Franz Reichelt; The Man That Plunged To His Death From The Eiffel Tower Testing His Homemade Flying Suit.
"Never regret thy fall, O Icarus of the fearless flight, For the greatest tragedy of them all, Is never to feel the burning light."
Franz Reichelt, a French tailor, inventor, and early parachuting pioneer, is now remembered for his ill-fated jump from the Eiffel Tower while testing a wearable parachute of his own design. Reichelt, who has come to be known as the “Flying Tailor,” was driven by a fervent desire to create a suit for aviators that could convert into a parachute, potentially saving their lives in the event of a mid-air emergency. His dedication to this idea ultimately led to one of the most tragic and entirely avoidable incidents in the history of early aviation.
The Birth of the Parachute-Suit
The early 20th century was a time of rapid advancements in aviation, accompanied by an inevitable increase in accidents. This period saw a growing interest in safety measures, particularly in developing an effective parachute. While early parachuting successes by pioneers such as Louis-Sébastien Lenormand and Jean-Pierre Blanchard relied on fixed-canopy parachutes, which were already open before the jump, the challenge of creating a parachute suitable for use from a moving aircraft or at low altitudes remained unsolved. André-Jacques Garnerin had previously invented a frameless parachute for high-altitude use, but by 1910, the need for a practical, lightweight parachute for aviators was pressing.
Reichelt seems to have been inspired by the tragic tales of fatal accidents among early aeronauts and aviators. He became fixated on the idea of a wearable parachute-suit—a design that was not much bulkier than the regular attire worn by aviators but had the potential to transform into a parachute. From July 1910, Reichelt began developing his “parachute-suit,” a creation consisting of a few rods, a silk canopy, and a small amount of rubber. This innovative combination allowed the suit to fold out into what Reichelt hoped would be a practical and efficient parachute.
The Struggle for Success
Reichelt’s early experiments were fraught with difficulties. According to the caretaker of his building, as quoted by Le Petit Parisien, Reichelt achieved some initial success with mannequins fitted with silk wings, which he threw from the building’s fifth story. However, this success was not widely corroborated, and most reports suggest that Reichelt struggled to create a functioning prototype. His original design used 6 square metres (65 square feet) of material and weighed around 70 kilograms (150 pounds). He presented his design to La Ligue Aérienne at the Aéro-Club de France, hoping they would test it, but they rejected his work, deeming the construction of the canopy too weak. Despite their advice to abandon the project, Reichelt persisted, conducting numerous experimental drops with dummies from the courtyard of his building on rue Gaillon. Unfortunately, none of these tests proved successful.
In 1911, the stakes were raised when Colonel Lalance offered a prize of 10,000 francs for a safety parachute for aviators—a prize double that of the previous year. The competition required the parachute to weigh no more than 25 kilograms (55 pounds). Reichelt refined his design, managing to reduce the weight while increasing the surface area of the material to 12 square metres (130 square feet). However, despite these improvements, his tests continued to fail, with dummies consistently falling heavily to the ground.
Undeterred by his failures, Reichelt announced to the press in early February 1912 that he had received permission to conduct an experiment from the Eiffel Tower, a dramatic move aimed at proving the worth of his invention. In his own words, he declared,
“I want to try the experiment myself and without trickery, as I intend to prove the worth of my invention” (Je veux tenter l’expérience moi-même et sans chiqué, car je tiens à bien prouver la valeur de mon invention).
On the morning of Sunday, 4 February 1912, at 7:00 a.m., Reichelt arrived at the Eiffel Tower by car, accompanied by two friends. Wearing his parachute suit, he appeared determined to proceed with the jump. Hervieu, a witness to the demonstration, attempted to dissuade Reichelt, arguing that the parachute needed more time to fully open than the brief drop from the first platform would allow. Despite these objections, Reichelt remained resolute, responding defiantly,
“You are going to see how my seventy-two kilos and my parachute will give your arguments the most decisive of denials” (Vous allez voir comment mes soixante-douze kilos et mon parachute vont donner à vos arguments le plus décisif des démentis).
The weather that day was cold, with temperatures below freezing and a stiff breeze blowing across the Champ de Mars. Some police officers were present to maintain order, as the Paris Police Prefecture had granted Reichelt permission to conduct the experiment. However, after his death, Louis Lépine, the Prefect of Police, clarified that the permission had been given under the assumption that only dummies would be used in the experiment. Under no circumstances would they have allowed Reichelt to jump himself if they had known his intentions.
From the moment he arrived at the tower, Reichelt made it clear that he intended to jump himself. This decision surprised even his closest friends, who had been unaware of his plan. They tried desperately to persuade him to use dummies for the test, suggesting that he would have other opportunities to make the jump himself. When these arguments failed, they pointed to the strong wind as a reason to delay the test. Yet, Reichelt was unwavering in his belief that his parachute would work. Speaking to journalists from Le Petit Journal, he expressed his confidence that his invention would be successful, dismissing any suggestions that he take additional precautions, such as using a safety rope.
At 8:00 a.m., despite some resistance from a guard who had witnessed previous failed tests, Reichelt was allowed to ascend the tower with his friends and a cinematographer, who captured the entire event on film. As he climbed the stairs, Reichelt paused, turned back to the crowd, raised his hand, and cheerfully wished them, “See you soon!” His friends continued their efforts to dissuade him, but Reichelt remained determined to prove the worth of his invention.
At 8:22 a.m., observed by around thirty journalists and curious onlookers, Reichelt stood on a stool placed on a restaurant table next to the interior guardrail of the tower’s first deck, approximately 57 metres (187 feet) above the ground. After adjusting his apparatus and checking the wind direction, he hesitated for about forty seconds before leaping outwards. Tragically, the parachute, which appeared only half-open, folded around him almost immediately. He fell for a few seconds before striking the frozen soil at the foot of the tower.
Le Petit Parisien reported that Reichelt’s right leg and arm were crushed, his skull and spine were broken, and he was bleeding from his mouth, nose, and ears. He was already dead by the time onlookers reached his body. The next day’s newspapers were filled with reports of Reichelt’s “tragic experiment,” complete with photographs. The footage of the event, including the removal of his body and the measurement of the crater left by his impact, was widely distributed by news organisations.
Initial reports speculated on Reichelt’s state of mind, with none assuming he was suicidal, though many deemed his actions reckless or foolish. A journalist from Le Gaulois suggested that only half the term “mad genius” applied to Reichelt. Yet, one of his friends revealed that Reichelt had felt pressured to give a dramatic demonstration in order to attract sponsors, without whom he could not hope to make a profit before any patent expired.
Reichelt’s death marked the first fatality from a parachuting accident since Charles Leroux’s death in 1889. Ironically, just two days before Reichelt’s jump, an American steeplejack named Frederick R. Law had successfully parachuted from the viewing platform of the Statue of Liberty—a feat that highlighted the dangers and unpredictability of early parachuting experiments.