'The First of Many'
- Apr 17, 2017
- 9 min read
To the casual driver travelling between the villages of Great Wymondley and Willian in the north Hertfordshire countryside, the small granite obelisk sitting unobtrusively on the grass verge has probably been passed by unnoticed many times. But this memorial was erected to mark, what was in 1912, a major news event throughout much of the western world.

In April1912 the Royal Flying Corps was founded to deal with military aviation, and four months later trials to evaluate various aircraft were held at the annual manoeuvres on Salisbury Plains. The still sceptical War Office now wanted to test these newly acquired “air scouts” in a large-scale battle situation. 75,000 soldiers were taking part in “The Grand Army Manoeuvres” in the east of England where a Blue Force was defending London against Red Force invaders. Much excitement stirred throughout East Anglia as thousands of spectators flocked to the battle areas. The uncommon sound of a flying machine was always enough to bring work in the fields to a standstill, and leave a factory or a school standing empty. All eyes gazed skywards to marvel at these pioneering machines.

On the morning of 6 September 1912 Captain Patrick Hamilton, along with his observer, Lieutenant Atholl Wyness-Stuart of No. 3 Squadron, took off in Army Aeroplane No. B258, a Deperdussin monoplane, from a field near Wallingford in Berkshire. Their task was to carry out reconnaissance work for the Blue defenders, and then land at Willian alighting ground[1]. Captain Hamilton’s Flight Commander, Major Brooke-Popham (later Air Vice Marshall Sir Robert Brooke-Popham K.C.B. C.M.G. D.S.O. A.F.C.) who was following up behind in a BE2 biplane, later recalled. “I started about three minutes after as observer on another machine. We kept the Deperdussin machine in view for about fifteen miles, until we got to Aylesbury. Lieutenant de Havilland was driving the machine I was in. Captain Hamilton and Lieutenant Stuart were flying at a height of about 2,500 feet when I saw them last”. The two flying machines separated to make for their own designated reconnaissance areas. This was the last time that Major Brooke-Popham was to see his fellow aviators alive.
As Captain Hamilton began his descent over Stevenage towards the R.F.C. rendezvous point at Willian, it was evident to the many witnesses, who had turned out in their droves to see the flying machine, that the monoplane was in serious trouble. One of the witnesses Mr Walter Brett, landlord of the George and Dragon in Graveley, was later to tell the coroner. “I saw an aeroplane come from the direction of Stevenage. I noticed it wobbling about, up and down, and I watched it for a moment. I notice it give a bit of a dip down, and then came a report like a gun. I did not see any smoke. Then it seemed to collapse altogether and I was too horrified to look at it any more.” He went on to say. “It fell in the end of my meadow, about a hundred yards from the house. I ran to it as fast as I could, and all I could see when I got there was two legs sticking out from underneath the smashed machine. I did not see any signs of life. Several people came up after I shouted to them. The engine part was in my field. The two officers were lying with the machine right on top of them. Some part of the machine seemed to blow right away from it.”
Along with a local woman who had reached the crash scene at the same time, Walter Brett started to tug furiously at the airman’s feet, but only his boots came off. They were both now joined by others pouring into the meadow, including John Alldrit of Graveley who said, “I saw the aeroplane coming towards Graveley from the direction of Stevenage. I was standing outside my door watching it. I saw it give a quiver and then right itself. It was a fair height up but we could see it quite plainly. It then gave a dip but recovered itself again, and then suddenly seemed to turn turtle. It was travelling a good pace. I went as fast as I could to where the machine was and tried to lift it off the bodies, but it was too heavy for me.”
The remains of the airmen were removed to a nearby barn and Mr W P Grellet, a medical practitioner from Hitchin, was sent for. He later reported. “Practically every bone in their bodies was broken. The skulls of both men were extensively fractured and smashed to a pulp.” The bodies were then taken by horse-drawn ambulance, with a mournful escort of police and army officers, to the mortuary next to St. Saviours in Hitchin.
Both Captain Hamilton and Lieutenant Wyness-Stuart had joined the Royal Flying Corps from other regiments. Captain Hamilton from the Worcester Regiment and Lieutenant Wyness-Stuart from the Special Reserve of the Royal Artillery. Neither officer had held a flying license for much more than a year. Captain Hamilton had already survived a previous accident flying a similar Deperdussin in America. The aeroplane had caught an air pocket and was so slow that it turned upside down, and with the engine running at full pelt, struck the ground at an angle of forty-five degrees. “I was saved by the two very strong masts”. He proclaimed. So what caused the fatal accident on that Friday morning in September 1912?
The army had purchased the Deperdussin for the sum of one thousand pounds, and it had only been in their possession for about a week. At the time of the crash it had not done any more than six hours flying, having earlier won the two thousand pound prize at the Salisbury Plain trials and competition, when flown by a Frenchman. At the coroner’s inquest Mr Fritz Koothoven, the works manager to the British Deperdussin Aeroplane Company said, “I have seen the machine since it was wrecked. As a result of my examinations I am convinced that the beginning of the accident was due to part of the engine breaking and hitting the bonnet over the engine, smashing one of the wing wires and loosening the wing”. He went on to say “the machine was manufactured by the French company. One of the tappet rods was found about two hundred yards away from the machine. After such a breakage happened it was quite impossible for anyone to steer the machine”.
What many witnesses believed to be a body falling from the aeroplane was in fact the engine cowling breaking off. It had been hit by the broken rod then flew back and severed he main wire supporting the port wing. The wing then folded and collapsed. Superintendent George Reed, the Head of the Hitchin Police, later confirmed that the cowling had been found 300 yards from the crash site.
