Part 10

Another successful ascent was made from the same spot on October 7th, when Herr Alexander Spindler and Herr Leopold Spitzer were my companions. We let down a large parachute on this occasion, with a dog in the car.

Leaving Brünn I made straightway for Vienna, where I learnt that an exhibition would have to be made in the Prater, and that on no account could I expect to have my balloon in any other spot.

Now the Prater was an excellent park-like ground for a spring or summer gathering, but it was now getting late in October, and my only chance was a more suitable locality in the inner town.

Just opposite the Palace was situated the Volks-garten, a fashionable place of resort, well adapted for my purpose.

The lessee of this famous garden was an Italian, and I got a good introduction to him, and proposed that he should have such an interest in our exhibition, as would stimulate him to exertion, that is, to obtain from the authorities permission to proceed.

This course answered, but a fresh obstacle arose as to the gas, there were no pipes large enough to fill the balloon, but owing to the kindness of the gas superintendent, and the readiness on my part to incur a large outlay, we surmounted even this, and my first ascent came off towards the latter end of October 1850.

The Emperor had left Vienna when I was there, otherwise he would have seen the balloon from the palace windows.

Before the upper part of it was seen above the trees, the glacis around the ramparts was filled with thousands of spectators.

In the gardens, were a gaily attired assemblage of military officers, civilians, ladies, and children, so pleasingly blended as to costume and appearance, that an Englishman could not fail to be struck with the scene.

The applicant for a lofty view of Vienna was neither an illustrious warrior, nor a robust citizen, but a fair young lady whose parents were of respectable position, and who had persuaded her papa to visit me at my hotel, and secure the first seat for his daughter.

The father, an amiable, sensitive man, was averse himself, as he candidly stated, to his child going up, “but,” as he said with affectionate emphasis, “she has been a good and dutiful daughter, and this, the fixed idea of her life, must not be thwarted.”

Several hours before the stated time, a rumour gained ground, that the lovely Fraülein was about to become the observed one at the Volks-garten.

I fully expected that the young lady’s entrance to the car would be the signal for a host of gallant fellows to step forward and beg the privilege of a seat with so beautiful a creature, but no one stood forth, and I felt almost certain of having the honours entirely to myself, when a tug at my coat from some one outside the car caused me to look behind.

I there beheld a young man looking pale and perplexed, who wanted to know what the fee was for ascending. If my memory serves me right, I mentioned a high price as I was annoyed with this candidate for not presenting himself sooner.

The premium, however, did not deter the gentleman from getting in by my side, and no sooner was he safely seated than I liberated the “Sylph,” when loud and hearty were the hurrahs, and numerous the raised hats and waving handkerchiefs in honour of the fair voyager.

Our course was directly over St. Stephen’s lofty tower, which is much higher than St. Paul’s Cathedral, but which soon looked diminutive beneath us.

The lady, when I invited her to do so, was most observant, but the gentleman regarded with indifference the opening panorama, while I could not but notice that his attention was engrossed by the Fraülein, and indeed to such an extent that I proposed he should sit by her side so as to relieve her from glances so direct and full of meaning.

The gentleman assented readily to my proposition, and sprang so quickly from my side to that of the young lady, as fairly--or rather unfairly--to make the car spring again.

When we had passed over the city and were drifting down the Danube, I called upon my passengers to observe a fine view towards the East, the young lady already had her eyes directed that way, but the gentleman never once looked down, but continued to direct an admiring glance towards the Fraülein’s features, exclaiming all the while, “Beautiful, beautiful,” by which I very naturally inferred that he did not mean the distant landscape, but the pleasing form so near to him in a cloudless sky.

Now when we lost the busy hum of the capital and traversed a country route, I proposed the Fraülein’s health, and, to do the gentleman credit, he complied with alacrity to the suggestion and offered to do the honours to a bottle of my own champagne, but before the cork was set at liberty, a neat basket was uplifted by the young lady and in a moment some delicious cakes and a bottle of Hungarian wine diverted our gaze, and what to do the gentleman knew not. He inclined, however, to the fair one’s wine; indeed, we both patronized the refreshing draught, which was sweet and unexpected.

