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.