Chapter II: Part 2

In the year 1832, my father was taken seriously ill with a pulmonary complaint, brought on by injuries he received in boarding a Spanish line-of-battle ship. Several of his ribs were broken in this action, and he was never able to go to sea again, as it brought on spitting of blood. In the month of June he breathed his last, and as my mother was an invalid, and the neighbourhood was not considered to suit her case, we soon left the seaport and moved to Eltham, which was not far distant from Woolwich, where my eldest brother was previously stationed in a frigate. A school was selected for myself and second brother in the vicinity of Woolwich Common, where young gentlemen, as at Chatham, were prepared for the Military College.

During our stay at Eltham, I frequently used to spy balloons in the air, as they came from some of the Metropolitan gardens. Often have I watched them career along with a degree of interest which fast gained upon me, so that nothing would do, but I must go up to London and see, if possible, Mr. Green.

I was walking out one evening, when an object emerged from the clouds, which was rapidly descending. I perceived the grapnel at the end of a rope, and knew all about it in a moment.

Here was a chance of witnessing a descent. My heart leaped with joy, and I stood still until I made out the balloon’s course.

That being settled, I struck out like a hunter over hedges and ditches, and came up at the death before the gas had been exhausted.

It was Mr. Green’s balloon! The aëronaut was very busy, and, as I thought, rather ill tempered with the people for not standing back as he ordered them.

In my anxiety to get a close view, I first came in contact with the celebrated aërial voyager. I was pushing my way to the front ranks, and was looking at the valve, when I was admonished for my pains, and informed that I had better go to Greenwich Hospital. This advice raised a laugh, though I was at a loss to understand the reason, until my personal appearance became the subject of observation; then I perceived the force of Mr. Green’s remark.

It appeared that my face was covered with scratches and blood. I had unflinchingly taken the shortest route, and, in my excitement, had bounded through every obstacle that came in my way, even hedges and ditches, so that, without knowing it, I was the veriest object among the crowd, my clothes being bedaubed and torn; whilst my hands and face were scored terribly.

The ardent desire to have a close view of a balloon having been gratified, I now determined to watch the newspapers for the next ascent, and to be present at the inflation; but as aërial voyages were not quite so frequent about this time as they became a few years later, I had to wait some months; and as a change had taken place in my scholastic movements, I was not exactly master of my time, having become a parlour boarder at a fresh school, viz., at Northampton House, Camberwell.

It seemed a very long while before I heard anything in reference to an intended ascent. At last a placard caught my eye as I was out exercising with my schoolfellows.

Mr. Green was going up from the Surrey Zoological Gardens, and as our playground was not more than a mile distant in a straight line, I expected to get a tolerable view, especially as there were some stately elms in our grounds, which I was bent upon mounting.

Long before there was any chance of catching sight of the balloon, I had climbed up the highest tree by way of reconnoitering. The boys generally manifested great interest in the affair; but my zeal was acknowledged to be in advance of the rest, and I was considered an authority on the matter, and looked up to as one who could give information of the proceedings.

Twice had I perched myself on a lofty branch before I could announce anything satisfactory; at last I perceived the top of the balloon and communicated afterwards that it was filling out and getting higher, so that there was a general look-out, and when I signified that she was off, a cheer arose greeting the information, and there was a cry of “bravo Harry,” as if _I_ had committed myself to the realms of space instead of to the tree top as a mere look-out. Not many days passed before the faculty of imitation was brought into play, so far as we could manage it, in the hour allotted to recreation.

As to a balloon, we could not improvise one of any magnitude, but I bethought me that a car might be manufactured, and that we could attach this to a strong branch of an elm, and swing off as if we were emulating Mr. Green. A wooden construction was forthwith knocked up, and cords attached to take an equal bearing, and then a good thick rope was fastened to the whole and made fast to an elastic arm of the chosen tree; a second cord was fixed to the body of the tree by which the car was drawn in and secured. I then took my seat and invited a passenger to accompany me; it wasn’t every lad who cared about the venture, but I found a companion and let go the side rope. We swung out to a considerable distance, and fancied ourselves aëronauts; but the sport was cut short by the head master who would not sanction that particular kind of ballooning, as he considered it more perilous to life and limb even than a more extended flight in _nubibus_.

On the following Whit Monday I ascertained that Mr. Green was to make another ascent from the Surrey Gardens, and I obtained permission to devote that day to aëronautics. On my arrival in the morning I found that I was the first visitor, and that the gate had not been thrown open. When I had hung about and paraded up and down for more than an hour the gate-keeper took pity on me, and I was allowed to enter; not of course without paying. I found my way to the spot selected for filling, but no gas had gone in as yet, in fact Mr. Green and some other men were laying the balloon out, which suited me admirably, as I wished, beyond all things, to see the process from its commencement.

I was wondering whether the aëronaut would recognise me as the boy with a scratched face who made himself conspicuous at his former descent. The aëronaut, however, was intent upon his business and anxious to proceed with it, as I inferred from repeated references to an enormous silver watch.