The Fraülein on her part was kind enough to say something pretty about me and my kindness, but the gentleman never said Hoch! and I believe he wished he could have managed the balloon himself and dispensed with my services. However, though we had high words, we did not fall out, but returned to terra-firma capital friends, and so considerate was I of the heroine’s personal comfort, that immediately on landing in a grass field, I begged the gentleman to fetch a conveyance, and talked to her myself until he returned; I then begged of him to convey the Fraülein to the nearest hotel while I emptied the balloon, promising to join them by the time coffee would be served at Kaiser-Ebersdorf where we descended. There is only one other point connected with this event, which it is absolutely necessary to mention, and that is, that about six months after this aërial excursion, my two companions were united in the bonds of matrimony, and that on hearing of this, I understood most fully why it was that the gentleman was heedless of terrestrial objects, and so remarkably observant of heavenly.

After this admirable and romantic commencement in the Austrian capital, my prospects for a continuance of good fortune was as bright as could well be wished. The papers and the public were as busy as possible about the adventure, and wondering who would go up next; when I received an intimation that the authorities would not permit another ascent so close to the palace, as the collection of an immense mass of people on the glacis must not be repeated--the Emperor having returned--but that His Majesty wished that I would ascend during the next spring from the Prater.

The order of the day was, of course, ready compliance, but the cost to me was great, although the first attempt had brought in a handsome return, and but for this prohibition I might have realized another goodly sum.

I now decided upon returning to Berlin for the winter; but it was difficult to get away, as the principal railroad was monopolized daily by the Austrian soldiery, who at that time were about to demonstrate their forces in front of the Prussians, without, however, coming to those heavy blows which have been exchanged since, in battles fought on the very ground I have travelled over in my balloon.

In the spring of 1851, instead of going home to see the Great Exhibition, I followed up my advantages in Germany and recommenced in Berlin, where I again made several ascents. The most extraordinary as far as danger went, was one from the Schutzenhaus in April.

There was a Prussian labourer who became my inveterate enemy, because I had engaged him as a right-hand man, and had discharged him afterwards for bad conduct. From urgent intercession I had taken him on again for a fresh trial, and although I never liked the look of the fellow, yet somehow he cajoled me, and being very handy and ingenious, I suffered those unfailing first warnings to go by unheeded.

On a splendid evening I ascended in company with Mr. Lacy, Mr. Accum, and Herr Henkel.

When we reached an elevation of about 3000 feet, it became expedient to open the valve; on pulling the cord, one of the top shutters broke and remained open, leaving an area for escape of twenty-six inches by twelve, which allowed so large a volume to pass out that a rapid descent commenced, which all our ballast could not check.

I lost no time in doing everything that was possible for our safety, but the escape of sustaining power became so great that one-half of the “Sylph” was deprived of gas; the result being, that our fall was so rapid and perilous, that nothing short of a favourable open spot saved us from broken bones. Fortunately, in one respect, we came down in a well cultivated garden, and the car coming on to a fruit tree the shock was lessened, so that none of us were hurt.

It came out afterwards, that this scoundrel was seen to tamper with, and indeed partially sever the connecting lines of the valve, by which diabolical act we might all have lost our lives.

The next noteworthy voyage was from Berlin into East Prussia, in the direction of Dantzig; a run of nearly 200 miles in about five hours, characterized this truly pleasurable tour.

I had with me Herr Hildebrandt, artist to the King of Prussia, and Herr Henkel.

After we had been up twenty minutes, we came within view of the river Oder. “So soon,” exclaimed Hildebrandt, “why it is twenty-five English miles from the city, we must be travelling at railway speed.”

