In the autumn of 1903 great enthusiasm was aroused in London by
the announcement that Mr. Spencer proposed to fly from the
Crystal Palace round the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral and back to
his starting-place. This was a much longer journey than that
made by Santos-Dumont when he won the Deutsch prize.

Tens of thousands of London's citizens turned out to witness the
novel sight of a giant air-ship hovering over the heart of their
city, and it was at once seen what enormous possibilities there
were in the employment of such craft in time of war. The writer
remembers well moving among the dense crowds and hearing
everywhere such remarks as these:

"What would happen if a few bombs were thrown over the side of
the air-ship?" "Will there be air-fleets in future, manned by
the soldiers or sailors?" Indeed the uppermost thought in
people's minds was not so much the possibility of Mr. Spencer
being able to complete his journey successfully--nearly everyone
recognized that air-ship construction had now advanced so far
that it was only a matter of time for an ideal craft to be
built--but that the coming of the air-ship was an affair of grave
international importance.

The great craft, glistening in the sunlight, sailed majestically
from the south, but when it reached the Cathedral it refused to
turn round and face the wind. Try how he might, Mr. Spencer
could not make any progress. It was a thrilling sight to witness
this battle with the elements, right over the heart of the
largest city in the world. At times the air-ship seemed to be