HENRY COXWELL.
(From a Photograph by Messrs. Negretti & Zambra.)

MY LIFE
AND
BALLOON EXPERIENCES,
WITH
A SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER
ON
MILITARY BALLOONING.

BY
HENRY COXWELL.

London:
W. H. ALLEN & CO. 13 WATERLOO PLACE, S. W.
1887.

CONTENTS.

MY LIFE
AND
BALLOON EXPERIENCES.

NOT far from Rochester Castle, at Wouldham, on the banks of the Medway, I first saw the light of day, at the parsonage house, on March 2nd, 1819.

Should this allusion to my birthplace lead to the inference that I am the son of a clergyman it will not be correct, although I am a grandson of the Rev. Charles Coxwell, of Ablington House, Gloucestershire; but my father was a naval officer who had seen a tolerable share of active service, and who now sought repose in a secluded spot which presented a striking contrast to the deck of a man-of-war, and to those bustling scenes of warfare which he had so far participated in as to sustain personal injury, and to require retirement for the sake of his health.

Before I was old enough to remember any of the first associations of childhood in this rural abode at Wouldham, our family changed residence, so that my earliest recollections date from the time shortly after we had left the parsonage and had taken up our abode on board His Majesty’s ship “Colossus,” my father having accepted command of the vessels in ordinary at Chatham. Here we stayed for three years, and, young as I was, I do not forget being ducked every morning from the stage of the old seventy-four, nor the swinging round at tide-time of the black old hulk, and of frequently being pulled ashore in a dinghy to the marine stairs, where a landing was effected on a plank.

In taking a retrospective view of boyhood, the next circumstance which impressed me was my being taken to a school at the marine barracks, where one Sergeant W—— superintended an elementary school for the sons of officers. Our usher, a corporal, was said to have had a Cambridge education, but I suppose he went wrong in some weak point before he enlisted; an under teacher was the master’s son, Jack W—— as he was familiarly styled, a precocious lad who betrayed a decided proclivity for the young gentlemen’s tarts, so that at last Jack was regarded as a person who could instruct in meum and tuum, but certainly did not set an example to the pupils in distinguishing between them.

After I had been some time at this school, an event occurred which excited the curiosity of all the boys, and which cannot well be forgotten by those who broke through the rule of not leaving without permission. One morning, Sergeant W—— and the second in command appeared at their respective desks in full uniform rather earlier than usual, and appointed W—— junior to be a monitor, as some important duty, either on parade or in another remote part of the barracks, was coming off. “Mind nobody leaves his seat until we return,” was the last injunction as the sergeant marched out followed by the corporal, whose general appearance was more intellectual than martial; his red-tailed coat and black trowsers were conspicuously a misfit, and as he wore a thin pair of spectacles, no doubt rendered indispensable by university studies, the usher did somehow or other disturb the gravity assumed by the obedient scholars. Jack in office, however, otherwise W—— junior, was fully equal to a demonstrative attitude, and by a vigorous smack of the cane on an old desk, that had never yet felt paint, struck terror among us, so that for a few minutes order reigned supreme. Some wicked wag, however, soon observed that, for his part, all he was afraid of was that Jack would not remain in office up to the dinner-hour, by which certain vile insinuations as to the appropriation of cakes, &c., were conveyed to the nearest boys; this caused an insubordinate titter, which again brought down the sturdy cane, this time with such a threatening thump that its actual use on the hands was held to be highly probable, especially as the talkative lad in the first class again ventured a piece of undertoned information, albeit of a graver kind.

“Don’t you know,” he said, “it is punishment morning, and the masters have left to witness the flogging.”

Now before the lash was mitigated, or abolished, at any rate when I was a youth, military floggings were of such frequent occurrence that punishment morning was generally once-a-week; the elder pupils knew all this, but some of the new boys listened with eager attention, if not with fear, to the announcement.

“Hush,” cried one, who heard a tramp on the parade ground, a fact which indicated that the Royal Marines were at that moment marching down to the rear, where the halberts were invariably pitched, and where five or six privates were not unfrequently strapped up in succession, each to undergo from fifty to two hundred lashes, according to the articles of war, as at that time interpreted. No sooner was it buzzed about what was to take place than one of my own class—I will not name the incorrigible—enquired if there was any chance of having a peep.

“No, it is not allowed,” said the big boy, “and anyone found looking out of the barrack windows, commits a serious offence; but if,” he continued, with a patronizing air, “you can get behind the green baize near the door, you and I will slip out and see what is going on.” An opportunity having presented itself, we deserted forthwith. I was then led to a hole in a window-frame which had been plugged up, and evidently used on former occasions.

The Chatham Division of Marines was now to be seen drawn up in square. The red-painted triangle was ready for the first delinquent, and we readily recognized the portly frame of the sergeant-major whose voice disturbed the stillness of the ranks, by saying, “Number one, strip!” I was struck with the apparent alacrity with which the man took off his undress jacket, pulled off his shirt, and drew his belt tightly round his waist; it was the work of a moment; there was no flinching, and he walked over to the halberts, where his hands and feet were strapped, in a firm way, which was very sensational and attractive to us ensconced youngsters. A drummer was immediately at hand in a white jacket, and the cat hung in his right hand until the sergeant-major cried, “one” when suddenly the drummer threw himself into position, and the cat flourished high over his head and fell evenly between the white shoulders, producing a foul red mark on the fair form which shrugged perceptibly, but less so as the work proceeded, so that by the time the first complement of twenty-five lashes had disfigured the poor man’s flesh, he appeared to be cat-hardened, for no cry or groan escaped his lips, he took his hundred-and-fifty, and when cast loose, his shirt and a great coat being thrown over his back, he marched off under escort to the infirmary, for another kind of dressing, with an amount of unflinching courage worthy of a better cause.