“Yes, we are, and a great deal faster than railway speed in Germany.” Although the wind was strong, there was no perceptible motion in the car. A stream of murky-looking cloud was drifting along towards the Baltic, and fine moist mist frequently surrounded us as we dipped into the vapour, but the barometer showed that it was more than 1600 feet thick, as we occasionally varied that much in altitude without emerging into sunlight, or within view of the earth.

After we had been up two hours I let out some gas, to see if any of the villages or landmarks would present a familiar aspect to either of the voyagers; but they confessed to having passed beyond any place they were acquainted with.

As we had far exceeded the ordinary limits of a public trip, I proposed that we should go on all the time we could see land in advance.

By and bye, darkness set in apace, and we could just discern--towards the north-west--a line of coast to the left of our apparent route. From what we could make out of the land, it was not highly cultivated or thickly populated.

There was a residence ahead which it was desirable to approach, and I lowered with that intention.

Our landing was rough but secure, and we were brought up in a hedge surrounding a sort of common, with a house distant a mile or so, having lights in the windows.

When the gas was let off by our united aid, we steered for the house, leaving the balloon on the ground until we could get assistance.

In proceeding up a cross country lane, no inhabitant of the wild strange place was met, and we were anxious to ascertain where we were, and how far we had travelled. Not until the iron gates of a baronial-looking seat came in view, did we hear voices.

Neither our questions, bearing, nor manner were pleasing to the gate-keepers; they evidently regarded us with suspicion; and when we stated that we came from the clouds in a balloon, and had left Berlin that afternoon, our story created doubt and caution.

“If you will take my card to the Baron,” said Herr Hildebrandt, “I daresay we shall be admitted to his presence.”

The card was sent up, and the Baron himself came down, but further explanation was required before the gates were widely opened. I happened to have the Berlin “_National Zeitung_” in my pocket, of that day’s impression, which could not have reached the neighbourhood by the time we arrived.

“But where is your balloon?” enquired the Baron, “I have not seen or heard of it.”

“We not long since descended on a barren waste of land some half hour since.”

“Enter gentlemen, and I will call together a number of the household and assist you to recover the balloon and bring it up to the Hall.”

Lanterns were at once procured, a couple of horses with a cart put to, and, with half-a-dozen followers, the Baron and ourselves repaired to the common; but alas! all was blank and desolate.

The difficulty of finding the balloon then presented itself to our minds, and we looked like the veriest impostors when we were rather sharply interrogated as to where the property was situated.

As the only hope of finding it was by catching the disagreeable odour of the gas, I volunteered myself to go forth like a hound and endeavour to find it by the assistance of the nasal organ.

I was wandering almost in despair when I caught the aroma, or whatever else one may style it, and cried out lustily, “Here it is.” The searching party came up in a trot, and when once the Baron ascertained the truthfulness of our statements, he shook hands warmly and escorted us to the Hall, where we were treated with every kindness, and had beds provided, and a carriage in the morning, until we came to a place where extra post was to be met with.

Several other ascents were made in Berlin before I left, but being anxious to visit Prague I made the best of my way thither while the summer was yet in its prime, and after exhibiting the “Sylph” first of all partially filled with atmospheric air I then arranged an ascent, and having in that town a good friend in the person of Herr Leonhart, a gentleman very fond of aërostation who had ascended with me before, all went swimmingly, and my first appearance before a Bohemian assemblage was made on the 13th of July, when we ascended and travelled forty miles in two hours.

Two or three other ascents took place in Prague before I left, but on reaching Vienna I was taken ill, and before I recovered it became too late to avail myself of the Emperor’s hint to visit the Prater.

My next movements were directed to Leipsig, where I intended to do business during the great October fair.

My reputation, such as it was, preceded me, for I found the newspapers already welcoming my arrival, and speaking of my numerous ascents in Germany in a liberal and encouraging tone.

The gas-works’ yard was again the only available place to get the balloon filled in quickly.