Presently a workman presented himself with a large iron key to the gas valve, and this man, although a rough lazy-looking fellow, was pronounced by Mr. Green to be the most welcome visitor he had seen yet, by which I took it that he meant no offence to me, but that he was the individual who could render him the most important service. Shortly after the man with the key disappeared, the silk began to rise, and the aëronaut was all astir in allowing gas to flow towards the valve, and to expand the top part first.

I had a good opportunity of noticing every movement that was made, and in my eagerness to gather information I followed Mr. Green about, and almost fancied that he looked upon me as if I were too officious. I would fain have spoken to him, but there was a peculiar curl about his lips which conveyed the idea that I had better mind my own affairs, and leave him to himself. Still there was something strongly characteristic about his bearing I thought, he was very precise and skilful in his manipulations, and looked to me like a man who engaged in his vocation from motives of scientific interest, rather than from those of vanity.

I felt rather glad when the public began to assemble, especially on the arrival of some of Mr. Green’s friends, as I heard the passing conversation, and got some information in that way.

“Well Mr. Green,” said one gentleman, “who is going up to-day”?

“You are Sir, if you think proper, your twenty pounds is just as good as another’s.”

This interrogator confined himself to the one question, only he seemed quite satisfied. For my part I received a wet blanket to all my youthful aspirations. If that is the fee I thought, it will be many a day and year before I can think of ascending.

Although there was a splendid collection of animals to be seen, and many other things besides, yet I never left the balloon until it was filled and away. I question whether, among the young people assembled, there was a more attentive visitor than myself. The only drawback to the great pleasure I derived in seeing a balloon filled, was the appearance and manners of those connected with the undertaking.

I had read of Pilatre de Rosier, a man of high attainments, of Gay-Lussac, the eminent French chemist, and of Lunardi, the Secretary of the Neapolitan Ambassador; and I thought that the aërial party I had seen fell short of my expectations in more respects than one; but if the standard by which I ought to have judged was competency and professional aptitude, then I felt that credit for all that kind of thing was eminently due to the Greens.

Some time before my visit to the Surrey Gardens I had been amusing myself in making boats and in fitting them up for a miniature race in a large fish pond.

All my carpenter’s tools and ship-building knowledge were now thrown aside for Montgolfiers and air balloons. I could hold forth on aërostation and illustrate the principles of that science with tolerable proficiency by the time I was fifteen years of age. But I was devoting too much time to this kind of work, that is, if the opinions of my well wishers and friends were correct.

My elder brother, who was a wise and good man, thought it high time that more serious tastes appertaining to a profession should take the place of mere airy nothings, which appeared to absorb so much of my attention. It was pointed out, that as our prospects in life had been changed through certain property having passed into other hands, and as our interest, owing to the death of my father, was less likely than formerly to get myself and second brother into the navy and army, we should prepare ourselves, if need be, for commercial engagements, which would, perhaps, prove more advantageous and profitable than the kind of occupation we had been led to expect that we should ultimately be engaged in.

Although my eldest brother was a naval officer, yet he was of a philosophical and religious turn of mind, and his actions added such weight to his convictions, that he may be said to have been our second father in all kinds of excellent advice. It was not that he evinced the slightest indifference to any branch of science, on the contrary, he frequently used to converse with me about balloons, and was, to a certain extent, pleased that I had possessed myself of some information on the subject; but he laid stress upon the folly of one in my position thinking very much of such things, and I must needs own that his arguments had their temporary influence, and subdued for a while a passion which was seen to be growing by none more than those who were near and dear to me.

It was the year 1835, when I had shot up a few inches and had changed a blue jacket for a black tail coat, that the reality of life, and the importance of doing something, came pretty strong upon my mind. My brother John had already been despatched to a counting-house in Amsterdam, he had finally given up all hope of going to sea, and knew there was very little chance for me as regards the Army. Family affairs, and what is called destiny, seemed to be dead set against our serving our country, although no two boys ever longed to do so more than ourselves.

My eldest brother, too, had left the service, not on account of natural distaste to it, for no officer was ever more zealous, but, owing to religious scruples, he had resigned his commission just as he had completed a course of study on board the “Excellent.”

These slight references to domestic matters being essential, and indeed inseparable from my own life, I mention them--though with all possible brevity.

The tail coat and other indications of becoming a young man, did not produce a positive and settled belief in any special line of life for which I considered myself suited. I was by no means quick in forming an opinion myself. One of my sisters--I had two at that time--used to say I should make a good clergyman. Perhaps I might have done so, many a youth mistakes his calling; but the truth is that I hardly knew what to turn to.

In the meantime I used to indulge, oftentimes clandestinely, in my favourite pastime by visiting the public gardens of London; I should state by-the-bye, only to see what was going on in the aëronautic way.

During the following year something remarkable, in that line, had engaged public attention. It was the building of a very large balloon, at Vauxhall Gardens, by Messrs. Gye and Hughes, under the personal superintendence, and according to the plans of Mr. Green. This was something new and absorbing, that diverted my fancy from other affairs, and set me reading the papers and talking about the matter, until I became a perfect bore to my associates. I soon learnt full particulars, including the number of yards of silk to be employed, its texture and quality, the cubic contents of the balloon, and how many people it would raise, &c., &c., all of which induced me to believe that everybody was as interested in the affair as myself.

