MY LIFE AND BALLOON EXPERIENCES. (continued 2)

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.

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—

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:—

Balloon, netting, and car 400lbs.

Mr. Ram 160”

Two other gentlemen 304”

Myself 148”

Grapnel and rope 52”

Coats, instruments, &c. 30”

Ballast 160”

—————

Total 1254lbs.

=========

being the weight which 32,000 feet of carburetted hydrogen gas would sustain at a specific gravity of about 440.

The temperature of the air on the earth was sixty-two degrees; at the greatest altitude, viz., three-quarters of a mile, forty-nine degrees. Temperature of gas on the earth, as obtained by placing a thermometer in the neck, sixty-three degrees; ditto in mid-air, forty-four degrees. Force of expansion, as indicated by the pressure gauge, 5·10, or half an inch; rate of travelling, twenty miles an hour; direction of wind, N.W.

About the middle of the merry month of May Mr. S—— and I formed part of a group of passengers at London Bridge Wharf, on our way to the Antwerp steam-boat.

Everybody but ourselves was looking after the porters and their luggage. We appeared to be gazing at the clouds, but were in reality watching a large wicker basket which was suspended some thirty feet under a crane, and was ready to be swung in on deck directly the mate saw all clear below, and sung out “lower away.”

This basket, owing to its unusual size, attracted general attention, a bystander, who took it for a large bread basket, observed that the passengers would be well off for the “staff of life,” even if they lacked delicacies. But the interest taken in the huge basket rather increased than diminished when the mate, a little angry with the seamen, cried out “bear a hand there, stow away that balloon.”

“Belongs to you Sir?” added the officer, directing a patronizing glance towards me, whereupon a hundred eyes or more followed suit, and my connection with the supposed bread basket was established beyond the shadow of a doubt. Assuming, rather than feeling, the required amount of nerve to endure this introduction to the ship’s crew, I nodded an affirmative, and tried to suppress a rush of blood to the cheek, but it would not do. I looked ashamed of this branch of publicity, and proposed to go below and see after our berths.

The first person I met in the chief cabin was an acquaintance, but glad enough was I to find that he had not noticed our luggage, and what was more, that he was merely seeing a friend off to the continent. No sooner had we deposited our portmanteaus in the sleeping berths than I proposed to go on deck again, whispering to my friend as we went up the companion ladder, “out of the frying-pan into the fire.” “That gentleman,” I added, “knows my family well, and I would rather not be identified with the big basket so uncommonly close to London Bridge.”

“That’s all a matter of taste,” observed Mr. S—— consolingly, “many men would be proud of the position.”

“But you know I am not, and you are aware of my reasons for not caring about being thought a professional aëronaut.”

“All right Mr. Coxwell, take it quietly and pass for an amateur.”

The vessel had not rounded the Isle of Dogs when we found ourselves in earnest conversation with an elderly gentleman, who was much interested in aërostation. It came out, too, that he had ascended himself, and that he was intimate with some of the aëronautic celebrities of the present century.

“Do you know,” said our communicative fellow-traveller, “I never could thoroughly understand the cause of the fatal descent of that poor man Cocking; being abroad at the time I had not the opportunity of keeping pace with our home newspapers.”

In reply I said, “You are aware that the principle of his parachute was diametrically opposite to Garnerin’s, which had descended successfully. Cocking’s was a sort of inverted cone, while that previously employed was more like an umbrella turned upside down with a weight appended to the stick.”

“Exactly,” said our intelligent acquaintance, “and the tendency of a rush of air was not to collapse but rather to keep it distended.”

I fully agreed, and added that “Two objectionable circumstances attended the use of Garnerin’s parachute, namely, the length of time which elapsed before it expanded, and the violent oscillating movement which accompanied the descent. In order to obviate these deficiencies a variety of plans had been proposed at different times, amongst which was that of Cocking’s.” The inverted cone principle, however, was not an idea originating with Cocking, although he had lectured on the subject in 1814 before the Society of Arts.

“Towards the end of the last century this kind of parachute was proposed in Paris, and revived by Sir George Cayley, and again more fully developed by Mr. Kerr in the Encyclopædia Edinensis.”

“Pray,” inquired our friend, “do you happen to know the weight and diameter of Cocking’s parachute?”

“Yes; the computations which appeared in the public press, previous to the inquest, were loose and incorrect. They were to the effect that the entire weight was 393 lbs., whereas, from the evidence taken before the coroner, it appeared that the apparatus weighed 413 lbs., and Mr. Cocking 170 lbs. The terminal velocity, therefore, would have been nearly twenty feet in a second had the parachute not collapsed. Its diameter was thirty-four feet.”

“Of course one of smaller dimensions on the concave plan would descend less rapidly?”

“Oh, certainly a parachute on the Garnerin principle would bring a man down at the rate of twenty feet in a second, even if it were fifteen feet in diameter.”

“According to the most reliable tables of atmospheric resistances, a weight of one pound under a square foot of sustaining surface would cause it to descend at the rate of 1320 feet per second, or fifteen miles an hour.”

“But as this is a far greater rate than is consistent with safety, the diameter should be at least twenty-five feet.”

“Then how is it that scientific men and practical aëronauts did not point out these faults?”

“They did; but poor Cocking was so confident and determined, that no sooner was a large balloon built by the Vauxhall proprietors, Messrs. Gye and Hughes, than he proposed appending a parachute to it, and he threatened in the event of refusal, to construct another balloon and offer opposition to Vauxhall.”

“Indeed, and I have no doubt that pecuniary inducements had their weight. But what did Mr. Green say?”

“Green, to do him justice, never liked the experiment, and he has been heard to say since, that for no amount of money would he repeat his experience on July 24th, 1837.”

“He is said at first to have declined to connect his name with it, but he was bound to ascend with the great balloon when called upon by the proprietors, as there was a legal difficulty in evading the ascent.”

“It has been suggested, and with some show of practicability, that he might by stratagem have brought Cocking down without allowing him to descend with his parachute alone, but Mr. Green distinctly stated on the other hand, that his individual impression was, that having withstood the pressure of the atmosphere in the ascent, the parachute would go down safely.”

“What with the danger to Mr. Green and his companion, Mr. E. Spencer, owing to the loss of so great a weight, it is evident that it was an ill-judged affair from first to last.”

“Most decidedly. Now please to tell me where this frail structure gave way.”

“The upper circle was made only of tin hooping, soldered together, and this broke before even the ascent was made.”

“It transpired, afterwards, that Cocking in all probability twisted the cord round his wrist, the better to enable him to effect his liberation by pulling hard at the trigger; in so doing it is conjectured that he was jerked against the smaller circle at the apex of the cone, and that his own body produced a fracture in the framework, which added to its weakness.”

“This concussion may have deprived him of sensibility as well, a wound found on his temple tends to confirm this view of the catastrophe.”

Thus ended our dissertation on parachutes; but long ere our further chat had ceased, we had approached the mouth of Father Thames, where a fresh breeze and a lively motion caused many passengers to go below, and others to obey the steward’s call to dinner. We responded, and went through not only the ceremony, but the enjoyment of, a generous repast, without feeling indisposed. On landing at Antwerp an Englishman presented himself on the quay, whom we took, and rightly so, for a gentleman who had entered into the balloon speculation at Brussels, and who had in consequence engaged my services to ascend.

He was a red-haired, gaunt person, extremely short-sighted, and wore a cap and close-fitting dress-coat, which had seen more sunny days and was conspicuously short in the sleeves. But, notwithstanding his optical infirmity, he was a match for the sharpest porter, and by tact he was soon up with the steward and ascertained our names and errand with astonishing sharpness.

