the
colourful career of Alberto
Santos-Dumont

Historians of aviation are not certain what to make of
Alberto Santos-Dumont; no one ever was.
He was a hero, a genius,
and a visionary to some, and to others he was a
laughable character who was
only accidentally more than a
footnote in the history of flight. Peter Wykeham’s biography
of the man presents a complex picture of a man
who persevered over terrific odds—
thrown at him by the world
and his own demons—and who “forced history to
be made by sheer will.”
Santos (as he was known) came to France from Brazil
in 1891. He was the eighteen-year-
old son of a wealthy coffee
plantation owner, and showed mechanical adroitness even as a
child.

Alberto Santos-Dumont at the helm of one of
his airships
An inveterate gadgeteer, he soaked
up French culture insatiably and regarded himself a son
of France, even after his
return to Brazil in 1928. Santos
was short and frail—about five feet tall and
weighing no more than ninety
pounds (4lkg)—and his attempts to compensate for this by
wearing high collars, tall floppy hats, and pinstripe suits
made him appear like a caricature of a dandy.
Soon after
arriving in Paris, he became intoxicated with the idea of
flight and with all the activity he found all around him in
the area of dirigibles and heavier-than-air aircraft. Santos
made his first flight in Paris in a dirigible of his own
design in 1898, and though he crashed Parisians learned
something about Santos that would be true of him his entire
life: crashing never deterred Alberto Santos-Dumont. He
parked his aircraft near his Champs Elysees apartment and
was frequently seen gliding around Paris to the
delight of children, visitors, and the press.

A frequent sight on the streets of
Paris in 1909:
Santos-Dumont driving his
Demoiselle to Saint Cyr
airfield for testing. Compare the
Demoiselle’s size to the 14-bis
(below)
Officialdom looked at these exploits with
nervous amusement, particularly when his dirigibles would
occasionally appear at an official function uninvited and
unannounced. When, in 1900, the financier Henri Deutsch
offered a prize of 100,000 francs to the first aeronaut to
fly the seven miles (11km) from the Aéro Club de France’s
headquarters in Saint-Cloud to the Eiffel Tower the Paris
press felt that the two leading contenders were Count
Ferdinand Graf von Zeppelin and their adopted son Santos.
Santos made two attempts that ended in spectacular
crashes—one on the estate of Baron Rothschild, the other in
the courtyard of the Trocadero Hotel, both in full view of
onlookers and in both cases with Santos barely escaping with
his life—and then, on October 19, 1900, he completed the
course, adding a flourish by circling the Eiffel Tower and
returning to Saint-Cloud.
This extra manoeuvre almost cost
him the prize because the judges claimed that the contest
required that the flight be considered over by the securing
of the guide rope (to differentiate the flight from an
un-powered balloon flight). Popular sentiment was so behind
Santos, however, that the judges relented and awarded him
the prize. With typical
magnanimity, Santos announced that he would give
seventy-five thousand francs to charity and to volunteers
who had helped him (though Brazil, eager to reclaim its
native son, matched the French prize with one of its own).
In 1904, Santos experimented with gliders
and helicopters, producing a machine of silk and bamboo. It
did not fly, though it tossed Santos about. He went back to
the drawing board and emerged in 1906 with a machine that
looked like several box kites haphazardly put together. He
called it the 14-bis (14-encore) because it was to be
carried aloft by his No. 14 dirigible.
On July 23, 1906, in
a procession that looked like a major parade and included
Ernest Archdeacon and other members of the Aéro Club, Santos
brought his No. 14 and the 14-bis to the Bagatelle for
testing. Noticing that the aircraft had been damaged during
the procession, the unflappable Santos announced that the
test was off and sent everyone home. He tried again on July
29, this time using a donkey (named Kuigno) to pull the
aircraft- dirigible combination.

14-bis, the plane in which Santos-Dumont
made his historic 1907 flight.
Santos continued to test the aircraft,
soon coming to the conclusion that the dirigible was not
necessary. On September 13, the 14-bis took a short hop of
from twenty to forty feet (6 to 12m); on October 23 it flew
a full 197 feet (60m); and on November 12 it went 722 feet
(220m) in a flight lasting twenty-one seconds. All of Europe
was electrified by this, the first heavier-than-air flight
by a European. Octave Chanute reported back to the Wrights
that, while Santos-Dumont had indeed flown, he had no means
of controlling the aircraft except by shifting his weight,
and even that was difficult because the pilot stood in a
narrow wicker basket. Santos’ next airplane, the No. 15,
equipped with a makeshift wing-warping mechanism, broke up
while taxi-ing for a take-off in March 1907.
By this time, Santos had seen several
Blériot aircraft in flight and had decided to construct a
monoplane. The result was the Demoiselle No. 19, an
ultra-light tractor monoplane made of bamboo and silk and
weighing only about 153 pounds. The Demoiselle (nicknamed
the Grasshopper) became a sensation all over Europe and was
sold by the thousands, introducing an entirely new
generation to the thrill of flight for less than five
hundred francs. Many designers regarded the Demoiselle as an
oddity, but the aircraft had a clear impact on many
designers and its image can be seen lurking in the lines of
Anthony Fokker’s first aircraft, the Spinne (Spider) of 1912
and in light aircraft of the post war period.
In 1910, Santos-Dumont was diagnosed with
multiple sclerosis. He went into retirement, though he
followed aviation developments throughout the war. In 1928,
he returned to Brazil and was given a hero’s welcome. As his
ship was docking, a sea plane carrying six prominent
Brazilians who wished to greet him crashed and all six were
lost. Santos, by this time quite frail, asked that all
ceremonies and events honouring him be cancelled. On July
23, 1932, Alberto Santos-Dumont committed suicide. In his
final years, he had become despondent about the destructive
uses to which nations had put aviation, and about his role
as a pioneer of flight.
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