Overall summary of the flight
The basis for this summary is a small booklet, 50
Years Of Australian Air Mails, by H. N. Eustis. Published in Australia July
16, 1964. No publisher is specified; Mr Eustis was an authority on stamps. All
material taken directly from this book is in Times New Roman typeface. Other material is in this typeface and
its sources are acknowledged in endnotes..
Introduction
MAURICE GUILLAUX was born January 24, 1883, at Montoire-sur-Loir,
France and died May 21,. 1917, at Villacoublay, France
Two special stamps were issued on 1st July to
commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of the first air mail flown in Australia
by Frenchman Maurice Guillaux. At 9.12 a.m. on Thursday, 16th July, 1964,
exactly fifty years later a light aircraft left Melbourne carrying an air mail
of souvenir covers that will be in worldwide demand by stamp collectors.
Guillaux’
arrival in Australia
Maurice Guillaux arrived in Sydney on 8th April,
1914, travelling in the S.S. ‘Orontes’ with his Bleriot monoplane crated in the
hold. The ship's passenger manifest reveals that he was accompanied by
Messrs.Rupeausseu, Maistre, Cominos, and du Coque, who were mechanics and
managers prepared for a commercial aviation onslaught on the Australian public.
After arrival in Sydney, the next two weeks were
spent in assembling and testing the Bleriot. Extreme care was taken by Guillaux
and his mechanics because the anticipated fame and fortune in this foreign
country hinged on the frail French aircraft. Whilst the mechanics were busy
doing their job, Guillaux and his managers were planning their ascents and
descents on the capital cities and larger country towns of Australia.
On 24th April, Guillaux was officially welcomed to
the City of Sydney by the Lord Mayor. Next day he made a flight to Newcastle,
and on the following Saturday the first public demonstration was given in
Sydney.
First
plans for Melbourne-Sydney airmail: Wizard Stone
During this early experimental and barnstorming
period in Australian aviation our postal authorities were not unmindful of the
possibility of mails being carried by air. While Guillaux was going on his way
with successful displays, our P.M.G. contracted with an American pilot who was
in Australia, ‘Wizard’ Stone, to fly an official first air mail from Melbourne
to Sydney.
Special souvenir post cards were printed and sold
to the public at 1/- each. Plans were going along very well and only a crash
would prevent the history-making flight. And, of course, this is what happened
on Monday, 1st June. The machine was wrecked beyond repair. The promoters did
not have a replacement aircraft because in those days planes were rarities.
Selection
of Guillaux as replacement
To the Postmaster-General (Mr. Wynne) the task of
despatching Australia's first air mail seemed beset with difficulties. Maurice
Guillaux, up until this time, was in no way concerned with the postal
authorities. Stone's crash, however, gave him the opportunity of being the
Frenchman to make aviation history in Australia. Our Postmaster General's
Department contracted with Guillaux to carry a bag of about 2,000 specially
printed post cards, valued (in 1964) at £15 each.
Guillaux had every confidence in himself as an
airman and in the Bleriot that was his charge. He had no pre-flight jitters and
for a number of days before the mail departure date could be seen engaged in
aerobatics over the city of Melbourne. Crowds were seen ‘sky watching’ at most
street corners and photographs taken ‘under the clock at Flinders Street’ as
well as other vantage points appeared in Melbourne papers.
There was no difficulty in selling the souvenir air
mail post cards, the weight limit was the restriction. Probably our earliest
‘black marketing’ or ‘ticket scalping’ occurred immediately before the flight
when some holders of surplus cards were selling them at double the original
price!
On 15 July he was reported as flying over
Beechworth. See this story.
Departure
from Melbourne: preparations
On the morning of Thursday, 16th July, Guillaux was
astir early. The Melbourne ‘ARGUS’ reports that he ‘sat down to his morning
cutlet at the Cafe Denat punctually at 6 o'clock’. Café Denat was at 80 Bourke Street,
Melbourne, and this is now the site of Florentino Restaurant[i]. .He left soon for the Royal
Agricultural showgrounds at Flemington and after a check of the Bleriot, was ready
as planned, standing beside the cockpit at 9 a.m. waiting for the arrival of
the most important item—the air mail. Five minutes later, the acting deputy
postmaster-general, Mr. W. B. Crosbie, appeared with the mail bag and at
exactly 9.12 a.m., Guillaux took off for Sydney.
Load:
· Souvenir air mail
· A letter of greeting from the Governor
of Victoria (Sir Arthur Stanley) to the Governor of New South Wales (Sir Gerald
Strickland)
· a letter from the French Vice-Consul in
Melbourne (M. Homery) to the French Consul-General at Sydney (Mr. Chayet).