In introducing himself, he brought his hand down upon the great basket, or balloon car, with some degree of familiarity, saying, “Well, here you are,” as if he had been intimately acquainted with us previously.

It was, however our first meeting, and was essentially of a business character, but anything like a stiff commercial view of this preliminary interview was soon removed by a jaunty nonchalance on his part. He then drew out a showy cigar case, and almost immediately replaced it, saying, “Wait a bit, we will go over to the hotel and breakfast first,” which we decided to do, after his perceiving that the cigar case was empty.

All doubt being then removed, Mr. S—— and I looked at each other, as much as to say, perhaps he is a capital fellow, notwithstanding his manner, looks, and short-comings.

After refreshment, our long-haired short-sighted, short-sleeved countryman proposed, or rather peremptorily decided upon pushing on to Brussels forthwith.

Matters were not quite so forward as he could wish, and although the ascent was positively announced, and the king had promised his patronage, still there was much to be done, and for his part he had quite lost faith in Frenchmen and Belgians. What all this meant, we could only surmise and think over privately.

On arriving at Brussels we found that the intended balloon ascent had received such careless attention, that the prospect of its taking place on the day announced was doubtful in the extreme.

It seemed that a company had been formed to carry out this little enterprise, and that one Frenchman, two Belgians, a Dutchman, and an Englishman, had united their abilities and purses to put it into execution.

The Englishman was clearly neither the treasurer nor principal. The Frenchman had chiefly to do with the Prado Gardens, whence the “Sylph” was to rise; and whether the Dutchman or the Belgians were the sleeping partners, or the capitalists, they deposed not, nor could we gather, although it soon became evident that the relative positions of each member of so complicated an association, required to be well and at once understood by me, before proceeding further in the matter.

I said, therefore, to the British representative of this amalgamated balloon company, that I was under the impression I was purely and solely engaged by the lessee of the Prado to make these ascents, and that he was a well-to-do and competent proprietor.

“So I thought,” observed the seedy Englishman.

“It appears to me that there are a prodigious number of cooks to prepare this simple mess of broth, and I tell you candidly,” I continued, “that unless the cash for the first ascent, and the requisite supply of gas are forthcoming within twenty-four hours I shall retire from Brussels but not without publicly alleging as a reason, that I have been deceived by the party inviting us to come over.”

On due inquiry, I ascertained that no pipes had been brought into the gardens of adequate size for the inflation, and that it was intended, without my approval or consent, to accomplish that all important task at a distant gas-works, outside the capital, and then before daybreak, to pass it over the housetops, and finally deposit it in the Prado, until such time as the public had assembled.

Now, although this process is one which I have frequently accomplished under favourable circumstances as to wind and locality, still to drag a balloon through Brussels, and risk its contact with high houses and chimneys, was an injudicious beginning, and I protested emphatically, and indeed declined it altogether.

I had, however, stood out, according to the letter of my own request, for cash and a supply of gas, and these terms, after no small altercation, were agreed to.

The cash was to be paid just when my part of the contract was about to be fulfilled; but the gas could not be delivered in the gardens, as the cost would be enormous, no such large pipes as those required being in the neighbourhood.

When the Englishman, with short sleeves and sight, first wrote to us in London, I was assured that “all the customary facilities for filling balloons would be found in the Vauxhall of Brussels,” and “that no doubt or hesitation need be felt on that score.”

But surely such discordant bickerings and confusion of languages, as we had, never before preceded the arrangements for this kind of work.

There was no money, no head, no gas, and no order in any step that had been taken, until I personally superintended the whole affair.

A certain amount of pressure and decision, however, brought this heterogeneous mixture of nationalities entirely to book, but they had me on one point, and at a tremendous advantage, namely, I was driven to fill the “Sylph” at the gas-works, and endeavour to transport it through the town.

This attempt was made in May, 1848, and on that occasion grey-eyed morn broke in with a high dawn and a reddish sky, an appearance which was interpreted as being very fine by those who assembled for an exciting view before breakfast.

We soon beat to quarters, as nautical men say, and, although we had “time by the forelock,” we were none too soon, as I was most anxious to be moving before the morning breezes were astir; and, though I had little time for noticing the barometer, still I had observed a decided drop, and did not altogether admire present appearances.

No sooner was the gas turned on than the “Sylph” began to display its proportions satisfactorily, and the lookers on threw themselves into various postures indicative of approbation.

“Ah! Monsieur Coxvel,” said one of the party, stroking down his beard, “you vil hav vun vary fine day; no vind, no nothink. Your transport vil no be difficile.”

Hereupon I glanced around the horizon, but returned the weather wise Belgian no reply. He then looked with such a scrutinizing glance, as to provoke an expression of discontent.

“Ah! vat you mean,” inquired he, “vy you frown?”

The fact was, a small solitary, dark-looking cloud had made its appearance to the westward; and, although a goodly distance off, was wending its way up with great rapidity. The configuration of this little intruder on the blue sky was such as to forbode wind.

“Gentlemen,” said I to those who were helping, “there is a fresh wind springing up, at no great distance from the earth, and if it does not extend downwards before reaching the gardens, we may consider ourselves fortunate.”

Several bystanders protested against the probability of this, and discussed the matter with flourishing action of the hands and much useless talk.

The Frenchman and the English agent grew quite warm as they expressed opposite views about the matter; but the Dutchman, who was one of the party, avowed his firm belief that squally weather was approaching, and the way in which he gave a furtive and semi-nautical glance above, showed at once that he shared my opinions and fears.

Our attention was directed as quickly as possible to securing the net lines to the hoop, so as to get a fair and equal bearing from a strong centre, and we had just completed this necessary precaution, when the long grass around us bent to leeward with a low, murmuring sound, and in less than half-an-hour after the first symptoms of an approaching gale, one fitful gust broke upon us, creating, as it acted upon the partially-filled balloon, a flapping, blustering sort of music, which only loud Boreas is accustomed to indulge in.

Around the hoop and in the car were placed about forty half-hundredweights, in order to steady the restless machine, which on being filled and let up to the extent of the netting rolled round in graceful sweeps over our heads.

The manager of the gardens, a sturdy Frenchman, was for a precipitate dash through the city, regardless of all risk, but the adventurous Englishman asked “How would Monsieur act if the balloon were his own property?”

“Vat you vil do?” said the military looking Belgian, who promised us “no vind, no nothink.”

“Why Sir,” I replied, “the fact is we have to contend with a most formidable opponent, and I think we can’t do better than act purely on the defensive, the assaults of this strong wind are quite as much as the balloon can bear, and if we attempt to charge in the teeth of the wind we shall only be repulsed, perhaps with heavy loss.”

As there appeared to be some doubt about the correctness of my views, which required translation, I ordered a general move forward, by way of demonstrating whether it were possible to keep on or whether it was better to lay-to until the wind dropped.

Our forces, so to speak, were thus divided:—twenty burly mechanics at the car, six to each guy-rope, about thirty to two ropes fastened to the hoop with a view of pulling the balloon along, myself in the car giving directions, the Englishman, whose sleeves were shorter than ever, at my right acting as interpreter, Mr. S—— on my left pulling for example’s sake; the manager of the Prado public garden, with subordinates, and small fry, were at their posts shouting vociferously, and thereby confounding the interpreter.

Away we marched, to the infinite delight of the Frenchmen, for a few steps right bravely, but suddenly, flap, round, up, down, went the “Sylph,” upsetting several of the party, and at last we were driven further back than we had actually advanced, which proved sufficient to convince everybody present as to who was right and who were wrong.