Number two was a different kind of man altogether; he was stouter, and his skin looked redder, there was no manifest fear in him; indeed, he assumed a defiant swagger, and looked round as if for approbation during the process of securing, nor did the first few strokes make him writhe like his predecessor, but no sooner had number twelve sounded, than a piercing groan was uttered, when the fifes and drums were called into requisition to drown his shrieks; and then, it may as well be confessed, we withdrew to the schoolroom, after witnessing that which did upset us, and was calculated to sicken persons in more advanced life.

The next incident mentally photographed on my mind is one which took place at the village of Gillingham, situated about three miles from Chatham. Our house had a commanding view of the river Medway right away to Sheerness. After leaving the “Colossus,” we had taken up our quarters in the neighbourhood where a great number of officers resided. The guard-ship “Prince Regent” lay at her moorings three-quarters of a mile distant, and my eldest brother, a mate, was on board awaiting a lieutenancy. He frequently came on shore and visited us at home; but he had gone away to some foreign station before the winter of 1827 set in, or he would have accompanied my sisters to the Rochester ball, probably, in the place of my father who generally required a little persuasion on the part of the girls before mixing with the red and blue coats when they were going in for dancing. The forthcoming Rochester assembly was duly prepared for, of course it was a carriage drive, and in those days the return journey was not always considered safe, although highway robbers were getting less frequent; still it was well to be provided with firearms.

A day or two before the said ball, I was myself an eyewitness of sundry preparations in the domestic circle; first, there was the coming and going of dressmakers, and such sort, and on my respected parent’s side, there was an inspection of small arms, and well I remember it; the taking down of a naval trophy, very like a horse-pistol, which was cleaned, and afterwards charged with powder and ball, but the ammunition was not needed, for the assembly took place, and the girls were safely housed without any adventure.

On their return the pistol had been placed on the top of an old escritoire, and on the following Sunday, during divine service in the parish church—and I may add in our house as well, my mother being an invalid, and a younger sister being therefore called upon to read prayers—just at this serious moment I was wandering about the house, no doubt in search of mischief, when I espied the pistol, and enquired of Mary the housemaid who was busy bed-making, what that was on the drawers. Mary had enough to do in minding her own business, so that I was requested rather pettishly not to bother her. I insisted, despite this protest in the bed-room, and examined the pistol, asking the domestic to allow me to snap the flint and steel in the direction of her foot. I could not keep in check a desire to embark in this little experimental trigger pulling; of course I had not the slightest idea that my pistol could by oversight or neglect have remained charged, nor was I sufficiently practised in gunnery to see the propriety of examining the pan, or thrusting down the ramrod to ascertain if all was clear. My idea was to strike sparks from the flint, and I did so, but “gracious goodness,” as Mary exclaimed when she flew back as if killed—and no sooner had she shrieked than my own mother and sister followed suit—not only had I discharged the contents close to the girl’s foot, but the bullet had gone right through the floor, down into the room close to my parent’s sofa where she was reclining. What consternation ensued I cannot describe; had I shot anybody or wounded myself? Master Henry was most frightened, I am sure, as the pistol fell from my hand, and I stood pale and amazed, until reassured that no one was hurt, and that I was not supposed to have had any deliberate intention of shooting Mary or my dear mother. It was a close shave for all there, and I required protection on the maternal side after my father returned from church.

“The young rascal,” he said, “had no business prowling about on a Sunday morning; it was only a few days previously,” he continued in a great rage, “that gunpowder had exploded in his pocket.” This was a fact. I had collected some half cartridges which the soldiers had dropped at a review, and was about trying my hand at springing a mine, when my father came in sight, and to avoid detection I thrust a lighted slow match in my pocket, when some loose powder ignited; being now called upon for an explanation as to handling the pistol, I pleaded ignorance as to its being loaded, &c., &c., and as the fault lay really on my father’s side, I was pardoned, and I believe kissed by Mary for not having deprived her of existence.

Scarcely six months had elapsed after this first experience of shooting, ere the village talk turned upon a promised balloon ascent from the Rochester Gasworks, by Mr. C. Green; several of my schoolfellows and neighbours were going over to witness the first event of the kind in that part of Kent. My father had determined not to go to Rochester, but to be satisfied with a distant view from Chatham Lines, where I myself, and my brother and sisters, were to assemble on the occasion. I had strict orders to carry with all possible care an old spy glass, of about sixteen inches round by two feet and a half in length. Such a telescope under a boy’s arm now would inevitably excite ridicule as to its much vaunted day and night powers. I cannot speak very positively at the present time, though I still possess the said instrument, and occasionally hand it about as a curiosity, on account of its having been my father’s and the one that was taken to the hill overlooking the gas-works to enable me to obtain a good view of Mr. Green’s balloon, in the year 1828.

