From historian and bestselling author of the Pulitzer Prize finalist Empire of the Summer Moon comes a “captivating, thoroughly researched” ( The New York Times Book Review ) tale of the rise and fall of the world’s largest airship—and the doomed love story between an ambitious British officer and a married Romanian princess at its heart.
The tragic fate of the British airship R101—which went down in a spectacular fireball in 1930, killing more people than died in the Hindenburg disaster seven years later—has been largely forgotten. In His Majesty’s Airship , S.C. Gwynne resurrects it in vivid detail, telling the epic story of great ambition gone terribly wrong.
Airships, those airborne leviathans that occupied center stage in the world in the first half of the 20th century, were a symbol of the future. R101 was not just the largest aircraft ever to have flown and the product of the world’s most advanced engineering—she was also the lynchpin of an imperial British scheme to link by air the far-flung areas of its empire, from Australia to India, South Africa, Canada, Egypt, and Singapore. No one had ever conceived of anything like this, and R101 captivated the world. There was just one beyond the hype and technological wonders, these big, steel-framed, hydrogen-filled airships were a dangerously bad idea.
Gwynne’s chronicle features a cast of remarkable—and tragically flawed—characters, including Lord Christopher Thomson, the man who dreamed up the Imperial Airship Scheme and then relentlessly pushed R101 to her destruction; Princess Marthe Bibesco, the celebrated writer and glamorous socialite with whom he had a long affair; and George Herbert Scott, a national hero who was the first person to cross the Atlantic twice in any aircraft, in 1919—eight years before Lindbergh’s famous flight—but who devolved into drink and ruin. These historical figures—and the ship they built, flew, and crashed—come together in “a Promethean tale of unlimited ambitions and technical limitations, airy dreams and explosive endings” ( The Wall Street Journal).
S.C. “Sam” Gwynne is the author of two acclaimed books on American history: Empire of the Summer Moon, which spent 82 weeks on the New York Times Bestseller list and was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Critics Circle Award and won the Texas and Oklahoma book prizes; and Rebel Yell: The Violence, Passion, and Redemption of Stonewall Jackson, which was published in September 2014. It was also a New York Times Bestseller and was named a finalist for both the National Book Critics Circle Award and the Pen Literary Award for Biography. His book The Perfect Pass: American Genius and the Reinvention of Football, was published in September 2016, and was named to a number of “top ten” sports book lists.
Sam has written extensively for Texas Monthly, where he was Executive Editor from 2000-2008. His work included cover stories on White House advisor Karl Rove, NASA, the King Ranch, football player Johnny Manziel, and Southwest Airlines. His 2005 story on lethal Houston surgeon Eric Scheffey was published in “The Best American Crime Writing, 2006” by Harper Perennial Press. In 2008 he won the National City and Regional Magazine Award for “Writer of the Year.” He also writes for Outside magazine. His articles include a 2011 story about running the remote Pecos River in Texas, a 2012 piece about Bikini Atoll in the South Pacific, where the Americans tested atomic weapons, and a 2017 profile of disgraced cyclist Lance Armstrong.
Prior to joining Texas Monthly, Sam worked for Time Magazine as Correspondent, Bureau Chief, National Correspondent and Senior Editor. He traveled throughout the United States and to England, Austria, France, Belgium, Spain, and Russia to report stories for Time. He won a number of awards for his Time work, including a National Headliners Award for his work on the Columbine High School shootings. He also won the Gerald Loeb Award, the country’s most prestigious award for business writing, the Jack Anderson Award as the best investigative reporter, and the John Hancock Award for Distinguished Financial Writing. He has also written for the New York Times, Harper’s, Los Angeles Times, San Francisco Chronicle, California Magazine, Boston Globe, Dallas Morning News, and other publications.
Earlier books were Selling Money, about Sam’s adventures in the international loan trade, and The Outlaw Bank, about the global fraud at Bank of Credit and Commerce International (BCCI).
Before his career in journalism, Sam was a French teacher and an international banker.