We now essayed to move laterally towards a somewhat sheltered spot, but here a fresh difficulty soon presented itself in the shape of a file of soldiers, who drew up near the balloon. An officer then advanced and summoned me to his presence.

There was something decidedly ominous in the undertoned conversation betwixt the officer and myself. I could perceive that all persons present preserved silence, and displayed a large amount of curiosity to ascertain what was going to happen.

The effect of the wind, which was gradually increasing, was not so apparent when the “Sylph” was sheltered behind some trees as it was previously, when each blast came upon us in its full fury, without break or hindrance. I therefore betook myself to the car and stowed away the sand-bags, getting rid of some half-hundredweights in their stead. Lastly I attached my liberating iron to the hoop, and passed into the hands of the workmen a rope connected therewith, which they were requested to hold, and I then informed the assistants that I wished to learn what ascending power the gas had, to effect which it would be necessary to allow the car to rise once or twice a few feet above the ground.

I noticed that the Belgians, Dutchman, and Frenchman, who were most interested in these proceedings, stood aloof in earnest conversation. Quite unexpectedly I found a pair of long hands and bare wrists over the side of the car, and before I could make the first trial with the balloon the Englishman, although short-sighted be it remembered, had vaulted in by my side, without explaining himself or asking of me an explanation, but I guessed when I put out a few bags of sand to equalize his weight that he knew as much of my real intentions as I did myself.

The moment I found the balloon had a buoyant tendency, I suddenly and unexpectedly pulled the trigger, when away went the “Sylph” with a bound, allowing the holders of the rope to go head-over-heels, and everybody else to be seized with the conviction that the balloon had broken away from its moorings.

My intrepid companion was not long in convincing me that he overheard the officer’s secret request, which was, that “owing to the then unsettled state of political affairs persons were not allowed to collect in numbers in the public thoroughfare, and that if I found it impossible to reach the Prado, the authorities requested that I would let out the gas and stop the proceedings.”

“In what way did you pledge yourself to the official?” asked my countryman, as he looked down upon the receding knot of astonished spectators beneath.

“Just allow me to let off a little gas, and I will tell you; we are rising fast notwithstanding our rapid movement forward. Replying to your question then, I merely promised the officer that the balloon should be removed with all possible expedition. It is not likely that I was going to haul down my colours, or in other words, to let out the gas without ascending.”

“But my partners in this speculation, the Frenchman and the others, will hardly comprehend this hasty exit.”

“Indeed they will,” I replied, “the officer will surely intimate his instructions, and my own way of executing his orders will not be displeasing in the long run.”

“What a magnificent view of fair Brussels, but how insignificant in size. Look at the Tower of Malines.”

“And far beyond,” I added, “you can see Antwerp.”

“I knew by your preparations you were going to ascend.”

“Did you,” I observed, “well, I told no one of my intentions, not even Mr. S——, I thought it would be better to clear off first and explain afterwards. It would have been useless to keep the balloon where it was, and I have no doubt the friends with whom you are connected will appreciate my motives by and bye.”

“We are now passing over a village,” said my companion, “which I have just recognised, and you will be astonished to hear that we are least sixteen miles from Brussels, and that we have not been up more than a quarter of an hour.”

“I am not surprised at our rate of travelling, but rather at your good sight in picking out a place well known to you.”

“Ah,” said the Englishman, “mine is a long sight, you will hardly believe that I command the entire panoramic view as clearly as you do; for instance, do you see anything besides those microscopic dots in that green patch? I mean anything besides the cows which graze in the meadows to the right of the farm-house.”

I looked attentively, and just detected a number of ducks, chiefly white ones, on the banks of a pond, but should not have noticed them unless I had examined minutely.

“How far do you suppose those insignificant specks are down?”

“I should guess 3000 feet, but not having my instruments I cannot accurately ascertain our height or the temperature of the air; indeed, we have little time even for landscape viewing, as I suppose we both wish to make Brussels again to-night, there to account for our unceremonious flight.”

I now let off some gas, and in a few minutes we found ourselves travelling with considerable velocity across a large common, where there were canals and banks in which the grapnel was likely to get hold.

I prepared my companion for a rough landing, telling him he must not mind it, as it was his own seeking.

To do him justice he seemed to like the aërial mode of transit, and when the iron took in a water-course and hung fast in the bank, causing the balloon and car to roll over, and then to break away again, he became conscious of the terrible force of the wind, and prepared for a succession of bumps and shocks.

We were soon trailing along towards another canal, the car keeping just clear of the ground, when I found that it was a good spot to catch in, and begged my fellow-traveller to keep fast and look out for squalls. Fortunately this we held fast, but the wayward “Sylph” struggled hard for freedom, and we were thrice driven down with unpleasant violence before I crippled the balloon so as to be able to get out.

We lost no time in returning from whence we came.

On the whole, people were well pleased, both those who were present at the start and those who had only heard of the peculiar circumstances under which it became expedient to make the ascent thus early in the morning.

The newspaper accounts of this first attempt of mine in Belgium eulogised it as “daring and extraordinary.” Public attention therefore was not only called to it, but to another, which was spoken of as certain to take place, provided the gas directors would bestir themselves for the public good.

Thus politely challenged, how could they reasonably refrain from obliging?

To do them justice, they came forward readily, and in less than a week a six-inch main was introduced into the Prado Gardens.

On the 2nd of June a large attendance of the inhabitants of Brussels testified the pleasure they derived from a close inspection of the balloon. They were invited to see something like novelty in connection with the ascent, as I had undertaken to show, on a miniature scale, how practicable it was to discharge aërial shells from a balloon, supposing they were needed in warfare, when it was not possible to bombard in the usual way, owing to the intervention of hills, water, or other impediments.

As there was hardly a breath of air stirring during inflation, the “Sylph” stood proudly erect, and seemed to bask in the sunshine, occasionally evincing a tendency to rise into the upper air, as if to escape the heat below, by soaring into the refreshing coolness of the skies.

A Belgian pyrotechnist having made the explosive shells, in strict accordance with my instructions, and in exact imitation of a model to scale, I was rather anxious to have them all brought out and adjusted before the last moment of setting off.

Great interest was manifested and some apprehension felt about these fireworks, which I had promised to ignite when 2,000 feet high.

The danger connected with their use rested in a great measure with the manufacturer.

If my instructions were rigidly adhered to, they would go off as certainly as a well-made military shell from a mortar. I had taken the precaution of attaching them to a separate battery, which was ready to lower when the balloon left the earth, and I could then pass down a rope ladder, something after the plan of Lieut. Gale, and by communicating with a fuse at a safe distance from the gas, the shells would be ignited.

Being perfectly satisfied with the entire disposition of this part of the contrivance, I invited my intended fellow travellers to enter the car. These were Mr. N——, a railway engineer, and Mr. S——. At eight o’clock p.m., barometer 30·2 and thermometer 66°, we set out for a calm, delightful journey.

The “Sylph” rose almost perpendicularly, so that there was no necessity for hurry in lowering the battery, or in going down to fire the shells.

In less than two minutes, a bluish outburst of smoke, followed by a sharp sound, announced that the first aërial shell had burst in mid-air; a second ring of smoke formed higher up near the balloon, and then a third and fourth exploded at about the original range, the rest following at stated intervals, and with remarkable precision.

Cheer succeeded cheer as each “bang” reached the earth.

“Look out for the next,” cried Mr. N—— as the twelfth shell darted down towards the housetops, and then detonated with a loud ringing report, which echoed in the still air like distant artillery. “That, indeed, is a splendid sight.”

“And sound too,” added Mr. S——. “How many more are there to go off now?”

“As many more,” I replied, “but there is no danger, they are all trimmed to a nicety, and made to fall at least 300 feet before exploding.”

