Before Amelia (9 page)

In her twenty–fourth year, she enrolled in the Blériot school at Mourmelon, where she made swift progress with her training on the monoplane considered the best for speed. Blériot's successful Channel flight in 1909 won him not only the plaudits of France and all of Europe, but numerous young enthusiasts eager to learn to fly and explore the skies. Jeanne succeeded better than some others. One student bought a Blériot aeroplane, as was required by the school, but his lack of skill and heavy handedness on the machine required regular, costly repairs by the company staff. Landing was this student's bête noire. Repeatedly, he dropped too fast, at too sharp an angle; he walked away from the machine, but each time the undercarriage had to be rebuilt. This would–be pilot paid the cost happily—it was his ticket to association with the aviation world. Fortunately, he was never licensed.

Jeanne, on the other hand, successfully passed her tests and was issued license No. 318 on December 7, three days before her twenty–fifth birthday. She was still too much a novice to think about the Coupe Fémina and its two thousand–franc prize, but the following year would see her actively flying in appearances around the country and competing for the Coupe.

In the spring of 1911, Jeanne signed a contract with La Société de l'Ècole Nationale d'Aviation in Lyons for appearances there from May 28 to June 8. The contract was typical for that time—the main difference from pilot to pilot was that the amount paid reflected his or her stature in the aviation world. The pilot's first–class train ticket between Paris and Lyons with return was paid by the company; Jeanne received thirty francs a day, May 26 to June 9 inclusive, to cover her expenses at a hotel; her mechanic traveled second class both ways and received ten francs a day for expenses for the same number of days. Oil and gasoline were furnished by the company; Jeanne's aeroplane would be housed in the hangars of the society free.

France's Jeanne Herveux, an accomplished automobile stunt driver and racer, became the fourth woman to earn a pilot's license.
MUSÉE DE L'AIR ET DE L'ESPACE, LE BOURGET

The aviatrix was guaranteed three thousand francs in addition to any prizes she might win—five hundred francs to be paid on her arrival in Lyons, machine and mechanic ready, no later than the afternoon of May 26; one thousand francs on June 5; and the balance on her departure. For this sum, Jeanne agreed to fly at least two exhibitions, morning and afternoon, in good weather (she would make that determination), and more if the company thought it worthwhile or if the public demanded it. However, she would not be asked to make more than six flights in the same day. The requirements were not unlike the auto race courses where she had appeared, except at the moment aviation exhibitions were number one entertainment.

By August, Jeanne was preparing for the Coupe Fémina. On the 19th, she flew her Blériot with Gnome motor for one hour forty–five minutes, covering 101 kilometers at 600 meters altitude. That wouldn't do it. Hélène Dutrieu flew more than 260 kilometers to retain the Coupe and its prize money. Jeanne wasn't discouraged. She continued to compete, but the Coupe always eluded her. There was no award in 1912, and Raymonde de Laroche won in 1913.

Toward the end of 1911, Jeanne planned to open a flying school for women only, to be taught by women. Announcements appeared in French, English, and American newspapers, aimed at women who until now were put off by the male aviation environment. Unfortunately, Jeanne's timing was poor. There were numerous flying schools in existence by 1912, and the separation of the sexes failed to have its expected appeal.

At this point Jeanne Herveux vanished from the public eye. A 1922 French newspaper article, lamenting the disappearance of the country's famous aviatrixes, reported that she had married an American the previous year and was living in the United States, where she was running a flourishing fashion business. (Another source had her living in London.) In either case, aviation was a thing of the past. It was aviation's loss.

In the years between 1911 and the beginning of the First World War, the Aero Club of France issued pilot's licenses to nine more women. They were a varied group—native French, English, Indonesian, Rumanian; they flew a variety of aeroplanes: Astra, Blériot, Sommer, Breguet, Deperdussin, and Caudron.