I prattled and enquired, until it occurred to the home minister, in other words, to my elder brother, that some step had better be taken to settle my mind in a solid and business train of thought.

Would I go to Holland, and become a merchant’s clerk?

No objection--I would try my hand at it, but I questioned whether I could stand it.

Was there anything to prevent my starting at once?

Nothing particular, only I should like to see the first ascent of that large balloon which was to ascend shortly.

What were such vain and trifling affairs compared with Henry’s future prospects? asked my sage mentor.

“Just so, but a week’s delay won’t make much difference,” was my answer, “especially as I have as yet no regular engagement.”

“Shall we arrange that you join your brother in September, at Amsterdam?”

“Yes, after the 9th, I shall be ready to leave.”

The launching of the Vauxhall balloon was a day “big with fate,” and the morning was auspicious; but at two o’clock the weather changed, and from that time until half-past four it rained incessantly. Thirty-six policemen were placed around the balloon during the inflation, each taking charge of one of the cords connected with the network. Forty-one iron weights, of fifty-six pounds each, were attached to the cordage; these were soon three feet from the ground, and the policemen were then compelled to pass their staves through the meshes, to prevent the cords cutting their hands. This combined resistance was, however, found insufficient, and twenty other persons were called to assist. By this time the netting and silk must have absorbed 300 lbs. weight of water, besides a quantity retained on the top of the balloon. The inflation was completed in four hours and five minutes; twenty-four bags of ballast, weighing together 400 lbs., were then placed in the car, and the grapnel was attached with an elastic cord of caoutchouc and hemp, which was designed to prevent any sudden jerk in stopping the balloon.

The aërial party consisted of nine persons, including five of the family of the Greens, besides Captain Currie, Mr. Hildyard, Mr. Holland, Mr. Edwin Gye and Mr. William Hughes--sons of the proprietors of Vauxhall Gardens.

The appearance of the balloon was truly magnificent; and, though ponderous, nothing could exceed its graceful beauty. Mr. Green found that the ascending power was considerably more than he had announced to the public, he was therefore compelled to allow 15,000 cubic feet of gas to escape before he could release the balloon from its moorings, there not being room in the car for more voyagers.

All being ready, the ropes were loosened, and the stupendous machine shot rapidly into the upper regions. It proceeded at first to the east, but soon took a south-easterly direction.

The gardens, and every avenue leading to them, appeared to be one solid mass of human beings; in fact there was not an elevated spot within two miles which was not covered with spectators.

The course of the balloon was along the Thames, in the direction of Gravesend. The grappling iron first touched ground near the village of Cliffe, in Kent; and, after slightly catching several times, took a firm hold. The voyagers enjoyed themselves much.

This imposing spectacle having passed off satisfactorily, and a large amount of curiosity having been gratified on my side, I was now ready to start for Amsterdam. A berth was secured on board the “Romona,” and I left St. Katherine’s Wharf in tolerable spirits; but in passing Southend and Sheerness I fell into a dejected mood, when I contrasted my youthful longings with the present mercantile mission to Holland. It was of no use, our interests with the Navy and Army authorities had been neglected, the heads of the family had taken a more serious turn, and it was absolutely necessary that I should do something for my living.

On leaving the Nore and getting well out to sea, our passengers on deck had wonderfully decreased; there was a stiff breeze on, and the attendance at dinner fell short of the steward’s expectations. Those who were equal to feeding became none the less sociable, and I was glad to sit by the side of a communicative young merchant bound for the Rhine. Among other topics, the subject of aërostation was broached by my fellow-traveller; he, too, had seen the ascent of the great balloon, and longed some day, like myself, to have an aërial excursion.

The more we got away from land, the stronger it came on to blow, in fact we had a very dirty night of it, but crossed the bar all right soon after daylight, and got up to Rotterdam about the time we were expected. My brother John, who was there to meet me, proposed that we should go to the Dutch capital by a canal boat: I was agreeably surprised to find how fluently he could chat to the men, and with what apparent ease he smoked an enormous pipe and drank black coffee.

After a week’s wandering about Amsterdam, I was introduced for the first time into a counting-house. I made a great effort for some weeks to take an interest in the proceedings and to do as I was requested, but natural aptitude failed me. I did not take kindly to a single duty and became conscious that I was looked upon as a dunce. A sharp bilious attack followed my novitiate, and it was pretty evident that whatever my element might be, I was not in it at that particular time and place.

As the long evenings came on, my brother used to read and translate the newspapers.

About the second week in November he observed some intelligence which was sure to please and excite me.

“Now, do pay attention, Henry,” he added, “Mr. Green has crossed the Channel, with two other gentlemen, in the Vauxhall balloon, and landed in Germany.”

“Read on, I am all attention John.”

I then heard the full particulars of that extraordinary voyage. The result was a balloon fever, which was by no means suited to my position at that time.

My brother and Herr von L---- observed in me a greater distaste than ever to counting-house duties, and I was heartily glad when an unexpected turn in our affairs was brought about, by which we were to leave Amsterdam and return home.