“If these things were used on a large scale, how would you manage their ignition?” enquired the engineer.

“That might be by concussion, supposing the shells were formed like a pear, with two or three nipples at the heavier end, and by fuse as well in case of failure when striking, but we will speak of these matters by and bye; please to note down, barometer 25·4 and thermometer 47° Fahrenheit; we have been so busy as not to have observed the pressure and temperature, which were considerable.”

“It does not feel so much colder,” observed Mr. N——.

“No,” I answered, “for my part, it appears to me warmer, owing to my going up and down the ladder and otherwise exerting myself; but pray notice our course: you, as a resident, know all about that.”

“I am much mistaken,” said the engineer, “if we are not going direct for Waterloo. We are too, by Jove!”

“Bravo,” I exclaimed; “how stands the barometer?”

“About 5·800 feet, we will lower gradually, as we clear the forest of Soignes so as to have a good bird’s-eye view of the battle-fields.”

Mr. S——, who had been looking through a telescope, and who had only recently accompanied us to Waterloo, now caught sight of the lion on the mound.

“Sure enough,” he said, “we shall pass directly over.”

A balloon view of Waterloo with the surrounding country, and bold acclivities, fails entirely to convey the martial associations, which those noted Belgic plains would be expected to arouse. We felt hardly reconciled to the fact, that, on that cluster of fields, which looked so rural, and cultivated, the fate of Europe had been decided, in so great and sanguinary a contest.

As our survey happened to be made in the same month as that on which the memorable battle was fought; the general appearances of nature could not have been very dissimilar to what they were on June 17th, 1815, just when the British infantry bivouacked on the rising ground near the village, and the cavalry rested in those hollows in the rear.

It is true we gazed upon a landscape which was comparatively tame, when unenlivened by the armies of Wellington, Blücher, and Napoleon.

An aërial glance at that great historical picture would indeed have been a sight worth seeing. But the mere bird’s-eye view of the site was somewhat disappointing.

Could we have seen the downtrodden corn and rye, the clouds of smoke, the prancing horses, and helmeted riders, the splendid French columns impetuously advancing against the solid squares of red. Could we have heard the din and roar of musketry and cannon, and the wild hurrah of the last grand charge, then indeed the scene would have appeared fresh and imposing. Our bird’s-eye view of Waterloo, so far from being lively and soul-stirring, was rather of a philosophical and contemplative character.

One could not pass over the ruins of Hougomont, or the farm-house of La Haye Saint, without thinking of the dust and ashes of countrymen and fees which were there scattered in profusion; when we recollect that on the small surface of two square miles, 50,000 men and horses were ascertained to be lying, we can form some idea of the mouldering remains which lie beneath the ripening crops, which presented themselves to our view.

The sun had just set on the peaceful plains in rosy and majestic grandeur. The glorious King of Day declined also on June 18th, thirty-three years before we passed over in a balloon. But how different the scene!

On that evening after the battle, when the cries of the wounded filled the air, as the roar of artillery ceased, and, as night approached, the earth was red dyed and sodden; but on this—inviting cheers of welcome came to us on all sides, and at Waterloo we met with a most friendly reception.

I made one more ascent in the year 1848, in Belgium; this time from the Bourse, at Antwerp. The voyage which was made under great disadvantages presented a rare and remarkable feature. The Englishman, with whom the reader has been made acquainted, was again commissioned to negociate with the gas directors of Antwerp, respecting an ample supply for the inflation; but it again happened that the delivery was by no means equal to our expectations. In fact, when the hour for departure arrived, the “Sylph” was not half full.

What was to be done? The visitors would be disappointed, and my own name connected with a failure.

“Well, that won’t do,” I remember saying, “if there is any means of rising above the Exchange, and clearing Antwerp, I must resort to it.”

“Give me a supply of cordage, and let me tie a few lines across the hoop, and see if there is gas enough to take me up without a car. Do not say a word to anyone, lest our plans are thwarted.”

Having placed myself in the hoop, without any other protection whatever, I found that the balloon would just raise me. The spectators were not aware that I was about to leave them, minus a car to sit in, so that, on mounting over their heads, great surprise was at first manifested, but followed quickly by expressions of approbation, when my risky position was known to be owing to a determination to fulfil my contract. I attained a great elevation during this trip, but, being without a barometer, I could only estimate it approximately at two and a half miles, and this was done by observing that the balloon rose until it became fully distended, and as it was not half inflated at starting, I knew I was quite, if not over two and a half miles high, because a volume of gas will double its bulk at an elevation of nearly three miles and three-quarters.

The excessive cold I experienced was no doubt to be attributed to the current of air passing through the ring, without being in any way broken either by a wicker car or extra clothing.

Not having any ballast to put out or to work with, I was anxious to allow the balloon to rise and fall by alternate expansion and condensation, without letting out gas through the upper valve.

My descent was safely made near Turnhout.

A messenger from Brussels, direct from Callow’s Hotel, arrived on the morning after the ascent, requesting an immediate interview on the part of a gentleman from Prussia, who was anxious to take me over the Rhine.

At the appointed hour, two cards were sent up, and a local solicitor presented himself, and introduced me to Herr Abraham Küpper, the proprietor of Johannisberg, a celebrated locale, as it was styled, at Elberfeld.

Herr Küpper, a fine stout fellow with an immense beard, which spread over a spotless white waistcoat, was one of those men who make a pleasing first impression.

I conceived a decided prejudice in his favour before we had entered much into matters of business, and as he was willing to agree to my own terms for a certain number of ascents, the services of the solicitor were soon brought into requisition, and an agreement entered into which was mutually satisfactory. Herr Küpper then requested the favour of our company during the afternoon, and as a carriage was at the door, he proposed a drive in the Park.

Mr. S——, together with our friend, the roving Englishman, whose personal appearance had improved, was pleased to find that our prospects were brightening, and I ought to state that the latter was not personally responsible, or at any rate to be blamed, for the difficulties we had to contend with in Brussels; all that should be placed to the account of his associates in the badly-managed speculation. It was the Dutchman, the Belgian, and the Frenchman who were not up to their work, he now pointed out, and happy was he to find that this fine bold Prussian, with whom we were treating, was evidently a man of business, and he further added, but not until we had partaken of champagne as well as good claret, that he, Herr Küpper, clearly knew what he was about; but whether the Englishman was alluding to the treat instead of the treaty he did not say; but this much he let out, that he was so much taken with our new acquaintance that he should be happy, at our expense, to go with us to Elberfeld, but as Küpper could neither speak French nor English, and as the rest of our party could not say much in German, Mr. S—— pertinently asked whether he wished to be engaged as interpreter or companion.

He was silenced at this enquiry, since none of us while drinking success to the undertaking could understand or properly reply to the caterer from Rhineland.

However, we started with him after a day or two spent in sight-seeing, but we left the Brussels agent at his lodgings, committing ourselves to the care of Herr Küpper, whose agreeable postures and friendly attentions, combined with the most amusing efforts to do a little broken English, made some amends for want of fluency on both sides, but no sooner had we arrived at the Johannisberg Gardens at Elberfeld, than the redoubtable proprietor called aloud, over the heads of a large assemblage of visitors, for Mr. B——, when a gentleman, wearing a white hat and green coat, came forward and hailed us as countrymen, saying how glad he was to see us, and confirming his honest outburst with such a hearty shaking of hands that a cry of “bravo!” burst from many of those present.

Herr Küpper having thus introduced us, vociferated for champagne, cigars, &c., though he need not have cried so loud, as there were two or three kelners close behind him; it had, however, to our way of thinking a grand and welcome ring about it, and so thought Mr. B——, who was none of your mock modest men, when good wine stared him in the face.