In addition, there were several women who practiced flying with varying success but never earned a license. Mlle. Aboukaia, a diminutive Japanese woman, was especially active, appearing in exhibitions in 1910 and 1911, flying the difficult Demoiselle. She had been a successful bicycle racer in England and France on the enclosed circuit tracks popular at the height of the cycle craze. She made the switch to aeroplanes easily.

Mathilde Frank, a French citizen who became Mrs. Edwarson with her marriage to an English newspaperman, had studied at the Farman camp and planned a Channel flight in 1910. Bad weather prevented a takeoff, and she then went to England, where she had a tragic crash at Sunderland. A boy on the ground was killed when Frank's aeroplane caught a flagstaff and flipped over onto the ground. The motor fell on the boy, several spectators were injured by other parts of the machine, and Mathilde suffered a broken leg and internal injuries. Her flying career ended with this mishap.

Other women were mentioned as flying during the same period, including Lottie Brandon, Mme. Beroul, Mme. Copin, Mlle. Dindineau, and Mme. Dorival. None earned a license, but their presence showed that women could do the unusual in France without the hassle sometimes encountered elsewhere.

Two young women had almost finished their training when they were killed in a crash: Denise Moore, at age thirty–five, and Suzanne Bernard, at age nineteen. Their deaths plunged aviation circles into mourning. There was much soul–searching in the press at the loss of such young lives, and there was equal condemnation of parents who permitted their daughters to pursue such dangerous activity. Actually, Moore, born in Algeria of English parents, according to French and German sources (others claim her as American), did not use her real name, Jane Wright, because she wanted to keep her parents ignorant of her flying. Her death in July 1911 was headlined as “Aviation's first female sacrifice.” Many men had preceded her, but the death of a woman was viewed as more tragic than that of a man, because it was outside the normal expectation.

Marie-Louise Martin Driancourt was born December 1887 in Lyons, a center of propriety, good food, and bourgeois attitudes. As a young woman she went to Paris, married into the Parisian bourgeoisie, and became Mme. Driancourt and mother of three children when she was bitten by the flying bug. Her husband, also an ardent aviation enthusiast, encouraged her. In 1910 she trained at the Blériot school at Chartres, but by the next summer she had moved to Crotoy near Paris to work at the Caudron School, where she won pilot's license No. 525, dated June 15, 1911. The Caudron biplane was known for stability and speed. Driancourt made exhibition flights at the airfields around France and was a great success at the aviation meet at Crotoy in September, which was followed by a meet in Pamplona, Spain, where she was congratulated by Alphonse XIII for her achievements in duration, altitude, and virtuosity.

Her career was not without accident, due on one occasion to unsuspecting spectators who blocked her landing site. Rather than injure them, she glided into some trees, smashing her biplane and fracturing two ribs. The death of her husband in a car accident early in 1912 caused second thoughts about continuing her aviation career with family responsibilities. She appeared one more time at Juvisy in April 1912, with many of the greats of that period, but then retired to care for her children. Shortly after, illness claimed her, probably tuberculosis, and she died at the end of 1914 at L'Hay–les–Roses.

Mme. Béatrice Deryck (or de Ryk), an Indonesian national, was flying at the same time as Driancourt. She won license No. 652, dated October 10, 1911, with remarkable ease, flying a Hanriot monoplane. She was an enthusiastic sportswoman, a member of Stella, the aeronautical society, and combined ballooning and aviation. A journalist writing in
L'Aérophile
was impressed by her bravery and coolheadedness—both “would be the envy of the uglier sex.” Described as a lover of new experiences and emotions, Béatrice was last mentioned when she stepped into a balloon November 12, 1911, with Mme. Gustave Goldschmidt and disappeared from public notice. She was not interested in competition; she flew for her own enjoyment.

Jeanne Pallier took up flying at forty–eight years of age, the oldest of the French aviatrixes, and won license No. 1012, dated September 6, 1912. She passed her tests on August 2 and astonished the aviation world by flying over Paris at a height of seven hundred meters for her distance test, a flight described by one journal as “particularly brilliant.”