A change of our family residence was the next movement of any importance in my history. We had resolved upon going up to London. My brother John was now provided for, and I was to watch his advancement, and, if possible, follow in his steps, as there would be no difficulty in getting a berth for me.

Eventually I tried my hand at it, but it was of no use; I sickened and gave it up, much to the disappointment of my friends.

Whatever was to be done with me now? That, indeed, was a serious question.

“I think,” said an observing acquaintance one evening, as he placed his hand towards his mouth as if in the act of removing some artificial teeth, “I have thought of an occupation that will suit Henry. This morning,” he said, “I had occasion to visit my dentist, and he inquired if I knew of any youth of a mechanical turn of mind who would like to become his pupil.”

The idea was no sooner broached than it struck me as being in the right direction.

I caught at it and agreed to turn it over in my mind, nor did I fail to do so. Forthwith I waited upon several surgeon-dentists, and at last had an interview with a very clever practitioner, who had formerly been a surgeon in the navy. This gentleman was eminently calculated to ingratiate himself, and to present to my notice the kind of work which a dental student would have to perform.

It was not long before an agreement was drawn up, and I embarked in the undertaking.

The right vein was here hit upon, it was thought. I set to with a will, and ere many weeks had elapsed, I brought home such specimens of workmanship as warranted the expectation that I should soon take to, and excel in my new vocation.

As it happened, both departments of dental surgery became equally attractive; that is the surgical as well as the mechanical. By the time I was proficient and just of age, I became entitled to an amount of cash, which enabled me to order a brass plate and commence business with patients on my own account. I had to form a connection, however, and to bide my time for the coming in of fees.

Unfortunately, perhaps, this uphill beginning left a deal of spare time on my hands, so that ever and anon I required--or thought I did--a little recreation.

In taking up a newspaper to see what was going on in the way of rational amusement, I happened to observe an advertisement of an intended balloon ascent by Mr. Hampton.

This notice, coupled with a desire for change, led me to decide upon an outing. My taste for ballooning grew apace, and soon became a passion. Whenever an ascent was advertised I was almost sure to be there, and, as a strong liking for any adventurous and scientific calling leads to acquaintance with kindred spirits, I became familiar with a number of regular attendants at balloon _fêtes_, and soon acquired a reputation for knowing as much--and some said more--than many of those who had been brought up to it.

From my seventeenth up to my twentieth year I had seen most of the aërostatic sights that had engaged public attention near London. I had witnessed a balloon race from Vauxhall, and saw the aërial competitors come in actual collision without doing injury. I had seen Mrs. Graham ascend and her husband as well. I had seen the great Nassau balloon before and after it took Messrs. Hollond, Green, and Mason to Germany, as already described.

In the year 1837 I went into ballooning with a will, and my visits to the balloon grounds were regular, but I was prevented from seeing Mr. Cocking’s parachute attached to the great balloon, although I saw it suspended in the air from London Bridge as it bore down Eltham way, and was struck with its cumbrous and rigid convex form, so ill adapted, I thought, to offer sufficient resistance, and to possess adequate strength for reaching the ground in safety.

After the death of Mr. Cocking I saw Mr. Hampton descend in a parachute from Bayswater, and this led to my becoming acquainted with that gentleman some little time afterwards.

I was disappointed of an ascent with Mr. Hampton, as his balloon “Albion,” which was rather small, would only take the aëronaut when I wished to make my maiden ascent. This was the year (1837), a period when I became a diligent student in aërostatics, and, it is not too much to say, that I had shown similar application in dental surgery, indeed I found that all I was called upon to learn was so easy and pleasurable in acquisition that I made light of my duties, and failed not to devote considerable attention to my hobby as well.

One day I met Mr. Hampton in Westminster, full of trouble and anxiety at the way he had been treated by those who had reason, as he alleged, to be his friends. We walked and talked together, entering upon a chapter of misfortunes, which touched me much at the time, and induced me not only to sympathize with him, but to use my best endeavours to assist his cause.

There is no necessity for entering into the way in which he had lost his balloon, suffice it to say that I did all I could to redeem it, and in return the aëronaut took great pains to give me all the information he could about aërostation, and he promised the moment he had a new balloon to take me up with him, and he moreover presented me with a good portrait of himself, the massive frame to which was made by Mr. Hampton’s own hands. This intimacy, and the espousal of the aëronaut’s cause, drew upon me the frowns of several persons connected indirectly and professionally with ballooning.

Knowing some of Mr. Charles Green’s friends I was rather hankering to see more of the air-captain, as the Germans style us, but I knew by experience that “two of a trade seldom agree,” and I was naturally reluctant to offend my patron by being intimate with Mr. Green, whose fame was of long standing and very properly universal.

Circumstances soon brought us together, but on meeting I was impressed with the belief that I was regarded as the advocate of an opposition aëronaut, and not as one upon whom Mr. Green would lavish his experience, or whom he would take up either as a paying passenger or pupil. I was evidently considered a dangerous fellow, and as Mr. Hampton had once stated that he thought I should one day become an aëronaut, although at the time I had no serious intention of doing so, this was quite sufficient to cause me to be shunned by all the family of the Greens, or, if not exactly shunned, at least viewed with caution and suspicion.