It was my lot on that day, as youngest son, to stand erect with back towards my father, with the spy glass on my right shoulder to admit of his getting the first view of the balloon. “There it is sure enough,” was the intimation which only served to make me unsteady and anxious to see what manner of thing a balloon could be. “Steady young gentleman,” said the captain, “your sisters and friends wish for a good view. Now then, take your line straight over Master Henry’s shoulder, as if you were aiming point blank at that black gas holder, you will see the balloon half full.” After our party had taken their turns and had commented on what they saw, I was myself raised to the highest pitch of expectancy, and could not for the life of me get a proper focus or catch sight of the object for some time. At length I sighted the variegated dome, and indulged in a long and selfish gaze; so much so, that other boys with natural longing gave signs of impatience by elbow digs, and at length shook the glass and compelled me to look no longer.

After the inflation was completed, we could perceive the balloon being let up by ropes, and my father volunteered the opinion that persons were in the car, though I question whether the captain knew much of such affairs, or whether he had ever been nearer a balloon than he was that day.

When the partial ascents were over, a number of old naval officers, who appeared to be tired of waiting, gave it out as their belief that the real ascent would not be long delayed. I remember the steady gaze of my father, as he held up the old glass with a fixed look. He was silent for some time; at length he exclaimed “look out boys,” a request we attended to and were not kept waiting as in another ten seconds “she’s off, she’s off,” resounded on all sides, and in less than a minute the balloon had risen high into the atmosphere, and was gliding away over Chatham Dockyard. Before the balloon reached the open sea an upper current perceptibly wafted it inland; it seemed to go on bravely in spite of danger, and many were the speculations as to where it would fall. After being up for more than half-an-hour it was pronounced to be over the Thames, and it could be seen through the clear air until it was reduced to a mere speck. We heard next day that it alighted safely in Essex.

It would, no doubt, be instructive to ascertain how far an imposing spectacle influences the various members of a juvenile community. A balloon ascent seen by children, generally, cannot produce a desire for soaring, or aëronauts would be as plentiful as blackberries. In my case, young as I was, Mr. Green’s ascent, created an interest which never left me. It was not long before I invested my weekly allowance of pocket money in sundry sheets of tissue paper, beginning on the housetops with tiny parachutes, and progressing towards a rudely constructed paper Montgolfier, which would not rise, and which did burn, so that my first efforts, like those of most boys in aërostatics, were unsuccessful; but, being taken with the amusement, I stuck to it, not persistently, but with frequent flashes of enthusiasm, which are evidence of a strong taste in that direction.

But there were other exciting pastimes in our seaport town which soon proved as attractive as those miniature balloon experiments. I must advert to a few of them, after stating that it had been deemed a fit and proper time to remove me from my first school and to place me in one of a higher class, kept by the Brothers B——, in Gibraltar Place, Chatham. The boarders and day-scholars of this establishment were of a mixed character, that is to say we had the military element, the naval boys, and a fair contingent of commercial lads—some from London, others from Canterbury, Dover, Hythe, and various parts of the country. Our masters had first-rate pretentions to classical and mathematical proficiency, and although excellent specimens of good teaching were to be found among our ranks, yet there was one propensity which was very strong among us, and that was pugnaciousness. I regret, even at the present time, to avow that we were known under the sobriquet of “B——’s bulldogs.” Not only individually but collectively did we earn and deserve this title; whether it was because there were two or three other schools in our immediate vicinity whose playgrounds bordered upon our own, and which led to competitive trials of strength, or whether it was owing to a martial spirit bred in the very bones of the officers’ boys, I really cannot now take upon myself to decide, but that we were continually in hot water there remains no manner of doubt; and when I think of the efforts, the gigantic efforts—if large canes, veritable cats, and formidable birches are to be accounted as such—that were made to cure us, I am surprised that more of the fire was not taken out of us.

Perhaps in that day and generation we were not properly handled and tamed; something was wrong, that is certain, or we should never have been known as “B——’s bulldogs.” It is just possible that some of the more grave and studious of my schoolfellows would object to this undignified portraiture I am giving of a few of our weak points, I beg to qualify my description by adding that it does not follow that one and all were by nature and habits addicted to fighting, but a large proportion were that way inclined, and I may truthfully add, that a certain number were known to belong to a band of volunteers—not such as emulate the regulars in the present day, but to a regiment of young aspirants shouldering wooden guns and going forth to battle, the exciting causes being some imaginary affront or some kind of puerile knight-errantry, which would now be suppressed as unbecoming and scandalous. No doubt certain allowances should be made for the degenerate days of a youth before the Reform Bill had passed; and as one or two of my companions are now staid, distinguished men, long passed the meridian of life, they will not blush at my disclosures, for the history of my boyhood is not designed to include by name any associate. All I aim at is to describe the early scenes of my life, which cannot well be omitted from this narrative, as they really occurred.

As a specimen of the way in which we sometimes spent our half-holidays, that is at the tender age of ten, I will give the following anecdote, though I had better have passed it over perhaps. On one occasion I had orders to join the small army to which I belonged, as there was some chance of active service being engaged in on those wide-spread Chatham Lines, where the members of our little force might, it was thought possible, on a certain Wednesday afternoon, be provoked into mimic warfare. We had recently, when exercising, suffered insult from the wild half-ragged boys of Brompton, who were mostly soldiers’ sons, and had a grudge against us on account of our superior personal appearance, no less than for affecting to be armed and equipped as if we were men, and equal to doing battle as such if need be. Well, the said boys guessing that we should be out for drill not far from the trenches had there assembled.