Leipsig, after the business fair, wears a very animated appearance. About 80,000 strangers visited the town at this time, and everything good and legitimate in the way of art and science is sure to meet with its reward.

The date of my first experiment at the gas-works was September 28th. Dr. v. Keller, an inhabitant of the town, and a scientific man, was my first patron; he wrote an excellent account of what he saw and felt, in one of the local newspapers, and this had the effect of causing others to ascend in the several journeys I made afterwards.

On the second occasion, Dr. William Hamm joined me, and subsequently Herr Andra, Herr Flinsch, and Herr Gerber, were passengers.

Before I left, an amusing novelty came off at the Great Hall, in the shape of a balloon concert.

The “Sylph” was about two-thirds inflated with a wind machine in the centre of the Hall, and a regular band, headed by myself, entered through the neck valve, one by one, and then played a number of tunes to the delight of a large company.

This was my last undertaking in the year 1851, after which, in order to comply with the earnest wishes of my wife, whose health was delicate, and who craved for Old England, I bade adieu to Germany, and resolved to pursue ballooning in the country of my birth, notwithstanding the discouraging taunts of a few of my relations.

1852.

The votaries of ballooning, like the followers of any other pursuit, have their mutual jealousies. The renowned Mr. C. Green was, at the above date, gradually relinquishing aëronautic duties. Age was steadily creeping upon the veteran, and ambition was prompting one or two others to prove themselves competitors and scientific successors. Lieutenant Gale had lost his life after ascending from Bordeaux, and his patron, Mr. Goulston, had determined to follow aërostation enthusiastically. This latter gentleman was not what the public would style a mere professional balloonist, but an aspirant, who was well to do in the world as a floor-cloth manufacturer. On returning from the continent, I gave Mr. Goulston a friendly call, as we had more than once been up together, and much enjoyed a chat about our favourite study. I then learnt that it was his intention to make ascents from Cremorne Gardens, as well as other places, and that the probability being that I should go abroad again, he imagined that we should not oppose each other.

I distinctly remember objecting to this idea as to my own movements, stating as a reason that I had myself some tempting offers to ascend in and about the Metropolis. I promised, moreover, if he was determined to take the West, that I would try my fortune in the East of London.

Mr. Goulston was the proprietor of the balloon “La Normandie,” and he had just built a new one of smaller capacity, which was about to make its maiden ascent in the forthcoming Whitsun holidays, from Belle Vue Gardens, Manchester.

Strange to say, the very first attempt proved fatal. Mr. Goulston, who ascended in a strong wind was dashed against some stone walls, and lost his life.

He had, it appeared, a very imperfect grapnel for stopping the balloon, but whether he attempted to get out of the car, or not, could hardly be ascertained, although he was known to have determined upon some scheme by which he thought it possible to let the balloon go to the mercy of the wind, whilst endeavouring to save himself by springing from the car.

This untoward beginning was the means of bringing the ill-fated balloon into my notice very shortly after this sad event.

Mr. Goulston had engaged to use it at Cremorne Gardens; intimations of an intended ascent had been published in the newspapers, and I was immediately applied to for an ascent with my own balloon in the place of Mr. Goulston who was killed.

Mr. Simpson, the lessee, then informed me that Mrs. Goulston had applied to him to purchase the balloons, but he would be glad to have my judgement as to the value and construction of the smaller balloon, in which the aëronaut had lost his life.

On examination, I found it to be of good make and material, and when I was asked if I would ascend in it, I unhesitatingly replied: “Certainly, provided I use my own grapnel and ropes.”

After I had made a few trips with it, the accident could no longer be attributed to imperfections in the aërial machine, and it was purchased by Mr. Simpson, and named the “Prince of Wales.” It thus happened, most unexpectedly on my part, that the West-end gardens, as well as those in the East, were at my command.