For three years I was in the habit of meeting Mr. Hampton and of talking over ballooning, until I grew well nigh surfeited with the tongue part of aërial voyaging, and longed for the reality, which was delayed until the year 1844. Mr. Hampton was then enabled with my assistance to start a new balloon, and I had an opportunity of seeing the construction of it. His first engagement with this was at the Old Vauxhall Gardens, in Birmingham, and thither I went to be his companion, but, to my mortification, the balloon would not raise two persons, so that I had to remain on terra firma, and suffer the taunts of several spectators, who chose to attribute to motives of fear my getting out of the car after having been once in for the ascent.

My third attempt was successful. Mr. Hampton was solicited to make an ascent from the White Conduit Gardens, Pentonville, on Monday, August 19th, 1844, and I was without fail to accompany him.

Many years had elapsed since the ascent of a balloon from these famed gardens; the attraction was accordingly very powerful.

The balloon was filled at the Imperial Gas Works, Battle-bridge, and the car placed on a cart, to which it was secured by ropes; it was conveyed to the gardens by six o’clock on Monday morning, an extra supply of gas being provided to keep up the loss by condensation.

Before the public entered the grounds, it was rumoured by the privileged few who were present that a _Mr. Wells_ was to be the aëronaut’s companion, as that gentleman had recently been disappointed at Birmingham. Some other persons, mentioning my name, declared that Mr. Coxwell was to be the favoured party.

An appeal was then made to me for authentic information, and as I was now within a stone’s throw of my residence in the Barnsbury Road, Pentonville, where I had recently commenced practice, it was expedient I should frankly declare that I had previously assumed the name of Wells in order to prevent anxiety among my friends, and that the candidate _Wells_ and the aspirant _Coxwell_ were one and the same person.

This being understood, and the motives which actuated me in taking upon myself an _alias_ being respected, Mr. Hampton, at six o’clock, accompanied by Mr. Wells (as “the Illustrated News” recorded it), stepped into the car, and the balloon rose in majestic style, travelling easterly over the metropolis, and descended in a field belonging to Mr. T. Rust, at East-ham Hall.

This, then, was my first real ascent; but such was the amount of thought I had bestowed on the subject in previous imaginary flights, built upon the descriptive accounts of others, that I seemed to be travelling an element which I had already explored, although, in reality, I was only for the first time realising the dreams of my youth. In most respects I found the country beneath, including the busy humming metropolis, the River Thames, shipping, and distant landscape, pretty much as I expected, and had been tutored to see in the mind’s eye; but the extraordinary and striking feature of this ascent was the enchanting way in which these appearances unfolded themselves in a manner so opposite to what one would picture by looking at a balloon in the sky. This is owing to the peculiarly imperceptible way in which a balloon rises, and herein consists the difference--the delightful, fascinating difference--between heights accomplished by balloon ascents, and altitudes attained by climbing hills, mountains, monuments, and buildings. In Alpine travels the process is so slow, and contact with the crust of the earth so palpable, that the traveller is gradually prepared for each successive phase of view as it presents itself; but in the balloon survey, cities, villages, and vast tracts for observation spring almost magically before the eye, and change in aspect and size so pleasingly, that bewilderment first, and then unbounded admiration is sure to follow, and when one reflects that all these wonderful panoramic effects are produced by the noiseless, unobserved, ascension of the balloon, we are reminded of the motion of the earth which rolls us round the glorious sun, and the heavenly orbs, so that they, the sun, stars, and planets, appear to be rising and setting.

It is just so with the balloon--a wide-spread carpet of variegated country is changing form, hue, and dimensions, or rather appearing to do so, as the observers rise and descend, and assume various elevations.

Our journey only lasted twenty-five minutes, but it seemed to me when we descended that the balloon had not been more than five minutes in the air. After we anchored I felt that it was a tantalising short-lived piece of grandeur and only enough to whet the appetite for more.

But a second chance was at hand. Mr. Hampton had been asked to ascend from Bromley, in Kent, where such an exhibition was quite a novelty. The undertaking, however, was of too formidable a character for the small gas-works and diminutive pipes in that locality. Visitors who congregated in a meadow selected for the festivities were not gratified with the ascent on the day it was announced to take place; consequently fresh exertions had to be made in the production of gas, and not until the following evening was the balloon fit to ascend, and, even then, it would barely take two, so that I had another narrow escape of being left behind after arranging to go. It was necessary to part with very nearly all the ballast in order to rise.

We started sluggishly, but got up two thousand feet, and there had a splendid view over the garden of England, as the county of Kent has not inaptly been styled. Short and sweet was the order of this second trip of mine, but, as we had a remarkably picturesque country to gaze upon, I was much annoyed at not being longer aloft, and I don’t know but that I vowed--at any rate the idea flashed through my mind--that I would one day have a balloon of my own, even if it were for unprofessional ascents, as these hasty, short views were most aggravating and by no means worth the expense.

