coming years
to bring it to practical fruition.

Across the English Channel, the ingenious English mechanic and carriage-maker, John Stringfellow likewise found himself far too busy to do much with the "gift" sent his way in the exchange agreement made with Professor Valcour; unable to do anything with it well into 1848. The acid-gas engine delivered to his shop, received only eight days before the compact steam-engine that he sent in the mutual trade arrived in Paris, sat unused in a corner of the lengthy carriage-works building in Chard for months, ignored and neglected as Mr. Stringfellow obsessively pursued the development of his 10-foot wingspan
flying-machine in his spare time, with the aid of some of his employees, leaving little time to work on the larger free-flying version of his "aerial craft" intended to be fitted with that exotic engine Charles sent him.
The smaller flying-craft was finally fitted with the custom-built 12 horsepower steam-engine; the one he had proudly shown off to Charles and Charlotte; having the entire thing assembled and connected in the final weeks of March, 1848. The completed machine was then carefully hoisted and mounted on top of a greased platform, after which the winged-craft's large rectangular 'hoops' were hooked onto the elevated tallow-coated rope, depressing the lengthy line with the added weight.
And just before 7:00 PM, on a Tuesday, the 4'th of April, 1848,
John Stringfellow fired up the alcohol burner on the machine's lightweight steam-engine and less than half-an-hour later, its propeller spinning vigorously, the winged-contraption was liberated from its restraining-hook on the greased platform and was instantly thrust forward, further depressing the rope it was hooked onto for a few seconds after clearing the elevated mount, only to find itself rising once more; the weighted-rope guiding it bowing up and straightening as a result.
The powered flying-machine's rectangular hoops were seen developing a growing gap above the rope in the machine's last 30 feet of powered flight before it barreled into a restraining fish-net deployed at the far end of the building, which brought the craft's progress to a swift halt.
John Stringfellow and four of his fellow workers broke free of their typical English reserve and loudly declared their triumph with obvious glee.
Mr. Stringfellow's machine had become the first heavier-than-air fixed-winged aircraft to achieve
sustained powered flight, albeit under confined and restrained conditions.
Sir George Cayley wrote, congratulating him, offering the services of his artificial-wind tunnel
to help his fellow aviation pioneer test models of future winged-craft he intended to make.
John Stringfellow accepted the offer and took the opportunity to visit
his esteemed fellow Englishmen up in Yorkshire that June. The two-week-long visit proved most fruitful. When he returned to Chard, John found a letter waiting for him.
It was from Charles Valcour. The
youthful professor also extended his congratulations to the Englishman
and added a welcome suggestion: recommending that the planned free-flying winged-craft that now had Mr. Stringfellow's undivided attention be fitted with lightweight skids, instead of iron-wheels, to reduce weight and flight-drag, and to safely land and brake the flying-machine upon its return to earth. Professor Valcour also advised that the skids be fitted into greased flanged-rails to facilitate the ground-level acceleration of the "aerial craft" prior to the start of its ascent.
Accepting the advice, but realizing that the operational time-limits imposed by the acid-gas engine on his free-flying machine necessitated
a brief ground-speed buildup over a
short distance, dramatically limiting the estimated length of the acceleration-track that would be set up somewhere nearby in Somerset County for the experimental flight, he began to ponder the idea of using a wood-frame structure, with heavy falling-weights, ropes and pulley-wheels to greatly boost the initial acceleration of the winged-craft along the short length of the proposed flanged-track.
Redoubling his efforts, starting the first week of that July, it took Mr. Stringfellow, and his fellow workers, another 14 months to assemble and prepare the 20-foot-wingspan craft and its integrated acid-gas engine. Then there was the matter of the flanged iron-rails, ties, the framed falling-weight "catapult", and a site needed near Chard to attempt the flight. As work progressed on John Stringfellow's latest "flying-machine", the British public's interest in the project grew. With the growing publicity and support, there came donations; not all of it in the form of money. A chemical firm in London
shipped a large quantity of "muriatic acid" at no cost. A quarry offered a suitable-size block of limestone.
There was also prize-money put up.
The publisher of the "The Times
of London" newspaper issued a challenge, offering a prize of 100 Pounds Sterling to John Stringfellow if his "aerial machine" could achieve powered flight lasting at least half-a-minute, covering a distance of greater than 500 yards through the air, with an bonus of 50 Pounds Sterling also assured if the craft were to ascend to a measured and verified height of at least 30 feet above the level from which the machine started at.
The prize-money proved to be an attractive incentive, but it was the money sent as donations from across the British Isles, as well as the other
items offered and sent, that sustained and pushed the project; helping with the frequent budget shortfalls as well.
The financial gifts mailed to the carriage-works in Chard in the first half of 1849 alone amounted to a sum of just over thirty-six Pounds Sterling. John Stringfellow was touched and encouraged by the support. His wife graciously wrote back to every donor, thanking them one and all. As the summer of 1849 wore on and the British flying-machine neared completion, the public throughout the British Isles eagerly awaited its debut. But it was the French Navy that 'stole the show' as the summer of 1849 drew to a close...

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