Having overcome the objection, which owing to family scruples I had formerly felt, to appear professionally in England, I made up my mind, that having once done so, I would go ahead, and make as many ascents as possible during the season of 1852.

Although it was the year after the Exhibition, and there was not much to be done, as my good advisers supposed, yet I resolved to show that it was possible to make more ascents in one year, than had been made by several aëronauts, during the past three or four seasons.

I made arrangements, therefore, to ascend from the New Globe Gardens, Mile End Road, not far from the site of the People’s Palace, also from the Eagle Establishment, City Road, and from the new grounds, which had just been started at North Woolwich, under the name of the Pavilion Gardens.

What with Cremorne and the above named localities, I ascended three or four times in a week, and at the termination of 1852, added thirty-six voyages to my former ascents, which dated in rapid succession from my first as an amateur in the year 1844.

There was one peculiarity about the ballooning at North Woolwich, which caused a fund of amusement on the Thames and the garden esplanade; this consisted in crossing over from the gas-works at Woolwich, the car being fastened in a ferry boat with a steam-tug ahead, which towed the balloon across the river to the Pavilion Gardens.

On one occasion I was engaged somewhere else, when the directors particularly wanted an ascent. I recommended an aëronaut with whom I had long been acquainted, and the way he acknowledged my kindness was by finding fault with the manner I moved my balloon, offering at the same time to show the real and scientific style of doing it properly. But this aëronaut lost his balloon in the attempt, it bounded away out of control, burst in the air, and came down a wreck.

My concluding ascents in 1852 took place at Glasgow. Mr. Maxwell, my _compagnon de voyage_ on the second ascension on October 14th 1852, confirms the account descriptive of our own feelings, and which is a very fair representation of other people’s when they go up in a balloon. A few extracts will be useful, as they apply generally to the subject.

“Before taking a seat in the car for the first time, imagination is busy picturing the scenes and sensations which belong to an aërial voyage. However great one’s courage may be, there are always little fears as to personal safety, and it is owing to this feeling before starting, that the first great impression is made on the mind, when the traveller finds, on rising, that the transition is not accompanied by any of those disagreeable emotions which most persons are apt to connect with that mode of travelling. As the balloon leaves the ground, two-fold astonishment seizes the mind, first--as to the vastness and splendour of the view, secondly--that the effect produced in looking down is not what would be supposed, judging from lofty surveys on the tops of high buildings, in fact, fear is lost in admiration, and there is a joyous consciousness of safety, which favours calm observation.

“The earth presented to our view an immense concave surface, that part immediately beneath being the deepest, this variegated picture may be compared to a map. A certain degree of confusion, however, attends one’s early efforts to recognise particular localities, and here it was that the aëronaut surprised me by the facility with which he pointed out the leading features of Glasgow, although they were new to him.

“First he directed attention to the Clyde, pointing out the different ship-building yards, and mentioning the names of the proprietors. Anon he took me round the squares, along the streets, up to the railway station, and off to the distant country. I was bold enough to inquire how it was Mr. C---- was enabled to trace Glasgow and its surroundings with such accuracy, having made only one ascent previously. ‘I will tell you,’ he replied, ‘I always make it my business before ascending, to acquire every possible information as to a strange locality, much is to be obtained from local maps, &c., but more from personal observations as to public buildings, thoroughfares, roads, and other conspicuous objects, which once seen, familiarise themselves again in the bird’s-eye view, and thereby lead to detection.’

“So model-like and regular was the face of the city, that it was difficult to reconcile the belief that there, beneath, lay the thrifty, solid-built, populous port of Glasgow.

“A view from on high is certainly a great leveller of human distinction--the contrast of a splendid residence with a humble dwelling is not very great when viewed from the range of the clouds, nor do lofty spires, hallowed walls, or public monuments, command, however much they deserve, that respect which they are accustomed to receive below. Everything is reduced to the smallest possible dimensions, preserving, notwithstanding, distinctness of form and outline.”