Shortly after my being thus initiated into practical ballooning, Mr. Hampton undertook a tour to Ireland; but there, in Dublin, he had the misfortune to descend near a house, the chimney of which was on fire, and his balloon, blown in that direction by a sharp breeze, ignited, but the aëronaut happily escaped with his life.

It was a long time before Mr. Hampton was in a condition to ascend again. In the meantime other balloonists had made my acquaintance, viz., Mr. Gypson, and Lieut. Gale, both of whom sought co-operation, and frequently offered me seats in their cars, as some acknowledgment for the advice and assistance I had rendered them.

Mr. C. Green invariably gave me the cold shoulder. I was rather sensitive about this at the time, but in later years, when I began to obtain a reputation for myself, I came to the conclusion that it was the greatest compliment the greatest aëronaut of the day could award me, inasmuch as it indicated that I was somebody to be studiously kept in the background for an obvious purpose.

During the autumn of 1845, I projected and edited “The Balloon or Aërostatic Magazine,” a publication designed to advance aërostation. A good reception greeted the little serial on the part of the press, but the demand for information on this subject was not equal to my enthusiasm, and as a monthly repository of travels by air, it did not pay, so that its periodical appearance was discontinued, and afterwards it was only published occasionally.

In the year 1847, three new balloons were constructed by the aëronauts, Green, Gale, and Gypson, respectively. Mr. Green, junr, also made one about this time, intending to use it principally on the continent.

With two out of these four balloons, I had a great deal to do, as will soon be seen.

Let us commence with Mr. Gypson’s, as it was the first on the stocks, and the first to make a perilous ascent and descent. When this balloon was finished, Mr. Gypson and myself determined upon a private ascent; we desired a long trip, and would not even object to cross the Channel, if the breeze should waft us in that direction. The Imperial Gas Works, at Haggerston, in London, was the place we started from. The new machine was taken there to be inflated on the day selected, which was favourable, the wind being from the S.S.E., so that we had a long run before us, and a good opportunity of reaching Scotland.

Owing to the close proximity of the balloon to the gas-holders, the filling proceeded very rapidly; it appeared to me that the inflation should be checked somewhat, but the aëronaut considered his arrangements equal to any pressure that could be put on by Mr. Clarke, the gas-engineer. It was soon evident that the network was not liberated so quickly as it should have been; the consequence was that a lateral and unequal strain began to be imparted, and just as I had gone away to speak to some gentlemen who had arrived, by invitation, the netting began to break towards the lower part, but the damage was not apparently sufficiently serious to prevent the ascent being made. We therefore got into the car, and notwithstanding several broken meshes, prepared for a start, but while sitting in readiness, a sudden gust drove the silk with considerable force towards the fractured cordage, which continued breaking, until the lower part of the silken bag protruded, and then, the entire balloon surged through the opening, leaving the network behind, which dropped on our heads, so that the balloon itself escaped, leaving us in the car to receive the ironical congratulations of our friends, who had come to see us go up.

Not many seconds after the silken bag had bounded away, it split up, and descended in a brickfield, not far distant. It is almost impossible to imagine a more ridiculous position for expectant voyagers to be placed in than this.

The assembled spectators pronounced it a mercy that we had not ascended, and that the breakage had not happened in the air. They believed we must have been killed had not the balloon escaped just when it did; but I was of a different opinion, believing that if once we had got away, no bad results would have occurred while we were travelling aloft.

The balloon was forthwith repaired, and a second private attempt made on March 18th in the same year. This time we had a successful day, and came down all right at Hawkhurst, in Kent, not far from the residence of Sir John Herschel. In the evening we were invited to Collingwood, where we spent a most agreeable and instructive time with the eminent astronomer.

Soon after this event Lieutenant Gale’s balloon was launched at the Rosemary Branch Gardens, Peckham.

Here, too, I was invited, and almost persuaded to make the first trip; but as I had condemned certain new fashioned valve-springs, which I considered unsafe, I preferred to witness rather than participate in the ascent. Mr. Gale wished also to use a pair of supplementary small balloons to receive the expanded gas; but these, I thought, were open to objection, so that I could not possibly join the lieutenant at the time he was applying appurtenances, which I had pronounced dangerous.

The balloon, a very fine one, was duly filled, and the ascent nicely made. A Mr. Burn took my place, and I was rather joked, I remember, when the new balloon floated majestically in the still atmosphere.

Events, however, soon took a sudden turn. Gale had promised to travel far down towards the coast, and had, it appeared, suddenly altered his mind, as the balloon began descending fast.

“Perhaps,” said some one, “he has forgotten something as it is coming down so soon, and will go up again and continue his journey.”

But the rate of descent increased so rapidly, that Mrs. Gale ran to me and inquired anxiously for my opinion.

I was obliged in candour to say, as I was considered an authority, that I feared the flat valve-springs had not quite answered Gale’s expectation; “but he will be all right,” I said, encouragingly, “even if he has a good bump.”

Ballast was soon observed to pour out profusely, and there was no doubt of the voyagers being sensible of the frightful pace at which they were coming down. The lower part of the balloon was seen to contain no gas, so that its collapsed condition was visible to everyone present.

