In 1833 a young German officer in the Lincoln's union army, during the American Civil War, made the first breakthrough flight when he ascended the skies in an air balloon. However, the officer, Count Ferdinand von Zeppelin, took another thirty-five years before he formally began work on the first rigid dirigible - aptly named 'Zeppelin'. Still, there is every reason to suppose that it was his early adventures in flight in the US that made the count to eventually put his theories about ballooning into full operation. 

It was in 1898 when Count Zeppelin was 60 years old, when, after dogged persistence, he succeeded in obtaining enough funds to finance his first rigid dirigible. His initial funds came from various sources, including donations from the public, a special lottery for his project and quite a large portion of the Count's personal fortune. 

The German public was enthusiastic even though their government refused to assist him financially. The enthusiasm of the Germans was due in large to the Count's plans being endorsed by the Association of German Engineers, who had decided to support him after closely scrutinising his plans. The Count's plans for a rigid balloon were revolutionary because up to that time, balloons - even those being built by Santos-Dumont, which were proven to be navigable - were strictly one-piece bags.

Count Zeppelin's ideas were a sort of breakthrough. He proposed a framework of aluminium to form the base over which the outside fabric would be placed. Several individual containers of gas would be placed inside the bag. This improved feature was expected to prevent the whole balloon from collapsing or becoming unmanageable due to leakage of the lifting medium.

Zeppelin built a hangar near Friedrichshafen and took the first steps to bring his blue prints into practical reality. It was almost autumn, in 1899, when his first balloon was finished. The L.Z. 1, (Luftschiff Zeppelin 1) was 419 ft. long, 38 ft. in diameter and carried a gas content of 400,000 cu. ft.! At that time, it was a giant in comparison with any other balloon in the world and drew quite a bit of attention and comment from all over the world. 

The following July, Count Zeppelin announced that he would make the first trial. This attracted thousands of people to Lake Constance, including journalists, peasants and scientists. People of all ages and interests came to see this huge sausage-shaped balloon which would navigate through space. 

The morning of that epochal day dawned clear and bright matching the enthusiastic glint in Count Zeppelin's eyes. With open, childlike enthusiasm, he tested and examined the hundred-and-one vital parts of the L.Z. 1. The great crowds that had gathered about the lake stood in silent awe as the Count came out of the hangar, bareheaded, and reverently bowed his head in silent prayer. A few moments later, the roar of two powerful motors echoed over the still waters and slowly the dirigible glided from its hangar. And then, with that same serene indifference, the majestic L.Z. 1 floated upward, higher and higher into the full glare of the midday sun.

The crowd cheered wildly as if to announce the triumphant breakthrough in air travel. The L.Z.1 travelled for seventeen minutes and covered a total of three and a half miles before finally descending safely at Immenstadt. 

Although the experiment appeared to be a complete success to the majority of spectators, trained observers noticed that the dirigible was not always completely under control. Not only was the flight a short one, but also the changing winds threw it off course several times. Severe though the newspapers' criticisms were, the Count was convinced that their views were all wrong. The critics had seen the trial as a final step in Count Zeppelin's attempts when, in fact, it was merely the first steps of a toddler, the first experimental steps to develop a practical method of air travel.

From the beginning, so many difficulties had constantly blocked the Count's efforts that a weaker man would have abandoned the project. Though the setbacks were many and left scars on the inventor, he came back after every failure with ever-renewed courage and enthusiasm. One particular oppositiin that was especially painful was the series of critical articles which appeared in the Frankfurter Zeitung declaring that "dirigibility of a balloon was most problematic" and that Count Zeppelin's ideas were "much ado about nothing." These reports were simply signed, "Dr. E.". Though the suggestions have never been proven, it was believed that the criticisms had been written by Dr Hugo Eckener who, some thirty years later, would pilot the largest Zeppelin in the world! 

In the following year the L.Z.1 made another flight, and this time the airship travelled at a speed of 17 miles an hour, breaking all previous records. The stock company, which had been formed to give financial aid to these experiments, almost went broke but the public came to the Count's rescue again and enough money was raised to build another dirigible. Count Zeppelin also committed more of his private funds though this caused him to almost impoverish himself.

In spite of all the enthusiasm it commanded, the L.Z. 2, although it boasted several improvements and much more powerful motors than its predecessor, was doomed to a brief existence. When it had just taken off on its first flight, the motors stopped, leaving the balloon at the mercy of the elements. Though the Count managed to guide it carefully and bring it down safely disaster struck a few hours later near the town of Sommersried. A violent storm arose, after the descent, and tore the L.Z. 2 apart and reduced it to a twisted mass of scrap.

After this disaster, there were only two paths open to Zeppelin: to stop his experiments altogether, or, raise money for another airship. Being the man that he was, Zeppelin took the second option. He had made too many sacrifices at that stage to pull back. He had sacrificed his horses, his carriage and even his servants to cover the mounting expenses. Even at this stage, though there was enough reason to see that success was possible, perhaps even imminent, the Prussian Ministry of War refused to render any aid, and Kaiser Wilhelm flatly turned aside his petition. However, King William of Wurttemberg, who had constantly lent his moral and financial support to Zeppelin's work, agreed to float a lottery to assist him.

The final result was that in October of 1906, the L.Z. 8, a better and more stable airship, made two completely satisfactory flights. The sceptics realized their error. The successes caused the government of Prussia to reverse its attitude. They gave Zeppelin generous loans and held lotteries all over the nation to build dirigibles. The ' Reichstag passed a formal law, guaranteeing Federal subsidies on all future balloon construction. Within a few weeks, the aged German inventor became the hero of Germany. The Kaiser wrote him an emotional letter, which was practically an apology and the Chancellor reimbursed Zeppelin for all his personal funds which he had committed during his experiments.

After this, though later dirigibles did meet accidents occasionally, the Count's invention was vindicated and each successful flight made him more famous. By 1914 he had built 26 airships which were utilized for passenger, military, and naval service. In spite of his success, to the end of his days the Count remained practical in his views and maintained that the balloon would never become a perfect weapon for use in warfare. During World War 1, he visited Hindenburg at Pless and admitted that his airships were out of date for air warfare. He even went so far as to prophesy that the airplane, and not the Zeppelin, would rule the skies. He repeated this opinion a few months just before he died on 8 March 1917.