We fell in regardless of these tormentors, and Colonel H——, that is our superior officer, who was the son of a live infantry Hibernian colonel, had given orders to “ground arms,” when with some truth, but much sarcasm, one of the urchins cried out “ground broomsticks”—of course in open defiance to us and our leader, who had Irish blood in his veins.

It was only a few seconds ere our next instructions were to “shoulder arms, and prepare for action.” So far from “broomsticks,” ours were wooden guns, in fair imitation of muskets, and the officers had swords, purchased from a pawnbroker, unless, as in my case, they had been provided from home in the shape of naval or military weapons, which had been worn by their fathers in the days of Nelson or Wellington. Without much ado or parley, we were preparing for close quarters, when to our surprise, the enemy opened fire with stones, having provided themselves with these formidable missiles with which they assailed us at a disadvantage.

Colonel H——, though hit at the outset in the hand, motioned us to deploy and fall back temporarily towards the sally-port, with a view of exhausting their resources, before a retaliatory step was taken on our side.

This strategic movement was well timed, as the ragged ruffians redoubled their onslaught, but as anticipated, were soon short of ammunition.

Perceiving at a glance that they were pressing for the bridge, in order to replenish their pockets with stones, the word “Charge” was given, and away we darted at the double, H——, himself, drawing his sword and cutting at the thin air a slashing swish, just to let them see it was the genuine cold steel he was leading us with, but—bless the boys!—away they went, helter-skelter, before our colonel had authorised us to use the butt-ends of our guns if necessary.

They beat us, though, in activity, and kept up their chaff while running away. H——, I remember overtook the ringleader, who had a head like a mop, while his garments, such as they were, happened to be made of patches of old uniforms, partially tattered and torn.

This fellow, with a jeer enough to provoke a saint, exclaimed “Shure we’ll meet yer on Saturday afternoon, at Tom-all-alones, ye know the locality, I believe.”

“Agreed,” replied our leader, who brought us to the halt with no great reluctance, being himself a stout lad of about fifteen years of age.

“We are masters of the field at any rate,” he said.

Not one of our party failed to cheer at the unexpected retreat of our opponents; we were ill-matched so far as numbers, and stone-throwing powers were concerned, but as H—— explained, we should have a better chance on next meeting, as the soil was of clay at Tom-all-alones, which is situated below the Brompton barracks, where there were at that time model earth-works, and the sites of recently sprung mines to take possession of.

We agreed also upon the advisability of securing the services of the naval brigade, which had among those enrolled, some schoolfellows, including my brother, who was just fifteen months my senior, and thoroughly in advance of me, and indeed of his years, as regards acts of downright daring.

On the following half-holiday, the combined forces, composed of day-scholars, proceeded in two divisions to the proposed scene of action. As it happened, we were the first on the ground, and no time was lost in taking possession of an earth-work, or rather clay-work, not long thrown up by Colonel Paisley and his Engineer detachment. Guessing what would be the tactics of the rebels, no time was lost in preparing a pile of balls, as in all probability we should be attacked with such, at the commencement of the expected onslaught.

Having added to our numbers since the last brush, we awaited with confidence an attack, nor were we long in doubt as to the arrival of the enemy, as their outposts were descried in the distance, and soon a scattered and disorderly force appeared on the rising ground to our left; on they rushed, without any apparent organisation, but this time they had sticks in their hands, and some were seen to have something in their pocket handkerchiefs which were slung on one arm.

The Brompton lads had evidently heard that we were at the place appointed, but they halted on perceiving how favourably we had established ourselves, and that we had manufactured a conical heap of clay balls. It was not long before they followed suit, their bull-headed leader, who gave the challenge, being conspicuous by his clothes and size. While thus preparing for an attack they withdrew to a heap of moist clay, where they could be seen pressing the earth into round shot. Some one of ours proposed to sally out and disperse them, but H—— thought we had better hold our own, as possession of an earth-work was nine points in our favour.

They were quicker and greater adepts at their work than we had been, and the chances were that they would lick us at out fighting, so that H—— sent, or sanctioned, a sortie by way of diversion, when a party of our naval fellows made a dash at them when least expected, but in numbers our men, like the six hundred riding at the Russian batteries, were quite unequal to the contest, and suffered terribly; my brother and several others came in bleeding, but our foes were disturbed and brought to close quarters, where they resolutely let fly as if they expected to dislodge us in no time, but we were several feet above them, and they would have to scale our ramparts before driving us out. In less than five minutes the exchange became uncommonly smart and hot. I was also disfigured, as the clay begrimed not only our jackets but our faces and hands.

No great length of time elapsed before it became as plain as a pike-staff that we were getting the worst of it, and no wonder. H—— discovered the reason, “those ruffians,” he cried, “popped in stones beneath their clay, we must at them at once; are you ready?”

“Then hurrah, and away, show no quarter.”

Down we rushed, the foul play that had been detected animating us with the pluck and dash of adult warriors.

“Let ’em have it,” cried H——, unmindful of a wound in the head which caused the blood to flow copiously. I, too, was hit, as indeed were one and all of us, but “onwards boys,” was the word, and just as we were on the point of crossing sticks and guns, they fell back suddenly, but not before a personal exchange of compliments came off between our colonel and the burly leader on the enemy’s side. In fact H—— closed with him, and laid hands on his throat which brought him to the ground.

