Captain William Newton Lancaster
Jun. 3rd, 2023 08:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arbeka((Кучерявая био. И сколько успевали эти люди в эту эпоху.))
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Captain William Newton Lancaster (14 February 1898 – 20 April 1933) was a pioneering British aviator.
Born in Birmingham, England, Lancaster emigrated to Australia prior to World War I. In 1916, he joined first the Australian Army and later the Australian Flying Corps. He remained in Britain after the war and joined the Royal Air Force, marrying Annie Maude Besant in 1919 and serving in India during the 1920s.[1] He was promoted to flying officer from pilot officer on 30 April 1921.[2]
England to Australia
In 1927, Lancaster transferred to the RAF Reserve (he continued to hold a commission until 30 April 1930),[3][4] and decided to make a name for himself by flying from England to Australia. He made this flight in the Avro Avian Red Rose, accompanied by Australian Jessie "Chubbie" Miller, who helped finance the flight.[5] It was at the time one of the longest flights made in such a small aircraft—although they were overtaken en route by Bert Hinkler in another Avian—and the first England–Australia flight by a woman.[6] A huge crowd greeted them on arrival in Darwin, and on their subsequent tour around Australia.[7]
In 1928 Lancaster and Miller moved to the United States on the promise of a Hollywood movie which was never made. Lancaster then made a living selling British aero engines,[1] and Miller became an aviator in her own right, competing in the famous "Powder Puff Derby" of 1929.[8]
Murder trial
In 1932, Lancaster had been in Mexico looking for work. At the same time, Haden Clarke, a male American writer, had been living in Lancaster and Miller's Florida home in order to assist Miller's writing of her autobiography. Clarke and Miller had developed a relationship in Lancaster's absence, and Clarke convinced Miller to leave Lancaster and marry him instead. Upon receipt of this news, Lancaster returned promptly to Florida.
On 20 April, Clarke was killed by a gunshot wound to the head.[1] Despite that the gun was Lancaster's, and that he admitted forging suicide notes found at the scene (one addressed to Lancaster and another to Miller), forensic evidence provided by the prosecution was confusing to the jury.
Albert H. Hamilton, a criminologist with a somewhat dubious past,[9] provided easy-to-understand testimony in Lancaster's favour. Additionally, even though Lancaster and Miller had dissolved their romance and partnership, Miller spoke in Lancaster's defence and the trial judge gave a summing up in his favour.
Lancaster was acquitted of murder after 5 hours of deliberation. It is regarded that although the evidence was in doubt, a main factor in Lancaster's acquittal was his calm, straightforward, gentlemanly demeanor in the courtroom; and the portrayal of the victim as depressive, drug-addicted and suicidal. Public opinion may also have played its part in influencing the jury; indeed, at one point the behaviour of those in gallery became so unruly (cheering for Lancaster), that Judge Atkinson interrupted with a firm, "This is not a vaudeville show!"[5]
Final flight
After the trial, Lancaster and Miller returned to England. Broke and friendless, Lancaster decided to attempt the hotly contested England-to-South Africa speed record. Purchasing the Avro Avian Southern Cross Minor from Charles Kingsford Smith, he departed England on 11 April 1933. As the Avian was considerably slower than other aircraft of the time, Lancaster would have to make very short stops and get very little sleep to have any hope of achieving the record.[1][5]
Having got lost several times, having not slept for 30 hours and being ten hours behind his intended time, Lancaster departed from Reggane on the evening of 12 April to make a 750 mi (1,210 km) night crossing of the Sahara. The Avian's engine failed after less than an hour's flying, and he crash-landed in the desert far north of his expected flight path. Relatively uninjured and occasionally firing flares he awaited rescue. Searches by aircraft, however, were too far to the south, and a car searching from Reggane was also unsuccessful. He died eight days later, on 20 April 1933, exactly one year after Clarke's death. His final message, written on a fuel card on the morning of the 20th, was "So the beginning of the eighth day has dawned. It is still cool. I have no water. I am waiting patiently. Come soon please. Fever wracked me last night. Hope you get my full log. Bill"[1]
Discovery
The crash site was discovered by French troops on 12 February 1962,[10] approximately 170 miles south of Reggane in the Tanezrouft region. Lancaster's body had been mummified, and his diary and personal effects had survived intact. The diary was returned to Miller, who allowed it to be published.[5] Lancaster was buried in Algeria.[11]
The wreckage of the Southern Cross Minor displayed at the Queensland Museum.