· Due to the non arrival of the envelope
containing good wishes from the Lord Mayor of Melbourne to his counterpart in
Sydney, Guillaux promised to verbally deliver the message
· a quantity of Lipton Tea
· some O.T. cordial consigned to the
C.T.A. Club of Sydney.
Fuel was provided by Shell, and this was noted on
the postcards.
In the 1964 re-enactment these three firms were
again represented on the commemoration flight.
Melbourne to Seymour
9:12 am to 9:54 am, 61 miles in 42 minutes
Waving to his mechanics and the hundreds of
spectators at Flemington, Guillaux left in high spirits on his 580 mile flight;
first stop Seymour, 61 miles.
.At Wardong, 34 miles from Melbourne, he was
cheered as he passed overhead at 9.25 a.m.
Arrival
at Seymour 9:54 am
Precisely 42 minutes later the Bleriot touched down
at Jordan's paddock, the scheduled landing field. It appeared that everyone in
Seymour turned out to see their first aeroplane and the local paper commented
that ‘the Trawool road presented the appearance of Flemington road on Cup day.
There were motors, waggons, carts, horsemen, paters and maters carrying
children, footmen, etc., the whole forming a picturesque group.’
Guillaux was welcomed by the President of the
Shire, Councillor George Howe, accompanied by Monsieur J. P. Begin who was
Guillaux's representative. Like most of his exploits in Australia, the
Melbourne to Sydney flight was well planned. Guillaux had a representative at
each of his stopping places en route with the exception of Albury. Even this
border town had not been entirely overlooked, as Frenchman Alderman G. P. Frere
had been responsible for Guillaux's decision to land there, so that he was
looking after all arrangements.
The Bleriot did not remain long at Seymour, the
local hotelkeeper unearthed a bottle of ‘gold-top’, the drinkers voting good
health to the aviator. After taking aboard oil and eleven gallons of petrol,
Guillaux left at 10.25 a.m. and headed for the next stop, Wangaratta, which was
84 miles away.
Seymour
to Wangaratta
10:25 am to 11:40 am, 84 miles in 75 minutes
He passed over Benalla at 11.20 a.m. where his
speed was estimated to be 70 m.p.h.
At Wangaratta, Mr. J. Sisely's paddock on
Racecourse Road was the selected aerodrome. The crowd was larger than Seymour,
but would have been much bigger had Guillaux not been running three-quarters of
an hour early. The local press reported that the Bleriot landed at 11.40 a.m.
and ‘that the descent to earth was extremely graceful . . . the airman and his representative talked in French’.
After refuelling, during which Guillaux repeated
his only English words used on the MelbourneSydney flight—’keep back, no
smoking here’, the Bleriot took off at 12.15 p.m. bound for Albury, a distance
of 45 miles.
In these early days of the aeroplane in Australia,
it was the practice to light a bonfire to guide the pilot. At Wangaratta,
Guillaux had landed about twenty yards from the signal fire and commented later
that on leaving Melbourne he had risen to an altitude of 10,000 feet in order
to cross the mountains and dodge the ‘fog’. At this height ‘there was no calm
and I feared that I would not find my first stop.’
Wangaratta
to Albury
12:15 pm to 12:50 pm: 45 miles in 35 minutes
After leaving Wangaratta, the airman went on to say
that ‘I rose high and the cold was intense. Just as I was approaching Albury
the machine rocked and fell into innumerable air pockets.’
Chiltern, between Wangaratta and Albury was sighted
at 12.30 p.m. where the usual crowd turned out in the streets to see the
Bleriot.
The racecourse at Albury was buzzing shortly before
Guillaux landed at 12.50 p.m. The Mayor, Alderman Waugh, was present with
representatives of the local press. Senior Sergeant Blackburn was there with a
detachment of mounted constables to form a guard of honour.
Guillaux made his usual excellent landing, coming
to rest along side the judges' box where the spectators were assembled. Mayor
Waugh called for three hearty cheers, after which the airman's French friend,
Alderman Frere assumed responsibility.
Obviously
anxious to keep ahead of schedule, Guillaux hurriedly lunched with his friends and was ready in the aircraft
for take-off at 1.35 p.m. Wagga, 79 miles away was the next stop.
Albury
to Wagga
1:35 pm to 2:45 pm, 79 miles in 70 minutes
When he reached Wagga, Guillaux made his first
landing mistake on the trip. It was arranged that he land at the M.T.C.
racecourse near the centre of the town. In the *absence of a bonfire the airman
was used to watching for a large assembly of people to pinpoint his landing
field. Perhaps Guillaux did not remember that he had already exhibited his
Bleriot in Wagga some weeks earlier. On that occasion he had arrived with the
aircraft on a train.