Several persons started off to see the cause of so sudden a descent. As to myself I remained with Mrs. Gale, making light of what really looked serious, in order to allay her alarm.

A messenger soon arrived to say that neither the aëronaut nor his companion were seriously hurt, but that they alighted with terrific force at Peckham Rye, owing to the valve-springs not having acted properly.

Gale, himself, soon put in an appearance, inquiring for me. He said, “You are quite right as to those springs; I will abandon them, and you shall ascend next time.”

It was not long before I did so.

Pleasure gardens in and about London were rather numerous in the year ’47, and the Royal Albert Grounds, near Hoxton, were just in their palmy days. It was here I made the next ascent with Lieut. Gale, and one or two with Mr. Gypson also; but as these gentlemen were competitors for aëronautic fame, I was constantly risking the displeasure of both by not adhering entirely to one.

During the same summer I made a variety of aërial journeys with each of these aëronauts, but, two especially, were connected with considerable personal risk.

The first was with Lieut. Gale, when we descended in a rough wind in Gloucestershire, after having started from Bristol.

A new fangled grapnel was used in this trip, and one ill adapted for arresting the progress of a balloon in a strong wind. It was on the ball and socket principle; but the socket, which was of brass, was inside the crown of the prongs. I prophesied before any strain was thrown upon the grapnel that it would break. It did so in trailing over a field, when the balloon dashed into a large oak tree, cutting asunder a thick branch, which ripped the silk from bottom to top, so that the gas escaped instantly, and we pitched to leeward of the tree with no trifling concussion, by the way, but got no broken bones or serious injury.

The second affair was, without doubt, the most perilous descent in the annals of aërostation.

In the year 1847, the far-famed Vauxhall had not altogether lost its _prestige_; but still, exciting amusements were indispensable to its continued existence, and aëronautics had enjoyed long-continued popular favour in that establishment. But a nocturnal voyage with fireworks displayed under the balloon, was not of frequent occurrence, and a night ascent with Mr. Gypson’s balloon was decided upon as an opportune attraction.

My own seat in the car was owing to special invitation on the part of the proprietor, but two other candidates--viz. Mr. Albert Smith and Mr. Pridmore, only secured places on the afternoon of the ascent.

Mr. Albert Smith at that time was a popular writer; and, as he had already made a day ascent, he wished to see London by night, and to give an account of it to the public.

When the balloon was filled during the afternoon, in the Waterloo Grounds, the air was calm and hot, with every prospect--as far as appearances went--of a fine summer evening. It was just the sort of weather for an aërial journey in the dark, there was no rustling of leaves, or wild gusts to induce the least apprehension of a disagreeable landing.

The inflation was completed with the utmost ease, and just before the variegated Vauxhall lamps were lighted, a circular framework, with Darby’s fireworks attached, was duly placed in position, so that it could be fixed on when the moment arrived for starting.

About this time it was observed that the atmosphere became oppressive, and that a threatening murky mist arose in the east; not long afterwards, distant thunder rumbled, and people began to scan the firmament, as if it looked uninviting, and as if the terrestrial sight-seers would be safer that night than the air explorers. As for us, we drew together and exchanged opinions, like mariners before leaving a port when dirty weather was looming on the horizon.

The lessee of Vauxhall Gardens, Mr. Robert Wardell, having noticed lightning playing over the city, came forth, with other interested parties, to look around him; and soon a grave discussion was going on near the car, for the storm was fast brewing, and there was doubt as to whether it would be safe to venture. In the midst of great diversity of opinion, a direct appeal was made to me, and I gave it in as my conviction that, if the ascent were made quickly, and everything well managed, there need be no apprehension.

The fireworks--weighing over 60 lbs.--were now connected, and gentlemen were requested to jump in; for my own part, I decided upon jumping up on the hoop, so as to see the neck clear, and report to Mr. Gypson when the upper valve required opening.

I had never made a night ascent previously, but had formed my own opinions as to the particular line of action desirable, and especially under existing circumstances, when the air was highly charged with electricity, and when a large amount of weight was about to be lost owing to the combustion of the fireworks.

We left in grand style. A salvo of garden artillery announced the slip of the cable, and the most beautiful red and green fires changed the hue of the silken globe as it rose over the heads of the people; and just as these grew faint the aërial pyrotechnics burst forth, and the cheers rose lustily as each device engaged attention--for every piece was artistically arranged; and when the Roman candles shot out their many-coloured stars, and petards burst with a crashing sound, and golden and silver showers enlivened the darkness of mid-air, every spectator seemed to be in ecstacy; nor was there a single shout of dissatisfaction or fear, until nature--as if displeased with man’s efforts to light up the elements--broke out in apparent discontent; and a wide-spread flash, with deep-toned thunder overhead, arrested public admiration, and produced a death-like pause, both with us in the car and those on the earth--all of whom had seen us enveloped, apparently, in a flame of fire.