This incident gave a turn to the fortune of war, and at the real tug which decides so many battles we were again the victors, most unmistakeably so this time, as it became a total rout, and the ringleader was not released until he rendered up his stick and pledged himself never again to oppose or make light of us while exercising.

It was not very long after this scrimmage that a painful circumstance occurred, and as it concerned three of us who had fought in company, and who were shortly after fated to have a difference among ourselves, I may as well mention it at once. I do so with twinges of regret even at this distant period of time, as I was led, almost unwittingly, into a fresh squabble which disfigured, I am aware, my early doings.

It was in this wise. My brother who was in the last affair (not an elder brother who was in the Royal Navy), had some high words with my colonel, H——, who had led us twice into action as recounted. H——, by design or inadvertence, had cast a slur on our father—not that I heard it or was aware of it until John, my brother, came in one day and said, “Henry, we are going to fight H——.”

“Indeed,” I cried with doubt and pain; “what for, he is my colonel, I have had no quarrel with him?”

“Well, it is all settled; he has insulted papa. Here’s Johnson, he will tell you all about it, and when it is to come off. Owing to H——’s size and age he is going to take the pair of us.”

“You see Master Henry,” said Johnson, who was a marine bandsman, and who assisted, when off duty, in our house, “the captain, your father, has been grossly insulted.”

“Only you make that clear, Johnson, and I am ready,” was my reply.

“Well, you had better step up into my room, young gentlemen, at once, as time is on the wing, and will brook no delay.”

The bandsman having disclosed the nature of the aspersion, and the hour having been fixed for the encounter, I found myself with no way of escape consistent with honour and respect for a parent; so that I may as well make a clean breast of another blot on my life’s history by avowing that, the same evening, in a back yard, on suitable premises, rented by one McMollon, a linesman, Johnson had arranged for the meeting to take place; and for the better understanding of the why and wherefore, as also of the respective characters of Johnson and McMollon, I must unavoidably state that these worthies were, to some extent, rivals, as Johnson was in our employ and McMollon was not, though he wished to be. The former, moreover, was a Royal Marine of the Chatham Division, while the latter was of another cloth altogether: and then again the bandsman was a Man of Kent, while the soldier hailed from the other side of St. George’s Channel, so that their brogue and tastes were quite opposed.

McMollon considered that H—— had not insulted Johnson’s “bhoys,” as he accentuated his allusion to us, and the Englishman swore in strong Saxon that H—— had, and that the affair should be fought out.

Preliminaries having been settled, an adjournment took place to Johnson’s private quarters, which were located near our back garden, as was McMollon’s house and yard, though they were fully a stone’s throw apart from the bandsman’s rooms and from our place.

On entering Johnson’s room, he threw off his coat, and then drew with a piece of chalk a line across the floor, and brought us up to the scratch, as he roughly named the place of demarkation. He then threw himself into a pugilistic attitude and thus addressed us:—

“You are going to face, young gentlemen, a strapping young fellow, whose hit may prove like the kick of a horse. From what I know of you both, I have no fear whatever of the issue, if you follow my advice; but if he lands his left on Master Henry’s nose and his right between Master John’s eyes, by taking you apart and dropping on to you unawares, then I’ll not answer for the consequences. Now look here! I’m your opponent; please to foot the chalk line, and square up like men. Capital—anyhow as a sample. Now, please not to forget that in round one Master Henry must hit for the wind, and you, Master John, must play for the face—left and right like a sledge-hammer. No. 2 then recovers himself, and next pops in another compliment on the nob, as we call it in the classics; and if you land your blows, as I expect you will, Col. H—— will be taken all aback, and round one will soon be over.”

“But hold; look here Johnson,” I said, “supposing that when I aim at the wind I catch one in the eye, how then?”

“Oh! that’s what we’re coming to. If you, after a spurt in sparring, throw your guard well over your face, and butt in smartly at the same time, you score a shot between wind and water, and then the figure-head is open for master John. Come now, just go through it.”

But without further shocking or harassing the refined minds of my readers, suffice it to say that we were put through these tactics ultimately to the satisfaction of our accomplished instructor, and by the time we faced H—— in McMollon’s yard, we came up with an air of confidence which seemed to gladden the bandman’s heart.

H——, on being supported by McMollon, merely buttoned his blue jacket, but we, in obedience to Johnson’s request, took off ours and then tucked up our sleeves. We cut a poor figure, however, in a physical aspect, as opposed to our big antagonist, who smiled as if he could knock us to pieces, if he were so disposed.

“Faith, be jintle with them, Misther H——” said McMollon, when Johnson—unmindful of swagger—put us forward with calm assurance, and we lost no time in obeying his orders; perceiving that we stood well as to position, he cried out “Now lads,” when in I went, to the astonishment of H—— and his second, while my brother hit out well from the shoulder, as told to do at rehearsal.

“Follow up, Master Henry,” cried Johnson, “ding dong, go it, the pair of you.”

But, at this interesting moment, a manly figure came forward and, pushing our backer aside, he dealt us both two sharp cuts on the back with his walking-stick. It was my father!

“Disgraceful!” he exclaimed.

“How is this, Johnson, a pugilistic encounter?”