Sam has a bachelor’s degree in history from Princeton University and a master’s degree in writing from Johns Hopkins University, where he studied under the acclaimed novelist John Barth. He lives in Austin, Texas with his wife, the artist Katie Maratta.
Very interesting book about the plight of His Majesty's Airship (R-101). Airships (blimps) had their heydays in the early 19th century and here author S.C Gywnne gives us a really good overview of the history of the airship industry, which really gets started with Count Von Zeppelin in Germany whose failed airship adventure became a source of German pride, so much so that his next airship was funded by private donations! Yes, there was Zeppelin-mania over in Germany. From there we see those airships used to bomb London and England in WW1 and how they were allegedly banned by the Treaty of Versailles - fascinating look at how the Germans got around that! But now the British are interested in Airships and were far behind the Germans in both experience and technology and developed many airships in the 1920 that ended in tragic failures. But one of the offshoots of the Treaty of Versailles is that the British Empire was greatly expanded, and even though a decision had been made to discontinue their manufacture and use, Lord Thomson, one of the leaders of the Socialist Party, wanted to use these airships to float among the regions of the British Empire. Yes he wanted to connect London with the Middle East, India, New Zealand, Australia and Canada, and convinced Parliament to restart airship production. R-101 was still an experimental ship, and we get to see all the issues and problems that beset this airship, problems that are too numerous to list in detail. Suffice it that this disaster in 1930 was because of one man's ego, as well as his desire to become Viceroy of India. Instead this airship, that had never been fully tested sets out in stormy weather which never gets better, and within a day it has crashed killing everyone onboard except the lucky six who survived. This is a riveting account of the history of airships, their use, assumed potential and all that went wrong with not just the R-101 but so many other airships that were used during this era.
SC Gwynne's brings his talents to bear on a forgotten element of air travel history. You might occasionally hear someone mention the Hindenburg, that famous Nazi airship that exploded in New Jersey, but other than that, the history of airships is largely lost to the general public.
Airplanes are the safest and fastest method of travel these days, but in the first half of the twentieth century there was a race between airplanes and lighter than air craft such as airships to determine which would be the preferred method of travel. We all know how that turned out, but Gwynne, one of the best historians writing today, brings to light the history of airships and the people who lead the charge on their behalf. Men such as Lord Thomson and Hugo Eckener. Gwynne particularly does Thomson justice, as the reader gains a full understanding of the man's character and ambitions, particularly through his relationship with the intriguing Marthe Bibesco.
I recognize this book might bore some readers. I love aviation and therefore am a perfect audience for such a book. However Gwynne knows how to construct a narrative, so if this even seems somewhat interesting to you, I recommend you grab it. And check out Gwynne's earlier books, 'Empire of the Summer Moon' and 'Rebel Yell'. They are fantastic. This is very good to excellent, so we'll call it a low four stars.
Impressive. Chapter 5 explains why airships were so much more difficult to fly than airplanes. It covers how they managed to fly at all. And it does so clearly and concisely. Neville Shute's role in the construction of the airship's rival was a surprise to me. Gwynne explains in the bibliography why Shute's analysis did not influence Gwynne's conclusions overmuch. The "romantic" interest in the book, that of Christopher Thompson, the airships' cheerleader, and Rumanian Princess Marthe Bibesco, is a bit clumsily stuck on, but the book doesn't suffer unduly from it. I highly recommend it.
Although I've been aware of the R101 disaster for many years now, this book couldn't have been written even ten years ago. On one hand, there was a need for modern forensic work. On the other, there was a lack of clear-headed acceptance of the bad judgement in play at the time of the disaster, which prevented a more hard-headed analysis. This is with the additional problem that the serious critics (men such as Barnes Wallis & Neville Shute, who were in competition with the team building R101), were obviously prejudiced. That brings us to this work, and Gwynne is not prepared to pull any punches, coming from the starting position that the big dirigibles were always impractical death traps, but survived on being icons of nationalistic endeavor, at least until there was no denying that the airplane had surpassed them. This is really not news.