“Go it Dick,” cried another Englishman, who was seated near our table, and what with the accent of this familiar advice, backed with other pleasantries, we soon felt at ease, if not at home.

Herr Küpper, some time after our refreshment with Mr. Dick B——, invited us to see the ball-room and the grounds; we dined together somewhat later, and after an excellent repast were present at the concert.

Dick B—— was getting rather effusive in his explanations as to the musicians, and becoming very red in the face, but he impressed us as being a capital fellow under the circumstances in which we were placed, and he was considered as such by many of his pupils who were present, and who rejoiced to see him happy.

“You are not perhaps aware,” said Mr. B——, “that I am a teacher of languages.”

Nor were we—as I, for one, had put him down as an equestrian or circus master; however, we had fortunately not allowed the secret cogitations to escape our lips, so no harm was done. Mr. B——, on our separating that evening, promised to be “at our service” early next morning, and sure enough Dick came to an early breakfast, and had not, as we inferred, had very much sleep.

“The early bird gets the worm,” said Mr. B——, as he helped himself to some wurst, or smoked sausage, by way of a patronising start.

“Make yourselves at home, gentlemen. Do you like raw ham and black bread?” “I do,” he added; “have found out a thing or two since I left the great city,” meaning London.

Mr. S—— who had delicate digestive organs, and who had not travelled much, failed in doing that justice to his first German breakfast, which Mr. B—— tackled with such gusto. He, however, partook of his coffee with a quiet nod of approval, and was in the act of finishing his first cup when the teacher of languages, looking S—— straight in the face, said, “I suppose you had a smother of frogs at Callow’s Hotel in Brussels;” but, perceiving that Mr. S—— turned pale, he exclaimed, “My good fellow, what’s the matter?”

Poor S—— then ejected, almost in Mr. B——’s face, the black contents of his white cup; he sprang up in a nervous, bewildered state, when I had to do the amiable by way of apology.

Mr. Dick laughed, but stuck to his guns, and recommended eggs, when Mr. Abraham Küpper’s voice was heard approaching, who entered smiling, and was followed by a waiter with beefsteaks well broiled, but small; there were three of them, by the way.

Mr. B—— rose to salute either the steaks or mine host, and rubbed his hands with great glee.

“Eh, vat Mein Herren?” asked Herr Küpper, looking to B—— for a response, as to Mr. S——’s sad appearance.

Dick, in German, assured the landlord that he had saved the life of Mr. S—— who would positively starve unless he had something of that kind to begin the day with.

“Donner wetter; what will he end with then?” asked Küpper astonished; of course he knew S—— did not understand the remark, which was made in German.

Dick B—— next declared in point blank Saxon, that for his part “he had got his second wind,” and the steaks having restored Mr. S—— by their timely arrival, we managed to pull through; the teacher having taught us already more than one important lesson, and, what is more, illustrated them with his own knife and fork, again fell to with an appetite which was tremendous, considering that he was generous with his coffee and had confessed to a couple of seidels of Beirisch before he put in an appearance.

This, our first substantial breakfast went off very well considering B——’s sallies and noble example.

“Now to business,” he said, after receiving our thanks for his service at table.

Outside in the gardens, we could perceive one or two gas-men with their chief engineer, and Abraham himself in his smoking cap, and a long tight-fitting dressing gown, which reached to his slippers; in this attire we noticed how sturdy he was, and withal how commanding.

“He turns sixteen and a half centners,” said B——, and their weights are heavier than ours—“but come gentlemen, I perceive Küpper is getting impatient.”

We thought that B—— toned down a good deal as we drew near to the monarch of Johannisberg, who puffed his cigar, and then brushed off, or rather hit aside a bit of steak adhering to B——’s coat.

What a change in manner and deportment, I thought. The fact was we had kept them all waiting to get instructions as to the laying of the gas pipes, while the teacher kept us pottering about inside, merely to gratify his own inordinate propensity for creature comforts.

“Meester Coxvel,” cried Küpper—one might have heard his voice half round Elberfeld.

B—— translated with a tremulous accent, as if he were funky; the plain English of it was this—Would I point out, or stamp my foot, to use Küpper’s definition, on the exact spot where the pipes were to terminate in the inner circle, just where the balloon was to be filled.

Perceiving, with half an eye, what kind of man we had to do with, I ran to the spot, stamped my foot firmly down, and cried out “here.”

“Sehr gut, now Herr Coxvel, (Mr. B—— translated) where will you place the balloon?”

The reply, sharp and emphatic on my part, was again “here,” but I had moved in the meantime a few yards farther on, and the smartness with which Küpper’s questions were answered, elicited his approval, as he raised his smoking cap, advanced towards me with a kindly greeting, and drew forth his cigar case.

“You have made a hit of it, if I have not,” cried B—— who was now regaining self-possession.

All the preparations having been made to the satisfaction of Küpper, who was a bit of a Tartar in his own domain, I was invited to accompany him down town at midday, Mr. S—— being left to the care of B—— who had begged a holiday from his pupils—they knowing, presumably, that he would scarcely be equal to his duties, until he had indulged in his first diversion of ballooning.

Abraham Küpper was great in riding, and he was also great in walking, he stood over six feet without his glazed boots, and when, after alighting from an open trap, he placed his arm in mine, and again withdrew it to stroke down his fine flowing beard, he attracted the attention of those who were passing by, and further rivetted it, by pronouncing my name in no undertone, so that I heard several persons observe, “Abraham und der Luftschiffer.”

He then led me with stately deportment into a confectioner’s, where in a private room we met several professors, doctors, and merchants, most of them I was relieved to find, speaking English; but Küpper on the way had been polite enough to drill into me a rapid instalment of his own language, although it was not high German, I was told—still to me it had a most imposing utterance, accompanied as it was, with considerable action.

One of the party to whom I was introduced, asked the pleasure of my company next day at their scientific institution, as there were papers to be read and discussion to follow on an interesting subject.

Küpper agreed that I was to be there without asking if I was that way disposed.

He next hurried me on, goodness knows to how many different places, and I could not but feel that his attentions were of a superior order to what I had met with in Brussels.

At the Institution on the following day, I was at first disappointed, as the proceedings appeared to me of an informal, and easy going kind.

The room where we met was redolent with the perfumes of tobacco, and coffee was being served, but I soon found out that the proceedings were of a philosophical character, being assisted with explanations in English from Herr Buchmann, who spoke our language well.

After the lecture I tried to get away, feeling much ashamed of my inability to converse in German, but I was retained by Herr Buchmann, who drew me out on my own speciality, and I was glad to find by questions put from different parts of the room that most of those present could express themselves intelligibly in my native tongue.

“Had I any views of my own in writing?” Yes, I had by me a pamphlet, which was read, and which referred to military ballooning. My opinions so far commended themselves to those present that I was invited to become an honorary member, and of course signed my name.

By the time announcements had gone forth as to the first ascent, I had made so many acquaintances, that I positively required a new hat after so often raising my old one, according to the approved local fashion which they managed with so much ease and frequency, that I wondered how they could do so with such little wear and tear to the rim.

Mr. B—— informed me that he never could attain to that mode of salutation, he prided himself on being a Briton to the back bone, and satisfied himself, if not the ladies by a semicircular move of the right hand from his chest outwards. B—— was a favourite, I found, notwithstanding his brusque address. I began to feel afraid that he would neglect his own interests by devotion to our cause.

One day I overheard a protest from one of his best patrons, which terminated with “that confounded balloon,” but Dick always turned up when he was wanted, and now and again when he had better have been engaged elsewhere; he was a typical cockney of the unaffected, commercial class, never having taught his own language until he took up his abode in Elberfeld.