It seems that the Wagga people chose to go to a
race meeting in preference to lining up for the arrival of Guil-leaux. There
was some consternation when the Bleriot landed near the judges' box right at
the end of the race! He had selected the wrong racecourse, where the town's
regular meeting was in full swing.
Undaunted however was the intrepid Guillaux, for
after receiving congratulations he took off, landing at the correct course a
few minutes later. The Mayor, Alderman McDonough and other members of the
council were there to greet him. The Wagga Wagga Express reported that ‘very
soon the airman's advance representatives drove up briskly in a cab with the
required fresh supply of petrol. Sitting in his airship, wearing a comfortable
fur-lined leather coat, hooded with a red, white and blue scarf, Monsieur
Guillaux wore an expression of excited pleasure and intense satisfaction of his
so far successful flight’.
Wagga
to Harden
3:30 pm to 4:06 pm, 84 miles in 96 minutes
Although there was scarcely a cloud to be seen in
the sky at Wagga, Guillaux was anxious to beat the weather and was ready to
leave at 3.30 p.m. Before leaving he was handed several letters to drop at
towns en route, plus copies of the local newspaper.
Hoax at Culcarin
The town of Culcairn is 32 miles out from Albury on
the way to Wagga. The residents expected that Guillaux would fly over at about
noon but communications in those days were not the best and the townsfolk were
not to know that the airman was still way back at Wangaratta.
At 1 p.m. a hoaxer phoned the shire office and
pretended to be a representative of Guillaux. He asked the Shire Clerk where
the Bleriot could land in Culcairn as a change of plans made it necessary for
the plane to refuel. Permission to land on Railway Parade was given and the
Shire Clerk himself offered to order the petrol required.
It appears that the hoaxer also phoned the local
Culcairn paper with the same message and a further supply of petrol was made
ready. The newspaper proprietor must have been very civic minded because with a
pitchfork and a yard of red flannel on the end of it, he stood guard on Railway
Parade keeping all traffic clear in readiness for the landing of the Bleriot.
At 2.15 p.m. the aircraft was seen approaching
Culcairn. Not even when it passed overhead did the sentinel believe the town
had been hoaxed. Thinking that Guillaux had not sighted the newly appointed
Railway Parade airfeld or else had forgotten to land, he leaped into the air
wildly waving the red flag to attract the attention of the aviator.
At Henty it was reported that the same hoaxer had
been at work. A large crowd had gathered at Spence's Hotel expecting a landing,
a special mail had been prepared, and petrol was ready.
Leaving Wagga at 3.30 p.m. bound for Harden, 84
miles distant, Guillaux was favoured with a tail wind that enabled him to
average 120 m.p.h. The Bleriot passed over Junee at 3.45 p.m. and reached
Harden at 4.05 p.m.
Guillaux was due to give an exhibition at Harden,
but with the weather still favourable and a good tail wind he decided to go on
to Goulburn, 94 miles away, expecting to land before darkness.
Three miles out of Harden, Guillaux says that ‘I
encountered a strong head wind, and fearing that I would not reach Goulburn
before dark I returned to Harden for the night’.
A report in the Wagga Wagga Express gave the reason
of the aviator's return to Harden from the three-mile point as being due to the
fear that he would run short of petrol, and would not be able to land in the
mountains. Whatever the reasons for returning, there seems no doubt that this
turnabout prevented Guillaux from flying into Sydney early on Friday morning.
He spent the night at the Carrington Hotel. Local
identity, Mr. R. J. Simpson tells that the plane appeared ‘to be a mass of
wires’, that townspeople flocked to the racecourse and a police guard was
placed on the Bleriot overnight.
Friday dawned cold and wet in Harden, but despite
the weather Guillaux flew the plane giving the locals sheltered under umbrellas
a thrilling display of aerobatics. He apologised for not looping the loop
because he did not have ‘the braces that held him in the machine’. Three Harden
residents were taken at intervals for joyrides.
Harden:
abortive departure for Goulburn, July 17
Guillaux's representative at Goulburn phoned continuously
during the morning reporting extremely bad weather. The Frenchman was most
anxious to go on his way. Although his agent begged him not to take off, the
airman left Harden at 2 p.m. This stage to Goulburn was 94 miles, but Guillaux
battling against a headwind did not get very far.
Over Galong, 20 miles away, exposure to the cold
wind and the rain caused the airman to be overcome with air sickness. At this
stage the Bleriot was averaging only 40 m.p.h. so Guillaux once again turned
back to Harden—a very unhappy Frenchman, to spend another night in the New
South Wales country town.
Guillaux, recalling later this night at Harden
said, ‘I had a lonely feeling and was worrying about getting away next day’.