“The truth is, it is all about yourself, Captain.”

“Eh, what do you say, about me?”

“Well, the fact is, Master H——, yonder, insulted your good name, and the young gentlemen took it up.”

“Oh! that’s it; well, I shall return in ten minutes, and if all this is not over I shall be very angry.”

Pater then, to the bandsman’s delight, went away; an act which was interpreted to mean, “go in and win,” which we did in a very short period of time, to the dismay of McMollon, who now rounded on Johnson, but the royal marine, of the Chatham division, was nothing daunted, though a much smaller man; his coat was off, and he was well to the front in no time.

“Shure the captain’s coming; don’t get yourself into trouble, now,” cried McMollon, and with this excuse he declined to be mixed up in the fray; and it is due to H—— to admit that, after the contest, he explained that his insinuations were entirely misunderstood, and that the Coxwells were far too touchy. This remark had in it some semblance of truth, perhaps, but the explanation being accepted, we shook hands, and were as good, if not better friends than ever.

As a description of my boyish pranks will lead to an inference that the game of soldiers was to me a labour of love, still it must not be supposed that I was indifferent to nautical pursuits and ship-building.

There was a fine field at Chatham for youths who aspired to serve their country, and who had a liking for naval architecture. Much of my spare time was spent in the machinery and dockyard departments. The parents of some of my schoolfellows resided in the great naval depot, and there were about half-a-dozen of us who inherited a strong bent for everything appertaining to the wooden walls of Old England.

We had heard our fathers’ stories of sea fights, and cutting out expeditions, of the days of two broad-sides and board, of chasing foreign frigates, and of attacking the combined fleets of France and Spain, until a lively interest in such undertakings was pretty generally felt among us. Ready access being afforded to see the dry and wet docks, slips, and gun wharf, we were fairly posted up in all that was going forward to maintain, at that time, our supremacy on the seas.

Although the dimensions of Chatham Dockyard have vastly extended since the year 1831, still they were of no small magnitude then. There was generally a first-rate on Number One slip, and a couple of ninety gun ships close at hand, while lower down the yard an eighty-four and several frigates, corvettes, and brigs of war were to be seen in different stages of advancement. The dry docks too—especially a new stone one—were invariably occupied, and in the river there was constantly a vessel in commission, so that we frequently put off to visit the officers, and to watch the progress of fitting out.

We had been observing for some time the completion of His Majesty’s ship “Monarch,” and were eagerly looking out for her launch, not because it would be a novelty to us—for we seldom omitted such ceremonies—but we had agreed to be on board as she went off the stocks. From some cause, better known to the Admiralty than to us, the launch had been put off from time to time, until we grew impatient. At last we noticed that the cradles were up, and that a coat of yellow paint had been laid on, and finally we ascertained that when the next spring tide served, this splendid eighty-four was destined to take the water.

The day having been fixed, we either obtained or took a whole holiday—a half-holiday was no kind of use to us. We did not care to arrive with the fashionable visitors who gathered about half-an-hour before the christening. What we wanted was to be present during the preliminary operations of removing the supports, and splitting out the blocks from beneath the keel, and, in fact, of witnessing the mechanical process of transferring the entire weight of a stupendous ship on to the “ways” down which the “Monarch” was to slide.

From an early hour in the morning every available shipwright was at his post accomplishing this task. It would never do to remove the spars that propped up each section of the enormous hull until the day of the launch; the strain would be too great on the timbers were this done until the cradles are driven tight by wedging, which was just what we took delight in. All hands were summoned for this office, when the blows from a thousand hammers struck home and blended in one harmonious sound.

The master shipwright and Bardoe the pilot were to be seen in company during these preparations. An important personage was Bardoe; he was a bluff, stalwart seaman, with a voice to be heard the other side of the Medway, a Newcastle man by birth, and one to be obeyed, but gentle, communicative, and a decided favourite with us boys.

“Now young gentlemen,” said the pilot, “you are here betimes, pray keep out of mischief and mind your heads, they are just going to knock away some of those props; and let’s see, you want to go with us, don’t you? I hardly know what to say about it to-day; I shall have a large gang of convicts aboard to assist in ‘bringing her up,’ and my orders are to be strict about visitors.” “All right Mr. Bardoe, you’ll find room for us I daresay.”

The tide was now flowing freely, and the yard began to be astir with strangers. Many persons, quite ignorant of the details of shiplaunching, were seeking information, and with no little pride we undertook to enlighten a few, explaining the principle of launching, and then conducting the inquirers to the dog-shores, comparatively small pieces of timber, but forming the last connecting link, which, being knocked away by falling pieces of iron, admit of the vessel gliding into the stream.

Around the bows, and on either side of the “Monarch,” spacious stages were erected for the accommodation of the public. Hosts of civilians in gay dresses were arriving, and what with military uniforms, and a strong muster of blue-coats, appearances were becoming uncommonly lively.

Nor was the scene less stirring afloat, as aquatic parties were rowing hither and thither, and a long line of boats began to take up their positions in close proximity, not without peril, as the swell becomes great when a quantity of water equal to the displacement of a man-of-war is set in motion, and the boats’ crews have to look out in case of being upset.