What hasn't been widely advertised in a credible form is just how dubious the R100 and the R101 were in terms of being viable enterprises that one could depend on, never mind being the linchpins of a global transportation system tying the British Empire together. Whereas as the great engineer Barnes Wallis scoffed at the men building the R101, his own R100 wasn't tremendously better; the machines were just too fragile to accomplish what was demanded of them. However, the most blame has to attach to Lord Christopher Thompson, as the responsible official. He saw airships as a potential means to preserve the British Empire, while at the same time advancing his own career. That he generally seems to have been an admirable individual doesn't really excuse that he presided over a disaster waiting to happen, and was too willing to take stupid risks for the glory of it all. Then again, taking what now look like stupid risks seems like a congenital disease with the airship enthusiasts; the R101 became the funeral pyre of the men who designed her.
I was surprised to learn that a British airship nicknamed R101 had preceded the Hindenburg in a fatal fiery flight. As the doomed voyage plodded onward toward India, its state destination, I hoped for a good outcome since I had never heard of this craft. The attitude toward the glaring flaws was laissez faire, mainly "yes, the job was risky and experimental but some resolute men had to do it." The fairy tale, The Emperor's New Clothes came to mind because it seemed the developers, and particularly the Right Honorable Christopher Birdwood Thomson, looked the other way when the fragile outer skin made out of cow intestines continued to fail, a very obvious problem, at least it should have been obvious.
This experimental craft and the struggle to make it fly was as suspenseful as reading an adventure novel. Two thumbs up, and not just to aviation enthusiasts.
It won't be a spoiler to state that this airship crashes, as that is in the subtitle. The core of this books is the timeline that leads up to and contributes to the crash.
As I read this advance reader copy I kept thinking, "Why did people continue to go up in the air in these devices that were filled with millions of cubic feet of explosive gas contained in bags made of cow intestines?" The political and social pressures that motivated the timeline and flight of this particular airship also makes one wonder.
The book starts out in a very propulsive way that draws in the reader. As the details of past flights of German, American, Italian and English airships are detailed, one's attention tends to wander. There are also detailed descriptions of engineering updates to this airship as well as others that may be of particular interest to the specialist. By the time you reach the actual crash, it comes and goes rather quickly. In part this is due to the small number of people who survived to give testimony to the last minutes of the airship.
But for those interested in a detailed look at the early days of aviation, especially airships, this is a very good book.
A fascinating tale of human folly in the early days of aviation. Remarkable photos in the book’s insert, from the grand dining halls inside R101 to the gas bags to the glamorous Princess Bibesco. Get this for your dad for Father’s Day but pick up a copy for yourself, too, and make a buddy read of it. Would also recommend to my mom’s book club, which loved Devil in the White City; this is a very Erik Larson-sequel narrative history.
Disclaimer: I work for the publisher but I read this for fun!
Audiobook from Libby 9 hours Narrated by Nicholas Bolton (A)
A well-researched history of airships. The competition for superiority in air service ɓetween Britain and the more superior Germans. The infatuation of Lord Christopher Thomson with the possibilities of airships as a means of uniting the colonies of the British empire. The biography of a unique, genial, intelligent, socially, and politically driven member of parliament. A love story of a poor but distinguished army officer with a talented but married princess of Romania. AND the story of the greatest airship disaster in history on October 5, when Britain's R-101 crashed and burned in rural France, causing the deaths of 48 passengers and crew, leaving only six survivors. The thorough immediate investigation into the cause of the crash. The technology of computers in recent years finally reveals the cause of the crash. Shake well and top with whipped cream and a stunning Christmas bouquet of red roses received by the princess with a card declaring his undying love from "Kit" after his death.
What I missed: What happened to the six crew members in the years after the crash.
Another book on this subject "To Ride the Storm" by Sir Peter G. Masefield published 1983. I am grateful to find photos of the airship prior to its launching and its remains after the crash on Google. Also, the small monument to those who were buried in a mass grave at the site of R101's construction.