Harden
to Goulburn on July 18
7:15 am to 9:15 am, 94 miles in 120 minutes
As it turned out he had every reason to worry for
after leaving Harden on Saturday morning, 18th July, at 7.15 a.m., the 94 miles
took the Bleriot exactly two hours. Strong head winds were encountered all the
way and Guillaux related that ‘I shall never forget the awful experience I had
to undergo. As soon as I rose I had to battle my way and had to negotiate a
passage through the icy atmosphere above those cruel mountains.’
These two hours called for really skilled flying and
Guillaux stood the test. The debonair Frenchman, as he has been called, may be
excused for his seemingly melodramatic description of the flight as he went on
to say that ‘never have I seen such an inhospitable region as this. The deep
yawning chasms, seemed to be calling me down into the merciless depths never to
rise again’.
‘There is no place to land in this awful mountain
country. If I had any motor troubles it would have been `good-bye' because
there were only eucalyptus trees to land upon.’ Guillaux went on to say that
although the railway lines were impossible to follow, it was the smoke from the
engine that helped guide him to Goulburn.
At 9.15 a.m. an almost frozen Guillaux clambered
out of the cockpit of the Bleriot and hurried to the signal fire. Never had the
sight of the bonfire been so doubly welcome to a lonely airman, as was this one
burning fiercely on the Goulburn racecourse on that Saturday morning.
The Goulburn newspaper covered the event
comprehensively with a coverage of his non-arrival on July 17 and his arrival on July 18. The July 21
issue carried a report of his
arrival in Sydney.
Goulburn
to Liverpool
11:05 am to 12:35 pm, 113 miles in 90 minutes
After a short exhibition flight Guillaux left at
11.05the next landing stop planned for Moss Vale, just under 50 miles away. At
times he was forced to fly at 18,000 feet and when searching for Moss Vale he
had come down to 10,000 feet but still could not find a landing field nor sight
the bonfire. (heights are as stated in the booklet)
So, on to Sydney—but for some reason Guillaux's
maps stopped 50 miles short of Sydney Town! Furthermore, he had been specially
instructed not to arrive at his destination much before three o'clock.
With the aid of his compass, the plan therefore was
to find some cleared area to make the first ‘forced landing’ on the Melbourne
to Sydney air route.
Liverpool
After flying 113 miles from Goulburn, Guillaux
sighted a clearing near Liverpool. He made a good landing at 12.35 p.m. and was
warmly welcomed by a Mr. and Mrs. Clarke who invited him to lunch.
Liverpool
to Sydney
2:05 to 2:50 pm, 22 miles in 45 minutes
With only 22 miles remaining, the end of the record
making flight was almost in sight. When Guillaux took to the air at 2.05 luck
was with him and a tail wind found him killing time over Parramatta and Manly.
After casually flying over several football grounds and waving to the crowds,
Guillaux decided he had best come in to a landing at Moore Park. In his own
words ‘with a certain amount of trepidation, I made my final descent in a
blinding storm. I was very cold but I was very happy. I had delivered the
mail.’
Landing
at Moore Park
And so at 2.50 p.m. as soon as he touched down, the
gallant French airman was besieged by admirers. The lifting of the mailbag was
the signal for renewed cheering. The Governor-General, Sir Roland
Munro-Ferguson, shook Guillaux by the hand. Then the airman was carried
shoulder high into the nearby sportsground and as the band played the
‘Marseillaise’ he handed to the Governor, Sir Gerald Strickland, a letter from
the Governor of Victoria.
Guillaux had delivered the first official air mail
in Australia, he had flown the first air freight, and he had made further
history because the 580 miles covered were a world record for the carriage of
an aerial mail.
After
the flight
Guillaux did not rest on his laurels as on 24th July,
1914, he established an Australian duration record by staying aloft for two
hours with a passenger.
On 1st August Guillaux crashed at the Ascot
racecourse, injuring himself and almost wrecked the Bleriot.
He spent a considerable time in hospital. War had
broken out in Europe and Guillaux was anxious to return to France for service
with the French Flying Corps. Maybe his staff had already left Australia, but
the date Guillaux left us is not known.
Maurice Guillaux served France well, his record
mentions that he was an excellent mechanic. He crashed while serving as a test
pilot at Villacoublay on 21st May, 1917, and was buried at Neuilly-sur-Seine.
Like many other early airmen Guillaux did not live to see the growth of the
industry he had helped pioneer.
A
note on times
The times given are actual take-off and landing
times. Guillaux arrived ahead of these times in many instances and gave
displays before landing. The correct time on the Wagga-Harden sector was 35
minutes, and the Liverpool-Sydney sector, 15 minutes.
The actual ‘overhead’ time between stops reduced
the total elapsed to 8 hours 2 minutes.
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