I made arrangements, therefore, to ascend from the New Globe Gardens, Mile End Road, not far from the site of the People’s Palace, also from the Eagle Establishment, City Road, and from the new grounds, which had just been started at North Woolwich, under the name of the Pavilion Gardens.
What with Cremorne and the above named localities, I ascended three or four times in a week, and at the termination of 1852, added thirty-six voyages to my former ascents, which dated in rapid succession from my first as an amateur in the year 1844.
There was one peculiarity about the ballooning at North Woolwich, which caused a fund of amusement on the Thames and the garden esplanade; this consisted in crossing over from the gas-works at Woolwich, the car being fastened in a ferry boat with a steam-tug ahead, which towed the balloon across the river to the Pavilion Gardens.
On one occasion I was engaged somewhere else, when the directors particularly wanted an ascent. I recommended an aëronaut with whom I had long been acquainted, and the way he acknowledged my kindness was by finding fault with the manner I moved my balloon, offering at the same time to show the real and scientific style of doing it properly. But this aëronaut lost his balloon in the attempt, it bounded away out of control, burst in the air, and came down a wreck.
My concluding ascents in 1852 took place at Glasgow. Mr. Maxwell, my compagnon de voyage on the second ascension on October 14th 1852, confirms the account descriptive of our own feelings, and which is a very fair representation of other people’s when they go up in a balloon. A few extracts will be useful, as they apply generally to the subject.
“Before taking a seat in the car for the first time, imagination is busy picturing the scenes and sensations which belong to an aërial voyage. However great one’s courage may be, there are always little fears as to personal safety, and it is owing to this feeling before starting, that the first great impression is made on the mind, when the traveller finds, on rising, that the transition is not accompanied by any of those disagreeable emotions which most persons are apt to connect with that mode of travelling. As the balloon leaves the ground, two-fold astonishment seizes the mind, first—as to the vastness and splendour of the view, secondly—that the effect produced in looking down is not what would be supposed, judging from lofty surveys on the tops of high buildings, in fact, fear is lost in admiration, and there is a joyous consciousness of safety, which favours calm observation.
“The earth presented to our view an immense concave surface, that part immediately beneath being the deepest, this variegated picture may be compared to a map. A certain degree of confusion, however, attends one’s early efforts to recognise particular localities, and here it was that the aëronaut surprised me by the facility with which he pointed out the leading features of Glasgow, although they were new to him.
“First he directed attention to the Clyde, pointing out the different ship-building yards, and mentioning the names of the proprietors. Anon he took me round the squares, along the streets, up to the railway station, and off to the distant country. I was bold enough to inquire how it was Mr. C—— was enabled to trace Glasgow and its surroundings with such accuracy, having made only one ascent previously. ‘I will tell you,’ he replied, ‘I always make it my business before ascending, to acquire every possible information as to a strange locality, much is to be obtained from local maps, &c., but more from personal observations as to public buildings, thoroughfares, roads, and other conspicuous objects, which once seen, familiarise themselves again in the bird’s-eye view, and thereby lead to detection.’
“So model-like and regular was the face of the city, that it was difficult to reconcile the belief that there, beneath, lay the thrifty, solid-built, populous port of Glasgow.
“A view from on high is certainly a great leveller of human distinction—the contrast of a splendid residence with a humble dwelling is not very great when viewed from the range of the clouds, nor do lofty spires, hallowed walls, or public monuments, command, however much they deserve, that respect which they are accustomed to receive below. Everything is reduced to the smallest possible dimensions, preserving, notwithstanding, distinctness of form and outline.”