As it was drawing near to one o’clock the Marine band marched down, and began playing inspiriting tunes. We then mounted the last ladder by the ship’s side, and caught Bardoe’s eye; he was rather stiff with the responsibilities of office, and had just given orders to clear away the ladder which was moving already, so that no further person could enter the ship. “Look alive young gentlemen,” Bardoe sung out, “tumble in through a port-hole”; a privilege which we were not long in availing ourselves of.

A stir with Bardoe’s gang of convicts next drew our attention. The pilot had ranged his men to let go the anchors at a given order, and for this they had to hold themselves in readiness. Presently a tremendous thumping was heard under the “Monarch’s” bows, and then a cheer arose. “Look out,” cried the pilot, “she is being christened”; then all was silent, and a voice was heard, “Are you all ready Bardoe”?

“All ready, Sir,” was the prompt response.

Another sound was then heard: “Down goes the dog-shores!” exclaimed Bardoe; then followed a slight tremble from stem to stern. “There she goes,” resounded on all sides, as we began moving down the slip with a pace which was at first easy, but which soon became accelerated to a rapid, resistless, majestic descent, increasing as we took the water, so that it seemed as if nothing could check our way until we reached the opposite bank of the river. Bardoe had his eye on the stream, and at the proper moment sung out lustily, “Stand by, my lads, let go,” when down fell a huge anchor, and then a second one, which lessened our speed. “Pay away handsomely,” exclaimed the pilot. “Port your helm hard.” “Port it is, Sir,” by which movement the “Monarch” was brought round skillfully, and prevented from touching the river mud.

There were two sentries on board having muskets loaded with ball cartridge, as at times, an escaped convict would swim the Medway and land unscathed on the Upnor Castle side of the river. Nothing of this kind was attempted, however, on board the new line-of-battle ship which had now entered her proper element, so that we landed in a boat without having witnessed anything more sensational than the launch. A passing reference to this scene may be considered by the reader as inapplicable to the life of a balloonist; but I cannot well omit subjects of the kind, if I faithfully chronicle the incidents of my early life, which I am determined to portray to the letter, even if the general character of my boyhood suffers thereby.

“Why not point out how you progressed with your studies, where you and your friends worshipped, how many prizes you had for good conduct, and such like?” asks a well-wisher to whom I read some of these pages in MS.

“The fact is,” I replied, “a very little of that sort of thing will go a long way,” and we may come to it by and bye, but as I was a lad of action, and have in after life stuck to my colours, though it was thought I was cut out either for a parson or a soldier officer; I must be true to my bent, and as to pretending that I was studious, or intellectually inclined—well I will not affect anything of that sort, having ever alluded to myself as a practical man; at the same time I do hope, that by being straight-forward as to my plan and intentions, I may not prove altogether dull in this truthful narrative.

“Still harping upon those horrid uninteresting experiences of your early life and doings?” yes, and I must hark back upon a few other wild acts and thereby risk further censure with an obtuseness deserving of reprehension.

In this fresh adventure, I was all alone in my glory, having embarked single-handed in a little practice with firearms.

My first essay with a horse-pistol, already described, when I nearly shot a servant and my own relations, did not produce that dread that might have been expected. Certainly I was now older, and had fought with a wooden gun, had watched soldiers load, present, and fire, but the fright attending my first efforts ought, by good right, to have made me nervous on this score for many a year to come.

In one of my father’s rooms which was not marked strictly private, there were some guns, swords, pistols, and a frightful old Spanish blunderbuss with a bell-mouthed barrel and a bayonet affixed, which was kept down by a catch. Whether it was that I had a coarse, depraved taste in occasionally looking over this armoury, I cannot say, but the blunderbuss took my fancy vastly. One day I became bold enough to borrow it for a trial, and I surreptitiously provided myself with ammunition, going among the ramparts in quest of something to let fly at. As may be guessed, I made a poor hand with birds, owing to the bell-mouthed weapon scattering so much. Annoyed at this, a packet of ball cartridge was undone and I resolved to engage in target practice. Following a road which led to the Spur battery, a disused sentry-box presented itself, and as nobody appeared to be about, I made a circle on one side, took aim, and fired!

Just as I was examining the effect, a file of the guard came in sight, and I was sorely perplexed as to how to avoid detection, especially as I noticed that daylight was let into the sentry-box on both sides; the ball having penetrated through and through.

There were deep trenches on one side of the road and high palings on the other, so that escape was impossible. Only one remedy was applicable, and that was to keep moving with a view of diverting attention from the damaged property; but the corporal was not to be hoodwinked, he instantly detected what I had been at, and challenged me to stand until I was overtaken.

In less than a minute I was a prisoner, and was marched off to the guard-house. Here I was examined by a sergeant and sent with an escort to the upper barracks.

On my way there I became the object of derision. When I was taken into the presence of some officers on duty, I felt my position the more keenly as Major O—— was my father’s friend and frequently visited our house.

It was impossible to suppress a smile at my grotesque appearance, carrying as I did the old blunderbuss, and I almost hoped that Major O—— did not recognise me, as he turned his back and looked out of the window.

The offence I had been guilty of having been notified, Major O——, still gazing on to the parade, enquired if any sentry was on duty at the time I fired. The information tendered being in my favour, Major O——, without deigning to inspect me, ordered the sergeant to proceed to my parents, and to request that I should not be permitted to handle so dangerous a weapon for the future.

Slight as the sentence might have appeared, yet to me it was a heavy one, as I was in no way prepared to face my father under the circumstances.