This wasn't badly written or researched. It was a very detailed account of the history of rigid airships and the men who dreamed of, built, and flew them. And therein was the problem for me. I wasn't really that interested in the technical details of the ships or the men. I just wanted to read the story of R101, a huge airship built by the British to travel from Great Britain to India, knitting together the empire that the sun never set on. The ship had been minimally tested and the man in command was a drunk. Who would want to even go? Apparently some very important men. As you can probably guess, the trip didn't end well. I skimmed the parts that didn't interest me, so if you're into the technicalities of the ships, you'll probably enjoy this read more than I did. Still, R101's death and those of the men who flew her was a tragedy, even though it could have been easily avoided. Once again, man's hubris led to his downfall.
If you love airships, you will love this book. If you like airships, you’ll like this book. If you looked at the cover and said “huh I guess airships would probably be pretty cool to learn about”, you will have mixed feelings about it.
This book is certainly not bad. It’s actually super interesting and well written. If you’re a history buff it’s going to be a fun ride. To me it felt like the most interesting book you’d read in a class you had to take because you needed a history credit. Especially the last 100 pages were a DRAG to get through. Once again I don’t think this is the books fault… I just wasn’t as interested in airships as I thought I’d be.
Personally this would be a two star read for me. But that’s not fair to the book so I bumped it to three. It would be much higher if I cared even a little more about airships as it is an extremely well written book. I did learn a lot and don’t regret the read, even if it was a struggle at the end!
I'd give it 3 stars if it weren't for the unending complaining/lecturing tone of the book, reminding the reader again and again... and again, in case we didn't get it or didn't believe him, that airships were a bad idea and we all need to get over the romanticism of them, nearly a century on. Seems to me you might want to let your audience make their own decision on that notion rather than smack them in the face with a ruler over and over lest we disagree.
I can't complain about its completionist agenda -- he manages to cover a lot of airship history, some small details I haven't seen before and some design/aeronautics matters about airships I hadn't run across before. On that score, it's a solid hit.
His overarching theme that the most famous British pilot of airships, George Herbert Scott, though not an official crew member of R101, nevertheless was a disastrous influence on its development and testing because of his drunkenness was carried on ad nauseam -- again, a simple invitation for us to wag our fingers at this man and tsk tsk along with the author, a rather intrusive character assassination attempt. For some reason he's far more forgiving of the Minister for Air Lord Christopher Thomson who pushed the 101 project for his political career.
Thrown in here and there are simply unnecessary looks forward to WW2 and the awesomeness of the Spitfire, defender of the nation and crown, real howlers to me. We're talking about the 1920's and up to the inevitable fiery end of airships with the Hindenburg disaster in 1937, so let's keep it there, shall we? Add in the amazing amount of repetition either for padding sake or because he's deliberately talking down to his audience and I walked away very frustrated with this look at the airship era through the lens of the R101, which is a great angle, really, taking a far different path than the traditional Graf Zeppelin/Hindenburg framework.
My knowledge of airships, largely forgotten outside the realms of historical and fantasy fiction today, was very limited prior to reading this, and I had never even heard of R101 and the tragedy that killed most of those aboard. Fascinating look at this particular case as well as airship technology and its many inherent dangers on the whole.
This was really a good one! I enjoy the overall concept, and I love how the author took us behind the scenes into the birth of hot air balloons. He later took us through the compact aspect of it, and the overall success and mostly failure of the programs.
I think this book is really a good one for those with aviation, history, or aviation background, but it is a very technical book!
This really is my favorite kind of book... Historical non-fiction about some lesser known event filled with human foible... Good intentions but bad results.
The author does a great job of explaining all the engineering and aeronautical complexity of these big machines and why they really were just a TERRIBLE idea to begin with... A very entertaining read.