Very early on the morning of the ascent, I mean by 5 a.m., the voice of Herr Küpper might be heard over the housetops, and along the valley of the River Wupper. Mr. B—— was in attendance, and trying to soothe the lessee’s occasional irritability, but he had been upset by one Peter, a Kellerman who was thought to have imbibed his master’s beer, brewed on the premises. Out of twenty workmen who had been told off for our assistance, this Peter had been placed by me to hold the neck part of the balloon, where the gas passes in through a hose.

After doing his best for some time, poor Peter’s eyes began to roll rather wildly, when Küpper, with more haste than discretion, sent him to the right about, which caused Peter to stumble against the balloon; Küpper, terribly indignant at this, gave him such a lift under the “stern sheets,” as the sailors say, that Peter impelled by the motive power of the governor’s left leg, flew, as it were, out of the enclosure; the incident caused some merriment, and at the same time it induced me to examine the connecting links of the hose pipe. They were all right, but below the hoop of the safety valve, Peter, in his eagerness to hold fast, had sent his nails through the silk, and had made a hole, so that the poor fellow was taking in the fumes of gas, which accounted for his stupefaction.

This explained—it is due to Küpper to say that Peter was recalled, cheered up, and told to have his coffee and something with it, on a table in the garden.

I soon repaired the fracture, when Peter volunteered to try again. I was not displeased with the proposal, and took pains to explain the best method of manipulating such delicate material.

Peter’s efforts were now a masterpiece of caution blended with dexterity, and his reappearance produced a feeling of admiration and sympathy among all who were assisting at the inflation.

The flow of gas was much stronger than I had expected, owing to our elevated position. An indication of perfect satisfaction on my part, caused Herr Küpper to light his morning cigar, an act which drew forth a flash of disapproval in my eyes and face, so that the big man almost quailed when I shouted that match striking so near the balloon was highly dangerous. Küpper immediately sent his sweet smelling cigar flying outside the circle; when I explained that it was the flame, not the tobacco that I considered risky.

Mr. B——, Mr. S——, and the engineer were now chuckling over the alternate indications of official temper, which two of us as the chief actors had displayed in our respective capacities.

“A certain amount of this sort of thing goes down like goose stuffing,” said Mr. B——.

“And enforces authority and caution,” cried Mr. S——.

“Precisely,” admitted the teacher, “but I do hope that Küpper will restrain himself, his temper at times is alarming; but see how soft and subdued he looks now that Madame Küpper is approaching; no wonder, she has announced that breakfast is ready.”

“Meester Coxvel, Meinherren, beefsteak and coffee all ready.”

“No objection,” was the answer, as we were well ahead with the filling, “suppose we stop for an hour, Mr. S—— will keep watch until I return, and the men can have their coffee brought out.”

“And so I will,” said Mr. S——, “but I say B——, not too much steak, and no frogs, mind that.”

Mr. B—— simply waved his hand in reply, as the great man Küpper inspired him with a certain amount of awe, which there was no mistaking.

My first ascent from Elberfeld was on July 16th, 1848. It was almost a cloudless day, but not oppressively hot, as a fresh wind blew which made it desirable to call in thirty men to hold the netting.

I had appointed Mr. B—— to be my first lieutenant, and in order to assist me, he had obtained the permission of his pupils, most of whom were present, as much, probably, to see their preceptor in a new capacity, as to patronize me and the balloon.

The recreation grounds where the visitors had assembled, were of an oblong form, and perfectly dry, with gravel beneath. A vast number of tables were arranged in rows, so that families and parties of friends sat each at their own quarters.

The ladies were nearly all knitting or otherwise at work, and during the instrumental performances, gentlemen smoked their cigars, drank coffee, and conversed in a quiet way, which struck one as making a pleasing contrast with some of our out-door gatherings in England.

Mr. Abraham Küpper occupied a central position at a table fronting the balloon, and was surrounded by a choice staff of patrons, who, as the afternoon advanced, preferred sparkling wine to heavier beverage served in seidel glasses.

Mr. B——, who had most heroically stood his ground against the united force of a strong current of wind, which had ever and anon distorted the symmetrical form of the “Sylph,” and blown some of the men over, now sent to me to allow him to retire for one minute, not that he wished to relinquish his post of directing the men, but that he required to speak, for one moment, to Herr Küpper.

On seeing Mr. B—— approach, the noble proprietor who wore a plum coloured dress-coat, and a variegated smoking cap, filled a bumper of hock, so that by the time Mr. B—— had wiped his moist brow, and taken a seat by invitation, he found himself confronted with friends, together with an abundance of pungent snuff and cooling wine.

“I wonder which he will take first,” asked Mr. S——, watching Mr. B——’s movements askance.

“It’s a hundred to one he drinks the wine,” said I, but before I had finished speaking, his glass was empty, and quickly refilled by Herr Küpper, who, with a patronizing pat of the back, called him “gut boy,” alluding not, of course, to his smartness with the wine glass, but to his arduous duties around the balloon, by which he drew forth high encomiums from the spectators, as well as from Herr Küpper and myself.

Although Mr. B—— exceeded the time specified by himself for his absence, still I declined to trouble him to return, as I felt sure his physical exertions were already more than he was accustomed to, and I had an object in reserving his powers for the final effort, knowing that when the balloon was let up to its full height, it would roll about with great force, and require all the available strength to hold it in check.

The miniature bombardment, illustrative of the applicability of aërial shells to military purposes, was to take place on a larger scale than at Brussels.

I rather hoped to have Mr. B——’s company in my travels to Cloudland, but resolved not to propose it until the last moment.

When the car was being attached, Herr Küpper, and Mr. B—— entered the inner enclosure, and every assistance was tendered, but the wind unfortunately seemed late in lulling, and we were frequently thrown into ludicrous positions, by which the company was kept excited, and the juveniles furnished with matter for laughter.

Just before the shells and battery were fixed, Mr. B—— became the “observed of all observers,” and created no little merriment and clapping of hands.

I had called him to the car to suggest his ascending, and at that moment a cruel gust blew the balloon almost down to the ground, and upset Mr. B—— as he advanced, but recovering himself with admirable agility, he seized the netting by way of support, when the balloon again caught the breeze, and rolled round on the other tack, carrying the astonished teacher with it, so that, minus his hat, he was suspended some altitude from the ground, but held on with such resolute tenacity, that a cry was soon raised of “Bravo B——, very brave,” and as the “Sylph” backed round on the other side, Mr. B—— was rescued, and again led by Herr Küpper to the refreshment table, where he composed himself and received the congratulations of many of his friends.

“It will never do to take him up after that shaking,” urged Mr. S——.

“Right, I will start alone, next time there will be plenty of candidates; please to attach the shells, as I shall slip cable in five minutes.”

The band now formed round the car; Messrs. Küpper, and B—— held the last connecting link, and at six o’clock I released the “Sylph,” immediately lowered the battery, and on passing down the Jacob’s ladder, received a perfect ovation.

The shells fell quite regularly, and made an unusually loud report, reverberating among the adjacent hills on either side of the river Wupper.

The sky being clear from cloud, the smoke which followed each explosion produced a splendid effect, and imparted a totally new aspect to the appearance of a balloon in mid-air.

The “Sylph” not being fully inflated, and the car without passengers, I had some difficulty in retracing my steps after discharging the fireworks, whether the lookers on observed this, I could not say, but on resting half way up the rope ladder, I heard sounds more akin to a thrill of horror than a cheer; no doubt the position of dangling between the car and the battery, looked perilous, but it was not more so than some of the acts of seamen, although excessive height added of course to the risk.

