Abbas ibn Firnas’ Attempt At Flight
Illustration of Abbas ibn Firnas’ attempt at flight around 875AD. Firnas allegedly glided for some distance before crash-landing and injuring his back in the process.
Abbas ibn Firnas, also known as Armen Firman, was an Andalusian polymath best known for an attempt at flight around 875 AD. Details are scarce, but Firnas allegedly built a pair of wings and jumped from a tower somewhere in Córdoba. His wings allowed him to glide for a bit before crash-landing and injuring his back. The main source for this account is the Moroccan historian al-Maqqari, who wrote about the alleged event in the seventeenth century, hundreds of years after it would’ve taken place. al-Maqqari’s description follows:
“He covered himself with feathers for the purpose, attached a couple of wings to his body, and, getting on an eminence, flung himself down into the air, when, according to the testimony of several trustworthy writers who witnessed the performance, he flew a considerable distance, as if he had been a bird, but, in alighting again on the place whence he had started, his back was very much hurt, for not knowing that birds when they alight come down upon their tails, he forgot to provide himself with one.” [1]
What’s curious about Firnas and his leap of faith is the striking similarity to another alleged attempt at flight, by Eilmer of Malmesbury sometime in the early eleventh century in England. Both attempts were made from towers, and both attempts resulted in a gliding flight, with a crash landing that left each man injured. Also, each man blamed his crash landing on the lack of a tail in their designs, and each account we have today comes from a scholar who told the tale long after the events are said to have taken place.
This isn’t to say both or either of these men didn’t attempt to fly, however. There have been myriad attempts at flight throughout history, so there’s bound to be similar outcomes among the tales told. Each man would’ve observed birds and how they fly, so wings and a tail would make sense. In addition, it seems plausible that wings with enough surface area would allow the men to glide for some distance, and landing would be quite tricky on the first attempt, especially without a tail.
What’s more interesting is how both men have become famous for their flight attempts. Eilmer has a pub named after him, a stained-glass portrait in Malmesbury Abbey, and has woven himself into the local lore of the town. Firnas has a river in Córdoba and a crater on the Moon named after him, as well as a statue near the Baghdad airport. These homages show just how important human flight is for us, and just how deep our need for verticality goes.
Read more about other ideas for flying machines here.
[1]: White, Jr., Lynn. “Eilmer of Malmesbury, an Eleventh Century Aviator: A Case Study of Technological Innovation, Its Context and Tradition.” Technology and Culture Vol. 2, No. 2 (Spring, 1961): 97-111