This is one half the story of the development and subsequent crash of the R101, the largest airship built up to that point in time, and one half a history of airships in general. At the heart of the R101 side of things is the story of Christopher Thomson, the British government official who was pushing the hardest for the development of the ship, and who seems to have been motivated at least in part by his ongoing affair with a Romanian princess named Marthe Bibesco. Their affair, and the way it influenced Thomson’s entire professional life was pretty fascinating to me. There’s a ton of pilots, crew members, engineers, researchers, and bureaucrats mentioned throughout the book, but Thomson and Bibesco are the two most memorable personalities here by far, and the coda to their relationship was quite a gut punch.
The airships-in-general side of the book is just as great. Reading about how unbelievably unsafe airships were, how unreliable they were even when they weren’t exploding and/or crashing, and how spectacularly unsuited they were to hauling freight and carrying important people great distances in a big hurry (the two things the British were determined to use them for) was not exactly surprising, but certainly eye opening. It’s equally fascinating to see how long the dream of airships persisted in the face of so many fiery disasters, and the rapid development of far safer fixed-wing aircraft.
This is a very entertaining book. It occasionally even verges on being funny. It’s hard not to read the rundown of the zeppelin’s astoundingly poor performance in World War 1 for instance, and not start to laugh. But then you turn the page and read like the 900th nightmarish story in the book about what happens to the crew of one these things when they go up in flames and it wipes the smile right off your face.
Prior to reading His Majesty’s Airship my knowledge of them began and ended with the Hindenburg. I don’t know how this book reads to anyone who knows anything at all about this topic, but for a dummy like me it was a wild ride.
This was a very interesting, tragic story of people pursuing a consistently disastrous form of flight. Politics and ego played an enormous part in the creation of England's airships. A far-flung empire needed faster means of travel to connect the colonies and commonwealths to mother England. Continued reliance on hydrogen to carry these enormous airships was its fatal flaw. Technological limitations prevented any reliable means of providing a strong skin for the metal girders. The intestines of cows were used to create enormous containers for the hydrogen. Lord Christopher Thomson emerges as the driving force to create an imperial fleet of airships, to cover up structural deficiencies, to prevent all-weather testing of the R101 airship, and to force a flight date merely to accommodate his desire to become Viceroy of India. This was well-written and, yes, required a good deal of technical information to move the story to its tragic end. One needn't understand it all to understand why this tragedy did not have to happen, and that hydrogen lifted airships were born for failure.
I basically knew nothing about airships, so all the facts about them were very interesting. However there were lots of tangents about the crew members personal lives intertwined with the account of the last voyage of R101 which made it difficult to follow and stay engaged. I had trouble finishing this one after about the halfway point. Things got very repetitive; weak skeleton, flimsy cover, leaking gas bags, unpredictable. Could easily be 2.5 mostly because of the repetition, length, and tangents.
Alas, my romanticized notions about airships die another (literally) deflating death.
This is a solid piece of narrative nonfiction that reads very quickly and takes on an interesting and little known story about an airship disaster that predates the Hindenburg.
I loved Gwynne’s The Perfect Pass and was interested to see what he did with a very different type of material. This is a far less dense book, making it less immersive but also a quicker and easier read.
I would have loved more contextual immersion and sense of place for the culture at the time, as well as more background on the principal players in the story. But the detailed account of ill-fated R101 as well as the nuts and bolts of how airships work in general were fascinating.
*I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.*
Overall a pretty interesting read, but it disappointed a little.
The positive is that I found a lot of the facts in this book pretty interesting. It is well researched and fairly compelling-if you want to learn about airships, Zeppelins, and other "lighter than air" craft, this is a good resource.
Being critical, this book could have been a history of airships with R101's fatal story woven in a little more smoothly. The book's jumping back and forth between airship history and R101 was confusing at times. The book also tended to be a little redundant. Finally, the drama-filled anecdotes surrounding Lord Thompson's life felt forced and unnecessary.
Despite all the evidence to the contrary, for some reason or another, someone decided that building an airship was a good idea.