The subsequent journey was very enjoyable, being my first aërial voyage in Prussia.

I had been cautioned, before ascending, against some large forests in the direction I should travel, and noticed them around me, without any considerable opening to come down in.

Being quite alone I was naturally disinclined to extend my journey beyond a reasonable distance, so I brought the “Sylph,” after attaining an elevation of 1,500 yards, to within a few hundred feet of the tree tops, and perceiving an open space hard by with a plantation of young pines, I dropped the grapnel just in an eligible clump of trees, and was glad to find that the wind had lulled, and that I was anchored firm and fast.

The car lodged in the boughs and only the balloon remained in sight; but as to whether there were people to be found in so outlandish a spot I began to be doubtful, as I had shouted for some time, and neither heard a human voice nor footsteps.

Repeated shouts had, however, some effect, as I perceived a country girl without shoes or stockings, and one or two men creeping along in attitudes of amazement towards the plantation in which the “Sylph” was moored; a few wood-cutters and children soon added to the number, and when they got pretty close I shouted again, but it was a wild English ye-upp, more like an omnibus driver’s warning than a German call for help.

The result was the people withdrew affrighted; if they could have seen me it might have altered the case, but I was ensconced in the trees, and my voice was neither familiar nor understandable.

Believing that curiosity would prevail, I contented myself by keeping quiet in the car for some little time, and before many minutes had elapsed I perceived the bare-legged girl moving stealthily towards me, supported by followers in the background; I purposely kept low and let out gas, by which means the basket slipped towards the ground as the girl pressed forward.

Just as she got within range I sprang up in the basket and seized the comely creature’s rounded arms, and drew her very near to me; she was then clearly less frightened, as she uttered a few guttural sounds accompanied with looks of kindness.

The men then ran up and helped to get the balloon clear of the trees, so that I received plenty of attention; and later, when I went to the damsel’s house, her mother made coffee for me, after which I was driven some miles to the railway station and returned to Elberfeld.

My second ascent from Johannisberg took place on July 24th. A third soon followed, but the fourth was chiefly remarkable from the fact that Herr Küpper ascended with me himself, although he had always said that no real or imaginable inducement would get him up in a balloon.

If Küpper’s courage was not in proportion to the bulk of his body he pulled himself very well together at the start. It was only when I left him alone to go down the ladder that large drops of perspiration started from his brow.

I promised to be back soon.

“Yah, aber mein Gott—if you go down headlong,” he added, but I heard this not, and might not have understood the German rendering if I had.

When the bombardment of Elberfeld commenced certain utterances did reach my ear in the second car below, but whether I was being cheered or denounced, whether Küpper was sick or joyful, I could not divine; this I know, that when I returned or (to use parliamentary language) when I was promoted from the lower house to the upper, I certainly did notice that my sole companion was in a pitiable plight so far as facial moisture was concerned.

A capacious handkerchief appeared drenched, and still the drops were oozing fast from the expanded pores of his skin. He must have lost a couple of pounds’ weight while I was down below. A rapid recovery, however, took place, especially after both of us had benefited by restoratives; then was Abraham more composed, and anxious not to go too far, as he looked forward, I could gather by his pointing to, and his remarks about Johannisberg, that he wished to get back as soon as convenient.

I managed accordingly, and just as the ball-room lights appeared resplendent, and the band was tuning up for a dance, we entered amidst cries of “Hoch Küpper;” “Leben sie lang Herr Coxvel,” &c.; and great indeed were the rejoicings which were, it is perhaps needless to observe, participated in by Mr. B—— and Mr. S——, cum multis aliis.

During the autumn of this year (1848) I made a dozen voyages from this place, and the confidence displayed by the proprietor was felt also by Madame Küpper, her daughter and sons, as also by Mr. B—— and a very long list of ladies and gentlemen, who by watching the safe return, and good reports of the pioneers who first ventured, felt satisfied of the pleasure to be derived, and were prepared to venture themselves.

Before making the two concluding trips of the season, a speculation was entered into by Herr Küpper, Mr. S——, and myself, at Cologne, with a view of trying an ascent during the grand visit of the late King of Prussia, on the occasion of the 600th anniversary of the building of the cathedral.

I had no faith myself in the pecuniary success of this undertaking, but the joint speculators were very sanguine of a golden harvest.

Although an immense number of strangers came into Cologne, and the hotels were filled to overflowing, the processions and religious ceremonies so engrossed public attention that the balloon grounds, after expensive preparations, were but poorly patronized.

A large sum of money was lost by these ill-conceived projects, which turned out a serious matter to us.

The last display but one was in the month of October at Johannisberg, and it was a night ascent with fireworks attached to the balloon—but fireworks altogether of a different kind to the shells which I had detached previously. In its way this might be called a grand pyrotechnic display á la Vauxhall; but the specific gravity of the gas was not as on former days, and a humid atmosphere at night-fall increased the weight of the “Sylph” to such an extent that it would not raise the fireworks. I found that the whole weight would not ascend.

A buzz of disappointment then began to arise, but it was not of long duration, as I begged the firework maker to cut away about one-third of the cases, and calling for a rope some 300 feet long, which had been employed before for partial ascents, I got into the ring without any car, and gave directions to fire the fuse and let up to the full extent of the cable.

This was equally effective, and the people were much more pleased than if I had made a bungling effort by being overweighted.

I had afterwards the honour of being carried round the grounds and the ball-room on the shoulders of some of the most respected citizens.

There was yet one more aërostatic exhibition which I was called upon to engage in, and that was in connection with the annual Shutzen Fest at Barmen, an adjoining neighbourhood, about three English miles from Herr Küpper’s noted locale.

These interesting gatherings are managed in a style of magnificence peculiar to Germany.

So far as the balloon was concerned it was not required for an ordinary ascent, but rather as an aërial chariot to do honour to the “King of the Feast,” and to afford a panoramic view to as many as obtained tickets for the privilege of being let up a tolerable altitude over the heads of the assembled thousands.

First came the king with cocked hat, feathers, and gay costume; and then a large silver goblet and a bottle of champagne were handed in; when we—that is the king and the aëronaut only—were let up to drink Hoch, to the success of the society.

His majesty accorded me a most fraternal greeting, in the midst of which the people cheered vociferously.

As if to prolong the compliment, the king continued some time with his arms round my shoulders, and this appeared to be the signal for renewed cheering, but Dick B—— who had charge of the ropes, and who knew how such German salutations bothered and perplexed an Englishman, gave a sudden jerk to the ropes, by which his majesty was reminded that he did not occupy an earthly throne; and thus freed from such distinguished favours, I gave the signal to haul down, when other members of the club had, each according to his merit, a ride in the balloon car.

The festivities and the rope ascents were kept up all that day and night. So far as the balloon was concerned, its duties were at an end by daybreak, but as the “Sylph” contained sufficient gas to raise me—although it had not been replenished for forty-eight hours—I made up my mind, instead of letting it out, to ascend to a great height, and witness the sunrise.

Although everybody appeared to be fagged out, and I was more fitted myself for rest than travelling, still the opportunity of so glorious a spectacle on a calm autumnal morning was not to be lost.

I therefore hurried on my departure; and slipped away with an easy ascending power, travelling very low for a few miles of country, when the gas began to expand more rapidly, and the balloon mounted up with an accelerated speed, as if it were a thing of life, apprehensive of being late to usher in the cheering king of day.

The barometer at starting was 29·70, and Reaumur’s thermometer was 9°. Just before six o’clock the former had fallen in the course of forty minutes to 17·50, and the latter to -3° or seven degrees of frost according to Fahrenheit. The effects of this amount of cold were doubtless greater, owing to fatigue, damp boots, and a want of exercise before starting.