On my way home I explained to the sergeant that we knew Major O——, and I asked if he would mind going in the back way. To this proposition he assented, and fortunately so, as the first person encountered was our cook, who was a Scotchwoman and who espoused my cause, and insisted that the sergeant should take some refreshment in the kitchen before lodging his complaint in the parlour.

Cooky then stated that the captain was not at home, but that she would undertake to deliver any message appertaining to my delinquency, when the sergeant stated his orders from Major O——.

The cook observed that it was sure to be right, and that the major would be at our house that evening to a party.

Sure enough the major came, and I saw him, but the cook had failed to see my father, and the reticent major did not allude to the morning’s interview, but politely left me in doubt as to whether he knew me or not.

Among the various localities in which in some capacity or another I well remember to have figured, was Gillingham Reach; here we were accustomed to bathe, and three of us, viz., my brother, self, and Stanley R——, a schoolfellow, had been disporting ourselves one day for some time, where the stream ran fast, and I got out of my depth.

R—— was a splendid swimmer, and was far out in the tide, but I disappeared and was beyond the reach of my brother, who, like myself, could not swim.

Fortunately for me my friend Rudd was just in time to save my life, a service which I am proud to acknowledge in these pages with his full name.

Somewhat lower down, at a hard where boats could be pulled up, my brother and I wandered one afternoon with a view of going off to one of the ships in ordinary. We waited for a long time hoping to see a waterman, but as no one appeared we took French leave and rowed away in a flat-bottomed boat which had previously been pulled up high and dry.

It happened to blow a strong westerly wind, but, boy-like, we took little heed of this until we got well out into the middle of the Medway. Then we discovered our mistake, as the wind and tide were setting one way; we missed the ship, and were swept down the river in the direction of Long Reach. All the efforts we made to pull were of no avail, but it so happened that our course was towards the guard-ship “Prince Regent.” We managed to row as nearly as possible in this direction with a view of obtaining assistance, but the waves were very rough, and had it not been for a seaman who hailed us out of the port bow we should have been carried away to Sheerness, and perhaps to sea.

This worthy, perceiving that we had no control over the boat, sung out lustily, “Pull in shore, my lads,” a piece of advice which we were just enabled to put in practice; by so doing, we crossed the river, and, although we were taken a long way on the weather side, yet here we were less exposed to the wind and tide. My brother then took off his clothes, and pushed the boat up by the stern. It was a long and tedious undertaking, but we got back safely and deposited the boat as we found it, without complaint or even detection.

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.

During the winter of 1847 Lieutenant Gale found that the expenses of establishing himself in popular favour were heavier than he had anticipated. He was associated with two other gentlemen in the proprietorship of his balloon, but his individual responsibilities caused a split, so that the aëronaut and his partners separated.

When Gale lost or threw up all controlling power over the balloon, the then sole owners having as they said a considerable amount of confidence in my judgment, called upon me, and proposed that as I had ascended so frequently and had encountered so many dangers, that I should make a series of ascents on my own and on their account, and that if I would manage the balloon that was styled Gale’s, but which was really theirs, I should have every facility for doing so, as Gale would have nothing more to do with it.

Such a thought never having entered my head, and being moreover engaged as a dentist, I at once declined, but not without explaining that my relatives had always discountenanced my balloon ascents, and would raise most positively a great outcry if ever my name appeared in a public capacity as a professed aëronaut.

Shortly after this refusal we again met in company with several of the admirers of aërostation, and whether by design or casual conversation I know not, but certain it was that gossip turned upon my former aërial adventures, and upon the advisability of my making it at once a business affair as well as a pastime. All the arguments I raised against the proposal were swept away by overwhelming opinions as to my aptitude and so forth.

“Look,” said one, “you are certainly risking your life without any profit, and the chances are you frequently dip your hand pretty deeply into your pocket minus any return.”

“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.

The visitors having been treated with a series of partial ascents, at six o’clock the balloon rose. In the car were Mr. Chas. Livermore, of Felstead, and Mr. Isaac Livermore, of Dunmow, together with Mr. Church, the engineer of the gas-works.

We were greeted in our course by thousands of applauding voices—

“Followed far by many a wond’ring eye,

They glide majestic ’twixt the earth and sky.”

The “Sylph” took a direction over the Hanning fields, and ultimately descended near Rettendon Common.

On May the 5th, a second illustration was made from the same locality. This time the atmosphere had all the sunshine and softness of balmy spring, the visitors were far more numerous than on the former occasion, and the reserved seats were filled principally with ladies, many of them from the leading families of the neighbourhood.

Captive ascents were found to be impracticable this day, but at length Mr. Ram, of Newland Hall, with two other gentlemen entered the car, and we mounted over the irregular forces who garrisoned the housetops in rapid style, and moved towards the Roothings.

Strange to say, the descent was made near Good Easter, where Mr. Ram lived, and here I kept the balloon all night; the following morning, soon after sunrise, I began taking people up, the length of the cable, and after breakfast Mr. Ram’s daughters had a panoramic view of the Hall and Park; the elder young lady would fain have ascended altogether, but papa had made up his mind to do so once more himself, so that soon after 11 o’clock we started again with the same gas, and after being up nearly an hour, descended at Forth-end, near Felstead.

Before starting from the gas-works, on the 5th instant, I made the following estimate of the weight of the “Sylph” and its appendages:—