Our own feelings at this critical period can very well be imagined. We were now some 4000 feet high, in a storm of thunder and lightning, our fireworks were hardly spent and the balloon was mounting rapidly and was fully distended, so that close watching, and a proper line of action, could alone secure our safety.

When, after another flash or two, the gas rushed out of the safety valve, I looked at Mr. Gypson, wondering how he intended to act, and it was not long before I came to the conclusion that the upper valve ought to be opened so as to remove a visible strain on the lower hemisphere of the balloon. Had _I_ seized the line and opened the valve I should most assuredly not have done wrong, but I simply, by pointing and hinting, endeavoured, with too much deference, to persuade him to do as I thought expedient.

He was not, evidently, quite of the same way of thinking as myself; at last I cried out, “if the valve is not opened the balloon will burst.”

Hardly had I uttered the warning when the car appeared to drop suddenly some six or eight feet beneath the balloon.

We all looked up, of course, affrighted, thinking that the netting was giving way at the top, and Mr. Albert Smith was impressed with the idea that I had pulled the valve line, and broken the framework; but on looking upwards the sparks from the expiring fireworks, aided by a flash of lightning, disclosed the awful fact that the balloon had rent fully sixteen feet, and that we were falling headlong right over the west end of London, with myriads of gas lamps beneath us, and houses in such close proximity, that death stared us all in the face, and seemed inevitable.

Situated as I was, on the hoop, with a better opportunity of observing the torn silk and network than the rest, I noticed after the first shock to the nerves, that the line which connected the neck of the balloon was unduly tightened, and it immediately occurred to me if I cut that, the lower part of the balloon would the more readily form a resisting surface or parachute.

Much against the wishes of my companions I severed this cord, and a check was soon observable, but the sparks from the paper cases shot up among the gas through the tear in the silk, and once more the thunder roared, and lightning flashed, so that a more frightful descent to the earth could not possibly be imagined.

As the gas-lit metropolis appeared to come up towards us--for, strange as it may seem, there was no sense of giddiness or dropping--we collected the ballast bags and disconnected the grapnel rope in order to let them go just as we came in contact with the ground.

Fortunately, or rather say providentially, the balloon fell in a newly formed street in the Belgrave Road, Pimlico, while the network caught in some scaffold poles, which helped to break the force of collision.

Only one of the four of us was hurt, and that was myself, who received a cut in the hand from a bystander while he was trying to let us out of the network, which fell over our heads when the car touched the road.

Albert Smith and Mr. Pridmore lost no time in going back to Vauxhall Gardens to assure people of our safety; but the general public were not aware of the accident, although some few, who narrowly watched the course of the balloon, noticed that it appeared to be falling quickly and surrounded with sparks.

Almost the first person Albert Smith was said to have encountered on entering Vauxhall, was his brother, who looked amazed at seeing him, but observed a certain pallor and other indications of something being out of order.

“Good gracious, Albert,” he said, “I could have declared I saw you go in the balloon.”

“So you did,” was the reply, “don’t be alarmed, an accident happened, but no one is hurt. Come and tell Mr. Wardell particulars.”

After Mr. Gypson and I had returned with the luggage on top of a cab, a consultation was held as to the cause of the rupture; one thought the valve was broken, and another that the balloon was struck with the electric fluid, but the proprietor, as well as myself, knew the precise cause of the burst, and when an examination was made on the following morning, the valve line was found not to have been pulled, so the rent could clearly have been prevented had the valve been opened in time.

Divested in this way of a great deal of the horror associated with the stormy state of the weather, the accident assumed a more simple and comprehensible form.

No wonder, therefore, that after talking these points over, Mr. Gypson and I agreed, that in order to demonstrate that the balloon was not wanting in strength, it would be well to make another ascent by night with fireworks. Mr. Albert Smith was again invited, but a certain pressure, exercised perhaps wisely, by his friends prevented him from ascending again.

Mr. Pridmore, too, although as brave as need be, did not join us; but that very night week, with double the weight of fireworks, we ascended again with the restored balloon, and this time all went well, and we came down at Acton, having with us a third voyager, in the person of a captain, who had accompanied us under circumstances characteristic of an Englishman, and, perhaps, worth narrating.

Some little time before starting the said captain applied for a seat in the car, and I was asked to negotiate for him, in doing which I thought it but right to explain that an accident had happened the week previously and that Mr. Gypson was by no means desirous of taking a third person on the present occasion.

After I had again alluded in unmistakable terms to the perilous descent, the captain, in no way discouraged, said:

“Well sir, you are taking a great deal of trouble to inform me of that which is patent to everybody who reads, but I suppose the odds are that to-night there will be no smash.”

“Just so,” I added encouragingly, when the gallant gentleman stepped forward and took his place.

After the balloon was packed up at Acton I fancied that our companion looked as if he was happy and self-satisfied, he begged of us to go with him to his club, adding that he could well afford to offer an entertainment as he had made a wager of one hundred pounds that he would ascend that night, a decided opinion having prevailed at his club that he dare not do so, as a terrible catastrophe would be sure to take place, and so thought the public apparently, for Vauxhall was filled to such an extent that the garden officials described the crowd as so thick that one might have walked on people’s heads.