Souvenir hunters flocked into the meadow where the monoplane had come down, hindering the investigators. So much so that Hertfordshire police had to issue printed notices asking, “All persons in the locality to help the inquiry into the cause of the accident by bringing any pieces of the wrecked monoplane they may possess to the police, giving the exact spot where they found them. The pieces will be afterwards handed back to the finders”.
At the time of the crash Geoffrey de Havilland landed his BE2 to inspect the wreckage. He later wrote, “It was spread over a large area, indicating a progressive break up in the air.” He also went on to say, “It was crass stupidity to send pilots off on an icy morning flight, often of some hours, without so much as a cup of tea beforehand, but that was normal practice at the time, and I was feeling chilled all through, rather weak and with a vacuum inside when I landed beside the wreckage with it’s two battered and dead bodies. It was perhaps hardly surprising that, although I am not susceptible to fainting, I came nearer to doing so then than at any time in my life. Afterwards I had some sharp words with Brooke-Popham who was my passenger during the manoeuvres, and in future tea and biscuits were provided.”
A verdict of “Accidental death” was recorded. Captain Patrick Hamilton and Lieutenant Atholl Wyness-Stuart were the first servicemen to die in a military aircraft whilst flying under military orders...the first flyers to die on active service.
The funeral scenes at Hitchin were the most impressive the town had ever seen. The two bodies had rested since the accident in their oak coffins in the mortuary at the Church of St. Saviours. On Captains Hamilton’s casket was a large spray of lilies of the valley and arum lilies, tied with a broad white satin ribbon. It was from the officer’s fiancée, Derryle Low. On the plate was the inscription, “Patrick Hamilton, Royal Flying Corps; died September 6, 1912; aged 30 years.” Upon Lieutenant Stuart’s coffin the plate bore the words; “Atholl Wyness Stuart, of Edinburgh; born December 28, 1882; died September 6, 1912.” A wreath of amber and red chrysanthemums, tied with an amber ribbon rested on it. The words on the card read “In heart-broken remembrance; his wife.”
The general public was not admitted to the church as it was filled with members of the family and representatives of the Armed Services. There were units from the Brigade of Guards, Cavalry, Infantry, Artillery, Royal Engineers, Army Service Corps, Territorial, and, of course, the Royal Flying Corps. Also present was Mr G Norris Nicholson representing Colonel Seely, Secretary of State of War, and Brigadier-General Henderson of the Army Council. They brought with them two wreaths; one being laid on each of the flag covered coffins.
A hymn was especially composed for the service,
“Direct with thine all-seeing eye,
Watch each dread journey through the sky;
Through every storm and danger zone,
Bring each brave pilot safely home.”
As comrades of the Royal Flying Corps carried out the two coffins to the waiting gun carriages, the crowds were lining the streets up to ten deep. The funeral procession was led by the Hertfordshire police, followed by the band of the Hampshire Carabineers playing the funeral lament. Then came the members of the clergy behind the cross, followed by the first gun carriage, with the body of Captain Hamilton, drawn by a team of six horses with drivers of the Royal Horse Artillery. Walking on either side of the coffin were Major Brooke-Popham, Commander Samson of the Royal Navy and Captain B, Beor of the Royal Flying Corps.
Aviators of both the Army and the Navy accompanied the second gun carriage carrying the coffin of Lieutenant Wyness-Stuart, which was followed by the families of both the airmen. Members of the Royal Flying Corps carried all the wreaths. Behind them were naval representatives from the Central Flying School on Salisbury Plain, and the Lords of the Admiralty. The rear was made up of the Cavalry Brigades including men of the 19th, 3rd and 20th Hussars, 2nd Dragoon Guards, Royal Engineers, and the 9th Lancers. Finally, the Hampshire Carabineers, Army Service Corps and the Hitchin Company of the 1st Hertfordshire Regiment. The cortege slowly made its way through the streets of Hitchin to the railway station where the coffins were placed aboard the London bound Train. From there they were conveyed to their hometowns for private burial.
Captain Hamilton was interred at Hythe cemetery in Kent the following day with full military honours. Again Major Brooke-Popham and the officers of the Royal Flying Corps were present. Thousands of people came to pay their respects, and the route from the church to the graveside was lined with soldiers, policemen, coastguards and members of the National Reserve. The firing party was from the School of Musketry and the trumpeters of the 3rd Hussars sounded the “Last Post”. Mrs Bramston Hamilton watched as her forth son was laid to rest. Patrick Hamiton lost three brothers during the Boer War.
Lieutenant Wyness-Stuart was buried in the secluded little churchyard of Elm, near Frome in Somerset, a desire expressed in a letter to a friend only a few weeks before his death.


In the final week of September a large crowd once again gathered as the memorial stone, financed by local shilling subscription, was erected. Major Brooke-Popham made the final speech. “Some people may think a memorial stone a waste of money and that it would have been more profitable to give it to the hospital or some local charity. I beg to differ. We should be a poor nation without recollections of noble deeds and heroic deaths to inspire us. The careless child and the weary wayfarer will pass along this road, look at this stone, and read this inscription and realise that they, too, have a duty to perform. They will know that patriotism is not an empty word and that Englishmen are still ready to lay down their lives in the service of their country.”

The deaths of Captain Hamilton and Lieutenant Wyness-Stuart were a prelude to a number of disasters which clouded the first year of the Royal Flying Corps. A week later two more pilots, taking part in “The Grand Army Manoeuvres”, Lieutenant EH Hotchkiss and Lieutenant CA Bettington died in a similar crash near Oxford. The Gravely crash brought home to the public the fact that young men pioneering military aviation were in an occupation which was much more dangerous than glamorous. But as the following few years were about to show, “...Englishmen were still ready to lay down their lives in the service of their country.”


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