The wreck of the Southern Cross Minor was recovered in 1975.[12] It now resides in the Queensland Museum in Brisbane but is now held in storage and no longer on public display.
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Captain William Newton Lancaster (14 February 1898 – 20 April 1933) was a pioneering British aviator.
Born in Birmingham, England, Lancaster emigrated to Australia prior to World War I. In 1916, he joined first the Australian Army and later the Australian Flying Corps. He remained in Britain after the war and joined the Royal Air Force, marrying Annie Maude Besant in 1919 and serving in India during the 1920s.[1] He was promoted to flying officer from pilot officer on 30 April 1921.[2]
England to Australia
In 1927, Lancaster transferred to the RAF Reserve (he continued to hold a commission until 30 April 1930),[3][4] and decided to make a name for himself by flying from England to Australia. He made this flight in the Avro Avian Red Rose, accompanied by Australian Jessie "Chubbie" Miller, who helped finance the flight.[5] It was at the time one of the longest flights made in such a small aircraft—although they were overtaken en route by Bert Hinkler in another Avian—and the first England–Australia flight by a woman.[6] A huge crowd greeted them on arrival in Darwin, and on their subsequent tour around Australia.[7]
In 1928 Lancaster and Miller moved to the United States on the promise of a Hollywood movie which was never made. Lancaster then made a living selling British aero engines,[1] and Miller became an aviator in her own right, competing in the famous "Powder Puff Derby" of 1929.[8]
Murder trial
In 1932, Lancaster had been in Mexico looking for work. At the same time, Haden Clarke, a male American writer, had been living in Lancaster and Miller's Florida home in order to assist Miller's writing of her autobiography. Clarke and Miller had developed a relationship in Lancaster's absence, and Clarke convinced Miller to leave Lancaster and marry him instead. Upon receipt of this news, Lancaster returned promptly to Florida.
On 20 April, Clarke was killed by a gunshot wound to the head.[1] Despite that the gun was Lancaster's, and that he admitted forging suicide notes found at the scene (one addressed to Lancaster and another to Miller), forensic evidence provided by the prosecution was confusing to the jury.
Albert H. Hamilton, a criminologist with a somewhat dubious past,[9] provided easy-to-understand testimony in Lancaster's favour. Additionally, even though Lancaster and Miller had dissolved their romance and partnership, Miller spoke in Lancaster's defence and the trial judge gave a summing up in his favour.
Lancaster was acquitted of murder after 5 hours of deliberation. It is regarded that although the evidence was in doubt, a main factor in Lancaster's acquittal was his calm, straightforward, gentlemanly demeanor in the courtroom; and the portrayal of the victim as depressive, drug-addicted and suicidal. Public opinion may also have played its part in influencing the jury; indeed, at one point the behaviour of those in gallery became so unruly (cheering for Lancaster), that Judge Atkinson interrupted with a firm, "This is not a vaudeville show!"[5]
Final flight
After the trial, Lancaster and Miller returned to England. Broke and friendless, Lancaster decided to attempt the hotly contested England-to-South Africa speed record. Purchasing the Avro Avian Southern Cross Minor from Charles Kingsford Smith, he departed England on 11 April 1933. As the Avian was considerably slower than other aircraft of the time, Lancaster would have to make very short stops and get very little sleep to have any hope of achieving the record.[1][5]
Having got lost several times, having not slept for 30 hours and being ten hours behind his intended time, Lancaster departed from Reggane on the evening of 12 April to make a 750 mi (1,210 km) night crossing of the Sahara. The Avian's engine failed after less than an hour's flying, and he crash-landed in the desert far north of his expected flight path. Relatively uninjured and occasionally firing flares he awaited rescue. Searches by aircraft, however, were too far to the south, and a car searching from Reggane was also unsuccessful. He died eight days later, on 20 April 1933, exactly one year after Clarke's death. His final message, written on a fuel card on the morning of the 20th, was "So the beginning of the eighth day has dawned. It is still cool. I have no water. I am waiting patiently. Come soon please. Fever wracked me last night. Hope you get my full log. Bill"[1]
Discovery
The crash site was discovered by French troops on 12 February 1962,[10] approximately 170 miles south of Reggane in the Tanezrouft region. Lancaster's body had been mummified, and his diary and personal effects had survived intact. The diary was returned to Miller, who allowed it to be published.[5] Lancaster was buried in Algeria.[11]
The wreckage of the Southern Cross Minor displayed at the Queensland Museum.