That's my one sentence summary of this book. Gwynne does a wonderful job of taking you through the history of these doomed vessels.
The whole process of R101, from building to fiery crash, exemplifies what is wrong with the late British Empire. Blood and treasure wasted at a time when it was sorely needed, pushed by an ambitious man with dreams of Empire. Safety, planning, prudence be dammed, stiff upper lip and derring-do shall win the day!
It's a wild story, and Gwynne tells it well. I'd say this was a good airplane book if the story wasn't about fiery crashes.
If you love airships it is an interesting read. For me this was a bit longer than it needed to be and repetitive. The author is, in my opinion, not a fan. I’ve always been fascinated by them and I think new technology may well be the solution to the technical problems he enumerated. However the problems of hubris and short sighted decision making will remain obstacles that can’t be addressed with technology.
The information and story presented was very interesting, but I had difficulty with how book was structured. the author spent a lot of time repeating facts given earlier in the book.
I think I would have enjoyed it had it been told more chronologically instead of jumping back and forth between the narrative of the R101's flight and the backstory and history of it's crew and other contemporary airships.
Once again I was in need of an audio book and found this gem in my library’s e-audio collection.
The Story
Mention “airship” and people today (well, those who don’t give you a blank look) think “Oh, the humanity!” or the Goodyear blimb that floats above events like the Super Bowl. The horrific Hindenburg disaster in 1937 is pretty much the end of travel by “blimp” aka “airship” or “Zeppelin” (yes, think Led Zeppelin), At one time, this was the “wave of the future” for long distance air travel according to some people. The Germans led the way with this. I found this book, about the British program to expand air travel to their vast colonial empire by using blimps–dirigibles, lighter-than-air ships, Zeppelin-like gas bags. From World War I until World War II travel by ship the by train then by car was still the way to go from London to Mombai [then called Bombay] or to anywhere in Australia, New Zealand, Singapore, or Hong Kong. All of Britain’s African colonies, plus their other Asian colonies were so far afield that have a meeting in person took about a month of travel (round-trip) and this was AFTER the Suez canal was built.
The British airship R-101 should have put paid to any country’s airship travel plans, but sadly, it didn’t–the Germans went right on with their program. What could go wrong with people flying a flammable bag of gas contained in recycled cattle guts in uncontrollable weather, with no radar, Ewww, you say? Read on!
The problems here concern bad science (nothing new about that–think “phrenology”) poor engineering, and Imperial delusions of grandeur by foes Germany and the United Kingdom. Just for fun, throw in a little-known princess as a romantic interest and you have a novel that would have been rejected. Except, this is NON-fiction! Lives were lost from stubbornness, stupidity, politics, and patriotism. Imagine! My Thoughts
This book is the best kind of nonfiction–it reads like a novel. I found the whole story fascinating. I nodded my head in agreement with the judgement on many things. I also felt the loss of human life as I listened. My Verdict 4.0
Fascinating history of the Blimp /zeppelin in world history circa 1930s in England, Germany and US The airplane was still viewed as an inferior method of flight while the airship/blimp the superior. History proved just the opposite
Some ideas are tried again and again until somebody finally brings the right conjunction combination of genius, timing, and luck to make it work. Think of the computer, the light bulb, or the automobile, concepts that went through countless failed iterations before becoming indispensable parts of daily life.
The airship is not one of those ideas. Gwynne uses the fiery destruction of R101, the pride of British aerospace, as the centerpiece of a searing indictment of the entire idea of international airship travel. The book describes the history of airship development as a string of catastrophes that probably should have been halted during World War One. Inexplicably, England, the United States, and Germany pressed on with building ever larger airships at the cost of millions of dollars and hundreds of lives until World War Two finally brought an end to the madness.
For anyone interested in the Age of Airships and Zeppelins, this book does a good job of capturing the time, the characters, and the events that led to the disaster of Britain’s last operational airship, the R101. Some attention is paid to the German and American efforts as well to provide context, but this book focuses mainly on the British.