I have been up more than twice the elevation since, without feeling the cold so severely, although Fahrenheit’s thermometer has registered several degrees below zero.

The sun’s rays in this morning ascent were clear, and though they pass through space without imparting much heat—unless they are reflected and radiated—yet it must be remembered that the balloon itself is a diminutive planet as it were, and intercepts the sun’s influence, if the atmosphere is free from clouds.

Before the sky had given the customary indication of sunrise to the city below, it was grand and impressive to contrast the high and rosy dawn, of which I had a view, with the dark gloom still pervading the earth towards the east; and even when in blood-red majesty the great luminary had risen above the ridge of the distant horizon, the land beneath was as yet comparatively dark, showing thereby the excessive elevation of the balloon.

I determined very soon after witnessing sunrise to seek a warmer atmosphere, and descended about 6000 feet rather quickly; here I lost the sun, but immediately he rose again for the second time, when a large looking tower, a few miles ahead, came into view; and, as I had not observed this place previously, I determined to get as near as possible, and again used the valve pretty freely to accomplish my object. When within 1200 feet of the ground, I was astonished to find that my downward course had been almost as rapid as the rising of the sun. He was again very near the visible horizon. Grand and singular were the views which I had on that memorable morning.

In this part of my experiences, I purposely abstain from giving details of the variations of height and temperature, because further on in the account of my life it will be quite in place to do so.

Even for scientific men, the constant repetition of monotonous tables is calculated to mar the freshness of continuous narrative. Besides, in public ascents for festive purposes, it has never been the custom of aëronauts to dot down more than occasionally the different states of the atmosphere. Indeed, if they attend mechanically to the requirements of the balloon, they have not much time for this work, unless they have assistance.

Without knowing what town it was in advance, I lowered on the leeward side, and noticed a great many priests and soldiers. As the grapnel trailed over a field, I heard a scream, like the voice of a child. On turning to see if the iron had caught anything, I saw a hare, hooked on to the prongs, but it was knocked off again before the progress of the balloon was arrested.

The town proved to be Munster and after déjeuner, and a description of the voyage to several of the good people of the place, I felt the over-powering effects of change of air, with no previous rest for two nights.

Before dropping off to sleep, I asked the hours of the post leaving. “If,” thought I, “the first is lost through somnolency, I shall certainly be ready for the last;” but it so happened that the two slipped past, and I did not awake until aroused for abend brod.

Early next day I wrote to Mr. S——, telling him of my whereabouts, and inviting him to join me for a few days at Munster. I received no reply, for the best of all reasons, he had not received the news, but intelligence of a rather gloomy character had reached Elberfeld, as it appeared by the Zeitung of that town that I had been killed on my aërial journey, having fallen out of the car near Dortmund, half way between Barmen and Munster. On receipt of this intelligence, Mr. S—— and another gentleman named Drebes were despatched immediately to the spot where the disaster was said to have happened, but no authentic information could be obtained, beyond the fact that the “Sylph” had passed overhead, at a great elevation, between seven and eight o’clock A.M., on the morning referred to.

The party in search then decided to go on to Munster, but we fortunately met at Hamm railway junction, I having lost no time, after being killed by the newspapers, in getting back to establish my vitality.

It may well be supposed, that the interview on my arrival, was of an exciting order. It was not the first time that I had received the congratulations of people who had believed me dead, but this reception I met with was very sincere, and I am not sure that it didn’t put some new life into one who had been so sensationally deprived of existence by mere rumour.

Ballooning being over for the season, Mr. S—— returned to England, and as I was disposed to remain in Germany for the winter, it was not long before a proposal was made, that I should purchase the balloon and ascend entirely on my own account.

Having agreed to do so, I stayed at Elberfeld for the winter.

Before I left, the revolutionary movement had broken out afresh in the Rhine Province, and I had an opportunity of seeing a few shots fired, and a vast deal of excitement in Elberfeld.

After a great deal of agitation and discontent, a number of Prussian soldiers were on their march to preserve order. I was taking a stroll one day with Mr. B——, when it was reported that the military were approaching. Barricades had been formed already with the pavement stones from the streets.

There was a general uproar. We were spectators of the riot, and saw the mob try to fire the Mayor’s house, and eventually do a vast deal of injury.

On the arrival of a battery of nine-pounders, and a few companies of infantry, the barricades were manned, and flags of defiance hung out. The soldiers drew up in the principal square, and towards evening they moved forth, when we were not far from the barricades.

The street in which the first obstacle was raised, had riflemen at the windows; a captain was shot, and several soldiers killed or wounded before the discharge of cannon. The defenders of this barricade were either frightened or blown away much quicker than we expected, but as darkness crept on, the military withdrew, expecting a reinforcement in the morning from Düsseldorf.

During the night, Mr. B—— and I visited the barricades, it was not an easy matter to approach or enter them, but everybody knew the luftschiffer or aëronaut, and the English teacher, and no one supposed that we were spies or combatants.

Among the gaily decorated occupiers of the barricades, were several of the men who had assisted as labourers at the balloon ascents; some of these men claimed an intimate acquaintanceship, and although they merely drank small beer when engaged in our service, yet now that the tables were turned, they invited us to drink something stronger, and it was not advisable to offer them a slight by an arrogant refusal.

The hours we spent among the barricades, and in the hotels which were behind them, proved entertaining and instructive.

At Easter in the year 1849, I made the first spring trip at Barmen, but before midsummer I started for Berlin, where notices were already out, to the effect that I would ascend shortly from the far-famed Kroll’s Gardens.

There were two points about my first exhibition in the Prussian capital, which caused it to be well remembered. The first was a public demonstration of the possibility of discharging petards with safety. The second was a riot in the Thier Garten, outside the Brandenburg Gate, where considerable damage was done to the shrubs, and a quarrel occurred with the constables, some of whom were severely beaten. A detachment of soldiers was called in to restore order, but General Wrangel was prevented from inspecting my apparatus, and that illustrious soldier was stoned on his way to the gardens, so that the police authorities prohibited any more ascents, and I was ordered to remove the cause of disorder, which was the balloon. But instead of obeying the instructions of the two fierce looking messengers from the President of Police, I caused them to be referred to Miss Kroll, the proprietress. I then ascended, as at Brussels, before the stated hour, offering as a reason, the following morning, that it was easier and more congenial with my feelings, to let out the gas at some distant place, than to be compelled to do so on my first essay in Berlin.

On due application on the part of myself and Miss Kroll, the prohibition against ascending again was withdrawn. I not only did so on June 11th, but on the 19th instant as well. This time the “Sylph” passed over Berlin, and was becalmed for more than an hour, affording an excellent opportunity for the Berliners to witness the bombardment.

There was so little air stirring this evening, that the descent was made on the military exercising grounds, outside the capital. It struck me on landing, that instead of letting the gas off, I would move the balloon outside the walls of Berlin, round to Kroll’s Gardens again, for a second ascent.

This was a difficult and tedious achievement, but the weather was favourable for its accomplishment, and it was my ambition to surprise and please the Garden visitors by exploits which had never been carried out before.

Miss Kroll’s brother accompanied me in the car, and we directed a number of soldiers and civilians to march on in the way considered best.

The wonder was that the police did not stop the procession. On arriving at a part of the outskirts, where some trees and water presented a barrier to our transit, an idea struck me that an immense amount of time and labour might be saved, if I dared to strike straight through Berlin, but Mr. Kroll was of opinion that the soldiers would not permit us to pass the gates, unless we had authority to do so.