The wreck of the Southern Cross Minor was recovered in 1975.[12] It now resides in the Queensland Museum in Brisbane but is now held in storage and no longer on public display.
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Date: 2023-07-03 07:21 am (UTC)История про бар в селе Сепыч оказалась на самом деле историей про отечественную попсу – тем более, что кажется это был и не Сепыч, кажется, это была Фабрика «Северный коммунар». (Там про нее все говорят – «Фабрика», «на Фабрике», что само по себе отдает какой-то антиутопией, к тому же в цехах Фабрики царит до сих пор нормальный фабричный ад. Фабрику построили до революции, делали тогда бумагу из древесины, а теперь – картон из макулатуры, прессованные формы для яиц. Чан для перемалывания макулатуры – бак с мотором, диаметром в полтора человеческих роста, в рабочем состоянии – произвел огромное впечатление. Вернее – рука, бросающая очередную пачку бумаги в это страшное месиво.) Так вот, была в Сепыче, или на Фабрике, православная церковь. Ее тоже построили до революции – в целях насаждения православия, ибо район киржацкий, старообрядческий. Именно по этой причине церковь, в которой при советской власти был клуб, никто не попытался восстановить, а продолжали использовать по назначению – как культурный центр. Не знаю, что там было наверху, а внизу, в подвале, сделали бар. И был там неописуемый интерьер – православно-мусульманско-попсовый. От более подробного описания воздержусь – все равно не получится. Ощущение было такое, как будто попал внутрь кармели – янтарно, липко, сладко, не то вкусно, не то отвратительно. Нас туда пригласили особо, в понедельник, когда для местных бар был закрыт. Хозяин открыл его специально, в 12 ночи – для нас. (Нет, конечно же это был Сепыч, Фабрика здесь совершенно ни при чем, как такое в голову могло взбрести. Это был Сепыч, и жили мы в здании интерната, с удивительными «удобствами» – выносной туалет в пристройке, когда все, что должно в принципе падать, падает вниз со второго этажа. Такую пристройку я видела потом в Новом Иерусалиме, в башенке Никона.) Мы как-то причепурились и отправились гулять – на следующий день надо было уезжать в Пермь. Помню, что я первый раз (и едва ли не в последний) вышла тогда в свет «девушкой», то есть – без сумки. (В соответствии с определением Лимонова: девушка – это «ключики в кармане джинсов и пара долларов», женщина – всегда с сумкой. Впрочем, ключиков у меня с собой тоже не было. Экспедиция. Коммунизм.) Потому что шли мы – танцевать.
Как мы там танцевали! Я не специалист, я не ходила на дискотеки, не плясала никогда под песню «В городе Сочи – темные ночи» и на рок-концерт пошла раз в жизни, в «этнографическую экспедицию», поэтому пережить эту оргию движения мне удалось только однажды – в баре села Сепыч, в подвале православной церкви. То, что это была именно оргия, подтверждается отчасти ее «моно» статусом – там были почти одни женщины. Мужчин было трое: хозяин бара и два человека из экспедиции – старик и мальчик. (Да не обидится на меня никто, они прекрасны и замечательны, но тогда, в тот момент, для нас это было именно так – старик и мальчик.) Мы держали их при себе, как светские дамы безобидных кавалеров, в ожидании прихода чего-то большего, что и мужчиной то не было (привет обитательницам славного города Иствика), мы в них не нуждались, мы использовали их как партнеров в дансинге, эта ночь была наша и оргия – наша. Никто не стыдился ни тела своего, ни движений своих, ни ужимок, ни прыжков. Все подробности стерлись уже из памяти, осталось только ощущение какого-то безумия – и вершину этого безумия я знаю совершенно точно.