On that evening after the battle, when the cries of the wounded filled the air, as the roar of artillery ceased, and, as night approached, the earth was red dyed and sodden; but on this—inviting cheers of welcome came to us on all sides, and at Waterloo we met with a most friendly reception.
I made one more ascent in the year 1848, in Belgium; this time from the Bourse, at Antwerp. The voyage which was made under great disadvantages presented a rare and remarkable feature. The Englishman, with whom the reader has been made acquainted, was again commissioned to negociate with the gas directors of Antwerp, respecting an ample supply for the inflation; but it again happened that the delivery was by no means equal to our expectations. In fact, when the hour for departure arrived, the “Sylph” was not half full.
What was to be done? The visitors would be disappointed, and my own name connected with a failure.
“Well, that won’t do,” I remember saying, “if there is any means of rising above the Exchange, and clearing Antwerp, I must resort to it.”
“Give me a supply of cordage, and let me tie a few lines across the hoop, and see if there is gas enough to take me up without a car. Do not say a word to anyone, lest our plans are thwarted.”
Having placed myself in the hoop, without any other protection whatever, I found that the balloon would just raise me. The spectators were not aware that I was about to leave them, minus a car to sit in, so that, on mounting over their heads, great surprise was at first manifested, but followed quickly by expressions of approbation, when my risky position was known to be owing to a determination to fulfil my contract. I attained a great elevation during this trip, but, being without a barometer, I could only estimate it approximately at two and a half miles, and this was done by observing that the balloon rose until it became fully distended, and as it was not half inflated at starting, I knew I was quite, if not over two and a half miles high, because a volume of gas will double its bulk at an elevation of nearly three miles and three-quarters.
The excessive cold I experienced was no doubt to be attributed to the current of air passing through the ring, without being in any way broken either by a wicker car or extra clothing.
Not having any ballast to put out or to work with, I was anxious to allow the balloon to rise and fall by alternate expansion and condensation, without letting out gas through the upper valve.
My descent was safely made near Turnhout.
A messenger from Brussels, direct from Callow’s Hotel, arrived on the morning after the ascent, requesting an immediate interview on the part of a gentleman from Prussia, who was anxious to take me over the Rhine.