Mme. Pallier trained on an Astra biplane, a large machine with three seats arranged behind one another in the covered fuselage, the last two occupied by student and teacher with separate controls. Pallier won respect for her ability to handle such a large aeroplane. However, when she soloed and took her test flights, she used a smaller biplane. The Stella ladies welcomed Pallier as an associate member in recognition of her achievement.

Once she had her brevet, Pallier made a series of cross–country flights from Villacoublay to Chartres, with a stop at Ètampes. The next day she flew to the forest of Rambouillet, over Menviller, before returning to Chartres. The following day, she returned to Villacoublay, flying between five hundred and nine hundred meters high. Today such flights are nothing, but at that time, without compass or landmarks, they were remarkable. As one writer said, she had the instincts of a bird, and a lot of luck. Mme. Duchange was a passenger on the flights, permitting Jeanne to credit herself as “first” to carry a passenger cross–country. (Hélène Dutrieu flew successfully with her mechanic in Belgium in 1910, but Pallier obviously didn't know that.)

Jeanne competed unsuccessfully for the Coupe Fémina against Marie Marvingt and Raymonde de Laroche in 1913. Undetered, she flew at the Vienna air meet in June 1914, one of the last meets before the war, competing with men to win third place in duration and a prize of a thousand kronen.

During the war, Jeanne raised money to organize a squad of ambulances driven by women to transport the wounded. A
New York Times
article in February 1916 noted that her service was gratefully accepted by the government. As president of the Club Féminin Automobile, Jeanne had encouraged that group to establish the service. Now she hoped to involve the American public: “I hope our large–hearted American cousins will show their interest and collaborate with us in this enterprise.” Contributions could be sent to an address in Boston.

After the war one newspaper reported that Jeanne was doing sculpting and had given up aviation. She devoted herself to social work at the Renault factory, and she established the Coupe Jeanne Pallier to encourage young women in competitive sports. She died March 6, 1939, in the Couvent des Perpétual–Secours at Villeneuve–sur–Yonne, where her daughter was a nun.

Hélène de Plagino and Marthe Richer were issued their brevets on the same day, June 4, 1913. They had similar qualities: They were good at sports, as much at ease on a horse as in an automobile, and artful in their skill flying a machine. Plagino was the daughter of a diplomat stationed in Bucharest. Before she achieved her brevet, she accompanied the aviator Edmond Perreyon when he broke the altitude record. The Aero Club officials present at her tests were impressed by her mastery and ease in the maneuvers. She received brevet No. 1399.

Marthe Betenfeld Richer was one of the more enigmatic of the French aviatrixes. Born on April 15, 1889, at Blamont in Meurthe–et–Moselle, she was well aware of the German presence in the skies of Lorraine. She married Henri Richer, a wealthy attorney, when she was twenty–two. Newly brevetted (No. 1369 on June 4, 1913), she was eager to put her aerial talents to use for France. She approached General Hirschauer, who headed government aviation concerns, to recommend the formation of a feminine squadron. Hirschauer's response was a firm no; the proposal was “contrary to the Convention of the Hague.” Exposing a woman to the dangers of combat was unthinkable. Marthe would have to find some other use for her patriotism.

When her husband was killed at Verdun, Marthe adopted a pseudonym (Richard) and set about using her many talents for France. With the assistance of Captain Ladoux, who was responsible for intelligence, she was posted to Spain as agent S.R. 32 Alouette. Her youthfulness and wide blue eyes captivated Baron von Krohn, a German naval attaché and a nephew of German general Erich Ludendorff who, if he was as ugly as he has been described, must have pinched himself daily on his good fortune in winning such a lovely treasure. Loving lips are careless ones. The baron passed along military information on naval operations unwittingly to the compliant young woman, and in exchange he received unimportant, ridiculous bits of misinformation to report back to Germany.