“Again,” said another, “look at the hair-breath escapes you have had, perhaps if you were to run alone these would be diminished.”
“And then,” suggested a third, “by being your own pilot you might attain to success and honour.”
This last inducement proved more weighty and seductive than the two former, and when the question was simply put whether if I would mind a run over to Brussels, just to put them right there for one or two ascents, I consented, but had no idea at the time that I was doing an act which would lead to my becoming a practical balloonist.
In the spring of 1848, therefore, I agreed to manage the said balloon, but before ascending I christened it the “Sylph,” and that word was painted three times in giant characters round the equator, so that wherever it appeared, or whichever way it turned, the name was always prominent.
My first ascent, as director in the Belgian capital, was to take place in the month of May, but a voyage by private arrangement was set on foot by way of a trial trip, and one of the owners, a Mr. S——, was to entrust his life to my care, and we were to go whither the winds blew us, on a sort of pleasure trip. The “Sylph” received a good supply of gas at the Independent Gas-works at Haggerston, London, on April 10th; early in the afternoon we ascended, and after being nearly three hours aloft came down near Colchester, passing directly over the county town of Essex.
This led on our way back to a call at Chelmsford, and as I knew several persons in that town who now learnt that I was commanding officer of the good craft “Sylph,” nothing would satisfy them but getting up an ascent there, and although I was averse to any undertaking of the sort in England, still I was over persuaded, and the rumour rapidly gained circulation that I should make a public ascent from the gas-yard of the town shortly, and that as it would be the first thing of the kind from Chelmsford for seventeen years, the inhabitants would hail such an exhibition with much pleasure and good attendance.
The first of my two ascents from this town took place April 28th, 1848. The weather was not exactly propitious, for the morning rose somewhat sulky.
“And her sick head was bound about with clouds,
As if she threatened night e’er noon of day.”
In this state of things, a postponement was contemplated, but soon after midday, the sun, “of this great world the eye and soul,” scattered the clouds and revived the preparations; there was, in fact, a complete revolution in the weather, and the curious began to gather in and take up their positions, while the bright eyes of many Essex ladies were directed, not to the six points of Chartism, just then famous, but to the one point where the silken craft towered above the adjoining buildings, as it was influenced by the breeze in the gas-works.